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More receding and Rachel watched him shift to meet her gaze.
Of course with the pair of them attached as they were, Luken’s next gander went to the joining of their hips. He quickly looked away. “Can you two break this up? We need you at the villa.”
He then headed back down the hall and once more disappeared from view.
“See what I mean?”
Duncan nodded. “Okay, that was really weird and you were doing it, weren’t you?”
“Apparently, I was.”
At that, he smiled. “Looks like I’m not the only one with s
omething ascended going on.”
Rachel knew he’d said it exactly right. This was an ascended thing and Duncan wasn’t alone in his emerging powers. But she couldn’t think about that right now. If she did, she’d get really upset because for a long time now she’d rejected the general use of preternatural power, believing it wasn’t the right way to live.
And now this.
Duncan released her completely. “I’ll need a minute.”
She nodded, fully aware that he couldn’t be walking around HQ with his kilt bulging across the groin.
When he finally guided her back to the landing platforms, with his hand pressed protectively to the small of her back, a mounting sense of anxiety began to grow within her.
“You’ll need a security detail,” he said, as they entered the large, hangar-like room that held the platforms. Several Militia Warriors arrived looking battle weary. All of them eyed Duncan and nodded to him in greeting.
“What are you not saying?” she asked.
“The Third Earth woman who held me in a trance wants you dead. She wasn’t after me when she sent the wreckers to Mortal Earth. She was after you.”
Duncan had just confirmed what she’d suspected all along.
~ ~ ~
Once at the villa, Duncan let Rachel go. He could feel her distress like an ache at the back of his neck. Maybe he’d been brutal to tell her straight out about Yolanthe’s intentions, but she needed to know.
He wasn’t just worried about Rachel, however. He had things he needed to say to make sure Endelle and her elite fighting force, the Warriors of the Blood, knew exactly what kind of situation they faced.
Standing in front of the French windows that overlooked the back lawn, Duncan glanced around at the gathered Warriors of the Blood, at Antony Medichi with his dark Italian look and at Marcus, who stood near Luken and looked unusually serious.
Kerrick, the warrior with the pure white wings, leaned close to Jean-Pierre, talking quietly to the brother. Jean-Pierre still carried a slightly French accent and wore a lavender brocade cadroen, remnants of his heritage.
Zacharius stood on Duncan’s left, checking his text messages because he was a known ladies-man. Santiago, on Duncan’s right, held a ruby-studded dagger in his hand and flipped it in the air in a unique array of movements, never once missing his catch.
The room hummed with testosterone.
Merl, as usual, stuck close to Endelle. Duncan would have written him off as ridiculous if he, too, hadn’t vibrated with power.
Duncan vaguely recalled that Endelle had said something about Luken needing to train Duncan. Though he couldn’t remember the entire exchange, having been caught by the breh-hedden’s first impact, he knew without being told that he was now the equal of these men.
He’d made the jump from Militia Warrior to What-bee in the past three weeks and all because Sharav had tortured him and Yolanthe had attached to his mind, forcing his power to rise. Both Third Ascenders had done this either inadvertently or on purpose, but he stood here now at Warrior of the Blood level.
Yet even before the abduction, Jean-Pierre had been working with him to bring his powers online.
Duncan had been having strange visions, primarily about the way the war had shaped itself into multiple theaters, each led by one of the three generals. More than once, he’d used that knowledge to disrupt an ambush. And on a recent occasion, he’d even been able to stop the movement of the opposing army’s flank.
So, yes, he had power.
