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~
For the past two hours, Luken had watched Merl closely, waiting him out. The brother had smoked cig after cig and downed at least three martinis. He stared off into space, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. He’d been attached to Endelle for weeks, playing her court jester. But the moment the black ops team had come together, he’d abandoned the Supreme High Administrator of Second Earth.
Since then, however, Merl had turned into a morose, distant warrior, hostile at times. He even seemed despondent, though Luken wasn’t sure exactly why. Merl was supposed to bring the team up to Third Earth battle levels. But so far none of them could properly execute the drills, especially the retrieval of grayle power, a Third specialty.
Merl badgered the team constantly about how each one of them was holding back. But what about Merl? Though he outdistanced each of them in power, he was completely shut down.
Luken’s instincts told him he didn’t have a full picture yet of Merl, in particular, what was bugging the shit out of him. And tonight, Luken intended to get some answers. He wasn’t about to leave the Ops Cave until he’d had words with the Third ascender.
He sipped his fifth Scotch, enjoying the muscle-easing buzz while sitting in a leather chair near the door. He had his long, heavy legs balanced on a sturdy ottoman.
In terms of Second Earth, the team had taken huge strides. Each of the three Militia Warriors had made the leap to Warrior of the Blood. The average Militia Warrior had to work as part of a team of four in order to bring down a single Second Earth death vampire. A Warrior of the Blood, on the other hand, could destroy several at a time on his own.
Even Rachel now had What-Bee battle abilities. She’d been the biggest surprise of all. The woman who had proclaimed peace for decades, had finally accepted her fighting mantle. She had remarkable power levels and possessed a fighting spirit much like her brother, Gideon.
She didn’t use a sword, not possessing the physical strength to wield the heavy blades. But she’d rapidly perfected her dagger skills and had taken out her fair share of pretty-boys. One month in, she’d developed a tough warrior skin, seeing the enemy for the addicted monsters they’d become.
Luken had been worried sick about her at first and her initial reactions to the usual gore of battle had been completely predictable. She’d come through, however, with tremendous strength and a kind of centered poise not often seen in novice warriors. He was damn impressed with her.
Merl rose to his feet and finally met Luken’s gaze. “Thought you’d be tucked in bed by now.” The cigarette in his hand disappeared. Merl had a trick of folding them away as well as his martini glasses. Presumably his smoking and drinking detritus ended up back at his house.
Luken didn’t flinch. “I’ve been getting my kicks watching you pout instead.”
Merl scowled and each nostril flared. “And how did you like doing your fold tonight? Bet that felt like floating on clouds.”
Luken repressed a shudder; his mangled wings had hurt like a bitch. He stood up, offering a casual shrug. “Thought I had it. Guess I was wrong.”
“Guess you were.” Merl moved slowly, like a man used to meeting up with thugs in an alley. He was as muscled as Duncan and clearly put in long hours pumping iron like the rest of them, but he was always looking over his shoulder.
He was a handsome bastard, with light blue eyes and strong features made more pronounced by the way he combed his hair straight back. He refused to grow it out warrior long, the only member of the team who wasn’t following protocol. But then Merl had been exiled while serving as a What-Bee on Third. Maybe he’d gotten burned and no longer valued the traditions. The truth was, no one knew much about Merl; he wasn’t talking to any of them.
Luken tried a different tack. “I need you to tell me something.”
“Not gonna spill my guts.”
Luken took his measure. “Not asking you to. I just want a straight up answer to a single question. Can you give me that?”
“Ask me and we’ll see.”
The man was dug in.
“Why did you quit the palace? You and Endelle were like a matched pair of socks. Then suddenly you dumped her.”
For some reason, Merl didn’t seem bothered by the subject, which told Luken he’d missed what was really distressing Merl by about a mile.
He pushed his fingers through his hair. “I get Endelle and she gets me. She had no expectations and neither did I. I also hadn’t planned on being assigned to a black ops team, but I’m here now and I’m taking my job seriously. Call it pouting if you want, but your team isn’t anywhere near ready to battle Third Earth death vampires or even Militia Warriors in any dimension above Second. Yet I can sense we’ll be moving out soon, which basically is a death sentence. Is that enough of an answer?”
Luken could only frown in response.
Merl grimaced. “That’s what I thought.” He headed toward the door and Luken didn’t try to stop him.
Merl was a complicated man. The most Luken really knew was both sides of the conflict on Third had wanted Merl dead. He’d been exiled to Second Earth where he’d lived for fifty years.
What Luken really couldn’t figure out, however, was how to get the team up to a basic Third battling level. And like Merl, every instinct told Luken their time was almost up.
~
Duncan lay on the floor of his workout room, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. The memory of his mother leaving had come back like a train that jumped the rails and kept throwing cars off the tracks.
