Wings of Fire (46 page)

“No,” Fiona cried. “Is that possible in this dimension?”

Parisa glanced at her. “I had wings on Mortal Earth. That was supposed to be impossible as well.”

Fiona turned to Havily. “What of you? What is your power that makes you a target?”

“Well, I have two actually. My blood has special properties and tends to act like dying blood in some respects. It made Crace maniacal. He was a High-Administrator-turned-death-vampire who wanted my blood more than anything. He was the one who orchestrated my abduction.

“In addition, I work with Endelle in the darkening. Yeah, I know … well, it’s a nether-space thing, a place that exists between dimensions. When she and I do darkening work, we hunt for Greaves all night because he uses that time to travel around the world to ship death vampires to this area, to Phoenix Two. You know how the Warriors of the Blood battle all night? Greaves has been building an army of death vampires throughout the world by turning High Administrators and in addition making one of their tasks the creation of more death vampires through the taking of dying blood.”

Fiona leaned her head against the mattress. She covered her face with her hand. “And he supplies the High Administrators with our blood, with the blood we died for every month.”

“Yes,” Havily said. “But yours no more.”

Fiona’s hand shot out and grabbed Havily’s arm. “But Rith will acquire more women to meet the demand. And if not, the death vampires must feed. I’ve heard that to go without dying blood creates unbearable abdominal cramps.”

Parisa turned and settled a hip on the bed. She took Fiona’s free hand and held it tightly in hers. “That is not your responsibility,” she said. “Your job is to get well quickly and to serve on our committee to free the rest of the slaves.”

Fiona shook her head. “They will feed on mortals because they’re weak. There has to be a better way. Something more permanent. The blood is packaged and distributed all around the world. What if we followed that trail and eliminated the source that needed the blood.”

“You mean the death vampires.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you aware that Greaves has an antidote and that more ascenders partake of dying blood than we know of? It’s rumored that a third of COPASS uses dying blood and the antidote.”

“COPASS?” Fiona asked.

“The Committee to Oversee the Process of Ascension to Second Earth. No one checked the acronym, which is probably also an indication of the intelligence level involved. It’s all political.”

“What does COPASS have to do with anything if they just oversee the ascension process?”

“Over the decades, the governing body gained more and more power. It now has the ability to establish all kinds of laws. The one that hinders Endelle the most is that she is not allowed access to her own Seers Fortress at the Superstition Mountains without the permission of that Fortress’s High Administrator.”

Fiona frowned. “But I know for a fact that Commander Greaves uses Seer information to plot his course.”

“How do you know that?” Havily asked.

A blush suffused Fiona’s cheeks. “I can hear telepathic conversations.” She whispered the words.

Parisa glanced at Havily. Havily returned her stare and into her mind, sent,
Is she lying?

“I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Fiona said. “And I only mentioned it because I trust you both.”

Parisa laughed, then Havily. “Can you communicate telepathically? I’m just learning to do it myself.”

Fiona shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“How did you discover you could do this?”

“Generally I can hear everyone’s thoughts, though I’ve learned to block the noise really well. The first time I met Greaves and Rith all those decades ago, it was like hearing a symphony in full orchestral mode. I thought I would go mad.” She shuddered at the memory.

“You must know way too much about everyone.”

“More than I’d like to.”

“What about Jean-Pierre?” Havily asked.

Fiona smiled. “I don’t know French. He blends his French and English together in his thoughts. Besides, the minute I know I’m hearing thoughts instead of spoken words, I close my mind down.”

Parisa blew air from her cheeks. “That’s probably a good thing where Jean-Pierre is concerned.”

Havily laughed.

“What am I missing?”

Havily said, “Well, he’s a man and he’s a warrior.”

Fiona laughed, first a little then a lot. “You’re so right. I forgot what it used to be like when I would listen in accidentally. Men do think about sex a lot.” After the shared amusement subsided, she said, “I wasn’t that way before I was abducted, on Mortal Earth, I mean. I couldn’t hear everyone’s thoughts until I arrived on Second.”

“But how did you survive?” Havily asked. “ Mortals can’t, you know.” She jerked her thumb at Parisa. “Except this one, but she’s the only exception … ever.”

Fiona shrugged. “The first thing Greaves did to me was ascend me. I know that’s not the right phrase but he has the power to bestow immortality though he withholds the fangs, thank God. Vampire fangs would have been too much to deal with.”

“As if the D and R process wasn’t enough all by itself. You know, Fiona, what we don’t understand is how you lived as long as you did.”

She stared down once more at clasped hands. “I really don’t know, but the worst of it was that I got really good at reading the women. I knew how long each one would last to the year, often to the month.”

“Jesus,” Havily whispered. She put her hand on Fiona’s shoulder. “We’ve all been through it one way or another, because we’re ascended and this is a world at war. My fiancé was killed by death vampires and he was a powerful Militia Warrior. Later Crace, who used to be High Administrator of Chicago Two,
turned
and got a taste of my blood and abducted me. He drained me, not to death like you, but he kept me drugged and chained to a wall. Sometimes I have nightmares, but Marcus is there for me now and it helps.”

Fiona grabbed her hand, the one on her shoulder. “We’re sisters then, in this kind of suffering.”

“And power,” Parisa said.

Another feminine voice flowed from the doorway. “And compassion.” Alison moved forward, her gaze fixed on Fiona. “You have compassion for the other women. I’ve been talking to them this morning. You were the hub, the counselor, the comforter. You got most of them through longer than they would have survived otherwise.”

Parisa turned toward her. Alison had spoken evenly enough, but now her hand was on her stomach and her nostrils flared. Was she in pain all the time? “How’s the baby?”

Alison took in a deep breath. “I’m actually here for a sonogram in a little while, but I thought I’d check in with our latest arrivals.” After a moment, she seemed to relax, and she moved forward to put a hand over Fiona’s hand, which still held Havily’s. She smiled. “I like this. A real sisterhood. When I ascended I was alone except for Endelle. Believe me, that was no picnic.”

Parisa and Havily burst out laughing.

“What?” Fiona asked.

Havily chuckled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“I hear she’s fashion-challenged.”

All the ladies shouted their laughter this time.

“To say the least,” Havily said.

Alison broke the spell and hissed as she once more pressed her hand to her belly. She stepped away from the bed then cursed, a very long string of words hooked together that made Parisa stare. She had never heard her talk like this, but Havily didn’t seem especially surprised.

Alison closed her eyes and breathed, her hand at the top of her belly as though trying to press the pain away.

“Okay,” she said. “Enough of this. I’m going to track the doctor down right now.”

She turned and hurried from the room. She headed to the right so that Parisa watched her pass in front of the glass windows that ran the length of the bedroom wall. Long vertical blinds ran the width of the window, but right now they were kept open just enough.

“God, I hope she’s okay,” Havily cried.

When Parisa glanced at her, she was dabbing careful fingers beneath her eyes. After a moment, she turned back in Fiona’s direction and said, “Her sonogram will take a while so how about we focus on you. I suspect you have a lot of questions about Second Earth and about Endelle’s administration, so if you feel up to it, fire away.”

Fiona blinked. “Well, who makes the best coffee in this dimension? All I’ve had for over a hundred years is tea. I’m sick of tea. I used to have coffee every morning in Boston.”

“Starbucks,” Parisa and Havily said in unison.

Parisa thought the lightness of her tone and of the question was the best sign yet that Fiona would adjust.

For the next hour, both she and Fiona pelted Havily with dozens of questions on all sorts of subjects—about Endelle’s administration, about the Warriors of the Blood, and about the organization of Territories. Spectacle became a lively discussion as well as horticulture, which was one of the highest art forms on Second Earth.

When another half hour had passed, Havily glanced in the direction of the hallway windows. She looked down at her watch then back to the windows. “I really thought Alison would be done by now.”

Kerrick suddenly appeared in the doorway, a crease between his brows. “Hey, Hav. Just to give you a heads-up, Alison’s headed this way and she’s crying.” He looked really worried.

Parisa knew that the bonding of the
breh-hedden
allowed Kerrick to know Alison’s external sensations, anything she touched or anything that touched her, but it didn’t translate into emotional understanding. No doubt he could feel the tears on her face.

But this so wasn’t good.

“Why weren’t you with her?” Havily asked.

“She was supposed to wait because I was out at the Militia Warrior Training Camps. Shit. I wanted to be here for her.”

He was just short of Antony’s height. He had dark arched brows over striking emerald eyes. He was built, too, and looked especially yummy in his battle kilt and weapons harness.

His expression shifted, a lift of the arched brows and widening of his eyes as he looked up the hall. He took a few steps so that Parisa could only see him through the hall window if she leaned backward, her gaze partially obscured by the blinds.

Alison came into view and the next second he took her in his arms, though her belly made it an awkward angle. Parisa felt tears touch her eyes. Alison’s chest rose and fell in what had to be a series of sobs.

Fiona whispered, “Oh, no.”

But it was Kerrick’s face she could see.

“It can’t be all bad. Look. Kerrick is smiling.” His laughter suddenly boomed up the hall. He pulled away from her and laughed some more, then he hugged her and laughed again.

Havily said, “Maybe she’s having twins. She looks big enough to be having more than one. She’s only seven months and she’s huge.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and turned her in the direction of Fiona’s door. Havily now stood at the end of bed.

The next moment, Alison appeared, wiping tears from her cheeks and grinning from ear to ear.

“What?” Havily cried. “Tell us right now or I’m going to throw my shoe at
you
this time, Lissy.”

That made Alison laugh. “Oh, that was so bad of me but I’ve already promised Kerrick I won’t do it again.” She compressed her lips and tried to restrain what was a combination of a new smile and the beginning of a fresh bout of tears. Her relief was obvious.

Kerrick tightened his arm around her shoulders and met Havily’s gaze. “Well, first, nothing’s wrong … at all. But you’re not going to believe this. The baby has wings.”

“Wings?” Havily cried. “That’s not possible!”

“Apparently, it is,” Alison said. “That’s why there’s been so much discomfort. The baby’s healthy and she’s right on schedule, but apparently the release of the wings has caused an increase in amniotic fluid in order to create more space and that’s been the problem all this time. Well, that and the movement. Essentially, the flying.” She wiped her eyes. “The baby has wings. I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

Parisa stared at Alison’s stomach. She tried to picture the fetus within, twirling, tumbling, practicing with wings. She couldn’t imagine a finer beginning for any human—ascender—vampire—whatever.

Havily turned toward the couple a little more. “But does this mean you have two more months of this kind of agony?”

Alison stood up straighter and wiped a little more at her cheeks. She folded tissues into her hand and wiped some more. “No. The good news is that the doctor thinks I can begin communicating telepathically with the baby to get her to start bringing her wings in and hopefully keeping them in. It’s a rare phenomenon for a Second Earth baby but there’s anecdotal evidence that says it occurs in the Upper Dimension all the time.” She drew a card from the pocket of her slacks. “There’s a woman whose specialty is telepathy and infants. Her name is Tazianne. Now, why does that name sound familiar?”

Havily gave a brisk shake of her head. “Oh, I know why. She’s the talented horticulturalist who designed the magnolia centerpiece on Medichi’s foyer table.”

“That’s right, I remember now. Well, looks like she has more than one gift. Anyway, I’m going to give her a call ASAP and get Helena to calm the hell down.” She chuckled. Kerrick hugged her again and kissed her forehead. They looked at each other for a long moment. Parisa knew they were communicating telepathically, and it was a beautiful thing to see the love on their faces, one for the other.

Parisa’s heart hurt looking at them. She thought of Antony and of having spent the night in the guest room. For a sudden hard moment she longed to have exactly that kind of relationship with him.

***

Fiona didn’t know whether it was Parisa sitting on the side of the bed next to her, or that Havily and Alison and even Warrior Kerrick were in her room with her, but somehow she started to relax. Tears touched her eyes. The sight of Warrior Kerrick so tender with his
breh
was so normal that she felt maybe,
maybe,
everything was going to be okay.

The disaster that had been her life for over a century, the suffering she had endured, began to fall back into the past. She could take a step forward now, maybe two. She knew this sensation, but it took her a moment to realize that what she felt was hope, that her life even after so many horrendous decades, could start making sense again, could be something she could manage, perhaps even direct, even
enjoy
. What would that be like, to be able to direct her steps, to order them, to choose her path, to decide when she arose and when she went to bed, to never again be at the mercy of monthly needles, tubes, bags, and the presence of Rith and his medical staff?