Gates of Rapture (The Guardians of Ascension) (18 page)

He took another deep breath and tried not to stroke himself within her hand. She still held him in a firm grip, not too tight, just right.

Grace, you’re so beautiful.

From a distance, as though far below, he heard her.
I’m not beautiful. I’ve done something terrible.

He couldn’t imagine what Grace would consider terrible. Telling a lie? Not being polite?

The dark gray mist began to give way to a blue glow, which made sense since she was the blue variety of obsidian flame.

Suddenly he was surrounded by all that blue light but he couldn’t exactly
see
anything, just light. He turned in a circle and as he stopped trying to
see,
as he just let the experience happen, he felt all that Grace was surrounding him. She was goodness, she was woman, she was hunger, need, fear, and quiet strength. More than anything she was afraid of the war, of death, of losing those she loved, of giving herself completely to anyone, of being known.

Yet here he was knowing her, sensing her, feeling her.

Then he felt a new sensation begin to flow, of guilt, her guilt, a terrible kind of guilt, and it beat on him in waves, so that all the blue dimmed and swirled through him in a kind of heavy dark wave. He saw how divided she was and that to some degree all the restraint she showed to the world was because of this seemingly infinite divide in her soul. She wanted to step forward, but guilt held her back, a deep feeling of unworthiness.

He could relate.

Mostly, she feared the discovery of what she was about to reveal. She trembled against him now.

Grace, let go, please. It’s okay.
He pressed himself against her hip, pushing his cock up her fist. He overlaid her breasts with his arm and leaned in to kiss her neck. He tried to help her know that it was okay, whatever it was, it didn’t matter, would never matter to him. Every human, every vampire, no matter how noble, made mistakes.

He felt her release an agonized sigh, and what had been withheld, perhaps shielded deep in her memories, was of a child, an infant whom she had placed in the hands of another woman. Grace’s face was red and swollen from weeping.

You gave up a child.

Yes.

The blue glow turned pitch black and swirled around him. He felt her agony at this one act, which he could feel was early in her life when she was just a young woman.

But something didn’t seem right or feel right about this to Leto. There had to be more. He pressed her.
There is more, I can feel it. Tell me. There’s nothing you can tell me that will change my feelings toward you or my good opinion of you.

She spoke within his mind, but the words rushed at him, too fast for him to catch each individual one. However, the context was clear. She’d been raped by death vampires when she was a young woman. They were drinking her to death when Thorne found her. He’d slaughtered them all and saved her life, but she’d become pregnant. All of it had been too much for her. She’d given the baby away. She never knew what became of the little girl. She hadn’t wanted to know.

So many pieces of Grace’s life fell into place for Leto, the choices she’d made, her incessant spiritual journey that never seemed to end. She’d been seeking absolution for the abandonment of a child; or perhaps she’d never adjusted from having been violated by what was truly evil.

He was wise enough to know that there was nothing he could say to ease her agony, her guilt, her pain. All of those dark feelings were part of her path, the one she had to travel alone. So he remained silent, his body still attached to hers, her hand still a gentle, firm touch.

No woman deserved such horror.

But how to offer comfort? What could he possibly do for her now? What did she need from him?

I am sorrier than you can possibly know that you’ve had to bear this, Grace. There are no words. I know that. Tell me what you would have me do now.

Maybe he’d said the right things because something in her seemed to relax or possibly to relent.

The color changed, lightening, and returning to her beautiful blue.

I just want to move forward. I want you to find the source of my obsidian power and break the sheath so that I can serve as I should have been serving all these centuries.

He turned in another circle.
I can see nothing here, nothing like a tunnel. What if you tried to access the power? Meet me here, be with me here?

It felt like a strange request but he felt a shift within her body and her mind, because that’s the only way he could describe it. He felt her mind descend toward him.

Leto, I can see you within my soul, just a darker blue than my obsidian flame power. We share the same color.

A tremendous sensation of pleasure flowed through him as she approached.

He heard her moan aloud.

Are you feeling what I’m feeling,
he asked.

Desire?

Yes. Can you sense what I want to do?

She didn’t answer. Instead, from what felt like a great distance now, she tugged on his arm and pulled him over on top of her. She made her intention clear as she spread her legs. He entered her swiftly.

Then he understood just how close they were in this moment and that breaking her power open would be extraordinary.

As he moved into her physically, she joined him within her soul. He felt her reach for her power, down and down, very deep until he could hear and feel the rumblings of the earth. Was it in his mind or beneath his cabin? He couldn’t tell.

But her obsidian flame power, connected to the earth, began to flow upward. He pushed into her body, harder now. He could feel her grabbing at his buttocks, his waist, his back, his shoulders. Her fingers glided over his sensitive wing-locks.

He moaned.

The power of the earth rose.

It’s coming. Leto, can you feel that? My power?

Yes, God yes.

Up it rose, then it caught him, a warm rush of heat and light that swept over him, through him, around him, Grace with him. He saw the tunnel now but only as an exit point. He must have come from that direction, which meant he’d already entered the seat of her power, which was the seat of her soul.

His mind or his soul, or whatever combination of himself he was in this moment, separated from Grace and he began to glide faster and faster through the channel, up and up, into her mind where her memories and thoughts pummeled him anew, then out, up, and away. At the same time, he pumped hard into her. Pleasure rode his cock as he released into her and as she screamed her ecstasy at the same time.

He trembled at the pleasure that kept going, kept riding him, that seemed to flow back and forth from mind to soul to body and back, an endless whirlwind of sensation. He roared and once more she cried out. The bed shook, or maybe it was the house.

He came again and again, something so impossible yet possible. His mind was full of her beauty and her power. It was her power that held the sensations on this seemingly endless ride.

At last, the end came, and with it a sense of satisfaction he had never known in his entire existence. He felt her body grow lax as well. He lowered himself down on her, savoring the feel of her breasts, her hips, her legs as she stretched out beneath him.

He kissed her lips and opened his eyes.

Only then did he realize her body glowed an exquisite shade of blue, just as she had glowed at the event grounds earlier when she had accessed her obsidian power.

He kissed her. “Headache?”

She smiled, offering a soft curve of her lips. “Not at all.” She pushed at his hair and reached up to kiss him. “Can I say how amazing that was?”

He nodded and kept nodding, like an idiot. “Incredible, but you didn’t experience pain?”

“No, but as you left, the tunnel took shape, as though you created it.”

“Is that what happened?”

“I think so.”

“Then you were right. Your power is very different from that of your obsidian sisters. And very erotic and very beautiful.”

*   *   *

Grace was changed.

She could feel it deep within her body, her mind, and, yes, even her soul.

Her obsidian power was fully expressed now, though she could hardly guess at the implications for the triad.

She looked at Leto as with new eyes, clearer eyes. She petted his back and stroked his wing-locks. Who was this man who had been able to sink into her soul, to see her, to know her worst deeds and most heinous secrets? He hadn’t judged her at all, even though she still judged herself, still hated that she had rejected the infant because of the baby’s sire.

A clarity came to Grace, about herself and her life and the illusion she’d sustained all these centuries.

After the death vampires had taken her innocence and almost her life, she had withdrawn into a hard shell full of piety, restraint, even propriety. These were the walls behind which she had hidden for the past two millennia. She just hadn’t seen it.

She’d always admired Thorne and Patience, their warrior-like qualities, even their shared exuberance for life. What her life could have been had died the day she had given up her daughter. That was what she knew right now. For nearly two thousand years, she hadn’t lived, not really.

Oh, she’d performed good works, she’d made use of her intellect and studied hard, she’d prayed and meditated, she’d eased the sufferings of the less fortunate and righted wrongs wherever she had found them.

But she had never lived, not as she was meant to live, not as a woman of power and strength and formidable preternatural ability ought to live. She also knew this was why she was connected to Leto, even physically in this moment with his male part anchored in her femaleness.

“I don’t know what to make of this,” he said.

She leaned up and kissed him. “We’re both being called to stand up and fight, Leto. I get that now.”

Her power suddenly rumbled very deep in the earth, then spread upward through her legs once more.

“I can feel that,” he whispered.

She stared into his eyes, nodding in return. A prescience came to her, powerful and frightening. “There is something we must do,” she said.

“I can sense it as well.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Something is on the horizon, something very bad. If we’re to survive—” He let the words hang.

She knew the answer. She felt it in her bones. “We must complete the
breh-hedden
right now. We have to be connected for what’s coming.”

“Yes.” He put his hands on her face, pushed her hair back. He kissed her hard.

“You feel it, too,” she stated. “The necessity of it.”

“We’re about to go through hell.”

“Greaves is on the move. Everything that’s happened tonight tells us that something terrible is afoot.”

“But are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “I’ve heard the bonded warriors talk. Completing the
breh-hedden
always takes place later, when the couple is more attuned or something, I’m not sure.”

“I know,” Grace said. “On one level, we shouldn’t be doing this, but I think the only way we’ll survive the next few days is if we’re bonded. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Then you’re willing?”

He drew a deep breath and dipped his chin. “I’m willing.”

Even as he spoke the words, she knew she was asking for trouble of another kind by engaging the
breh-hedden
before the time was right. On the other hand, her instincts were also shouting at her to do this thing and do it now, that their lives depended on it.

Therein lay the frequent paradox of life: that what was instinctual was often much more important than what could be seen by the eye.

*   *   *

Leto knew that this was both a mistake and a necessity. He felt what she felt, he believed what she believed, that if they didn’t seal this bond, death would follow.

He understood the mechanics of completing the
breh-hedden:
being joined as they were now with him buried inside her, a simultaneous sharing of blood, then a back-and-forth possession of each other’s minds. Jean-Pierre had given him the details. He shared them now with Grace.

She nodded, smoothing her thumb over his cheek. “I’m ready.”

He kissed her, but this time didn’t draw back. Her lips parted and her sweet-meadow scent quite suddenly perfumed the air between them. He groaned and his hips moved so that he was once more thrusting in and out of her.

The
breh-hedden
. Now that he had begun the process, his body reacted powerfully.

“Leto,” she whispered against his mouth. He kissed her again. Hard.

Her body writhed beneath his.
Take me at my wrist,
he sent.

Yes.
Her voice was a sweet murmur through his mind, which further ignited his body.

He lifted his arm, and she shifted her head to bring his wrist to her mouth. She didn’t wait, but struck to just the right level, then began to suck. This action alone almost brought him.

But there was more to be done. While she worked his wrist and he pushed into her and felt her hips rise up to meet him, he used his other hand and pushed her hair away from her neck.

She groaned, and again he almost came.

He waited for just a moment, easing back on his thrusts. He closed his eyes and counted out a few innocuous numbers. When he’d calmed down, he leaned forward and began licking her neck above her vein.

He could feel her vein rise for him, asking him to do what he loved to do. A sense of reverence overcame him suddenly, that once he started to take her blood, he was close to making Grace his
breh
forever.

Take me, Leto.

The words drove his head down and he bit her then began to suck, strong pulls on her neck. The moment her blood flowed down his throat, the demands of his body increased.

We must do this now.

She understood and pushed her mind against his. He lowered his shields and she all but fell in. As she suckled his wrist, she cried out, her voice muffled with her lips pressed to his skin.