Luken’s grim expression didn’t help.
The brother generally had a calm disposition. But not right now.
Thorne glared at Samuel, his arms crossed over his chest. Though he spent most of his time at the palace Command Center, he still wore flight battle gear.
Jean-Pierre ground his molars and didn’t make eye contact.
Endelle stared at him with raised brows, clearly more curious than pissed.
She wore a typical, off-the-rails outfit, this time with some kind of sheer tunic that hung to her knees, covered on top by a massive necklace around her throat that descended almost to her waist, made up of hundreds of small spiral white seashells.
Snug leopard pants showed through the tunic. Her black stiletto boots gave her several inches on Thorne. And to top it off, literally, she wore a crown made up of electric-blue, bird feathers and some kind of fuzzy yellow thing in the middle.
Vintage, Endelle. She looked perpetually ready for mardis gras.
But as he passed by the risers, his steps slowed. A funny kind of scent wafted in his direction, very light and floral, even sweet. Perfume, maybe. And somewhere in the back of his head he knew that scent, as though nothing more important existed. He might even have stopped but the fragrance faded so he continued his march.
Given the audience, he hoped Luken intended to take the conversation to the conference room, but the moment he drew within fifteen feet, Thorne started in.
“What the hell have you got to say for yourself, warrior, that you would hold back this kind of power, when you know how desperately we need Warrior of the Blood capacity right now? Santiago gave a full report before turning in early this morning. What the fuck?”
“The power I have,” Samuel stated as forcefully as he could, “isn’t stable.
When it first emerged, it killed several innocent men, slaves I think. And I only allowed it out last night because it was either that, or watch those pretty-boys swamp Santiago. ” He frowned. “And despite the fact that I felt in control, which is something I freely admit, I also know that there’s an uncontrollable side to whatever the hell this is. I don’t want anybody else dead because of it. And that’s the goddamn truth!” Thorne rubbed a hand over his brow.
“Okay, that’s reasonable answer. But, shit, we need you. ”
“I know that,” he said quietly.
“When did this power emerge?” Endelle asked.
His gaze shifted away from her, away from all of them. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to remember.
He took a deep breath. “While I was hanging from ropes in that prison cell in Honduras Two. That’s one reason I’ve never trusted this power. It’s dark, it came from my hatred of my torturers. ” Endelle shook her head a couple of times. “Listen up, warrior. ” She angled her thumb toward Jean-Pierre. “You need to put yourself in JP’s hands, and start trusting some of the What-Bees, that maybe they’d be able to handle this dark- ass power of yours and help you gain control of the rest of it. ” He opened his mouth to argue with her, but she shushed him. “Ch-ch-ch! Not a word, asshole. You’ve been holding out and we’re all pissed as hell. We’ve got a full-blown war on our hands and the Borderlands have expanded with activity every goddamn night. So, this isn’t a discussion. You will work with Jean- Pierre and you will like it. Do we understand each other?” He nodded. “Yes, Madame Endelle. ”
“Good. Now someone tell him about Duncan. I’m outta here. ” She lifted her arm, and much to everyone’s dismay she folded straight out of room, which set the alarms shrieking. Luken already had his phone to his ear and a few seconds later, the alarms shut down. No one folded in or out of Militia HQ, without express permission, except by
way of the multiple landing platforms.
Once his ears stopped ringing, he focused his attention on Luken. “What about Duncan?” The warrior was one of Samuel’s few good friends and had helped him to escape his captivity a year ago.
Luken met his gaze squarely.
“Duncan’s missing. We don’t know where he is, or what happened to him. He disappeared while battling at the New River Borderland two nights ago. There’d been so many teams folding in and out of the space that it took almost twenty-four hours before we concluded he’s now MIA. ”
“What?” Samuel’s chest tightened.
“But how the fuck is that possible?” Duncan was an extremely powerful Militia Warrior and one of two dozen who had been working with Jean-Pierre to bring his What-Bee powers on line. In recent weeks, Duncan had confided that he’d been having visions, similar to those Elise Jordan experience, but he’d know more in the coming months.
Samuel hadn’t seen him in over a week since Duncan’s responsibilities as a Section Leader for the Thunder God Warriors kept him damn busy. Samuel had never been much for socializing in any significant way, preferring battle and clubbing, but he considered Duncan a good friend who had helped keep him sane during the past year, as he adjusted to his return to Militia Warrior service.
He was just about to ask what he could do to help, when that scent came to him again, this time much stronger, a river of fragrance that started wrapping around him. He even turned in the direction of the risers, though uncertain why.
He sniffed the air, and drew more of the flowery scent into his nostrils, which in turn invaded his brain. A strange dizziness descended.
What the hell was that?
Chapter Two