She put a hand to her chest and drew in a deep breath. She worked to keep tears from flooding her eyes. She gave a little wave and smiled, not certain what else to do.
Whistles followed. The applause grew louder. Executives from various offices opened doors and also put their hands together.
An assistant, a female, with curly brown hair, approached her. The young woman quieted everyone with two raised hands. She turned to face Alison. “We have been anticipating your arrival, ascender Wells. We welcome you to Second Earth and to our offices. We wish you every blessing as you serve Madame Supreme High Administrator. Again, welcome.”
“Thank you so much.”
The applause once again thundered through the long crammed space and only stopped when Madame Endelle appeared at the end of the corridor off to the left. The slight bristling of her enormous wings, gold this time, sent everyone back to work.
Once she had managed her staff, she addressed Alison, “Well, I sure as hell hope you’re ready for this.” She drew her wings abruptly into her wing-locks, a movement that caused a breeze to flow over Alison as well as a slight scent of animal. Oh, she wore a skirt bearing stripes, similar pelts of some sort, all stitched together, made up of … raccoon, maybe?
“We might as well get started. Take these.”
She waved her hand and an old-fashioned stenographer’s pad and pen appeared in the air in front of Alison. She grabbed them as they started to fall, then she laughed. Had Her Supremeness not heard of a laptop?
She led her down a long hall of offices to a massive executive suite at the very end. With zebra hides scattered over the floor, the room reflected an essential part of Endelle’s unique persona. A massive slab of white marble formed the top of her desk and was supported by … elephant tusks?
“Woolly mammoth,” Endelle said. She dropped into her black chair draped with what looked like an Appaloosa horsehide. She narrowed her eyes at Alison. “Now, let’s get one thing straight. I’m in charge and there will be a lot of paperwork and legal issues to resolve before you are granted guardian status. So don’t even think about taking a high tone with me or making any more fucking demands. You will do as you are told for a good long while.”
“Yes, Madame Endelle.”
Alison couldn’t repine. She had what she desired most, a place in a society that accepted her bizarre range of powers, and a real hottie of a vampire for a boyfriend who adored making love to her, taking her blood, and exploring her mind. She still reeled from waking up this morning to his body stroking hers then his tongue doing such things … okay, better to stay focused on the business at hand.
“No. Go right ahead,” Endelle said, having clearly dipped into her mind. “I think you just made my day.”
Alison guarded her thoughts, blanking out in order to keep her private life private. She set her mind to a mundane recollection of other things she had done, like putting cups in the dishwasher this morning. Top row. Right side.
Endelle rolled her eyes. “You are no fun at all.”
Plates stacked on the bottom. We need more coffee since Kerrick prefers his like mud. Maybe purchase a second coffeemaker for me. I wonder what the grocery stores on Second look like. I think I’II bring flowers home tonight.
“Enough,” Endelle cried. “You will bore me into the grave if you keep going.”
Alison smiled. She was grateful, brim-full of thanksgiving for her new life. She was happy to be across from She Who Would Live. No, she could not repine, and right now, if Endelle asked her, she’d drop down and kiss the woman’s feet.
Endelle’s laughter chimed through the room. “That won’t be necessary,” she said. She trilled her laughter anew. “All right, let’s talk about what I expect of you.”
Alison sat down opposite her and listened. She Who Would Live spoke long and eloquently about the nature of her duties, which covered everything from fetching Starbucks from Mortal Earth to visiting High Administrators around the globe. “And I want you to teach those idiots at the training camps how to throw a proper hand-blast.
“All in all, I’m glad you’ve come, Alison. I trust I don’t have to tell you how important it is that nothing I say to you from this moment on leaves either this room or your mind. Do you understand?”
“Of course,” Alison said.
Endelle formed a shield around them both then clasped her hands together on the desk. “Now, let’s talk about Leto.”
That night, Kerrick sat at the bar at the Blood and Bite, the music off for the moment, the strobes quiet. Only a few couples moved around on the dance floor pretending the music still played.
He wore flight gear ready for the night’s work. He had shared dinner with Alison then shared her body but before he knew it, he was back to his duties as a Warrior of the Blood.
He’d barely touched his Maker’s. All his brothers had gathered around him but no one had asked the question that burned in the air, all but sending smoke rings to the rafters.
Words weren’t sufficient anyway, so he extended his right arm and turned it over so that the bruising on his wrist was visible.
“Holy shit,” Luken murmured.
“So you did it,” Zacharius cried.
Santiago slapped Kerrick on the shoulder. “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” he responded. He nodded. He tried to think what the hell to say to them. Even now, he knew exactly where Alison was … in the kitchen emptying the dishwasher, and … she was singing.
He sighed.
A ripple of tension passed through the men. Bodies shifted, glasses got plunked down on the bar. Sam moved bottles back and forth, refilling as needed. Fire went down throats.
Still, the warriors didn’t move away from him so he knew he needed to say something to relieve the intense curiosity. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed. He gestured with a palm up and brows raised. He frowned, he grimaced, he shook his head. He felt compelled to tell them something, but what?
Heaven, however, seemed like too small a word. Rapture fell flat. Extraordinary was … well … just ordinary.
Finally, he said the only thing that made any kind of sense or could explain how complete the experience had been for him. “For the first time in about two hundred years, I slept … for eight hours straight.”
Bodies shifted once more, soft curses broke the air, shoulders fell, and breathing recommenced.
“Sleep,” Thorne murmured. “Well, that would be something.”
“No shit,” Medichi echoed.
“Merde,” Jean-Pierre stated succinctly. “I’d kill for so many hours of sleep all at one time.”
Two mornings later, just after dawn, after Kerrick had been home from a night of battling for a full twenty minutes, Alison reclined in bed, her fingers caught yet again in his hair. He had made passionate love to her and she was beyond satiated. He had not been patient enough to allow for the entire breh-hedden, but she suspected fulfilling the breadth of the ritual would be saved for special occasions or at the very least when time, urgency, or fatigue wasn’t a factor.
She giggled since he kissed her stomach, ribs, and belly while at the same time talking to their daughter.
He looked up at her. “What about Lucy? We could call her Lucy.”
“Why are you thinking about names when she is still just a ball of replicating cells?”
“Because she’s my ball of replicating cells and of course I’m thinking about names.” He kissed her stomach then bit at one of her ribs, which made her squirm and giggle some more. He kept palming her naked breasts and occasionally shifted position to kiss her deep between her thighs, so she suspected, hoped, he would make love to her again before he fell asleep for the day.
“So what do you think about Lucy?” he pressed again.
Alison smiled. “It’s a thought.” She twisted her fingers a little more through his long warrior hair.
“How can you not like Lucy?”
“Lucy is a perfectly lovely name,” she stated.
“But you aren’t really into it.”
She sighed. For some reason he wanted the matter of his daughter’s name settled right now.
Alison had a different idea entirely, but she felt nervous about bringing it up since she had no idea how he would receive it. She was afraid the name she really wanted for their daughter would open old wounds instead of giving the respect and honor, the legacy, she intended.
He turned back to her stomach and got very close. She thought he meant to kiss her again and prepared to enjoy his lips on her abdomen once more. Instead he addressed the fiery ball of cells.
“Lucy,” he said, deepening his voice in a really wretched imitation of Darth Vader. “I am your father.”
Alison groaned. Her breh was such a ham. A terrible, wonderful, sexy, ascended, vampire ham. Who’d’ve thought?
He kissed her stomach then looked up at her. “So you’re not going for Lucy.”
Since he wouldn’t let the subject go, she said, “Actually, I have another idea.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on? Your heart rate has increased. Are you worried about telling me?”
She nodded then took the leap. “What if we called our daughter Helena?”
He blinked. His lips parted. “You want our daughter to be named for my second wife?”
She had caused him distress. She could feel it. She reached toward him then cupped his face with both hands. “Let me explain. Helena gave her life to be with you, to ease you. Knowing what you, what all your warrior brothers go through, I’m so grateful to her for being with you those ten years of your life. I would like our daughter to have that kind of heart, that kind of enormous courage.”
He took her hand and kissed her palm, a long lingering kiss. He looked up at her, his emerald eyes shimmering. “You amaze me,” he whispered. So generous traveled from his mind to hers. “Naming our daughter for Helena would honor her, and nothing would please me more. Thank you, Alison. I’m so grateful. So very very grateful.”
