“Makes sense. That’s what I would do.” She looked down at Parisa and slid her finger under Parisa’s chin. “How do you propose to do what my warriors couldn’t? How do you intend to find them?”

She sniffed and blew her nose. “I can voyeur them. Well, not all of them, just Fiona, the woman with the dark blue tank top.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t have everything figured out but we have to do something. Now that I’ve seen the horror they endure, I won’t stop until we have all of them safely here.”

“And that’s why you’re pushing for the ascension ceremony?”

“Yes. Of course.”

Endelle nodded. She glanced at Medichi, but the stone of his jaw was still in place. “What do you think?”

His gaze fell to Parisa, and he shifted his jaw around a couple of times. “I can appreciate and certainly approve of the use of her voyeur skills to locate Fiona, to try to contact her, but she’s talking about making the run herself. That’s all she’s been talking about for the last hour. I think it would be foolish.”

“Why?” Endelle asked. She was baiting him because sometimes it was just plain fun to watch one of her warriors go apeshit.

“Why?” he thundered.

Ah, there it was.

His face turned a dark, angry red. She particularly loved how Parisa shifted to glare at him. She even planted her hands on her hips.

“Yes, Warrior Medichi, why?” Even Parisa’s voice had grown stronger in the last three months.

He began to pace. He moved crazy-fast. She was only surprised steam didn’t flow behind him. “I’ve just gotten her back,” he cried. He flung an arm in Parisa’s direction. “Do you know what the last three months have been like for me?” He froze in mid-step.

“Shit,” he cried. He pulled his cadroen from his hair and threw it at the plate-glass window. It was a good throw and ordinarily would have done some damage, but she’d put in bulletproof glass after the last time she’d lost her temper. It was on the top floor, for Christ’s sake, and even with the glass company hiring the preternaturally gifted who could levitate, the whole process had taken a week—and it was summer in Phoenix. So, yeah, bulletproof glass.

His cadroen, made of leather and rhinoceros tusk, plopped onto the closest zebra skin. He stared at it. “It’s too soon to be talking about this. I’m too raw.”

He turned back to Parisa. He drew close and caught her on the inside of her elbow. “I know I’m behaving like a madman but I don’t want to fail you again, can you understand that? And the thought of you being anywhere near Rith—” He closed his eyes and drew in a long, loud breath through his nose. “Well, the whole thing makes me nuts.”

“Yeah. I’m getting that. But maybe we’d better come to an understanding right now.” Parisa faced him dead-on.

Endelle had a perfect view of her profile. What was with these brehs? Dammit, they were all so beautiful. But then maybe that was the least these men deserved for the way they had to put their lives on the line every night.

“You’re not responsible for me anymore, Antony. I’m making the decision to ascend. I spent the last three months in a really weird kind of captivity but I also learned a lot about this world. Rith had a library, and one of the books I read was Treatise on Ascension, by Philippe Reynard. Do you know the one?”

Medichi nodded. “A little pompous but he’s got most of the facts right.”

“According to Reynard, one of the tenets of this world is service, and that is one thing I happen to agree with. I know I’ve been given some strange gifts but I want to serve with them, to do my part. And it’s more than that. The whole time I was under Rith’s domination, do you know what I hated most?”

He shook his head. His eyes slid around uneasily, like he wasn’t sure he was going to appreciate what she said next. Endelle braced herself for another fit.

“What I hated the most was that I was incapable of just leaving—he had enough physical power over me that I couldn’t escape. And I was never once confined with locks or ropes or chains or anything. The doors were always open so that fresh air blew through the house. The domes of mist were so easily penetrated, as you very well know, but I didn’t have the skill to just leave.

“If I’d had some of your abilities, your flight skills for instance, I could have flown through the mist, gone somewhere, done something. If I’d had some battle skills, I could have used one of the many sharp knives he kept in the kitchen and made good use of it. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered because he has a great deal of preternatural ability, but at least I could have tried. I couldn’t even try, Antony.”

Endelle knew her mouth was agape. Parisa had made a compelling case, and Endelle agreed with her. But what caught her attention was how she called Medichi by his first name, as though she’d been doing it all her life. For some reason that bugged the shit out of her.

She crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Just so you know, O winged creature of Peoria, I do get a say in what you do and don’t do once you ascend.”

At that, Parisa turned toward her, amethyst eyes wide. “Would you forbid me to arm myself or to go after the D and R slaves?”

Endelle got totally sidetracked. “D and R?”

“Death and resurrection. Perfect epithet. That’s what Fiona called it. The women died then were resurrected with defibrillators.”

“Jesus.” Endelle felt ill all over again. She moved back to her desk and leaned her hips on the edge. The fur she wore itched and she scratched her arms down both sides. “Shit, I think I’m allergic to this fur.”

“What is it?” Parisa and Medichi asked in unison, both noses wrinkling.

“Coatimundi. We have ’em here in Arizona. I’ll have to talk to my taxidermist.”

“Taxidermist?” Medichi asked. “You mean furrier?”

She slid her thumb under the edge of the vest and scratched. “No, I mean taxidermist. You don’t think an actual furrier would touch this shit, do you?” She blew air from her cheeks. “Okay, let’s take this one fucking thing at a time. Parisa, we’ll get you ascended, but you’ll have to have a ceremony with witnesses. COPASS has rules about that now. And because you’ve had a Guardian of Ascension, your boyfriend here”—she jerked her thumb in Medichi’s direction—“I’ll have to perform the ceremony myself.” She looked past them and shouted, “Alison.”

A few seconds later, the blond beauty, breh of Warrior Kerrick, appeared in the doorway. She had dark circles under still-lovely blue eyes rimmed with gold, but she gritted her teeth, her hand pressed to her way-too-big-belly for being seven months with child.

“Maybe you’ve got twins in the oven,” Endelle said, scowling at her stomach.

Alison crossed the threshold but didn’t close the door. “The doctor only found one heartbeat at four months. She would have found two if there’d been two. Believe me, she worked my stomach over every which way. This baby is just really active, and frankly I blame Kerrick. He’s too powerful. I should never have bonded with him.” She wasn’t even smiling when she said it.

Alison had gotten knocked up right away and now she was a trifle irritable. Aw, too bad.

Again, Endelle worked hard at not laughing. “Okay, whatever. Listen up. Parisa is ascending. Set up a ceremony at the palace for tonight at five. We’ll have a sit-down dinner before the warriors head out. Got it?”

“Got it,” she muttered as she turned away. The door closed behind her. Shit, she didn’t even say hello to Parisa. The pregnancy had really gotten the better of this usually calm, we-are-the-world therapist.

Medichi frowned and said quietly, “What’s going on?”

Endelle shrugged. “Hell if I know. She’s been real bitchy for the last few weeks and no, I don’t know why. I’ve never been pregnant. Don’t want to be. At least she’ll get her figure back. That’s one excellent benefit to ascension.” She glanced at Parisa then scowled at her. “I hope you’re using protection.”

The woman had the good grace to blush scarlet. Then her eyes got very round, as though she’d just thought of it. Terrific. Medichi stared at the ceiling, studying the inset spot-lights. “All right, get out of my office. I’ll see you both here tonight at five.”

“Thank you, Madame Endelle.”

“Whatever, ascendiate, just use your head. One grumpy pregnant woman around here is about all I can stand.” She started to round her desk, thinking she’d better check her emails, then decided to offer Medichi a little advice. “And Warrior, for God’s sake, go buy some condoms.” She turned back thinking she might expand on the theme, but the couple were already gone.

“Idiots,” she murmured.

She rounded her desk to sit in her big comfy executive chair. She leaned against the Appaloosa horsehide she had draped over the back.

Shit. Death and resurrection slaves.

Great. Just fucking great.

Didn’t she have enough to worry about with Stannett’s prophecy about an upcoming battle to end all battles?

But when all was said and done, that Greaves had developed a medical system by which he could harvest dying blood on a regular basis was some kind of sick-ass genius. So, yeah, D&R slavery made complete sense. How would so many High Administrators and COPASS members ever agree to become addicted to dying blood without the promise of an easy supply that didn’t involve killing someone through a personal use of fangs? Bunch of pansy-ass, goddamn fucking hypocrites. She hated Greaves for a lot of reasons, but she swore she hated these hypocrites more—the ones who would take dying blood because they didn’t have to be involved in either the slaughter or the slavery required for the harvest.

Shit.

***

Condoms.

What a rookie mistake.

Medichi stood in the foyer of his villa and didn’t look at Parisa. He shoved a hand through his hair then pulled his fingers out and looked at them. He’d left his cadroen in Endelle’s office. He rolled his eyes. Whatever. He pushed his hair over his shoulders to hang down his back.