Casimir glanced at Leto and waited.

“What?” Leto snapped.

“I won’t leave until you’re both out of the desert.”

Leto scowled. “You would have taken me out of the air if you’d had to, wouldn’t you?”

Casimir merely dipped his chin, but he added, “I didn’t need to, though, did I?”

“No, you’re right. You didn’t.” He put his hand on Grace’s shoulder. “To the palace.”

With her wings safely retracted, Grace smiled, and was once more flying through nether-space.

* * *

Greaves still couldn’t believe what had happened. He had even viewed the disastrous results on the Internet. The ruse had been perfect. All he’d thought about over the past twenty-four hours was when and how to obliterate obsidian flame with a bombing; it never occurred to him that he was looking at a massive f**king deception.

But to add insult to injury, the Web was full of Marcus’s propaganda about how Greaves had attempted to do harm to the women of obsidian flame and to a bunch of swans and geese. PETA Two was in an uproar. Talk about spin.

He might have found it amusing that he’d actually been duped, but he was far too angry and the stakes had been way too high. The terrible reality had already begun sinking in that Leto had taken back at least half the army he’d built on behalf of the Coming Order. Half.

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He couldn’t say he was heartsick. You had to be in possession of a heart to be heartsick. In this sense, he was a true vampire, the kind of Mortal Earth mythology, the creature without a heart.

He didn’t even particularly feel despair.

No, what possessed him so strangely in this moment was a rage so pure, it was like a flame in his soul expanding, growing hotter, burning brighter, and most of all demanding recourse.

He needed recourse.

Action.

A hunt.

A devouring.

Now.

This night.

If he’d been interested in sex in that way, he would have killed someone right now for the pleasure of it and orgasmed hard.

But what he needed was different. He needed destruction of that which he believed had caused his failure. His dreams for the future were everything. He had a vision for the world, for Second Earth and for Mortal Earth, and once he had accomplished this goal, he meant to tackle the cesspool that he knew Third Earth to be.

He would transform three worlds, then over time continue to move upward until he saw the fulfillment of everything, a transformation of all six known dimensions.

That something so ridiculous as a beast and the blue variety of obsidian flame had gotten in his way seemed the height of absurdity. He understood now so well just why it was necessary for the true ruler to begin his reign with murder and to sustain that level of killing so long as opposition presented itself.

He was forbidden by the rules of COPASS to kill anyone outright, just as Endelle could kill no one outright. These rules had been designed to serve him, because he knew that Endelle had more power than he did and that if she was ever unleashed upon the world, she could cast a net of dominion far wider than he.

But she just didn’t have the right frame of mind.

He believed in his cause, but he also believed in the law. He just wanted a greater command of the creation of the law so that his purposes would always be served.

Therefore, he could not kill outright.

But that didn’t matter.

He had many arms to do the deeds that needed doing.

And a killing this night was required.

He gathered a squad of four powerful death vampires, then folded with them to the Seers Fortress. He found Stannett, just as he suspected, na**d again, all the women dead, and the man covered in his own juice.

Following a peculiar stench, he turned to his right, and there was the Militia Warrior, her chest gone and her internal organs spilling out of her body, all very charred.

He ordered his death vampires to hold the still-unconscious Stannett upright. He then folded all of them to the basement and strung him up in chains.

He put his hand on Stannett’s head, letting healing waves flow, until the bastard came around.

Stannett blinked and squinted, then said, “Forgive me. I don’t know what happened.”

Greaves clucked his tongue. Already his temper was settling down. “You know precisely what happened. You killed the woman so that you could do as you pleased.”

“It was all too much,” he whined. “I’m not used to working that hard, and my head hurt.”

“So you are saying that you’ve been suffering terribly?”

“Yes, very badly.”

“Well, let us take care of that.”

“Thank you, master. And I am sorry.”

“As am I.”

Greaves signaled to his squad. “Please, take what you need from him.”

“No,” Stannett cried. But Greaves was done with the man’s pleadings, whimperings, and failures.

And now Stannett was done.

The vampires moved on him as by great practice, each choosing a vein. One sank to his knees and struck one of the lower access points. Another moved behind him and struck one side of his neck. The other moved in and attacked the other side. The fourth grabbed an arm and punctured Stannett at the inside of his left elbow.

Stannett cried out repeatedly to Greaves, begging for a second chance. As his blood left his body, he continued to call for mercy. The sound of his pleading voice as he was drained of life was exactly what Greaves had needed to calm his rage and his frustration.

The death vampires were killing machines and did their job systematically.

Within two minutes, Stannett’s head slumped.

Another two minutes brought the death vampires rising from a very white body. Each made a fist to exhibit arms bulging with muscles. Their eyes were manic with pleasure. Dying blood was a glorious thing.

Feeling much calmer, Greaves sent the squad back to their bunker beneath Estrella Mountain, then folded to Geneva. Julianna welcomed him with open arms and gave a squeal of delight as he released his claw from his left hand.

Her screams further eased his soul so that by the time he had finished deep inside her, he knew what steps to take next. He focused first on Casimir. Because Greaves had been associated with him recently, he had a sense of the man. Using his voyeur window, he was able to locate him at the portal to Third Earth.

He knew that Casimir was making use of his own voyeur window to keep track of Leto, and right now he needed Casimir to focus on something else.

Greaves created his own little deception: Using a trick he’d been developing lately, he messed with Casimir’s window reception so that images of Leto would fade in and out. Casimir would assume it was his own difficulty, which hopefully would buy Greaves enough time to get the next job done.




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