On the climax moved, like nothing he’d known before, his wings flapping in strong downward sweeps even as Vela’s moved, even as she kept crying out. Her hands pulled hard on the straps, keeping them both anchored.

Pleasure on pleasure.

Cresting more than once.

Finally, the last wave rose and fell to a gentle easing down. He breathed hard, Vela as well, her arms now hanging loosely down the sides of the leather mount, her thick blond hair draped on either side of her head.

“I want one of these,” she said, chuckling.

He smiled and placed his hand on the center of her back, touching her between her wings. “Your wings are extraordinary.

And gray, with a darker gray banding at the tips. They’re beautiful.”

“Like your eyes, Samuel,” she said softly. “Like your eyes.” She craned her neck to look back at him. “And your wings are an incredible shade of blue.” She lowered her head, looking peaceful and relaxed. “Do you think that means something, that our wings reflect each other’s eye color?”

“I don’t know.” Her wings could have been polka-dotted, in bright yellow and purple, and he wouldn’t have cared.

“I’m content more than I can say being connected to you like this.”

“I know what you mean.” She flapped her wings gently then released a deep sigh. “I do know what I want right now.”

“What?”

“To curl up beside you in bed and sleep for about a decade.” He smiled. Nothing could have sounded better. “But I’d still like that shower.”

After spending the rest of the night and a good part of the day asleep, Vela awoke cradled in Samuel’s arms, facing him. She kept sighing, her contentment boundless. Earlier, around dawn, Samuel had awakened her gently then made love to her, bringing her to another roaring climax, which she was pretty sure Merl must have heard since both she and Samuel had cried out repeatedly.

If Merl had even come home last night.

Merl was one of those big unknowns, living almost hedonistically as a refugee from what sounded like a messed up dimension. But Merl wasn’t her problem right now, and hopefully never would be.

He had his own path just as she had hers.

She lay beside Samuel, her head on his shoulder. She kept fondling the incredible curves of his pecs, the dip below his sternum, the rolling landscape of his abs. “I still want to work as a counselor, no matter what this new power means.” To her surprise, Samuel chuckled.

“Why? It seems to me you have a whole new path laid out for you.” She hadn’t expected to hear something like that from him. She leaned back and met his gaze. “But, why wouldn’t I still want to counsel those unfortunate women? I’ve been studying psychology for years and I’ve had a lot of counseling myself. I think I could do some good.”

“Doing good isn’t the point. You’re not built for it.” She didn’t like the direction of this exchange, but she pressed on. “I think you’re wrong and given what happened at the palace, when I was able to give Alison some peace, this new power I’m experiencing might just take my counseling to a new level. In which case, I could be of even more use.” He frowned slightly. “Remind me again what you did?”

“I placed my hand on her forehead. I comforted Alison. The Alison Wells. I felt her empathic power flow through me and into her, easing her. And that’s one reason I think you’re wrong.”

“I didn’t mean to pick a fight this morning. It’s just that I’ve been inside your mind and I saw how much you loved traveling and living a more adventurous life. That’s all. I think you might want to open yourself up to, I don’t know, a calling that might have more meaning and purpose for you personally.”

“Like what? Like serving as a Militia Warrior?”

“I didn’t say that. In fact, I don’t think you’re a warrior. But this gift has to mean something, has to mean more than you think it does. Have you considered the possibility that the attack in 1922 affected you in a way that shut down your adventurous spirit, or did you already deal with that in counseling?” Vela couldn’t quite meet his gaze because her conscience prickled her.

During her sessions, she’d repeatedly glossed over the subject, afraid to plumb the depths of what had happened to her the night Jeff and his squad rescued her. “You may be right,” she said quietly. She then glanced at him and frowned. “But what of you, Samuel?” He drew his arm from around her and crossed his arms to rest on top of his head.

“What about me? I think I’m doing all right.” With that one move, she knew she had a choice to make. If she pressed on, the argument would escalate. But his strident opinions of how she should best live her life rankled. And hey, turnabout was fair play, so she said, “I think you should become a Warrior of the Blood.”

“What?” he all but shouted, drawing his brow into a neat line of ridges. “You think I should become a What-Bee? Based on what?”

“On seeing you battle beside Thorne, you know, the Supreme High Commander of the Allied Forces, and Warrior Leto in his beast-state? You’re their equal. Hell, you might even exceed them, Samuel.

What do you think of that?”

“My being equal in power has nothing to do with it. I’m a Militia Warrior. Even Gideon, after the breh- hedden took him down and his powers increased, didn’t join up. I belong to the Thunder God Warriors.”

“But Gideon has a different set of responsibilities. He’s Colonel Seriffe’s second-in-command. And you’re just a fighter.”

“I’m a back-up Section Leader. I have responsibilities.” But his frown deepened.

“Oh, I know what it is. I get it.” He leaned up on his elbow, turning slightly to face her, anger flashing in his eyes. “What do you get?”

“I may not have dived into your mind, but I understand something about you. The Warriors of the Blood are a tight group, really tight, connected, and that’s not something you do. Ever.” She even punched her forefinger into his chest for emphasis.

He narrowed his gaze, a smile suddenly playing at his lips. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve connected pretty well with you.” Since he shed his bitter chocolate scent, and her body responded, she leaned in and kissed him. Samuel had full, sensual lips and he knew how to work his tongue. For a few seconds, she even considered drawing him back down on top of her and encouraging him to take her again.

But she had a point she wanted to make, so she responded, “Then let me mind-dive with you.” He snorted. “You want me to prove that I can connect by allowing you inside my head? No. And I’ve already told you why.”

“You mean those elusive streams of energy that haven’t yet made an appearance?”

“Are you saying you don’t believe I have them?” A knock on the door had Samuel moving quickly, dragging the comforter up to her chin, making sure she was covered.

“What is it, Merl?” Their host opened the door slightly and called out, “Endelle wants to make sure we get some practice in on sealing up the grid wall. Given all that happened last night, we should get going on that.”

“Fine. Give us twenty.”

“Good deal.” When Merl pulled the door shut, Samuel rolled out of bed. “I call the shower.”

“I’m not done discussing this.” He just waved to her as he went into the bathroom and shut the door.

Showered, with a fresh change of clothes brought over from his Scottsdale Two home, Samuel sat next to Vela at the kitchen island, fork and knife in hand.

Merl, standing opposite, near the sink, kept going on and on about Thorne’s recent exploits, something he and Vela had missed since they’d been asleep through the morning.

Vela nodded to Merl. “So Thorne really tore the Illinois Two Seers Palace apart?”

“Yep. Found it abandoned, except for the Seers. He had several Militia Warriors practicing with the wrecker shotguns, which work even better outside the darkening. I hear it’ll be nothing but rubble soon.”

“Well thank the Creator for that. And what about the Seers?”

“Best part of the whole damn story.

He sent fifty-five drugged out women to Fiona’s rehab center.”

“Fifty-five? That man is incredible.”

“Yeah, he is.” Samuel groaned and snorted at the same time. He admired Thorne. Who the hell didn’t? But what he fucking resented was Merl using the news of Thorne’s exploits to impress his woman.

He focused on the steak and eggs that Vela had prepared for them, and yes, the woman could cook. She’d brought food over from her house again and even made some kind of salsa with chunks of fruit in it, mango maybe.

Since it was already after five and heading toward sundown, Samuel wished he had a beer. Of course that wasn’t the best way to start a night when he had a new skill-set to learn, if he could even help with the sealing of grid walls.

He glanced at Vela, thinking about what she’d said earlier, about wanting to mind-dive, that maybe his real issue was one about connection.

While Merl and Vela chatted away, he cut another slice of steak, piled on the egg, and the salsa, and shoved it in his mouth. He stared at the light granite of the island and chewed slowly.

His life had always been pretty simple. His mother had died when he was very young and his father had been, clear up until the day of his death, a sonofabitch who drank too much.

Samuel had lived a man’s life, a harsh life. That’s all he’d ever known.

Even the torture he’d endured had been part of living his warrior’s life. In many ways, that was his job. He was a Militia Warrior; warring, tough, and yes, maybe somewhat disconnected. He loved to fuck women, but he never let anyone in. Maybe he didn’t know how, but like hell he’d put Vela through the trauma of seeing what he’d been through by engaging in something like mind-diving.

He was also concerned for her physical safety. For the most part he had control of his dark power, but he still didn’t know what might cause an event like the one that had killed those innocent workers. And he didn’t want to find out, especially not when Vela shared his bed.