Wings of Fire Read Online Free PDF

had floated above the tamarind tree and somehow read his mind. So now she was safe and secure in her bed and he had no means of taking her life.
    Were all his centuries of service to be thus rewarded?
    He knew only one thing: He must prevent this bond.
    He loved Greaves as no one could love him. Greaves was his master; he would lay down his life for him. He wanted a bond, a link with the Commander. He deserved such a bond. Why should Parisa be allowed to forge one?
    It was obscene.
    Rith took deep breaths. He had to focus. He must find a way to counteract the event.
    As he breathed, his mind settled. After a few minutes, his fierce jealousy abated.
    He focused on the ribbons of light. Whenever a change in destiny was imminent, ribbons would glow. As he mentally reviewed all the critical people involved in the Coming Order, on both sides of the equation, he found a burnished bronze ribbon that grew so brilliant with light, even though his eyes were closed he felt the light burned through his eyelids.
    He mentally picked up the ribbon, which belonged to Warrior Medichi. He slid his mind along the future streams and came to an image that caused his heart to seize, in part because of the nature of the vision but also due to its location. He saw the warrior trapped in a dark space, one made of oversized terra-cotta bricks. He knew this particular Second Earth temple in Bengal Two. He had built it himself, modeled on Mortal Earth structures, but with a very convenient basement designed just for his purposes.
    He smiled now. Even though he wanted the mortal-with-wings dead, the sure knowledge that one day very soon he would have within his power a Warrior of the Blood changed everything. If the Creator was good and shined his favor upon Rith, he would fulfill this prophecy. Perhaps then his standing with Greaves would increase to include a forged bond as well.
    ***
    Was Parisa still alive?
    Medichi sat on the side of his bed, sleep-deprived and on edge. He was in the master suite of his villa, a retreat that had become a prison because the woman meant for him was missing … gone … taken. But in a few minutes, he would know if she still lived: She would come to him as she always did at this hour.
    He’d been to the Cave, arriving later than usual, so that only Thorne remained. Thorne had been slumped on a stool in front of the bar, a bottle of Ketel One at the ready, his fingers sliding up and down a full tumbler, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. Medichi had told him of the death vampire at the Grand Canyon and what he’d learned in the pretty-boy’s mind.
    The news had brought a little life into Thorne’s red-rimmed hazel eyes. He’d even smiled and clapped Medichi on the shoulder. “We’ll find her and don’t worry, Carla will keep me up to speed. Jeannie, as well, when she comes on later today.”
    Medichi had nodded.
    Thorne had nodded.
    Medichi had headed home and now here he was, sitting on the side of his bed, ready to complete his morning ritual, ready to hear Parisa’s voice in his head once again, ready to be assured that she was still alive.
    Oh, God, please let her be alive.
    He’d just showered and his long hair dripped at the ends, forming rivulets that tracked down his abdomen and down his back. He loosed the black towel from around his waist and laid it in a heavy loop across his knees.
    At least he had privacy. The first time this had happened was three days after Parisa’s abduction. Both Havily and Marcus still lived in his villa. They were his closest friends, his strongest support, but that day Hav had brought tangerines home from the market without thinking what it would do to him, without remembering that for Medichi, Parisa smelled of tangerines, her special scent meant only for him. For Parisa, Medichi smelled of sage.
    Havily should have known better. For her, Marcus’s special scent was like earthy grasses and fennel combined.
    But Havily hadn’t remembered, and Medichi had been left