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A Warrior's Desire
Pamela Palmer
A love that could destroy the world…Former navy SEAL Charlie embarks on the most dangerous mission of his career when he dives through a portal to rescue the only person who knows how to seal the gates between faery land and the mortal world. But meeting Tarrys, his guide and companion, is the true revelation.As the pair traverse the Forest of Nightmares they’re pursued by deadly creatures. But the greatest danger is the electrifying attraction that’s growing between them, an attraction that could doom humanity…
“I came to help you, not hold you back,” Tarrys said.
Charlie settled his hand on her jaw and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “I was being an ass. I thought if I pushed you hard enough, you’d beg off and tell me you had someplace else to go.”
“I don’t.”
“I know.” He took her hands and rubbed his thumbs over her soft skin, the friction going through him like electricity. His gut reaction was to pull her closer, but he felt a tension in her. A resistance. So he held her hands and met her gaze. Fell into her gaze. Why had he never noticed that her eyes were deep as the ocean, bottomless wells of violet? Why did she have this pull on him?
About the Author
PAMELA PALMER is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author. When her initial career goal of captaining starships didn’t pan out, Pamela turned to engineering, satisfying her desire for adventure with books and daydreams until finally succumbing to the need to create worlds of her own. She lives and writes in the suburbs of Washington, DC.
Dear Reader,
Here, at last, is the long-awaited third book in the Esri series that began with The Dark Gate and continued with Dark Deceiver. While you needn’t have read either of the previous books to enjoy this one, I hope you’ll be intrigued enough by the story and the world to eventually pick them up. The climactic ending of the four-book Esri series, Warrior Rising, will be available soon from Mills & Boon® Nocturne™.
For more information about all of my books, and to learn more about the world of the Esri, please visit my website, www.pamelapalmer.net.
Happy reading!
Pamela Palmer
A Warrior’s Desire
Pamela Palmer
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Many, many thanks to the wonderful team at my publisher, especially my editor, Ann Leslie Tuttle.
And special thanks to Laurin Wittig and Anne Shaw Moran who read and edit everything I write. I’d be lost without you. Thanks to Tommy Gardner for the intriguing discussion of what a Navy SEAL might take on a mission into Esria. And as always, thanks to my family and my real life hero, Keith, who supports me in a thousand ways and does all the grocery shopping.
Now that’s a hero.
Chapter 1
I can’t go back there.
Slavery. Pain. Degradation. Her body controlled by another’s mind, every action orchestrated by her master’s intent, her free will ripped away. Eliminated. Destroyed.
I will not go back to that.
With shaking hands, Tarrys dumped the leftover coffee into the kitchen sink as the two brothers, Charlie and Harrison Rand, argued behind her in the living room of the small apartment she shared with Aunt Myrtle in downtown Washington, D.C. Their every word scraped at her conscience.
“Dammit, Charlie, you’ll never get through Esria alive. It’s suicide.”
Charlie Rand made a sharp sound of disgust. “It’s not suicide. Give me a little more credit than that, Harrison. But even if it is, what choice do we have? If we don’t stop the Esri, we’re as good as dead anyway.”
It was almost three in the morning, but the meeting of the Sitheen Resistance—the mere handful of humans who knew of the Esri invasion and could actually fight it—had just ended. The others had left or retired to bed, the plan set.
When the gate into Esria opened at midnight tonight, Charlie Rand was going through.
And would almost certainly die.
I could help him.
Tarrys’s stomach clenched painfully. Shaking her head against the whispers of her conscience, she soaped the sponge and began cleaning the coffee carafe. She’d prayed it wouldn’t come to this. Prayed the humans would find a way to seal the gate between the worlds, shutting the Esri out once and for all, leaving her on this side.
Safe. Free.
Because, though they treated her as one of them—as a human—she wasn’t.
She looked human though, at five feet tall, a small one. Her body might be slender, but for the first time in her life she had food aplenty and had started to develop true curves. Even her hair had begun to grow and now covered her scalp in a sleek, dark cap of which she was immensely pleased.
Yes, she might pass for human easily enough, but she wasn’t mortal. She was Marceil, one of the slave race of Esria.
After knowing freedom and kindness, how would her heart ever survive slavery again?
“There has to be another way to seal those gates,” Harrison said. “We’ll find it.”
“And how many more people will die in the meantime?” Charlie’s angry frustration set the air to vibrating, quickening her pulse.
Tarrys grabbed the dish towel and turned to lean against the counter as she dried the carafe, her gaze drawn to Charlie. While Harrison maintained an air of deadly calm, Charlie was living motion and muscle, passion and anger. Like his brother, he towered over her in height, his hair close-cropped and sun-streaked. But it was Charlie, with his mercurial temperament and his charmer’s smile, whose presence dominated the room, heating her flesh and stealing her air.
It was Charlie Rand who made her wish she were human, a beautiful human he might want in return.
“In the five months since the Esri found that gate, they’ve killed at least two dozen people and raped who knows how many more.” Charlie’s hand sliced upward. “And that’s with one gate open. Now they’ve got all twelve unlocked … and we don’t know where they are. We can’t guard them. They’ll have free rein of this world, enchanting and destroying at will. If we don’t get those gates sealed, the human race is doomed. We can’t wait, Harrison, and you know it.”
Until five months ago, the humans hadn’t known there was another world connected to theirs. In ancient times, the magical Esri had enchanted their human victims, raping virgins and stealing children to fill the slave halls and harems of Esria. Fifteen centuries ago, the Esrian princess, Ilaria, put a stop to the pillaging by sealing the known gates and leaving the keys, the seven stones of power, in the hands of the humans for safekeeping. Over the centuries, the humans had forgotten about the keys and all but forgotten about the creatures of Esria, most especially the Esri themselves—the pale, cruel, man-size beings who had once struck terror into every human heart. The terrifying tales evolved from generation to generation until the names the humans had once given the invaders, faeries and elves, were no longer whispered in terror but in joy and laughter.
The humans had never known that Ilaria had left one gate unsealed, though hidden. And that the Esri had been searching for it ever since.
Five months ago, Tarrys’s own master, Baleris, had stumbled upon the lost gate by accident—the first Esri to do so in fifteen centuries. She’d been with him, along with a second slave. Over the course of weeks, Baleris had found the strongest of the power stones, raped more than two dozen virgins, enchanted the entire D.C. police force, and hunted the humans he couldn’t enchant, humans with a touch of blood from a long-ago Esri ancestor. Mortals whom the Esri called Sitheen, Charlie and Harrison among them. Baleris had rounded up dozens more virgins and had been preparing to take them back through the gate with him when the Sitheen stopped him, destroying him with fire and the ancient Esrian death chant.
With her master dead, Tarrys had finally been free. The humans had offered her sanctuary and she’d gladly accepted, but the other slave had escaped back into Esria to report to the Esrian king. Soon after, more Esri had come through the gate, and they’d found the seven stones, the seven keys, unlocking all the gates between the worlds.
The situation had quickly turned dire. And now Charlie Rand was determined to infiltrate Esria to find the one person who might be able to help them. The person who’d sealed the gates the first time.
Princess Ilaria.
Harrison silently watched his brother pace, his jaw working, clenching and unclenching. “At least take a guide. Take Tarrys.”
Tarrys’s pulse leaped with dismay, her fingers closing around her opposite wrist, her nails digging into her own tender flesh.
Charlie just snorted. “No way.” He glanced at her, shooting her a quick, apologetic smile that nevertheless set hummingbirds to flight in her chest. “Nothing personal, eaglet, but you’re safer here. And I’ll make better time on my own.”
Tarrys nodded. He didn’t want her to go. She closed her eyes, waiting to savor the relief that should rush in at his words. But the relief wouldn’t come. The truth remained—Esria was a magical and dangerous world and, no matter what he thought, Charlie Rand was ill-prepared to navigate it.
With help, with her, he might stand a chance.
Her heart thudded a hard, dull pounding. How could she turn her back on the only people who’d ever shown her kindness? The humans needed her help. They deserved whatever aid she could give them. They had so much to lose if they failed to stop the Esri—their world, their lives.
In truth, she had nothing to lose. The freedom and happiness she’d found here weren’t real. They weren’t hers. All her life she’d longed for the freedom to make her own decisions, to act as she chose instead of as another demanded. Now she finally had that freedom. The freedom to do what she knew was right.
How could she live with herself if, instead, she used her precious free will to hide?
Such a decision would not only be selfish, but foolish. If the humans failed, the Esri would overrun the earth. Everything she’d found here, and everyone she’d come to care about, would be lost. Including her freedom.
Sweet Esria, can I really do this?
The fact that it was Charlie going made the decision both easier and infinitely harder. From their first meeting on the battlefield at the Dupont Circle Fountain, she’d had eyes for no one else. He was both strong and beautiful, warrior-hard, yet wonderfully gentle with those who weren’t his enemy. She’d tried to kill him, yet he’d understood she was under Baleris’s control, not her own, and had restrained her without hurting her. And her infatuation had bloomed.
He featured in all her dreams and was the focus of her desires, though she wished he wasn’t. She resented even such a small loss of the precious control she’d finally claimed.
Fortunately Charlie didn’t know his effect on her. He barely noticed her at all.
Her stomach clenched with dread at the thought of what she must do. She slid her hand beneath the soft Redskins sweatshirt and pressed her fist against her warm abdomen, desperate to quiet the turmoil inside her.
Charlie didn’t want her to come with him. Perhaps she could stay hidden, following him, watching over him, ready to intercede only if he needed her, only if he got into trouble. Until the Esri caught her and enslaved her again.
Charlie clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s go. I’m sure Tarrys is ready for us to get out of here. And I need some sleep. I’ve got a mission to plan.”
“This discussion isn’t over,” Harrison growled.
Charlie’s expression turned to granite as he opened the door and ushered his brother through. “Yes. It is.” The door clicked shut behind them.
Tarrys collapsed against the counter, her heartbeat fast and uneven, her mind awash in dread as she contemplated a future just like her past.
But, for now, all that mattered was remaining free long enough to keep Charlie Rand alive.
Charlie Rand loved a challenge.
There was nothing he enjoyed more than the rush of adrenaline before a dangerous op. But this particular op—infiltrating the unknown and dangerous world of Esria—unnerved even his steel-coated stomach. As he pushed through the door to the roof of Myrtle and Tarrys’s apartment building that afternoon, Charlie realized that in less than ten hours, he would enter that strange world with no way to escape for a month. The gates between the worlds only opened during the midnight hour of a full moon.
Lying awake last night, he’d come to the conclusion he needed to polish his archery skills before he went through the gate. Not only were guns useless against the immortal Esri, but the sound was sure to draw unwanted attention. So he’d arranged a lesson from the finest archer he’d ever seen. The little Marceil, Tarrys.
He shook his head at the irony. Eight years as a navy SEAL, training with the most advanced weapons the world has ever known and what did he need? Bows and arrows.
Charlie buttoned his canvas jacket against the chill November breeze and headed around the brick structure that housed the stairs, following the sound of arrows zinging through the air. The first time he’d seen Tarrys, she’d been bald as a cue ball, dressed in some god-awful gray sack of a slave gown, and controlled by Baleris as that bastard prepared to herd several dozen young women through the gate. Baleris had ordered both Tarrys and his other slave to shoot the Sitheen, but even controlled, she’d managed to thwart the Esri and help the humans. She’d aimed and timed her arrow so perfectly, she’d knocked the other slave’s arrow out of the air, leaving his intended victim untouched by either. An amazing shot.
Charlie didn’t expect her to turn him into an Olympic-grade archer in a few hours. He just hoped she could fine-tune his own rudimentary technique and give him some tips on making his own equipment in that foreign world. Then he’d have weeks to practice shooting game so he could feed himself while he was in Esria.
“Tarrys?” Charlie called out, not wanting to startle her in the midst of firing a deadly weapon.
“Here.” Her voice was clear and sure, surprising him a little. He’d always thought of her as meek, but maybe that wasn’t fair considering he barely knew her. He’d been away from D.C. far more than he’d been here since Baleris found the gate. Though he tried to be in town for the full moon, other responsibilities demanded his time and attention. After his stint in the navy, he’d joined a civilian agency that did much the same kind of covert ops work without the political red tape. A couple weeks ago, he’d taken a leave of absence, finally devoting himself full-time to the Esri problem. If they didn’t get these gates sealed, the rest of the world’s troubles weren’t going to matter.
Charlie turned the corner and for a second thought he’d come upon a stranger until he registered the slight stature and supershort hair of the shapely woman pulling arrows out of a target hung from the brick. He pulled up, watching her with interest and no small amount of surprise.
The snug jeans fit her perfectly, hugging her slender hips and falling just to the tops of her bare feet. Feet sporting pretty pink toenails. His admiring gaze rose to take in the clingy purple turtleneck that clung to a surprisingly ripe pair of breasts.
An appreciative smile tugged at his mouth. He’d always thought of her as cute in an alien, otherworldly kind of way. Like a buddy’s violin-playing little sister or something. But there was nothing otherworldly about her today. No one would ever guess this woman wasn’t human.
Until she glanced at him, revealing the most vibrant pair of violet eyes he’d ever seen.
“You look good, eaglet. I like the clothes.”
Her gaze returned to the target as she pulled the last of the arrows. “Aunt Myrtle said I needed clothes that fit. I was fine with the others.” Aunt Myrtle, the elderly aunt of one of the Sitheen, was a Sitheen herself and a gifted healer. She’d taken Tarrys under her wing while Tarrys looked after her in return.
Apparently, Myrtle had decided it was time to update Tarrys’s wardrobe and replace the baggy T-shirts and sweatshirts she’d been wearing. He had to admit, the results were impressive.
“You liked those Redskins sweatshirts, huh?”
“They were soft.”
Her simple words reminded him that she wasn’t used to luxury. Hell, she’d been slave to one of the vilest creatures Charlie had ever encountered. Baleris. He couldn’t begin to imagine what her life had been like. She deserved a little luxury.
“It looks like Myrtle’s getting a start on your wardrobe. If there’s anything else you need, you let me know, okay?”
He flashed her a smile as she glanced at him, but while her lips lifted gently, no answering smile reached her eyes. He sensed a sadness in those eyes he didn’t remember seeing before, but he couldn’t honestly say he’d ever noticed her eyes before, other than their arresting color. Maybe she was always sad.
Or maybe her melancholy had to do with his impending trip into Esria. If anyone knew the dangers he’d face there, it was Tarrys.
“You’re not worrying about me, are you, eaglet? I’ll be fine.”
Her mouth compressed. “I’m concerned, yes. But I believe you’ll succeed anyway.”
He lifted a brow. “Is that a premonition talking? Any good news you want to share with me?”
A glimmer of a smile lit her eyes, and something else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I don’t get premonitions.” She slipped the bow on her shoulder with a shrug. “I have no magic. But I’ve watched you and heard the others talk about you. They believe that if anyone can succeed in freeing Princess Ilaria, you will. I agree.”
He nodded slowly, watching her. “Thanks.” But he’d heard her qualifier loud and clear. If anyone could.
There was something else, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. He was getting a vibe from her that was slightly off, making his instincts itchy all of a sudden. Making him restless.
His gaze dropped, skimming the small, perfect proportion of her feminine body, and he had to admit that maybe it wasn’t his instincts so much as his hormones kicking up that had him slightly on edge.
“Do you want to shoot first, or watch me?” Tarrys asked, dropping the handful of arrows into the quiver strapped to her back without looking, as if she’d been doing it all her life. She probably had. The flicker of challenge in her eyes definitely prodded his interest. He relaxed and grinned, not bothering to hide the subtle, surprising attraction he was feeling. “I want to watch you. Definitely want to watch you.”
She met his gaze for the briefest instant before turning away, a hint of color in her cheeks, a small, charming smile on her lips.
Charlie smiled to himself as he followed her across the roof. She was as light-footed and graceful as a dancer and as proud and confident as any trained soldier. He’d never thought about it before—he’d never really spared any thought on the little Marceil at all—but she didn’t cower or grovel as someone who’d been a slave. Probably because her masters had never had to break her spirit in order to control her. When the Esri enchanted a human, they controlled them body and mind. The human never knew what was happening. They never remembered. While the Esri couldn’t take over a Marceil’s mind, they could … and did … enslave their bodies, controlling every action with a thought or a touch.
Reaching the far end of the roof, Tarrys turned and met his gaze. “Do you want me to shoot slowly so you can see what I do, or normal speed?”
Charlie stepped out of her line of fire. “Normal speed. Show me what you’ve got.” He studied her delicate profile as she faced the target, wondering why he’d never noticed how pretty she was. Her features were small—everything about her was small—but perfectly proportioned. Except, perhaps, her eyes, which were just about big enough to drown in. And that lower lip of hers, which was definitely full enough to catch his attention.
He shook his head and pried his gaze from her mouth. Her violet eyes flicked his way, unreadable, whispering of miles of untold depths. What was going on in that head of hers? He’d never before wondered, he realized. Never before noticed the gleam of sharp intelligence.
Too bad he was about to leave for Esria.
Without warning, Tarrys reached over her shoulder for an arrow, nocked and shot it, then reached for a second. He watched in stunned admiration as she fired six arrows in less than six seconds, hitting the target in a perfect line, top to bottom, alternating each arrow high and low.
A whoop of appreciation erupted from his throat. “Hot damn, eaglet. That was brilliant.”
He caught a glimpse of a smile on her mobile mouth before she handed him the bow. “Your turn.”
Charlie laughed. “Yeah, right.”
Her smile bloomed, amused and enchanting, then disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared, as if she were charmed by him and rather wished she weren’t. And wasn’t that an interesting thought? Yes, indeed, he loved a challenge.
“I’ll get the arrows,” she said.
His gaze followed her, watching her slender hips as she ran lightly across the roof. Reluctantly he tore his gaze away from her and focused on the target. A competitor by nature, and feeling a strange desire to impress, he was determined to make a good showing. As good as humanly possible.
Humanly possible, indeed.
Tarrys met him with the arrows and handed him one, not quite meeting his gaze. Charlie took a deep breath, nocked the arrow and drew the bow, then aimed and released. And watched the arrow land at the edge of the middle circle. Not bad, but …
“You’re not holding it right,” Tarrys said softly beside him.
He forced his pride down and met her gaze, seeing no smugness in her expression. “Show me.”
She hesitated a moment, then closed the distance between them. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder as she pushed up the sleeves of her sweater, revealing delicate wrists and a thin, rustic wood bracelet.
“You’re wearing holly,” he said, surprised. Holly was the only thing known to protect humans from Esri enchantment. “I didn’t know it worked on Marceils.”
“I’m not sure it does,” she admitted. “Larsen asked me to wear it anyway, just in case.”
“Good idea.”
Her scent teased his nostrils, sweet and crisp like some kind of exotic, forbidden fruit. But it was the touch of her slender fingers as she adjusted his grip that sent desire flaring sun-bright inside him and blood surging between his legs.
Whoa. This was the little eaglet. The Sitheen’s not-quite-human mascot. But his hormones couldn’t have cared less.
Maybe Harrison was right. Maybe he should take her with him. She was a far better archer than he could ever hope to be. And he was surprisingly attracted to her, which might be kind of fun, if the feeling was mutual. But, no, he needed to move fast and quick and didn’t need to be responsible for anyone, especially a tiny slip of a woman. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to go back there. She was safe here, and Myrtle relied on her.
Tarrys shifted her hands, bringing the inside of her wrist to rest on the back of his hand. He could feel her pulse racing like a raw recruit’s before his first dive.
Hot damn.
But as his gaze dipped to her mouth, he noted the tenseness of her lips and suddenly wondered if her pulse raced from fear rather than attraction. The thought slammed into him hard. Of course it was fear. She’d been Baleris’s slave, the slave of a rapist and murderer. Being this close to him … to any man … probably terrified her.
Hell.
“Now sight your target, imagine the flight of the arrow, and aim into it as you release.” Her soft words flowed over him, echoing the thread of tension he’d felt in her, confirming his fears.
A pro at compartmentalizing, he forced himself to concentrate on the weapon and target. He pulled back the string and released the arrow. Just shy of a bull’s-eye. Excellent.
“Good,” Tarrys said, a smile in her voice. He could feel her gaze on him and, while he still felt her tension, she hadn’t moved away.
With a grin, he turned to her and found her watching him with a smile, and more, in her eyes. Attraction. So he wasn’t wrong about that. But he wasn’t entirely sure he was wrong about the fear either.
He resisted the temptation to probe deeper and explore this attraction a bit. Rule number one in the Charlie Rand Book of Dating clearly read, Never date a woman you can’t escape. Tarrys lived with a Sitheen. When the relationship was over, there would be no getting away from her. And he owed her too much for her help with Baleris to do that.
There was something about Tarrys that was too innocent, too vulnerable for a casual affair and he didn’t do anything deeper. No. Mutual attraction or not, this woman was a complication with a capital C. Good for a bit of flirtation and nothing more. The kind of woman no sane man went near unless he couldn’t help himself. Unless he’d foolishly fallen head over heels in love.
And if there was one solid, immutable fact in life, it was this: Charlie Rand didn’t do love.
Chapter 2
“Damn, Rand. You look like an Esri.”
Jack Hallihan shook Charlie’s hand as Jack and his wife, Larsen, joined Charlie a few minutes before midnight in front of the Dupont Circle Fountain. The cop and his wife, two of the small band of Sitheen, each carried a flamethrower, ready to defend the world against the Esri invaders when the gate opened in a few minutes.
“A little bigger than the last time I saw you, aren’t you?” Larsen, an attractive blonde, patted Charlie’s chest. “And lumpier. What in the world are you wearing under that outfit?”
Charlie grinned. The night was clear and brisk, a cold wind stinging his cheeks. He was dressed in the Esrian Royal Guard’s uniform of silver tunic, black silk pants and black cloak. To the naked eye, he hoped to pass for an Esri. But beneath the costume, he was armed.
“Vest, T-shirt, and my gear.” Everything from a first-aid kit to C-4 charges in case he needed to blow something open to reach the princess.
“You ready for this?” Jack asked.
Charlie shook his head. “Hell if I know.” His breath fogged, glowing in the illumination from one of the streetlights. “How do you prepare for the twilight zone?”
He’d feel a hell of a lot better about this op if he could bring his team with him. Most of them were, like him, ex-SEALs. All had extensive special ops training. But he was the only one who had the trace of Esrian blood that made him immune to Esri enchantment. He’d seen Baleris turn the D.C. cops into his own personal army. The thought of an Esri turning his own men against him sent chills all the way to his toes.
Larsen gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Be careful, Charlie. We need you back.”
“I’ll be fine.” He wasn’t sure if he said the words to convince her or himself. “Where’s Tarrys? I thought you were bringing her.”
Larsen glanced to his right. “She stopped to talk to Harrison.”
Charlie turned and saw Tarrys heading toward them. Not the attractive petite who’d stirred his hormones this afternoon, but once more the Marceil slave, complete with gray sacklike slave gown, two bows slung over one shoulder and a pair of quivers on her back.
What the hell?
A growl of frustration rumbled in his throat. Harrison was behind this. His brother was the most controlling son of a bitch on the planet.
And Tarrys was playing his game. He stalked toward her. “I already told you, you’re not coming with me,” he snapped.
Tarrys stopped short, her expression filling with a wariness that bordered on fear.
Charlie caught himself, reining in his temper. “I’m not mad, eaglet. I’m not mad at you, anyway.” He stopped an arm’s length in front of her, glad to see she didn’t back away. Once again, she looked a little otherworldly. Until his gaze dropped to the hand holding the two bows, fingernails painted pink. That pink nail polish reminded him that the woman in the purple sweater and snug jeans was still in there. Her sweet scent wafted over him, heating his blood, driving home the lesson. Even dressed like Friar Tuck she stirred his interest.
She met his gaze without flinching. “You can’t go through the gate alone, Charlie Rand.”
“Yeah, I know that.” Humans didn’t possess the magical genes to get through without an escort from Esria. “But all you have to do is hand me through, right? You don’t actually have to go all the way through yourself.”
“I don’t have to stay, but I have to go through.” Her gaze broke from his and traveled to the mammoth fountain that was the location of the gate into Esria. “I will go first, then come back for you.” Her gaze slowly returned to his. “I would not have you walk into a trap.”
His gut started crawling and he looked at her sharply. “Do you have reason to believe there’s a trap waiting for me?”
Her eyes widened. “No. But as I’ve told you, I don’t have the gift of foreknowledge. If there are Esri in the area, I’ll draw less attention if I’m dressed properly.”
“If there are Esri in the area …” A chill washed over him at the thought. She’d be snatched and enslaved and there’d be no one there to protect her. “Forget it. We’re going through together. If we find Esri waiting for us, we’ll come right back.”
There was something about the little Marceil that brought out his protective instincts. Her size probably had something to do with it. But it was more than that. He’d seen her under the control of Baleris, seen the way she fought against the son of a bitch’s far superior power. And he knew she’d probably suffered serious abuse at the bastard’s hands. No way could he blithely let her go back to that.
She’d take him through the gate and come right back. Nothing more.
“The gate’s open.” Kade’s voice resonated over the park.
Charlie’s pulse leaped as he lifted his flamethrower and ran to take his place with the others. There were five of them guarding the gate tonight, four Sitheen and Kade.
Harrison stood on Charlie’s right. Jack and Larsen had taken up position across the park, on the other side of the fountain. And on Charlie’s left stood Kade, seven feet of hard-muscled immortal. Kade didn’t look Esrian, especially in his jeans and leather jacket. He’d been as surprised as the rest of them when they’d realized he was only half Esri. It turned out that both his parents, born more than fifteen centuries ago, were half human, but Kade had inherited his dad’s dark hair and Caucasian skin and his mom’s immortality. The Sitheen were more than happy to have him on their side.
He’d lived fifteen centuries in Esria until a month ago when he’d stolen through the gate on a mission to destroy the Sitheen and steal back the strongest of the seven stones. When he’d realized the full extent of his king’s evil plans for the human race, he’d discovered he had too much humanity in him to let it happen. It hadn’t hurt that he’d fallen in love with a human—Larsen’s friend, Autumn.
As he stood by the fountain, Charlie saw that the light of the full moon had cast the three life-size statues carved into the fountain’s pedestal into ghostly relief. The statues looked ready to leap naked from the marble.
Charlie settled his flamethrower securely in both hands. Adrenaline pumped through his veins like rocket fuel. Within the next sixty minutes, he’d be walking through that gate himself. But first, he had to help make sure no Esri jumped out.
A chill breeze molded the silk pants against Charlie’s legs and lifted the hem of his borrowed cloak. He was wearing Kade’s uniform from the Esrian Royal Guard. The uniform had been hastily altered to fit his more normal, six-one frame. With any luck, if he did run into Esri he could pass himself off as a mixed blood immortal, like Kade. If they figured out he was mortal, he was dead.
Charlie glanced at the giant. “Any last-minute advice before I go through?”
“Stay away from the Esri,” Kade advised.
Charlie laughed. “Yeah, I figured that much. Anything else?”
“No. Nothing that I haven’t already told you. Other than the Esri, the biggest threat to you are the black trimors, but there’s not a lot you can do about them except hope you don’t cross their paths. You’ll never see them coming.”
“Great.” If there wasn’t anything he could do about them, he wasn’t going to worry about them.
He’d spent all morning with Kade, learning as much as he could about the place—what to eat, what to avoid, like the deadly, cat-like black trimors that remained invisible until the moment of attack. And how to reach the Forest of Nightmares where Princess Ilaria had been held captive for more than three hundred years. Kade knew she was alive. Linked by the magic of their world, all Esri knew the moment one of their own died … and at whose hands. Princess Ilaria still lived.
But rescuing her was going to be a feat of gigantic proportions and Kade could offer no advice. He’d never been in the Forest of Nightmares. No Esri entered those dark woods willingly.
“I wish I could go with you,” Kade said, sounding frustrated.
Charlie couldn’t imagine what the man was feeling. Just last night Kade had killed one of his own men as that Esri forced open the gate a day early and tried to abscond with the seven stones of power that were the keys to the gates … and so much more. Kade had stopped him but at a terrible cost. It was forbidden to end an immortal life, and Kade was now marked for death should he ever return to Esria. The moment he stepped through one of the gates, every Esri would know and be able to track him. They would terminate his existence long before he got anywhere near the Forest of Nightmares.
Now Kade was stuck here and Charlie was going into Esria alone.
Silence settled over the small group as they watched the fountain, waiting. The tension in Charlie’s gut twisted even as adrenaline simmered in his veins. Fifteen minutes. Thirty. Forty-five. Enough.
He stepped forward, breaking the circle. “If they were coming through, they’d have done it by now. I can’t wait any longer.”
One by one, the others left their positions to shake his hand and wish him luck.
Finally, Harrison stepped up to him. Charlie had never gotten along well with his too-serious older brother. But this wasn’t the time for old fights. And he had a sense of what it was costing Harrison to watch him enter the Esrian world. Harrison’s first experience with the Esri had been a nightmare. He’d taken his young kids to the Kennedy Center to see The Lion King and fallen victim to Baleris instead. Baleris had done no more than touch Harrison’s six-year-old daughter, Stephie, for an instant, but the pain he’d launched into her small body had damaged her in ways no doctor could repair. Even Aunt Myrtle, with her gift for healing, hadn’t been able to help her. Months later, the child still remained catatonic and might stay that way for the rest of her life.
Anger flared every time he thought of his little niece, but Charlie knew his anger was nothing compared to his brother’s. Harrison hated the Esri with a depth that was chilling. He wouldn’t deal well with the loss of a second family member to that evil.
But Charlie had every intention of making it back alive. He grinned to lighten the mood. “Cheer up, Harrison. I’m going to kick some major Esri butt.”
Harrison’s cool expression never wavered. “If I don’t hear from you in a month, I’m coming in after you.”
Charlie scowled. “Stay the hell away, Harrison, I mean it.” If he, a trained special operative, couldn’t handle Esria, what chance did his white-collar CEO of a brother stand? “I’ll try to make it back in a month, but it might take longer and I can’t exactly call to give you an update. I’ve got at least several weeks of walking ahead of me just to reach the freakin’ forest. After that, who knows how long it’ll take to free the princess and find another gate out of there. Just stay put until I get back.”
Charlie clasped his brother’s shoulder. “I will come back, Harrison. I promise.” He forced himself to smile again. “With a fairy princess on my arm.”
Harrison snorted, the faintest hint of a smile twitching his lips. “Get your cocky ass through that gate, little brother.”
Their gazes held as something heavy passed between them. The knowledge that this might be goodbye.
Charlie refused to accept that. “Keep an eye on the apartment for me.” He turned to look for Tarrys and found her waiting quietly behind him. “You ready, eaglet?”
She nodded and held out her hand to him.
“Be careful, both of you,” Larsen called as Charlie’s fingers closed around the surprising warmth of Tarrys’s fine-boned hand. Excitement sparked inside him, adrenaline charging through his system as it always did at the start of an op.
Charlie glanced down at the delicate profile of his pretty companion. “Let’s do this.”
Her face lifted and she met his gaze, her eyes shining like violet-hued silver in the moonlight, piercing him with their intensity, stirring that excitement.
“Be safe, Charlie Rand.”
His gaze dropped to that intriguing mouth of hers and for half a second he thought about kissing her. And wouldn’t that give the others something to talk about when he was gone?
But before he could give it another thought, Tarrys turned and tugged him with her as she stepped onto the fountain’s rim and down into the dry well. When they reached the thick marble pedestal, Charlie hesitated. Tarrys didn’t. Inch by inch, she disappeared until all but her hand was gone … the hand caught tight in his.
Then she gave a tug and pulled him into chaos.
Charlie opened his eyes to a canopy of spinning, glowing orange, confusion clouding his mind.
Where was he? What had happened? His mind scrambled for an answer as he quickly took stock of the situation. He was on his back, something hard pinned beneath him. No pain. So he was either unhurt or so close to dead nothing mattered.
Something entered his line of vision, flying about twenty feet above him. What the …?
A snake. A green-and-white-striped snake with long black wings.
In a dizzying rush, it all came back.
Esria. Chills raced across his flesh.
Charlie blinked, stayed where he was a moment longer, listening for sound. When none met his ears, he slowly glanced in every direction, wanting to make sure there was no obvious reason to stay down. The familiar smells of loam and pine mixed with a flowery-metallic scent that burned his nostrils.
The alien landscape that caught his gaze made his heart stutter. It was as if he’d stumbled into a cartoon world where the artist had mixed up all the colors. The light was dim, but not dark, the sky low, glowing like a dark orange dome over a colorful yet barren terrain. A few clumps of straggly trees or bushes and a scattering of jewel-colored rocks were all that relieved the hilly expanse of blue, royal blue, dirt. Except for the small patch of vibrant pink flowers he’d managed to land upon.
He sat up, then slowly rose to his feet, adjusting the bow and quiver slung over his shoulder, his senses alert, his gaze searching for sign of trouble. But the land was utterly quiet. He was alone.
Tarrys.
His gaze searched for her even as he knew she wouldn’t still be here. A tiny regret had him wishing he’d at least had a moment to say goodbye. Maybe he could have snagged himself a kiss for good luck.
Right.
Sounds began to rise around him, sounds he’d probably silenced with his arrival. Insects, if he had to guess, but unlike any he’d ever heard before—odd clicks, musical screeches, and a host of others, pitched both high and low. He hoped to God they were merely insects and not something that might decide to put him on the dinner menu.
A chill slid down his spine, part excitement, part reaction to the total unknown. What dangers lurked in this place that he might never know existed until too late?
With a start, he realized the flowers had disappeared. All that remained beneath his feet was a tuft of orange-and-gold grass.
Jesus.
He looked around, trying to get his bearings, needing to figure out which way to go. Where was the gate? His gut clenched with the sharp realization that it didn’t matter. Even if he stayed here and waited for the gate to open in a month, he couldn’t get through. Not without help. There was no turning back. The only way he’d ever get home was hand in hand with the princess herself. Anything less and he’d never see home again.
Which was precisely the reason he wouldn’t fail.
Determination surged into the flow of adrenaline firing his body and he grinned. God, he loved a challenge. But as he looked for his first landmark, the twin peaks of the red mountains, a sound reached his ears, beneath the clicks and squeals of the night creatures, that had ice forming in his blood.
The sound of voices. Human voices.
No, not human.
Esri.
Chapter 3
Charlie tensed, his mind scrambling as he listened to the low, unintelligible voices drawing nearer. Esri voices. From the sound of them, they were just below the rise, less than twenty yards away. Three Esri, he’d guess. Maybe four. By the time he knew for sure, they’d be able to see him. And he couldn’t kill them, unfortunately. He might be able to outrun them, but a human-looking Royal Guard running from the gate was going to look damned suspicious. No, the only thing to do was hide and pray none of them possessed a gift that would sense him. He scanned the area and spied a nearby thicket of low, bloodred bushes that might do the trick. It would have to. Using skills honed as a SEAL, he ran across the hard-packed dirt to the bushes without making a sound. As he ducked low within the center of the soft, fuzzy branches, a flurry of winged insects took to the air, like a spray of raindrops flying skyward.
Wishing for some red camouflage paint, Charlie took a deep breath and concentrated on quieting his thudding heart. Calm. Steady. He looked back the way he’d come and nearly had a heart attack. A narrow path of that same thick rust-and-gold grass led straight to him. Grass that hadn’t been there a moment ago, as if it had followed him. It was going to lead them right to him!
The grass disappeared.
Charlie blinked. Shit. Nothing remained of the grass except the tuft beneath his feet. He reached down to feel the stuff and had gotten nothing more than the fleeting impression that it felt like the grass at home when the grass disappeared and he once more found himself on a bed of tiny pink flowers.
Charlie’s skin raced with goose bumps. Kade had warned him that the two worlds didn’t follow the same laws of nature. He’d laugh at the understatement if he weren’t quite so shaken.
The nearing voices pulled his attention away from the insta-garden beneath his feet and again he prayed none of the Esri possessed the ability to sense his energy. While every Esri had certain baseline abilities, each had unique gifts as well. Hell, most of their human descendants … the Sitheen … did too, with the unfortunate exception of his own line. Neither he nor Harrison had any special talents except for the inability to be enchanted which, all things considered, was really all that mattered.
Still, it would have been nice to have had some magic at his disposal. Larsen foresaw death. Jack could speak with his Sitheen ancestors. Myrtle was a healer of prodigious skill. The Esri, Baleris, had been able to smell the power stones. And Zander, the Esri Kade had killed, had been able to sense power in others.
If any of the approaching Esri possessed that ability, he was in trouble. Because if they could smell power, even the low-level power of a human’s life force, they’d know he was here.
Pale heads broke the level of the rise. Charlie watched, barely breathing, as three male Esri wearing the same silver tunics and black cloaks he himself wore came fully into view. One of the three possessed the startling whiteness of both hair and skin that he’d come to associate with true Esri, but the other two just looked deathly pale. All three were fairly tall with lanky, rangy builds. Their hair varied in shade from stark white to white-blond.
Though the air temperature was comfortable, a trickle of sweat rolled down Charlie’s neck as the trio neared, speaking Esrian gibberish. If they caught him, he was going to have to decide whether to run or grunt and thump his chest and hope they backed off, though why they’d be afraid of someone who’d been hiding in the bushes, he couldn’t fathom.
The Esri neared, their voices growing louder. Clearer. With a jolt, Charlie realized he was starting to understand snatches of what they were saying. “… gate … nearby …” “… must have closed …” “… King Rith … displeased.”
Goose bumps rippled over his skin. He was beginning to understand Esrian. Had he inherited a gift from his Esri ancestor after all? Or was this newfound ability just part of the magic of this world? Kade had warned him to expect anything. He’d been expecting the worst, but speaking the language was a huge plus.
“We are not even certain the gate is here,” said the shortest and whitest of the three Esri.
“I felt it.” The speaker’s face was rounder, his hair thick with straw-blond waves. “When it opens again, I will know.”
The first man made a noise of dismay. “That won’t happen for another cycle.”
“So we wait.”
Charlie gave a mental groan. Don’t wait here. If they settled in, he was sunk.
But the men never stopped, never glanced his way, just continued to walk toward the hills. Finally, when they were but a speck on the horizon, Charlie crept out of the bushes and headed the other way.
He was being followed.
Charlie picked up his pace as he crossed the rocky, hilly blue terrain, the rust-and-gold grass appearing beneath his feet with every step and disappearing a few steps behind him. The grass had entertained him for a while after he escaped the Esri at the gate.
He’d been so distracted by the grass, he hadn’t noticed when he’d first picked up the tail.
The trees had grown more numerous the farther he traveled from the gate, thin patches of woods cropping up here and there, the trees resembling those in his world only in their basic shape. They had trunks and branches and leaves. But the trunks were blue or green or some combination, some shimmery as satin, others spiked with thorns. And the leaves looked like an autumn forest with the color turned up two hundred percent. Reds, golds, oranges as bright as crayons from a coloring box.
Unfortunately, scattered everywhere were bushes and rocks as big as boulders. Whoever was following him had plenty of places to hide.
Charlie followed the stream Kade had told him would lead him through the mountains. It wasn’t the most direct route, but would provide him with water the entire journey. A necessity, especially since large bodies of water were rare in Esria.
In the distance rose the twin red peaks he knew he’d have to cross. The air was cool and comfortable with a light breeze that brushed his heated skin—skin heated from exertion and the tension of feeling he had a bull’s-eye painted on his back. He didn’t dare confront his stalker unless he had no choice.
Nearly two hours had passed since he’d tumbled through the gate, more than an hour since he’d caught a glimpse of movement and felt the familiar sensation of being watched. But he’d yet to see the man who followed. Or hear him.
Damn, but he hated being without his team. In any other op, one of his men would slip away and double back to spy on the spy. But he was stuck. As soon as his pursuer knew he’d been made, he might no longer hang back. Which meant a confrontation Charlie couldn’t afford. But neither could he go on like this indefinitely. Sooner or later he’d need sleep. Better to confront him and try to scare the hell out of him while he could. If he could.
But first, he wanted to see his tail and make certain there was only one.
It took three tries, slipping behind bushes or trees before he finally caught a glimpse of the one following him as he darted from one boulder to another high on the hill above him. A Marceil, if the small size and gray gown were anything to go by. But this Marceil had hair. Very short, dark hair.
Tarrys.
Relief hit him first and hard, relief that he didn’t have an Esri on his tail. Anger followed fast on its heels.
Damn her. He’d told her in no uncertain terms she wasn’t coming with him. Was this her doing or Harrison’s? It didn’t matter now. But, yeah, it did. If this was her doing and she hadn’t told anyone she was planning to stay in Esria, the others would assume they’d been captured. Harrison would jump through the gate at the next full moon to fulfill the mission he would assume Charlie had already failed.
Dammit.
His jaw clenched, his eyes burrowing beneath his brows as he fought to hide the telltale signs of emotion. The first thing he intended to do was lure her to him so he could wring her delicate little neck. The second was send her away, somewhere safe to spend the next month until the gate opened again. If he’d wanted her company, he’d have asked for it.
Fisting his hands on his knees, he straightened and resumed walking as if nothing was wrong. For a moment, he considered trying to outdistance himself from her, but he didn’t know what kind of stamina she had. Besides, allowing her to follow him was too dangerous. If he picked up a second tail … a true threat … he might not realize it until it was too late.
Damn her. If she thought she could thwart him and get away with it, she was dead wrong.
Tarrys ducked behind a crystalberry bush, the sound of its fruit jangling like broken glass in the dull breeze. Peering around it, she watched Charlie, his long strides carrying him quickly toward the foothills of the red mountains. She ran, dodging behind a boulder, then another bush, determined to stay close enough to watch him. Determined that he not see her in return.
Sweat rolled between her breasts and dampened her scalp as she struggled to stay hidden and keep him in sight. They’d only come through the gate a few hours ago and already she was tiring of this. Eventually, Charlie would rest. Then and only then would she catch her breath.
She’d planned to run from Charlie when they first came through the gate, at least until the gate closed and he could no longer send her back. But the shift between the worlds had knocked him unconscious, giving her the perfect opportunity to hide.
Then the Esri arrived and she’d been terrified the mission would be over before it began. She’d been prepared to draw them off, giving Charlie a chance to get away. But Charlie had moved fast and the Esri had passed, unaware.
Now the only things chasing her were memories, and the fear that an Esri would catch her before she saw Charlie safely across Esria.
She scanned the surrounding hills, looking for a sign of others. Few traveled these lands. The chances of crossing paths with one was unlikely, but not nearly unlikely enough. The thought of it stirred the fear that had ridden over her like a haze since her return.
Sweet Esria, she didn’t want to be back here. Walking through that gate had been, without doubt, the hardest thing she’d ever done. If not for Charlie’s hand clasped hard around hers, giving her strength, reminding her of her purpose, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to force her feet into that fountain. Every step since, she’d felt fate’s hot breath on the back of her neck, corralling her toward that awful and inevitable moment of capture and enslavement.
Don’t think about the past. Don’t think about the future. Charlie. Only Charlie. And getting him safely over the mountains. That was all that mattered. All she could allow herself to think about, or she’d go slowly mad.
Yet she couldn’t stop the wish that she’d never gone into the human realm in the first place. That she’d never known freedom or kindness. Or friendship. How much easier her future years would be had she never known what it was like to have someone speak to her as an equal. To feel the touch of a friendly hand. To laugh and to do as she wanted knowing her body was hers to command. To know that no one would draw her into a frenzy of false passion for the purpose of raping her.
That the only desire that stirred inside her was drawn by a man who didn’t mean to attract her as he did. And Charlie would never, she was certain, force himself upon her.
And while she’d prefer to not be attracted to him, or any man, the truth was she liked him. A lot. Far more than she wanted to. He was a good man. A man who’d shown her more simple kindness than any man had since she was a child.
For Charlie and Aunt Myrtle and all the humans she’d begun to care for, she would do what she could to make sure Charlie succeeded. She would do what she must.
She peered around the edge of the rock, watching, staking out her next hiding spot. But as her gaze swung back to Charlie, she saw him stumble, then fall to his knees, swaying as if he’d been arrow shot. Her jaw dropped, shock vibrating through her body as she watched the strong warrior collapse slowly onto his back as if in the throes of human death.
No.
Heart thundering in her chest, Tarrys darted out from behind the rock and ran down the rocky hillside, the grass rising to prick her feet as fear congealed into a hard mass deep in her throat.
“Charlie.” His name was little more than a breath as she reached him and fell to her knees beside him. “Charlie, wake up.” But her hands had barely brushed his tunic when his own snapped up to capture her wrists.
Tarrys strangled a scream as the man she’d thought unconscious sat up then leaped to his feet, dragging her with him, his eyes blazing.
“What are you doing here?”
He wasn’t injured at all. It was a ruse to catch her. Her knees nearly buckled with relief. “You knew I was following you.”
“Of course I knew you were following me. I’ve known for miles.”
The day hadn’t even broken and already her plan was ruined.
Anger washed off him in waves, yet she didn’t fear him. Her heart pounded only from his startling her. And from the storming of her senses by his nearness. Sweet Esria, she was falling under his enchantment all over again.
He gave her arms a shake. “Answer me. Why did you come?”
“To protect you.”
Charlie gave a short bark of laughter, but there was no humor in the sound, nor in the hard twist of his mouth. He held her so close she could smell his uniquely masculine scent, as deep, rich and endlessly fascinating as his world. His grip on her wrists was no more than snug, yet her skin burned where he touched her. Burned not with pain but with a heat that sank beneath her flesh, into the heart of her blood. Inciting a desire she wanted to feel for no man.
Her body’s reaction frustrated her. Charlie’s belief in his own invulnerability … and her uselessness … annoyed her. “There are things about my world you don’t know,” she snapped.
“I’m not denying that, but I don’t need a freakin’ babysitter.” He shook her again, the tension in his hands tightly … barely … controlled. “And you left the others thinking … what? That I was dead? Captured?”
“No!” Her gaze snapped up to meet his. “Harrison knew I was staying with you.” As Charlie’s expression darkened even more, she added quickly, “He didn’t ask me to come. This was my decision. But I told him before we left.”
“I’m sure you made him obscenely happy with that news,” he said disgustedly.
“He thought it was a good idea.”
“I’ll bet he did. He’s not the one that has to …” He released her suddenly. “You can’t come with me.”
Tarrys said nothing, unable to agree yet unwilling to lie. If he chased her away, she’d only go back to following him, though how she’d keep him from seeing her this time, she couldn’t fathom. She’d been so careful!
“Go home, Tarrys. Or somewhere you’ll be safe. Or, better yet, find someplace around here to hole up for a few weeks until that gate opens again. Keep out of sight. Even if Esri go through the gate at the next full moon, Harrison and the others will be there. They’ll protect you.”
As she remained silent, his stiffness softened ever so slightly. “Look, eaglet, I appreciate your trying to help, though … Jesus … I can’t believe you put yourself in danger to come after me. But you’ll slow me down. This mission is time-critical and I’ve got to move fast.”
The gentling of his attitude softened something deep inside her. As much as she longed to stop her body’s reaction to this man, she would never be able to harden her heart toward him.
“I know,” she said simply.
His gaze sharpened on her, his eyes probing hers, as if he sought a way into her innermost thoughts. When they narrowed, honed to a piercing point, she thought maybe he had.
Charlie scowled. “If I try to send you away, you’ll just follow me again, won’t you?”
Tarrys pursed her lips. If he were anyone else, she’d consider lying to him. But she was beginning to think there was no hiding from Charlie Rand. Whether in actions or words.
She met his gaze. “Your mission is to free Princess Ilaria. Mine is to make sure you succeed. I won’t give up mine any more than you will yours.”
Charlie scowled. “Harrison did put you up to this.”
“No. No one did. This was my plan. My choice.”
“It’s not your mission if you make it up on your own.”
She cocked her head. “Who directed you to free Princess Ilaria?” She couldn’t believe her temerity in questioning him like this. A few months ago, she never would have dared question any man, anyone, but the humans had encouraged her to speak freely. She’d embraced that freedom more slowly but no less appreciatively than the others.
And this was Charlie. For a reason she couldn’t fully understand, she knew he’d never hurt her, no matter what she said or did.
“My going after Princess Ilaria is different. It needs to be done.” His eyes snapped with determination as his gaze held hers.
Tarrys lifted her chin. “And you need to reach her safely. Doing all I can to make that happen is what I have to do.” She suddenly couldn’t bear having him so unhappy with her. Looking into his eyes, she implored him to understand, and reached for him, only to let her hand drop to her side. “I’ve never been free to choose my path before, Charlie. And I won’t remain so forever. While I can, I choose to help the humans win. And that means making sure you succeed.”
He watched her for breathless moments, his gaze delving deep inside her, stirring her pulse and her own determination.
Finally, he looked up at the sky that was beginning to lighten to a soft gold. Twining his fingers behind his head, he arched back, squeezing his eyes closed as if he were in pain.
With a groan, he straightened and looked at her, his expression wry but not unkind. “You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? If you’re coming, you’re going to have to keep up. I can’t slow down for you. There’s too much at stake.”
“I understand.”
Something gleamed in his eyes she couldn’t quite name. A challenge, perhaps? He wasn’t going to make this easy on her. But she didn’t expect him to. Didn’t want him to. She’d come to help him, not slow him down. But she had to wonder how much more difficult this journey was going to be on her now that she’d consigned herself to his side night and day.
Charlie turned and started off again, his strides longer, if possible, than before.
With a sigh, Tarrys held tight to her bow with one hand, lifting the hem of her gown with her other, and hurried after him.
Though she trusted him never to hurt her physically, she feared he’d end up hurting her all the same, more than any Esri ever could.
The woman was tireless.
All day Charlie had kept up this pace, driving them both hard and fast for more than twelve hours, resting for no more than minutes at a time. He’d been certain she wouldn’t last. Certain that she’d suddenly remember someplace else she could go to wait for the gate to open again. But he was damn near exhausted and Tarrys still jogged at his side.
They’d yet to see another person, thankfully, but he’d gotten an eyeful of the local wildlife. They’d watched a herd of white deer with large red polka dots leap over the stream as lightly as Santa’s reindeer taking off. The flying snakes with their high-pitched screams were everywhere, wrapping themselves around high tree branches when they lighted. But the ones he’d found the most interesting, if oddly unsettling, were the packs of neon-green chipmunks that scurried across the ground like large shag rugs on the move.
Charlie hazarded a glance behind him where Tarrys followed close. Sweat glistened on her forehead, but her expression showed no sign of distress.
The little slave was tougher than she looked.
At first, her stubbornness had annoyed him. Hell, everything about this situation annoyed him. But he couldn’t help admiring the courage it had taken to give up the cushy life she had now to try to make a difference. But wanting to help wasn’t the same thing as helping. He couldn’t afford to compromise his mission just to make her feel good about herself. He wasn’t giving an inch. Either she kept up, or she found somewhere to hide until the gates opened again.
Tarrys wasn’t his problem.
He couldn’t afford to let her be, though he had to keep stirring his anger to keep the need to protect her at bay.
“Tarrys, wake up. It’s time to get going.”
Tarrys groaned silently, her exhausted body crying at the thought of rising, of moving at all, let alone returning to that bone-jarring run she’d had to maintain to keep up with Charlie’s much longer strides. She felt like she’d just closed her eyes. And probably had.
The rogue thought flitted through her mind that she could tell him to go on without her. To let her sleep. But helping the humans was the only useful thing, the only real thing, she’d ever done. Nothing would stop her. Nothing short of enslavement.
The slightly caustic smell of the pink flower beds teased her nostrils, the air filled with the clicking sounds of the night insects. Her eyes opened, heavy and coarse with grit. The sky was starting to lighten again, but they’d traveled most of the night. They couldn’t have rested for any time at all.
Charlie stood over her, looking tired but utterly determined. He didn’t have to say the words for her to hear them ringing in her head. You have to keep up.
She forced herself to her feet and slung her bow and quiver over her shoulder. When he turned and strode off in that ground-eating gait of his, she once more ran, though her body felt like it was going to come apart and start dropping, piece by piece onto the ground. Marceils healed injuries quickly, but she needed rest and sleep to replenish her stores of energy. And she’d had little of either in more than a day.
None of that mattered. Nothing but staying with Charlie Rand, though she wondered what use she’d be to him if all she could do now was to keep one foot moving in front of the other.
“We’re on a collision course with a chipmunk rug,” Charlie said a short while later. “Should we step aside and let them pass?”
“No.” She caught a glimpse of green, but could see little beyond Charlie’s broad back. “They’ll go around us.”
Minutes later, several hundred small green petermoles covered the ground at their feet. Charlie stopped so quickly, Tarrys nearly ran into him.
“You can keep walking,” she told him, though the respite was welcome. “You can’t step on them.”
“That’s not why I stopped. I swear I just saw a big black cat with three white horns. But it disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared.”
Tarrys froze. Her blood went cold.
“A black trimor. The most deadly creature in Esria.”
Chapter 4
Tarrys grabbed his arm. “Get behind me! A black trimor will kill you.”
“Like hell.” Charlie pulled his knife as he stared at the sea of neon-green, watching as another chipmunk levitated into the air. For an instant … only an instant … a catlike creature about the size of a German shepherd, black with three white horns sticking out of his forehead, appeared to eat the little guy. Then both disappeared. “I’m really seeing him, right?”
“Yes. They’re invisible until they snatch their prey … or attack. And there’s more than one.” She stepped away from him and lifted her bow. “I see four. Tell me if you see more.”
Four? He felt as if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but yeah, now that she mentioned it, he was seeing things in his peripheral vision—a flash of black appearing for a second, then disappearing.
Beside him, Tarrys began shooting, arrow after arrow. He thought about doing the same, but knew she had the best chance of striking one of those creatures.
Her movements were swift and graceful, edged with a desperation that did little to reassure him as she spun, shooting in every direction. They were surrounded, the trimors working at the edges of the chipmunk rug. But the black trimors never stayed visible long enough for one of Tarrys’s arrows to hit its mark. Charlie wondered if he’d have been more effective with a gun, but doubted it. By the time he saw the creatures, they were gone.
“Got one!” Tarrys crowed even as she continued to shoot. The one she’d shot fell, an arrow through one eye. A moment later, it disappeared.
“Charlie, I’m nearly out of arrows. I’ll need your quiver.”
He pulled it off his back and waited, handing it to her the moment she shot the last arrow from her own. With remarkable grace, she dropped the first and slung the second quiver onto her back, the arrows flying in an almost fluid continuity.
A second cat went down with an arrow through the neck, followed by Tarrys’s chilling words.
“I’m out of arrows.”
“Back to back,” he ordered. Though what good it would do when they couldn’t see the creatures, he wasn’t sure. “Unless you have a better idea?”
“A trimor paralyzes its larger prey, or its enemies, by goring them with its central horn and pumping them full of poison. Neither the goring nor the poison will automatically kill me. They will you. While I draw their attack—”
“No way.”
Tarrys continued as if he hadn’t spoken.
“—you kill them with your knife. You’ll have to be fast.”
“They could still kill you.” Her plan went against every instinct he possessed.
She met his gaze, violet eyes flashing with steely determination. “If we’re not very quick and very lucky, they’re going to kill us both. I may heal fast, but even I can’t survive being eaten.”
Dammit. His pride protested, but he took a deep breath and forced it aside. She might be small and female, but she was all warrior and this might be the only chance they got. They were going to do this together or not at all.
“How will you draw their attack when you can’t see them?”
“Noise. Stay close behind me.”
As Tarrys lunged forward with a high-pitched scream, Charlie followed. Sure enough, a moment later a cat appeared, in full leap, his head down. Before Charlie could react, that long, razor-sharp center horn gored Tarrys clean through the chest.
Charlie went berserk. Horror screamed through him as he flew at the cat, digging his knife deep in the creature’s throat, ripping through muscle and sinew. Warm blood spurted from the animal, mixing with the blood that bloomed on Tarrys’s gown. The cat fell, taking Tarrys with it, fully impaled on its horn.
As he reached for her, the second cat appeared, leaping for him. His fury found an outlet and lent speed to his reflexes as he shoved his knife upward into the attacking cat’s jaw, lodging it deep in the animal’s skull. That deadly center horn caught on the fabric of his tunic, but didn’t break through.
Close. Too close.
The cat fell dead at his feet then disappeared a second later, leaving his knife lying, bloody, on the ground.
He snatched the knife and crouched, watching for more cats. But the green carpet had passed them by and nothing else moved.
Finally he whirled back to Tarrys and knelt beside her, turning her gently onto her back. The trimor gone, she now lay on a bed of dark pink flowers as if she’d been laid out for burial. A bloom of blood the size of his palm covered her chest. And her eyes, those vibrant, violet eyes, stared at nothing, unblinking, her expression frozen in a mask of pain. A mask of death.
Charlie felt as if he’d been sucker punched, his heart skipping a beat, then racing faster than it had during the attack.
Tarrys was dead.
No. Not dead. Paralyzed. Wasn’t she? How in the hell was he supposed to know?
Lifting her hand, he pressed it between his own. Her flesh was warm and damp, the perfection marred by a faint green allover mottling, but that hardly told him anything. She could still be dead.
The thought went through him like a blade. She’d saved his life. If he’d come upon this scenario alone, it would be him lying on that bed of flowers. And he would be dead.
“Can you hear me, eaglet?”
No response, but he hadn’t really expected one. “I should have asked you how long the paralysis lasts. Or, hell, if there’s something I need to do to bring you out of it.” This place was filled with magic. What if the poison wasn’t a toxin so much as a curse? What if she was like Sleeping Beauty or something?
Charlie stared at her, at those lips parted with pain. What did he have to lose? It wasn’t like kissing her was any kind of hardship.
He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. Her scent filled his nostrils. Even totally unresponsive, she moved him, the feel of her damp mouth beneath his stirring something warm and exciting inside him.
When she didn’t respond, he pulled back and studied her, searching her eyes.
“It was worth a try,” he said with a shrug.
Something flickered in her eyes.
He squeezed her hand. “You’re aware, aren’t you? You know I just kissed you. Great. Now I really feel like an idiot. You know Sleeping Beauty, right? Probably not. Hell. She was awakened with a kiss. I thought it might work, though heaven knows I’m no Prince Charming.”
He was only digging himself deeper. “Right. Anyway …” Releasing her hand, he stood and surveyed the surrounding area, looking for anything else that might come after them. Those trimors were going to give him nightmares.
Comfortable that there was no imminent danger of the corporeal kind, he knelt once more beside Tarrys and took her hand again. Still warm, thank God.
“Are you in pain?”
As he stared into her eyes, he felt sure the answer was no. She wasn’t in pain. Her eyes, for all that they weren’t moving, were amazingly expressive.
“Will you recover?” Again, he thought the answer was yes. “Good. I’ll wait for you.” Now, he clearly saw distress. “What? You think I’m leaving you like this? Not a chance.”
He stretched out his legs and got comfortable, a sound of relief escaping his throat. It felt good to be off his feet.
“You know, eaglet, if it turns out you’re really dead and I just think I see emotions in your eyes, I’m going to feel like a real fool.” But watching her eyes, he grinned. “Except now you’re laughing at me.”
He lay down beside her, watching a pair of the green-and-white-striped snakes fly across the golden dome as he pulled her slender hand against his chest.
“I’m glad you came, Tarrys. It’s a hard thing to admit, but I’d be dead if you hadn’t.” He squeezed her hand, then rubbed her warm, soft skin with his thumb. “Sorry for pushing so hard. I thought you’d give up, but you’ve got the stamina of a marathon runner. Now I realize sending you away was the last thing I should have been doing. I hate Harrison’s being right even more than I hate being wrong.”
He rolled onto his elbow where he could see her eyes. “I do need your help.”
She blinked.
The realization jerked Charlie upright. “It’s wearing off.”
Her hand convulsed in his and he rubbed it as if improving her circulation would somehow make the poison wear off faster. Finally, she gasped in a deep, desperate breath of air, then coughed it out. The mottling, he noticed, was gone.
Charlie helped her sit up, bracing her with an arm around her slim shoulders as the coughing fit slowly subsided.
“I’m glad you warned me about the paralysis or I might have had you buried by now.”
Tarrys looked up at him, her violet eyes shuttering her emotions as they hadn’t when she was paralyzed. “You shouldn’t have waited with me.”
“Didn’t you hear me when I was talking to you?” He’d already had his half of this discussion.
“Yes, but you don’t understand. I can’t keep up with you.”
“You’re still here, aren’t you?”
“Barely. You don’t know what it’s been costing me to keep going. Even when I shot the trimors I was dizzy with exhaustion. I can’t keep up with your pace, Charlie.”
“I’ll slow down.”
“No.” Her expression turned earnest as she leaned forward. It was all he could do not to meet her halfway and taste those lips again. Lips that were now free to kiss him back.
“I came to help you, not hold you back,” she said. “You have to reach the princess. Your world is depending on you.”
“Tarrys …” He settled his hand on her jaw and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “I can’t keep up that pace, either. I was being an ass. I thought if I pushed you hard enough, you’d beg off and tell me you had someplace else to go.”
“I don’t.”
“I know.” He took her hands and rubbed his thumbs over the soft skin of their backs, the friction going through him like electricity. His gut reaction was to pull her closer, but he felt a tension in her. A resistance. So he held her hands and met her gaze. Fell into her gaze. Why had he never noticed that her eyes were deep as the ocean, bottomless wells of violet? Why did she have this pull on him?
He dropped his gaze slightly, breaking the connection as he focused instead on her mouth. And totally forgot what he’d meant to say. That lower lip fascinated him. Just slightly too big in a way that sent shafts of heat firing through his body. All he wanted to do was taste it again.
But she was looking at him with misery in her eyes. His mind gave him a kick. She wasn’t fast enough. That’s what he’d meant to respond to.
He met her gaze. “You’re more than fast enough, Tarrys. What’s more, you’re tough. I admit I didn’t think you would be.” He gave her a self-deprecating grimace. “You don’t exactly look the part. But you’re a hell of a warrior. If you’d panicked when you saw those cats, we’d both be dead.” He shook his head. “You were amazing.”
He’d never spoken truer words. Not only had she kept going when, by her own admission, she’d been close to collapse. But she’d done what she must to save them, and trusted him to do the same.
She watched him uncertainly as if she wanted to believe his words and wasn’t quite sure she could.
Squeezing her hands, he released her. “Let’s pick up the arrows, get some water, then find a sheltered spot to take a break. We could both use a nap.”
They rose as one, then turned in opposite directions to search for the arrows. But his gaze kept going back to her, admiration rising inside him. He recognized in her that same rare strength he’d had to find in himself during SEAL training, the most physically grueling training in the U.S. military. To make it through, he’d had to learn to isolate the pain and discomfort and ignore them, a feat that had demanded a strength of will and spirit few people possessed.
Yet in this delicate-looking little female, he’d found both.
The realization humbled him. He’d long ago figured out that size had nothing to do with that kind of strength. Many of the best SEALs weren’t physically imposing men. But never would he have expected to find such toughness in such a small woman. Was it her race? Was this what the Marceils were all about?
Or was he simply beginning to understand Tarrys? Was he starting to see in her that same drive to win, no matter the circumstances, no matter the odds, that was in him? The reason he’d become a SEAL in the first place.
They’d make a good team. As he bent to pluck an arrow from the grass beside the stream, an odd sense of calm settled over him. Accepting her as his partner somehow soothed the ragged sense of chaos that had ridden him since he’d arrived in this place. He was a highly trained, skilled warrior used to being thrown into situations that were out of his control. But always with a team. Never alone. And the situations had been based in a world he understood. A world where the grass and flowers grew where they were planted and invisible animals didn’t attack from thin air. His skills had been honed in that world, not this.
Esria was unlike any place he’d ever imagined. Alone, he’d be lost. With Tarrys at his side, he might just stand a chance. Assuming he could get his growing attraction under control.
Tarrys had risked her freedom to come after him. She threw her heart into everything she did. Everything he knew about her told him the woman didn’t do casual. Neither did he when it concerned his missions. But when it came to relationships? He didn’t do serious.
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