The Fighter Duet: Two Full-Length, Red-Hot New Adult Fighter Romances

by Tia Louise

  “Dude, people get lost in these woods all the time. The trees all look alike.”

  “Yeah,” I say, nodding. “But have you heard of anything else?”

  “I don’t know what you’re asking me, bro.”

  Stopping the truck, I put it in park and look out across the broad expanse of dark water.

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to park in the road like this,” Jim says, looking over his shoulder behind us.

  “What about a fault line? Ever heard of anything like that?”

  “Like earthquakes and stuff?”

  Looking over at him, I nod. “Anything?”

  He frowns, scratching his chin as he thinks. I confess, I’m holding my breath waiting for anything that might help me find Mercy.

  “Sorry, dude. I don’t know about anything like that.” He crinkles his forehead looking up at the sky. “We’d better head on back. It’s starting to get dark.”

  Fighting the ear-splitting roar of frustration burning in my mind, I turn the key and head us back to Doris’s house and my apartment. We’re just pulling into the driveway when Jim suddenly blurts.

  “Sally has a friend who studies tectonics at the university. If you want, I can ask her if he knows of anything.” His face falls. “It wouldn’t be until tomorrow, though.”

  Breath whooshes in my lungs. I almost grab him in a hug. “Just see what you can find out. I need you to do this for me, okay? It’s important.”

  Jim nods, and when he looks at me, I know he thinks I’m losing it.

  Mercy

  My eyes open, and I’m in a large, shadowy room. The walls are covered in black embossed wallpaper, and the furnishings are black wood with deep purple fabric. The ceiling is impossibly tall, and every arch meets in a sinister point.

  Jagged edges and twisting spires like ominous stalactites are everywhere I look. It reminds me of the medieval gothic art I used to study when I was a little girl alone in Hayden’s mansion. I would look at the pictures wondering who would live in such a place when all I dreamed of was golden sparkling waters and soft beaches.

  Now I know.

  Enormous windows hide behind black velvet curtains, but even if they were opened, no light would filter in. The sky is grey but not cloudy. There’s simply no sun here.

  Slipping from the bed, I look down to see I’m wearing a long, filmy white gown. I don’t remember putting it on. The last thing I remember is opening my eyes in the courtyard of this stone castle and crying. Looking up to see my beautiful sun-kissed world replaced by this shadowy underground.

  I’m Thumbelina taken by the mole. Sunlight and warmth are a distant memory, and my only hope of freedom would be a dead bird, frozen with its heart still beating. The old story pushes a bubble of despair higher in my chest until I exhale a gasped cry. “Will it always be like this?”

  I look around the shadowy corners of my room, the black and purple corridors that now compose my home. For a moment, I think of Penny and her fear of shadows. How long will this be my life? If only I were a mortal, I could count on fifty, sixty more years in this prison. As a shifter it could be more than a hundred.

  Dropping my head into my hands I fight the tears. I’m on the verge of despair when I hear a loud noise at what I presume is my door. I can’t see it hidden in the gloom. Another loud rap, and I speak.

  “Come in?” It’s a question because I’m not sure if I have the right to forbid whomever is knocking at my door.

  Is Hayden allowed to do whatever he wants with me? Am I allowed to deny him entrance? Will his minions torment me?

  A low creak precedes his appearance, but he’s so transformed, I almost don’t recognize him. Only his eyes are the same and the sound of his voice.

  “I hope you’re settling in.” He pauses at the dresser.

  His usual tailored suit is replaced with what looks like armored black leather, tight on his tall, slim frame. A girder is at his waist, and a black cape flows from his shoulders. On his head is a crown that appears to be made of bone, and his fair hair is now long down his back. He’s stunning as Lord of the Underworld. The only problem is he isn’t my gorgeous panther.

  “Sleep well?” he says. “That gown is lovely on you.”

  Clearing my throat, I answer. “I don’t remember anything after you brought me here. I guess I slept well. Or I was drugged.”

  Long fingers clasp at the cape swirling around his slim hips, and his nails are now pointed, long and black. “You were not drugged. I’m sure the stress of the day fatigued you.”

  My lip catches between my teeth. “Hayden…” His name is a broken whisper on my lips. It causes him to perk up.

  “Yes, my love? Is there something you want?” He takes a few steps toward me. “You can have anything.”

  Breath hiccups in my throat. My stomach hurts, and my hand flies to cover my mouth. For a moment, I close my eyes and inhale, exhale… get control. He’s unmoved by my response.

  When I feel I’m finally able, I speak. “It’s not nice to be disingenuous.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” His slim lips curve into a grin.

  “You said I could have anything I want. That isn’t true.”

  Straightening, I see longing in his eyes. “I would hope one day the only thing you’ll want will be the same as me.”

  “I want you to let me go…” My voice breaks, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t believe I’ve lost control. Control is the only thing I have left.

  Anger flashes across his perfect features, and he turns in a swirl of black. “I’ll give you a little more time to yourself.”

  My door slams, and a sharp CLATCH! tells me the bolt has been locked behind him. I won’t be leaving this room today.

  Lifting my arms, I study the elegant, flowing gown I’m wearing. It perfectly matches Hayden’s long black robes, only mine are the diametric opposite. I’m rainbow and light, while he’s darkness and shadows. My hair falls around my shoulders in rippling raven waves, and I see on a small table a crown like Hayden’s. Queen of the Underworld? I’m no immortal.

  Reaching forward, I crawl on my hands and knees into the center of the enormous black bed. Everything is darkness here, from the walls and ceiling to the sheets and blankets covering me.

  Closing my eyes, I focus on last night, Koa’s strong arms around me, his words. He promised he would come for me. He promised. Despair tries to overcome me, and my mind says it’s impossible. No one can save me. Still I focus on his words. His promise.

  My panther is so sleek and gorgeous. I remember the first time I saw him. His lashing tail, the power in his muscled shoulders as he commanded the forest. If anyone can save me, he can. My insides relax ever so slightly as I envision his lined torso and imposing physique. Squeezing my eyes tightly, I think the words I hope he can hear. I love you, my Koa. I love you my beautiful panther. I believe you will come for me. It’s the only thing that gives me hope.

  I’m here because his life is more important than escaping my fate. Still, if there’s any way out of this, I know he’ll find it. I have to believe in him. His words have become my words: I can’t live without my soul.

  17

  Searching

  Koa

  Every moment I’m away from Mercy, my desperation builds. She’d been confident she could handle Hayden, but I know my beautiful little lynx. She’s strong, but she’s young.

  Hades or Kanaloa or Hayden—whatever label he chooses in the mythology of the culture—has been around since the dawn of time. He might find my beautiful little cat amusing, but she won’t tweak his nose for long. The myths and legends describing him starving and beating his captives propel me from my bed. It’s early Saturday, and Jim might have word for me on what I hope is the passage to the underworld.

  Naturally, I didn’t tell him that’s what I’m trying to find, but if there’s a fault line in the vicinity of Nightmoon Lake, I’m confident it’s the gateway. It lines up with where I was the night I felt him and with what the ceme
tery caretaker said.

  Pulling on dark jeans and a black tee, I dig further in the closet and find a leather jacket. I don’t remember it being here before. My brow lines, but I pull it on. It’s a perfect fit. I can only assume this is more of Dora’s work. Black boots on, I head out the door and down the stairs. Jim’s truck is in the driveway.

  “Any news for me?” Doris and Jim are sitting at the small table finishing breakfast when I pull open the metal screen door.

  “Sit down and eat,” Doris is on her feet pulling a plate from her cabinet. “You need your strength.”

  “Did you give me this jacket?”

  Her frown tightens as I hold out an arm. “I guessed it was your size. Looks good on you.”

  “Thanks. You have to stop giving me gifts like this. They’re too expensive.”

  “You planning to run around naked this winter?”

  “Don’t do that, bro.” Jim’s expression is serious. “You’ll get arrested.”

  “I hope I’ll be gone before winter sets in.” I’m standing in the kitchen watching them move.

  “Going to Mercy? I knew you would.” He nods, taking his last bite of toast. “Oh, I got that intel you wanted. Sally’s cousin said a meteorite or something formed a rift near where the cabins meet the creek. It’s about impossible to find, from what he said. In fact, he said he’s never seen it.”

  My chest tightens. “Mind if I borrow your truck?” I don’t wait for an answer. I’m already out the door.

  “Put some gas in it, dude!” Jim’s shouting behind me, but I’m in the cab, pulling down the sun visor. Keys drop in my lap, and I ram them in the ignition. I’d rather be doing this in my panther form, but I have to be able to communicate. Also, the last thing I need is to be naked in the underworld.

  It’s a grey day, and rain threatens in the sky. The temperature is fifty degrees, but the wind and gloom make it feel colder. Pressure builds in my head, pressing against my temples as I follow an enormous Lincoln Towncar down the narrow, two-lane road.

  “Who drives this slow outside of town?” I growl, fighting the urge to lay on Jim’s horn. Every second feels like an eternity.

  Finally, the old man ahead of me turns off onto a side street—after coming to a complete stop in front of me. I floor it, and he shakes a fist out his window. Ignoring that, I round the curve, pulling up at the guard shack at the lake park entrance.

  Another five, and I’m circling to the east, headed out past the cabins to where the woods begin and civilization ends. A few cars are parked near the small bungalows. I drive as far away from them as possible and park near a large dumpster. Keys in the visor, I charge into the damp forest.

  Running, I sweep my eyes over every inch of the terrain. Rolling hills covered in leaves is all I see. I start out at a jog, but as the trees grow thicker together and my path leads further from the creek, I slow my pace and double back. At one point, I come to a complete halt, listening. The faint noise of running water, an occasional bark of a squirrel, a noise like the tapping on wood, which I soon identify as a bird, are the only sounds I hear.

  If only I could scent the air. For a moment I entertain the thought of stripping, hiding these clothes in a bush while I scour the area in my panther form. I’m desperate to find her. I have to find that rift.

  Dropping to a squat, I rub my face with my hands. Mercy… I’m searching for you. My Mercy—can you hear me? I’m not convinced my thoughts travel through the barrier between our worlds, but I still try. If they do go through, I hope they give her hope.

  Waiting, I close my eyes and listen. Water, bird, squirrel. Something new… A squeal of laughter from far away on the lake. Pushing off the ground, I walk slowly back the way I came.

  My boots shuffle through the bright yellow leaves covering the ground. Their shushing sound joins the peaceful, earthly noises of the forest. Internally, I’m thinking of a new search in the library—maps of the area around Nightmoon Cabins.

  I’m frustrated and angry and almost to the clearing where I left Jim’s truck when I stop. A wave of dread shadowed across my heart. It disappeared as fast as it appeared, but I recognize it. Spinning around, I return to the woods, looking all around frantically. Up, down, everywhere. I strain my eyes, but all I see is nothing.

  Everywhere I look is brown trees, yellow leaves, dark green scrub. “Where are you?” I growl, turning again toward the parking lot. I wait several long moments, but I can’t find it. “Dammit!”

  Again, my pace is slow, and just as I’m reaching the clearing another sensation of doom passes over me. I freeze in place, looking side to side. The feeling is gone, but this time I don’t run.

  I take one backwards step… Nothing.

  I take another… Nothing.

  One more, and I double over at the waist. The sensation of evil hits me so hard I lose my breath. I stagger back, and it’s gone. My eyes squeeze shut as I instinctively place my hand on my stomach where the pain had been the most intense.

  I can’t see it, but I know it’s in front of me. It’s a narrow ribbon of dread like steam rising from an invisible vent in the earth’s surface. Stretching out my hand, I don’t feel it. The air is still, appearing the same as everything around me. I have to step into the blast to find it.

  With a deep breath, I move forward, every muscle bracing against the onslaught. A foot forward, and my breath strangles in my throat. My jaw clenches, and I groan against the ripples of pain. My eyes are squeezed shut, but I force them open. Looking to my left, I see it. A thin black line like a rip in the air waits beside me. One breath forward or backward, and it disappears as a line in a tree trunk or the flicker of a shadow in the corner of my eye. Staying carefully in the steaming waves of despair, I move to the break. It’s close.

  Two more steps, and I’m plunged into darkness.

  The ground under my boots has changed. Leaves are replaced with damp rock. I’m on a path, walking through a tunnel, but ahead I see the faintest glow of light. The sensation of doom has eased, and I decide it must be a defensive barrier, a way to keep intruders out.

  Keep going, I think. I have to keep going for Mercy. Fixing my eyes on the glowing grey light I put one foot carefully in front of the other to avoid slipping. Water trickles down the walls, and a strange rushing sound comes from somewhere miles over my head. My arms hang at my sides, fists ready to fight if I’m attacked, but I’m alone here. The cave seems empty, forgotten.

  Finally, I reach the end. I’m standing at the opening facing an eerie forest of gnarled, black trees in muted grey light. An unearthly glow illuminates the place, but it isn’t yellow or warm like the sun. It’s like smoke without a fire. It’s black and white, cold and dead.

  Mercy shines like a beacon in my memory. I don’t know where I’m going, but I walk on, figuring I’ll encounter something if I just keep moving. A screech to my right, snaps me to attention, but only a slick, black skink crawls quickly away from me.

  The path continues on, and I hear the sound of trickling water. Small flowers are scattered among the trees the closer I get to it. They grow tall on green stalks and are shaped like stars. The white petals have pink lines down the center, and I recognize them as asphodel.

  The river is in front of me. I’m on the very edge, and the lapping of the currents against small rocks is an enticing sound. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I’m overwhelmed with thirst. All the running in the forest back and forth, the searching followed by the bursts of pain have my throat aching.

  Kneeling down, I scoop a handful of water and bring it to my lips. As soon as it touches my tongue, I exhale a sigh of relief. Another handful, and my mind begins to relax. Images sway around me, and the torment of my mission fades. Sitting on the bank of the river, I lose the reason I came to this gloomy place. It slips from my mind like a ribbon of silk. What am I doing here?

  My limbs are heavy, and my eyes start to close. I struggle against the sensations pulling me down, but I don’t remember why I’m struggli
ng. It seems like I lost something. I’m trying to find it. Only, I can’t remember what it is.

  A figure appears across the lake. It’s a man dressed in black armor and a long black cape. He’s watching me with a sinister grin, and a chill moves through my insides. His hair shines white down his back like the ghostly light. Then I realize, he is the light. This seems important, but I don’t know why. I don’t know why this feeling of dread at the sight of him is familiar. I try to find the answer, but I’m so heavy. I’m not afraid of you…

  It’s my last thought before I drift into unconsciousness.

  Mercy

  Hayden’s library is a blend of dark brown, smoky grey, and forest green. The gloom still glows through the windows, but in this room, green globes are perched atop twisted brass lampstands. Enormous bookcases stretch for what seems like miles toward the roof, and they’re decorated with carvings of monsters and symbols of assorted images I don’t understand.

  When I enter, he’s sitting on a brown leather sofa holding a green hardcover book. It reminds me of a church hymnal, and he sets it aside.

  “How are you feeling today?” Rising, he crosses to me. He’s still wearing the leather body armor. I notice it has a series of buckles along his left shoulder. The cape is gone as is his crown.

  “Trapped.”

  His smile fades, and I go to a small table that holds a box shaped like a trunk. A deck of cards is also on the table beside one of the green lamps.

  “If you’re looking for something to do, I had a pottery studio built for you. You could make something.”

  “Are you trying to hurt me?”

  “Not at all. I want you to have all the things you enjoy here.” He’s standing beside me now, tall as Koa. I scowl up at him.

  “My art was my dream. It was how I was going to live my life on the coast, in the sunlight.” My eyes flash as I defy him. “Now it doesn’t matter.”