Warrior Rising (Harlequin Nocturne)

by Pamela Palmer

  Arrows clacked and thudded against car windows as if the Marceil didn’t realize they wouldn’t go through. And why should they? They didn’t have cars in Esria. Harrison doubted they even had glass.

  Esri leaped out of the fountain, one after another, taking off at a dead run into the night. Harrison grabbed his flamethrower and shield and ran for the nearest invader. Hiding from the arrows might be the smartest move, but if he wanted to save his world, hiding wasn’t an option.

  The plan was to set as many of the bastards on fire as they could. Fire wouldn’t kill them unless someone sang the death chant, but it should immobilize them for a good fifteen minutes or more. Long enough to hog-tie them and pull them into a waiting refrigerator truck tricked out with layers of iron and holly to dampen their magic. Hopefully. What they’d do with them after that, they’d yet to decide, but they’d prefer to take them prisoner rather than kill them outright, if possible.

  Harrison ran for an Esri fleeing in his direction as arrows whizzed by him. One arrow struck Harrison in the helmet, another hit his shield, but neither slowed him down. It was clear these archers’ abilities were a far cry from Tarrys’s. Either that or they fought the compulsion to fire upon the humans. Unlike humans, an enslaved Marceil maintained full awareness of what he was being forced to do. Most, he suspected, had no desire to kill them.

  He cut off the fleeing Esri and fired the flamethrower. Like magic, fire instantly engulfed the cloaked invader, his white-as-snow face taking on a mask of pain and fear. No doubt he expected to hear the death chant and explode into a million lights.

  “Today’s your lucky day,” Harrison muttered, and left him for the hog-tying crew.

  One down.

  He saw another catch fire across the park. And another.

  “Protect Jack!” Kade’s deep voice carried to him.

  Harrison saw the problem at once. Eight Esri weren’t fleeing. Instead, they were going after Kade and Jack, the two with the death marks.

  The humans might be trying to avoid killing the invaders. The Esri weren’t about to return the favor.

  Kade ran for the Esri surrounding Jack, grabbing them, one at a time, and flinging them forty or fifty feet, as if they weighed nothing. Two recruits ran to set fire to the thrown Esri before they got up again. But though Kade fought to keep them away from Jack, the Esri weren’t stupid. When Kade’s hands were full flinging one of their hapless comrades, others raced past him, avoiding the giant half-blood until three had Jack surrounded. Jack fought back, his flamethrower engaged, but while he might set one or two of the bastards on fire before they touched him, he was unlikely to get all three.

  Harrison ran for him, pulse pounding, the cold wind whipping at his face. He was almost there. Jack managed to set one of his attackers on fire, but as the Esri yelled with pain, an arrow struck Jack in the thigh. The cop went down.

  Harrison and Kade reached him at the same moment, each diving for an Esri to knock him away before he could touch Jack and destroy him, each taking one to the ground. Unlike Jack and Kade, Harrison had no death mark and was in no danger of being killed from a touch.

  Harrison’s Esri was big for his race, but no Esri without a healthy dose of human blood was muscular. While this one put up a halfway decent fight, his effort wasn’t enough. Harrison grabbed the Bic lighter out of his pocket, flicked it and shoved the flame into the bastard’s neck. As he leaped up and back, the Esri burst into flame.

  “Harrison.”

  Jack’s voice, tight with pain and something else, had him whirling around.

  The other Esri who’d been trying to reach Jack was encased in fire. But so, too, was Kade. If anyone whispered the death chant, all those trapped in flame would die instantly.

  Kade’s face was a mask of pain even though the fire that encased him was different than the others, sparkling unnaturally. Mystic fire. But like the other, it had him trapped but good.

  “The Esri…” Kade groaned. “One of the ones who got away. Was King Rith. I recognized him…too late. He’s going after the stones.”

  Hell. But they had a bigger problem at the moment. Keeping Kade alive.

  A quick look around told Harrison the only Esri still nearby were those encased in flame. “Tell me what to do, Kade.”

  “Don’t sing the death chant.”

  Harrison grunted. Who knew Esri had a sense of humor? “I figured as much. Something a little more helpful?”

  “The mystic fire will go out on its own in a couple of hours if no one activates it. But any Esri can find me. They can find any of us with death marks. They’ll be hunting us.”

  “Then we’ve got to get you out of here.” Harrison started barking out orders to the nearby Sitheen. “Get Myrtle, Larsen and Autumn.” Myrtle was an unnaturally gifted healer and Jack needed her. And both Jack and Kade needed their women right now. “Brad, get the police van over here and six cops. Strong ones.”

  They might tie and drag the other Esri into a waiting truck, but Kade was one of their own now.

  “How many did we catch?” Jack asked.

  “Ten or eleven,” Harrison replied. “But just as many escaped.”

  “Hell.”

  Larsen and Autumn ran toward them, Aunt Myrtle following at a far slower pace.

  Autumn stared in horror at Kade. “You’re going to die.”

  “Not if we have anything to say about it,” Harrison said behind her. “We’re going to load him into a closed police van and drive him out of the city until the flame dissipates.”

  The redhead’s gaze swung to Harrison. “I’m going with him.”

  “We’re both going with him.” If the Esri followed, they’d be in for another fight.

  Autumn stepped closer to Kade, her eyes throbbing with misery. “Can I touch you? Will I catch fire?”

  Kade’s expression eased. “Mystic fire can’t hurt you. It’s meant only for me.”

  “Will my touch hurt you more?”

  “Never.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Autumn stepped into those sparkling flames and slid her arms around Kade’s waist, laying her head on his shoulder. Harrison shook his head with disbelief at the absolute trust such a move took. Trust in an Esri.

  As the police van drove into the park, Harrison stepped forward and took charge. It took all six cops to lift the flaming seven-foot male, but they got him into the van and laid him on the floor. The cops climbed out and Autumn hopped in. She lay beside her fiancé, her arms slipping around his waist, her head on his shoulder, though he had no freedom of movement to hold her in return.

  Harrison watched as she lifted her head and kissed Kade. How could she love one of those creatures? Though, admittedly, Kade was half human and didn’t look Esri at all.

  He closed the door on the pair and joined the driver, one of Jack’s friends on the metropolitan police force. As they headed north on Connecticut, he pulled out his cell phone and called Charlie.

  “We’re still here, little brother.”

  Silence, then a loud exhale of air. “Thank God.”

  “Tell me you didn’t acquire a death mark in Esria.”

  Charlie was silent for the space of two heartbeats. “Can’t do that.”

  Dammit. He told him about Kade, then promised to get to Iceland as soon as he could. “Whatever you do, do not let the princess touch you.”

  At every turn, the Esri proved themselves to be more and more dangerous. As if it weren’t bad enough the Sitheen were mortals, with all their human frailties. Now half their team had death marks. All the Esri had to do was touch them and wish them dead and they would be.

  Except him.

  With a slam of understanding, he realized what had to happen. Someone had to watch and guard Princess Ilaria until the next full moon. Someone without a death mark.

  Him.

  Ah, hell.

  Chapter 3

  The sun was low on the horizon on a crystal-clear December day when Harrison and the two Sitheen recruits who
’d accompanied him arrived at the hotel in Reykjavik, Iceland. The hotel, like the city, was the definition of old-world Nordic charm.

  Harrison had barely lifted his hand to rap on Charlie’s door when the door swung open and his brother met him with a grin. They embraced, slapping one another on the back.

  “Ye of little faith,” Charlie chided, pulling away. “You were sure I wouldn’t make it.”

  Harrison didn’t deny it. “I’m glad I was wrong, little brother.”

  A flash of green across the room caught his eye, drawing his gaze. Harrison froze. On a chair beside the window, her hands tied together in her lap, sat the palest woman he’d ever seen. And, God help him, the most beautiful. Princess Ilaria. Goose bumps lifted on his forearms as the hair rose on the back of his neck. Esri.

  “Easy, bro,” Charlie said quietly. “Why don’t you come into the room?”

  She looked exactly like the painting. Exactly. Both her skin and hair were pale, pale, pale, but not the ultratoothpaste-white of some of the Esri. Creamy, like new ivory, startling and stunning against the shimmering emerald green of her gown.

  Striking.

  Her hair fell in soft curls, framing a face that might have been considered delicate on another woman. But he sensed nothing delicate about this one. Her full, sculpted mouth sat firm upon an oval face framed by a strong, finely curved jaw. Her eyes, as brilliantly emerald as her gown, flashed with intelligence and steel, reminding him she was no twentysomething-year-old, no matter what she looked like.

  Charlie thrust out his hand to the two Sitheen recruits, who were still standing in the hallway. “Charlie Rand.”

  “Brad Parsons,” the kid replied. Not such a kid, really. Not at twenty-five. Kade had found him at Quantico, training to be a U.S. Marine.

  Harrison’s gaze dipped, drawn against his will to that shimmering green gown that covered the princess neck to wrists to ankles, yet hugged her form, setting off her full breasts to perfect advantage. A charge of raw attraction bolted through his blood, horrifying him. She was Esri. But God help him, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

  “Tom Drummond,” their pilot said behind him as the introductions continued without him. Tom was mid-forties, an air force colonel Kade had found who was bored and restless at a desk job in the Pentagon. All Kade had to do was touch a human to know if he or she was Sitheen. All he had to do to convince them his story was true was cut himself and let them watch him heal in an instant.

  A top-notch recruiter.

  Like the others, Tom had taken temporary leave until they got this invasion under control. The President of the United States himself now knew the situation and had given them carte blanche to deal with it. Only a handful outside the Sitheen circle knew what was really going on. And they intended to keep it that way.

  Struggling against his unholy fascination, Harrison finally managed to wrench his gaze from Princess Ilaria. Glancing around, he took in the clean, sparse lines of the Nordic décor before noticing Tarrys standing by the foot of the bed. She gave him a small smile unlike any he’d seen on her before. Not shy this time. Not subservient. A smile of welcome. And confidence.

  She’d changed. Gone was the slave’s robe, as well as the hair that had started to grow on her head. She was dressed in leather boots, dark slacks and a thick wool sweater that nevertheless accentuated her slenderness. The picture of casual bald chic. But the differences went deeper. Gone was the skittish little slave. In her place stood a woman of bearing and confidence. A woman who held herself with pride, meeting his gaze with strength and certainty.

  Transformed.

  Just what had happened to her and his brother in that place? He had no idea, but it occurred to him that maybe Charlie’s falling for her wasn’t magic after all. At least not the unnatural kind.

  Charlie ushered them into the room and closed the door, then went to Tarrys, his gaze softening with an expression Harrison had never seen in his brother’s eyes. Adoration. Love. A look utterly returned by the petite Marceil. A soft, lovely smile wreathed Tarrys’s pretty face as she took the hand he proffered.

  Harrison was the first to admit that he was no expert on enchantment, but he knew love when he saw it. At least in other people. Hell, between Jack and Larsen, and Autumn and Kade, he was choking on the stuff. And watching Charlie and Tarrys, he was all too afraid he was indeed about to gain an immortal sister-in-law.

  Charlie pulled the small woman against him and turned to face them. “This is Tarrys, soon to be my wife.”

  “She’s bald,” Brad murmured behind him.

  Charlie merely lifted an eyebrow. “So?”

  “Sorry, sir,” Brad said with quick contrition. His gaze skipped to Tarrys. “Ma’am. I didn’t mean any offense.”

  Tarrys’s eyes turned soft with understanding. “Few women of your world go without hair. Fewer still, willingly. It’s unusual.”

  “Yes, ma’am, it is,” Brad said. “Still, I should have kept the thought to myself.”

  “Neither of the women are human?” Tom asked. Harrison had briefed the men about Ilaria, but not Tarrys.

  Charlie’s gaze sharpened, but his voice remained even. “Both are from Esria. Both are immortal. Tarrys is a Marceillian priestess who’s been enslaved by the Esri.”

  “And I am Princess Ilaria, the rightful queen of Esria.” Ilaria’s firm yet melodious voice filled the room. It was a voice that pleasured Harrison’s ears and sent a thrill skating over his skin, raising goose bumps.

  He frowned at his unwarranted reaction to her voice. Was she employing some kind of royal enchantment on them? But as he glanced at the others, he saw curiosity in their eyes, perhaps even awe. But not attraction. Not one looked like he felt as if his lungs were being squeezed from the inside out.

  Her words echoed in the room, ringing with conviction and truth, yet somehow lacking arrogance. She was their prisoner, yet her green eyes revealed no fear. Instead, cunning and intelligence sparkled in those extraordinary eyes. Perhaps even a hint of humor. Was she laughing at them? Were they fools to believe they could capture a rattler and turn it against their enemies without getting struck themselves?

  Her wide, well-shaped mouth curled ever so slightly upward as if a smile were indeed about to bloom on her face, and he watched with an anticipation that had chills of another kind sliding over his flesh. His reaction to her wasn’t right, it wasn’t natural.

  Her otherness, her Esri-ness, should have repelled him. He knew that.

  Yet from the moment he’d set eyes on her, he hadn’t been able to turn away.

  Dammit.

  He clapped his hands together, desperate to break the spell, shifting the attention back to him. “Let’s get going. D.C.’s crawling with Esri and we need to get back.”

  Charlie made a move toward the princess. Harrison’s heart plummeted to his stomach as he remembered the way Kade had gone up in flames at a single touch. Harrison lunged forward. “I’ve got her, Charlie.”

  His brother glanced at him, his eyebrow arcing. “She’s tied to the chair.”

  “Then I’ll be the one to untie her. I don’t have a death mark.” He didn’t get his brother back only to lose him again, not like that.

  Charlie shrugged. “She’s all yours.”

  Harrison pushed past his brother and Tarrys. The princess, sitting with her back ramrod straight on the chair, watched him draw near, snagging his gaze—not gently, not kindly. Her eyes, as brilliant as the finest emeralds, bore into his, warning of battle even as they whispered of laughter. And shimmered with heat.

  She’d no doubt noticed him staring at her. He steeled himself against this unholy fascination, but as he bent over her shoulder to untie the knot that held her firmly to the chair, the scent of her hair rushed his senses, slamming him with raw desire. She smelled at once exotic and sweet, like gardenias in a tropical garden. The scent drugged him. Intoxicated him.

  Hell.

  His fingers fumbled with the rope, finally freeing the knot. When
he pushed back, straightening, he found her watching him with eyes warm and electric, as if she could feel the hammering of his pulse. As if hers pounded as well.

  He tried to look away and failed, mesmerized by her high cheekbones and the perfect shape of her nose. By the curve of her jaw and that lush, ripe mouth that lifted at the corners ever so slightly. Even her skin enthralled him and his fingers itched to know if the pale marble perfection could possibly feel as warm and silken soft as it appeared.

  As the blood pounded through his body, his mind recoiled at the turn of his thoughts. She was casting some kind of enchantment over him. There was no other explanation. With more roughness than he’d intended, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet, her hands still tied in front of her.

  “Let’s go, Princess.”

  “No.” To his surprise, she fought him, digging in her heels. That touch of humor had vanished, her eyes snapping with pride and anger. “Free me entirely, human. I’m tired of being bound.”

  He met those brilliant eyes, for a moment stumbling into their green depths before he found his footing and steeled himself with his own anger.

  “As long as you’re near anyone with a death mark, you’re staying tied.”

  “I’m not a fool. I’m not going to harm my allies. Charlie is my way to the stones.”

  “He was. Now we all are. I’m thinking you might consider him expendable.”

  “And what would you do if I killed him here and now?” Her words cut as she lifted her chin and stared at him.

  Ignoring the unfortunate attraction still pounding through his veins, he tightened his grip on her arm, yanking her around until he was fully in her face. “If you harm my brother in any way, the gates be damned. I’ll kill you.”

  She nodded calmly. “Which is why I would be a fool to try to harm him. I don’t care that he has a death mark.” One blond eyebrow rose. “I might even be inclined to forgive the mark once I have my stones.”

  He stilled. “You can remove death marks?”

  “I can, as the rightful queen.”

  “Then do it.”