Eliana's Warlord

by Jory Strong

Thanks for reading Eliana's Warlord. I hope you enjoyed it!

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  I love connecting with readers! Visit my website at http://www.jorystrong.com (where you can also sign up to receive Book Alerts) or contact me at jory@jorystrong.com. I can also be found on Twitter and Facebook.

  Some of my other works are…

  Inked Magic and the sequel, Inked Destiny: A ménage set in modern-day San Francisco where a changeling tattoo artist has come to the attention of two very compelling men—the son of a mob boss and an Elven lord.

  Ghostland series: Set in a post-apocalyptic world where supernatural beings no longer hide their existence, and where angels and Djinn are heading for the ultimate battle over who will control Earth.

  Supernatural Bonds series: Witches, Weres, faeries, elves, dragons, Drui and demons, there's something for everyone as each heroine meets her perfect hero—or heroes.

  Fallon Mates series: To avoid extinction, there's only one hope for the winged inhabitants of the planet Belizair. Come to Earth and claim the perfect, genetically-matched mate, the catch—it has to be done in pairs, a feather-winged Amato must share a lover with a suede, bat-winged Vesti.

  Crime Tells: Where mystery, family, and finding love while working as private investigators come together in a contemporary world.

  The Angelini: In a modern day world where vampires and Weres exist, the Old Magic is returning, and the Angelini, who always take at least two mates, guard mankind against the predators hidden among them.

  And there are more, stand-alone stories. Information on them can be found at: http://www.jorystrong.com.

  Excerpt from Inked Magic

  Fog turned the cemetery into shades of black and gray. It lay on those gathered around the grave, a wet, heavy shroud muting the sounds of grieving as the priest spoke his final words and mourners moved toward the immediate family.

  Cathal didn't cross to offer his condolences though his mother did, resplendent in designer black and tasteful jewelry. He remained in place even as his father and uncle departed without a word.

  They glided through the fog like a pair of ravens, black coats shiny with moisture. Harbingers of death, he thought, knowing that scattered among the mourners were police as well as FBI and ATF agents.

  He lingered, trying to recall the dead girl's face, to dredge up personal memories of Caitlyn, something beyond the smiling photographs present in the funeral home. He failed. All that came to him were thoughts of his cousin, Brianna, and with it, guilt over how seldom their lives intersected.

  In the span of a year Brianna had lost her mother and brother.

  And now this.

  Drugs and gang rape and the death of a friend.

  Insanity and murder, if not by intention, then by end result.

  He should have made more time for her. He should have . . .

  With an acknowledgment of failure, he left the gravesite, returning to the long line of automobiles parked against the curb, transport back to everyday life.

  Two heavily muscled men emerged from the gloom as his father and uncle neared identical dark-windowed Mercedes. The men opened back doors, then stood, waiting at attention like the soldiers they were.

  Words passed between the brothers. Icy intensity rather than heated argument, accompanied by a glance in his direction before his uncle climbed into a car and was driven away.

  A sense of foreboding settled around him but he didn't slow his footsteps or refuse when his father indicated with a wave that he was to get into the back of the remaining Mercedes. He surrendered his cell phone, a precaution against being listened in on by the authorities, then got into the car.

  The doors closed, walling off sound and the possibility of being overheard. His father's eyes locked onto his. "The animals responsible for this can't go unpunished."

  Despite knowing his father's idea of justice involved a shot to the back of the head and an unmarked grave, he said, "I agree."

  "Good."

  The tension left his father. "Good," he repeated. "A source passed on a name at the funeral. There's an artist who can help us identify the guilty parties. But there's a complication."

  The sense of foreboding deepened. "What complication?"

  "She might be related to a cop. The guy who passed on the name didn't know whether it was true or not. All he could say for sure was that she's got a freaky way with victims."

  "So call in a favor. Have a case file opened. There's enough about what happened to Brianna and Caitlyn to force an investigation. Let the police make arrangements with the artist. Let them handle it officially and prosecute the guilty parties."

  His father tilted his head toward the empty parking place in front of the Mercedes. "This is personal business. Something your uncle and I need to take care of ourselves. The sooner the better. If you were around more—and I'm not saying you should be, I understand your reasons and I respect your decision—then you'd know Denis isn't thinking straight. First losing Margo then Brian. Now this.

  "He's hurting. And a man in that much pain is capable of striking out, damn the consequences. That's why I'm asking you to run interference here, to minimize the collateral damage by approaching this woman. Pull the right strings to get her to visit Brianna and come up with pictures of the responsible parties.

  "Maybe it'll be simple. Cash for services rendered. Maybe she wants to be a rock star and you can make it happen for her. Maybe she's lonely and you can convince her between the sheets. Show her a little love so she'll want to help out here and be willing to keep quiet about it afterwards. If you set your mind to it, you can get it done."

  "And if I don't? If I can't?"

  His father shrugged. "Then my conscience is clear. I've tried to do the right thing, walk the line as much as I can given the situation. But I'm not going to stand between Denis and the animals responsible for drugging and raping his baby girl. I'm not going to turn my back on family. Justice will be served on behalf of those two girls, regardless of whether you involve yourself in this matter or not."

  Cathal curled his hand into a fist and fought the urge to answer the verbal jab. He looked beyond his father, at the mourners moving through the fog, leaving Caitlyn to be lowered into her grave.

  After a lifetime of keeping his distance, of staying clear of his father and uncle's business, he wondered if he was about to take the first step on a slippery slope that ended in prison or violent death for most of those who took it.

  "How much time do I have to convince her?"

  About the Author

  I've been writing since childhood and have never outgrown being a daydreamer. When I'm not hunched over my computer, lost in the muse and conjuring up new heroes and heroines, I can usually be found reading, riding horses, or walking dogs.

  My stories have won numerous awards, as well as been national best sellers. I live in California with my husband and a menagerie of pets.

  I love connecting with readers! Visit my website at http://www.jorystrong.com or contact me at jory@jorystrong.com. I can also be found on Twitter and Facebook.