by Brenda Trim
SCARRED WARRIOR
Brenda Trim and Tami Julka
Copyright © 2016 by Brenda Trim and Tami Julka
eISBN:9781634525992
Editor: Amanda Fitzpatrick
Cover Art by Patricia Schmitt (Pickyme)
*****
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writers’ imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the authors.
Dedication
During the course of writing this book we experienced many challenges, including great loss, which left permanent scars. This book is for every individual who carries marks from the journey of life. Scars are beautiful so wear them proudly because it means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.
Table of contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Pema’s Storm excerpt
Isis’ Betrayal excerpt
Suvi’s Revenge excerpt
Authors’ Note
Other Works by Authors
CHAPTER ONE
Gerrick paced another circuit through the warriors milling around, anxious as hell to get the show on the road. “I say we go in guns blazing, right now. And, I know we don’t use guns, Mack, so don’t go being a smart ass,” he snarled at the female who hadn’t actually said anything. His muscles twitched in his arms and he reached for his weapons. Adrenaline dumped into his system, making his heart race.
Mack, Prince Kyran’s Fated Mate, threw up her hands. “Don’t pick on me, Oscar the Grouch. I’m ready to get in there, too. I’m the one who found them, remember?”
Before Mack mated Kyran and became an intricate part of their group, she stumbled upon the archdemon’s lair and discovered where he was holding several females prisoner. Gerrick and his fellow warriors had been searching ceaselessly, night and day for the location of the missing females, but were unsuccessful. It had been a source of frustration for him that he hadn’t been able to protect the females from harm. It was his duty as a Dark Warrior to protect the innocent from the demons and their minions.
Zander placed his hand on Gerrick’s shoulder, stopping him mid-stride. “Patience. We canna go in without setting up the barriers. Pema, Isis and Suvi are doing their part now and you and Jace are up next. Focus on that.”
Gerrick took a deep breath, knowing the Vampire King was right, but it was difficult when his blood was calling for him to take action. It was a painful compulsion that was impossible to ignore, but there was no mistaking the command in Zander’s tone. Gerrick took several more deep breaths, trying to settle his anxiousness and concentrate on what he needed to do next.
Gerrick paused next to Jace and pulled his staff out of its magical pocket of space in the Goddess’ realm. Immediately, he felt the additional power surge through his limbs. The seven-foot, gnarled, basswood pole was given to him by his father when he became an adult and his thumb went unerringly to the small silver pendant wrapped around the leather grip. Sorrow and rage spiked, making it difficult to focus. Not willing to let himself get mired in the past, he checked his surroundings in the dark parking lot.
Gerrick wasn’t comfortable with the number of humans in the area. They were about to stir the hornet’s nest and he didn’t want innocent bystanders harmed because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It went against his warrior’s oath, but there was nothing they could do about it since Kadir had set up shop in the middle of downtown Seattle.
He glanced around the corner of the brick building and braced himself against the bitter wind and chilling rain. He watched a human male hurry from a shop and make his way in their direction. Gerrick quickly muttered a spell, sending the male into a nearby coffee chop, or at least, Gerrick thought it was a coffee shop. The old-fashioned architecture and brickwork of the businesses in Pioneer Square were all so similar it was hard to tell them apart. He shrugged figuring the human was safe enough.
“This is a much bigger area than we have ever covered before, Zander,” Pema piped up a few seconds later. “There are so many exits to consider. I’m not sure we can do this.” Gerrick turned around and saw that the witch triplets were holding hands and each of their mates was touching their shoulders. He watched the vibrant pinks and red lights of their magic swirl around their bodies. To his sensitive sorcerer’s vision it was bright, almost blinding.
He had faith the witches could manage to spell. After all, the freshly-crowned High Priestesses were by far the most powerful witches in the Tehrex Realm and were the most recent additions to the Dark Alliance Council.
Zander caught his attention as he slid his sgian dubh into the sheath around his waist. Zander’s presence was vast and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was a king. It was his inherent power and confidence. Gerrick was surrounded by the most powerful men in the realm, but none of them held a candle to Zander. The thing that made him so extraordinary was that he shared this power and confidence with those around him. “I know this is a large area and ‘tis going to be impossible to include all possible exits. Cover as many as you can, but leave the ones that lead to the water open. The water will help hem them in. The goal is to keep the demons from fleeing, but, first and foremost, we canna allow feral skirm to get out and attack humans.”
Music blared into the night as the door to a bar on Yesler Street opened and several humans stumbled out. Collectively, the group of supernaturals tensed, and no one uttered a word.
“It would be nice if you had the power to order everyone out of the area, Zander,” Gerrick mumbled. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and took in a lungful of acrid urine with a backdrop of briny sea. It was enough to make him gag and nearly lose his dinner.
“You guys are overthinking this,” Mack piped up. “It’s two a.m. and any people who are walking around right now are probably drunk and certainly not paying attention to us. Besides, we aren’t near a residential area. Just minimize the risk these bastards will pose and let’s get in there.” Gerrick liked the feisty female and smiled when he saw her latest t-shirt that said ‘I love my bloodsucker.’ She was always referring to her mate as a bloodsucker, or leech, or some other smartass term and Gerrick had no doubt that Kyran must have given her the tee.
“Make sure to stay by my side, Firecracker. I doona want you running in their thinking you can take on the whole lair. You may be immortal now, but you’re no’ invincible,” Kyran told her, tugging on a strand of her sp
iky, black hair. The vampire prince had undergone a drastic attitude change when he had been stuck in the dragon realm with his mate, and was no longer the unhappy, distant warrior that he used to be. Gerrick acknowledged the new Kyran was definitely a change for the better.
“Ok, we’re done. You guys are up.” Pema’s voice jolted Gerrick’s thoughts, making his pulse leap. They were one step closer to going in and it was none too soon.
“Thanks,” Gerrick nodded and checked to make sure Jace was ready. Jace was the healer of their group, but also a kick-ass fighter and the most powerful sorcerer in the realm and Gerrick was glad to have the male fighting by his side. Jace met his gaze and they began chanting in the old language.
Green, blue and purple lights of Jace and Gerrick’s magic were added to the reds and pinks of the witches. Gerrick locked in on the ten-block boundary the witches had cast around Pioneer Square and wove his enchantments with theirs. When the last word of the spell left his lips, he was sweating and breathing hard, but the flash of white light signaled that they had been successful.
Gerrick turned to Zander, “It’s done, Liege,” he informed. Sorcerers had the ability to see magic whereas the other supernaturals could only feel it. Only the sorcerers had seen the flash of white indicating the spell was completed.
Zander shifted his stance, his authoritative tone grabbing everyone’s attention. “Hayden, take your shifters and wait by your entrance. Kyran, take your group to your spot. The rest of you, follow me. Everyone sync the time, we enter in five. Remember, our mission here is to get in and rescue the females and take oot the archdemons if we can.”
“Stay alert,” Gerrick told the witches and their mates, who would all be remaining behind. “The females may be feral and try to escape. We have to be prepared for the worst case scenarios.” He shuddered to think about what horrors they had been suffering at the hands of such evil. It hadn’t sat well with him to delay the rescue after Elsie had her premonition, but they all knew better than to dismiss the warning so they had waited.
He adjusted his black leather jacket and returned his staff, wishing he’d chosen a heavier coat since the weather was decidedly cold in December in Seattle, especially so close to the water. But leather offered more protection against knives and teeth, so everyone was dressed in leather from head to toe.
“What do we do if we encounter them?” Suvi asked, pursing her lips and stomping her impossibly high heels on the pavement. How the witch managed to stand, much less run or fight, was a mystery to him, but she didn’t seem fazed by them one bit.
“Contain them, but doona harm them unless there is no choice. Jessie is proof that females are no’ mindless like male skirm. We are here to help them,” Zander replied, echoing Gerrick’s thoughts. “Alright, move oot.”
Gerrick jumped into motion behind Kyran and Mack. Their group silently made their way to a stairwell that led down to the Underground. The area wasn’t ideal to face demons and skirm. They were entering the burned remains of Seattle and Gerrick had no doubt it wasn’t the most stable of areas, especially when considering a battle.
Gerrick recalled what Seattle was like before the great Fire of 1889. There were horse-drawn carriages and dirt roads, and there wasn’t this sense of urgency to get from one place to the next. It was vastly different from the city today. Then again, life in general back then was very different without modern technology. Gerrick enjoyed the easier way of life, but wouldn’t want to give up his cell phone and the Internet. Having information at the tips of his fingers was invaluable to their work.
The group made their way down weathered cement steps and Kyran paused at the bottom when Mack put her hand on his arm. “Don’t get dead, bloodsucker,” the inked female muttered.
Kyran smiled broadly and stroked her pink cheek with one finger. “Doona do something stupid, like taking on Kadir.” Gerrick watched as Mack smiled wryly and nodded. This was their version of ‘I love you.’ They weren’t the mushy type of couple and Gerrick was glad of that. The last thing he needed was to have it rubbed in his face of what he would never have.
Gerrick looked back over his shoulder and took stock of their group. Aside from himself, Mack, and Kyran, there was Rhys and the New Orleans Dark Warriors. Rhys was Gerrick’s patrol partner. Like Gerrick, Rhys lived at Zeum with the Seattle Dark Warriors. He was the jokester of their group, always pulling practical jokes on everyone, but Gerrick knew there was more lurking beneath the surface with Rhys.
The sound of metal screeching caught his attention as Kyran forced the door open and made his way into the building. The second the door fully opened the scent of mold and stale air hit him. Underlying it he caught hints of rodents, feces, urine and skirm. As they descended a flight of stairs, weathered cement gave way to newer wooden ones. The human authorities were often replacing rotted sections of the underground and Gerrick wondered why the humans hadn’t run into the demons before now. Kadir must be expending a lot of energy to keep his lair hidden.
The next section was very narrow, and they had to go single file. He noted the brick of the previous buildings was wearing away, and in need of repair. They passed several unrecognizable businesses, and had to climb over timber and other debris. What struck him as odd were the many old toilets and it was beyond him that humans left this stuff to rot down here.
Gerrick cocked his ears and heard noise in the distance and pointed in the direction they needed to travel. Aison, one of the New Orleans Dark Warriors, jumped over an old, faded sofa and disturbed a family of rats. Gerrick had to hold back his laugh when the warrior did a little jig to avoid the scurrying rodents.
It was a maze down there and difficult to maneuver at times, which were definitely not ideal fighting conditions. There was so much flammable material all around them that Gerrick worried they would spark the next devastating Seattle fire when they killed the skirm. Unfortunately, Gerrick didn’t see a way around using titanium blades on the skirm since it was the easiest way to kill them.
The scent of brimstone and death heightened, telling him they were close. Kyran held up his hand and they all stopped.
“The females are around the corner and down the hall,” Mack whispered.
Gerrick cast a silencing spell over their group and they crept on silent feet around the corner and discovered they were near the old steam baths. It was far less cluttered and it was obvious someone had cleared out most of the rubble, converting the space into living quarters.
Kyran opened the door and flattened against the wall, with the rest of them following suit. Gerrick wanted to laugh at what he imagined was a comical sight with nine large males standing flat against the wall as if pinned there.
Kyran poked his head around and his stance relaxed. They unfolded from the wall and Gerrick noticed that the business they were entering used to be an apothecary, at least according to the chipping paint on the dirt-encrusted window. Several walls had been knocked down to create one large space and the room was empty except for a large circular cage in the middle.
A crash suddenly sounded and Mack took off running, Kyran cursing as he chased after her. The rest of them were in motion a second later and they all came to a sudden halt inside a space that was dark, musty and crowded with cages. These cages were much smaller compared to the last one they saw, and were all full of females. Gerrick stumbled as the stench nearly bowled him over. There were so many different odors competing for dominance it was dizzying. Gerrick detected rotting flesh, feces, urine, and brimstone, as well as, moldy, charred fabric and wood. He glanced around and saw a pile of corpses in the corner in various stages of decomposition and shuddered in revulsion. Those poor beings deserved better than to be tossed aside like garbage.
Gerrick didn’t have time to stop and consider anything further as the room was in the midst of a battle between demons and Zander’s group. Gerrick recognized the hellhounds from a previous battle at Woodland Park, and bit back a curse. They were vicious beasts and relentless in their pursuit. The
re were also fury demons and large slimy green demons. He needed to try and put a muzzle on his anger, but the sight before him was infuriating. The last thing he wanted was to feed the fury demons power.
Before he could react, a slavering dog the size of a horse charged into him, knocking him down. He jumped up, weapons in hand and slashed the dog’s snout. A high-pitched whine and shake of the head was all the injury earned Gerrick, but it was enough for him to sever the tendon on one of its front paws. Unfortunately, the beast wasn’t slowed down on three legs. It glared at him through glowing red eyes, the desire to kill clearly expressed.
Completely focused on his target, Gerrick danced out of the next charge. He cursed when he wasn’t fast enough to avoid its canines. When the hound’s teeth didn’t break through his leather, Gerrick was glad he hadn’t gone with the warmer clothing.
Taking the offensive, Gerrick charged the demon and wrapped his arms around its thick neck. He head-butted the beast when it snapped at his face, keeping a firm grip on the animal. Gerrick lifted his weapon, opening himself up to the beast. He brought down his sgian dubh and cut into slick, black skin while canines clamped down on his shoulder and gnawed, slowly working their way through the leather.
Grimacing, Gerrick never let up and plunged his knife into the hellhound, trying to hit its heart. He could feel the dog moving them across the floor until metal bars of a cage instead scraped against his back. Finally, after several minutes his weapon hit its mark and the hellhound let out a screech that sounded a lot like tires skidding on asphalt and went still in his embrace. Gerrick gave one last twist of the blade, ensuring the beast was dead. He let go and kicked the hound away.
Gerrick jumped when a hand touched his injured shoulder. Panting and out of breath, Gerrick turned and his heart stopped for several beats when he caught sight of the female in the cage. She was stark naked. Her neck and shoulder had thick scars from obvious bite marks and she was bruised from head to toe. And she was filthy. Her hair was tangled mess and he thought it may be red, but it was hard to tell with how dirty it was. However, it was her eyes that stopped him cold. Their jade green depths were haunted, and, for some reason, very familiar.