Her warrior heart admired his skill; her woman’s body admired him on a whole different level….
Lusahn dropped the bundle of clothing on the ground. “Put these on. The shirt and pants should fit. You’ll have to wear your own…”
She lost the word she was looking for at the sight of Cullen stripping off his shirt. His skin was smooth and golden, his muscles flexing as he moved. She forced her eyes down to the ground and away from all of that skin that her fingers itched to touch. As soon as they reached his feet, the word came back to her. “Shoes. You must wear your shoes.”
When he reached for the fastening on his pants, she felt her face go hot and turned away, pretending to be standing watch. As a Guardian, she had served alongside men for years. It was nothing for her and her Blade to strip in front of each other, but that was different. They were her kind and of her world.
This Cullen Finley disturbed her in ways she did not understand. She kept her eyes firmly focused away from him and all of that warm golden skin. The only normal thing about him was his dark hair, although he wore it cut too short for her taste. And those dark eyes looked at her with too much curiosity and far too much heat. His gaze had a weight to it that she’d never felt before, as if he could caress her with merely a glance.
“This is so hot!”
—USA Today bestselling author Suzanne Sizemore
Glowing praise for Alexis Morgan
and her mesmerizing paranormal series
REDEEMED IN DARKNESS
“Captivating, compelling, and totally hot! When an alien warrior captures his interest, sexy Paladin Cullen never dreams that they’ll both face death and destruction of all they hold dear as she also captures his heart. Don’t miss this series!”
—Alyssa Day, USA Today bestselling author of Atlantis Rising
IN DARKNESS REBORN
“Utterly compelling. I love these hunky, sexy, heroic guys! Great sexual tension action. Really terrific and totally unique.”
—Katherine Stone, author of Caroline’s Journal
DARK PROTECTOR
“An innovative storyline, passionate protective champions, and lots of surprising twists…. Don’t be left out—pick up a copy, settle in, and enjoy the journey.”
—Romance Reviews Today
“A complex paranormal fantasy that pulls readers in from the first page and doesn’t let them go.”
—Paranormal Romance Writers
“Alexis Morgan enchants the reader immediately…. Dark Protector is an exciting new book in the paranormal genre and one readers definitely should not miss.”
—Kwips and Kritiques
DARK DEFENDER
“An intense plot with twists and turns and wonderful surprises.”
—Paranormal Romance Writers
“Tons of suspense and drama. With her latest, Morgan proves that she’s…here to stay!”
—Romantic Times
Also by Alexis Morgan
In Darkness Reborn
Dark Defender
Dark Protector
Pocket Star Books
A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2007 by Patricia L. Pritchard
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
POCKET STAR BOOKS and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
ISBN-10: 1-4165-7554-5
ISBN-13: 978-1-4165-7554-2
Visit us on the World Wide Web:
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Acknowledgments
I ’d like to acknowledge all those fans who take the time out of their busy days to let me know how much my Paladins have meant to them. Thank you for making my work such a joy!
I would like to dedicate this book to my big brother and his wonderful wife—John and Diana Rodgers.
Thanks for always being there.
Chapter 1
T he barrier shimmered and stretched thin, its beautiful cascade of color giving way to streaks of sickly light. Lusahn shared her brother Barak’s ability to read the barrier’s moods and knew it would fail soon. Very soon.
She drew her sword, its familiar weight grounding her against the emotions threatening to shatter her control: anger, grief, and a deep sense of betrayal that made her blood boil.
Barak was alive.
Alive, but living and thriving among the enemy. The evidence of his treason was a note he’d written and tossed across from the enemy world into hers. By the laws of her people, he was condemned, only awaiting the swing of a sword to carry out the execution. Her sword, her duty. Her brother.
She closed her eyes.
She had grieved over him when he’d sought out the light of the other world, knowing that it meant certain death at the hands of Earth’s warrior clan. Yet as she’d mourned his passing, she’d at least understood it.
Glaring at the note in her hand, she once again read Barak’s angular scrawl, asking for a brief meeting at an appointed time, asking that she cooperate with the enemy for the sake of both of their worlds.
He had to know that she would be waiting for him, sword in hand. Her first duty as a Sworn Guardian was to protect their people, even from themselves. And with their parents both gone, defending the family honor was her duty. At least they’d been spared knowing of their son’s treason. No matter what pressures had driven him into the light, she would not, could not, forgive a betrayal of this magnitude.
Barak had been considered truly blessed in their world because of his affinity with not just the blue jewels that gave them light, but with stones of all kinds. A gift as strong as his came along perhaps once in a generation.
How could he live among the enemy, when his own world needed him so badly? When she needed him? What had he found in that strange place of light that had ensnared him?
In her mind, she saw the warrior whom she’d fought on her single crossing into the light. She and the three members of her Blade had followed the trail of stolen blue jewels across the barrier with the intent of dragging the thieves back to stand trial for their crimes. Unfortunately, the Paladin warriors had already executed the traitors.
She and her Blade had hoped to return to their world without incident, but they’d run into two of the enemy at the edge of the barrier. She’d signaled her Blade to occupy the green-eyed devil while she took on his companion.
Even now she could remember the power with which her opponent had fought. With his dark eyes blazing, he’d dazzled her with his sleek moves. His bigger friend fought her Blade with brute strength and muscle, but this one had danced with lethal grace and beauty.
Her warrior heart had admired his skill; her woman’s body had admired him on a whole different level. More often than she cared to admit, the human had revisited her in dreams. She shook her head. Now was not the time for such thoughts.
The barrier flickered again, almost but not quite failing. She moved closer, ready to face her brother one last time. Her soul ached with the pain, but she would do her duty. It was all she had left.
Cullen Finley had a decision to make. Among his fellow Paladins, he was nicknamed “the Professor” because of his calm, thoughtful demeanor. If he did what he was contemplating, though, his image would change forever. As would his life.
He had to be out of his freakin’ mind.
Sure, someone had to deliver Barak’s message to his sister, asking if she’d be willing to call a truce long enough to solve the mystery of who was smuggling the blue stones from her world into his. Ever since someone had told the Others that they could buy their way into this world with blue garnets, they’d been pouring across the barrier in ever-increasing numbers.
Far too many Others had died, learning too late that the Paladins’ swords were all that awaited them here. He’d killed his fair share; they all had. And the constant fighting had taken its toll on the Paladins. Even though their genetic makeup allowed them to come back from the dead, it did so at a terrible cost.
If things continued so, there wouldn’t be enough Paladins left to mount a defense against the crazed Others. Someone had to stem the tide of invasion, or swarms of the bloodthirsty bastards would run free in the streets, out of their minds and killing anything that moved.
Barak had planned to meet with his sister himself, but he’d been faced with a nightmare of a choice: save the human woman he so obviously loved, or wait at the barrier to confront his sister. It had taken Barak less than a heartbeat to choose. After scribbling a note to Lusahn, he’d asked Cullen to throw it across the barrier, the same way they’d delivered the first letter asking for a meeting. Then he’d charged off to rescue Lacey Sebastian.
Which brought Cullen back to his own situation. Lusahn—he’d never forgotten their encounter. She’d left him with a small scar on his face, a much bigger one on his ribs, and her image burned into his brain.
The barrier was weakening again, the vibrant colors fading away. He had hoped that it would hold long enough to give the rest of the Seattle Paladins a chance to rest. After restoring the barrier when it had failed, they’d spent the entire night digging Barak out from under tons of rock. From what Lonzo had told him, the Other had sacrificed himself to give Lacey’s brother time to get her out of danger.
Barak’s injuries had been serious and someone should let Barak’s sister know why he couldn’t come. Just that quickly, Cullen made his decision. He would hand-deliver Barak’s message to tell Lusahn why her brother wasn’t there. The only question was whether she would let Cullen live long enough to explain.
He hoped so. She would doubtless carve him into little pieces for even thinking such a thing, but he very much wanted to taste her passion. The idea had him grinning as the barrier disappeared with a flash of light, bringing the shadow world beyond into view.
And then there she was, her pale angry eyes glancing around before finally focusing on Cullen. She wore her dark, silver-streaked hair in a waist-length braid. Her black tunic and close-fitting pants outlined her lithe figure in exquisite detail. The impact of her stark beauty slammed into his chest, making it difficult to breathe.
With a nod, he sheathed his weapon and stepped forward. Her blade came up to rest against his throat just as the barrier flickered back to life, cutting off his avenue of retreat. Cullen smiled and wondered if he was about to meet his fate or his future. Holding out the envelope, he waited to find out which it would be.
Her chin came up a notch and her eyes narrowed. “Where is he?”
Her words were heavily accented, but intelligible.
“Last night, he was injured badly enough that he couldn’t be here. Before that happened, he wrote you a message.” Cullen slowly raised his hand with the envelope in it.
Lusahn glanced at it long enough to read the message Barak had scrawled on it, her mouth set in a grim line. “Open it.”
He did as she ordered, careful not to make any sudden moves. His close-up view of her sword told him that it had been honed by a master’s hand. One slip this close to his carotid artery, and he’d bleed out before she could summon help—if she would even bother. More likely she’d wait until the barrier flickered again, and roll his dead body across for his friends to find.
He eased the letter out of the envelope and slowly brought it up for her to read. As her eyes moved swiftly down the page, he didn’t need a translator to read her body language. The woman was seriously pissed, and getting more so by the moment—which didn’t bode well for him, since he was stuck in this world until the next time the barrier went down.
Her silver eyes, so like her brother’s, studied the paper for several seconds before turning back to Cullen.
He said, “I know I’m not who you expected, but that doesn’t change anything. We need to stop the theft of the stones. Can we talk?” He held his hands out to the side, palms up, trying his best to look harmless.
She kept the sword firmly against his neck. “I didn’t come here to talk. I came to execute a traitor.”
He’d known she might be angry that her brother had chosen to live with the enemy, but hadn’t thought she would come after Barak with deadly intent. He felt obligated to speak in Barak’s defense.
“Barak has told us nothing of your world, nor has he aided us in any way that would bring your people harm. He wants to stop the theft of blue stones as much as we do.”
Barak had guarded his secrets well—unless he’d let something slip to Lacey Sebastian or Laurel Young. He was as much a mystery today as he had been when he’d first crossed the barrier and risked his own life to save Laurel’s.
“He has chosen the enemy over his own people.” Bitterness and anger underscored every word.
“I can’t argue about that. But I do know that your people are dying in bigger numbers, and so are my friends. You can kill me instead of your brother, but that will only add to the bloodshed.”
She stared at him in silence, as if to measure his worth. Finally she eased the blade away from his neck far enough that he could swallow without fearing the motion would kill him.
“Paladins have always killed my people. Why do you care how many die?”
It was an honest question that deserved an honest answer. “It is my job to defend my world with my sword and my blood, just as you defend the people of this one with yours. That doesn’t mean I enjoy killing.”
In fact, he’d killed until his muscles and soul ached from the pain of it all. As resilient as Paladins were, eventually they did die, usually with a shitload of poison shoved in their veins by the very people they were born to protect. No one had ever questioned the constant cycle of fighting and death, because the Others crossed the barrier out of their minds and with weapons drawn.
Until Barak. The bastard could swing a sword with the best of them, but he was no crazed killer any more than Cullen was. Lusahn might not see it that way, though, having once faced him in battle.
“Do you remember me?” The words slipped out.
Her hand touched the side of her face where a small scar marred her otherwise-perfect skin. “Is that why you came? You thought I would show mercy because we once danced in battle.”
No, he’d come because he wanted to dance with her in a way that involved the two of them getting naked. Now probably wasn’t the best time to mention that.
“I thought if you recognized me, you’d let me live long enough to explain what we wanted.”
“And if I don’t care what you want?” The sword moved closer again, but clearly she did care. It was there in the pain showing in her beautiful eyes, and in the fact that she hadn’t killed him.
Yet.
“We have to do something to fill the time until the barrier goes down again. We can talk, or…” He let his eyes journey down the length of her long, lean body, taking his time and enjoying the trip. When he got back to her face again, he smiled.
Her pale skin flushed pink, although that could be temper rather than interest in what he’d been offering. Then she frowned.
“We would have to talk a long time, Paladin. The barrier will b
e up for most of the next moon cycle.”
How long was a moon cycle? On Earth, it was a little more than four weeks. Here, he had no way of knowing.
“How do you know it won’t go right back down? It’s been unstable for weeks.”
“I was born with the same ability as my brother to know such things.”
That sneaky bastard! Barak had never mentioned that little fact. And he’d been working with Lacey Sebastian, who was trying to find a way to predict the earthquakes and volcanic eruptions that usually preceded the barrier’s failing. Devlin would find Barak’s talent most interesting—if Cullen lived long enough to tell him.
He carefully turned his head to look back at the barrier. Its bright colors were back to full strength. Son of a bitch, she was probably telling the truth. And here he was without his toothbrush, or even a clean change of underwear.
“So how long is a moon cycle? A month? A day? A week?”
She scrunched up her nose, looking adorable as she calculated the time. “Two of your weeks, maybe a little less or more.”
He glanced around the shadowy passage they stood in. “Then I guess I’ll make myself comfortable here and wait it out.”
Lusahn rolled her eyes. “And live on what, Paladin? You would either starve to death or die at the hand of my Blade on their next patrol.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance. “I’m open to suggestions, Lusahn.”
His use of her name startled her. She stepped back, letting her sword fall to her side, and stared at him as if really seeing him for the first time.
“Your name?”
“Cullen. Cullen Finley. It’s nice to see you again, Lusahn.” He held out his hand, wondering if she would respond to the overture.
She stared at his hand as if it were a snake ready to bite her. Finally, she shifted her sword to her left hand and reached out to let her fingers brush his. It was enough to send a flash of heat through to the core of him, and she felt it, too, judging by the way she instantly jerked her hand back.
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