Terran Realm Vol 1-6

by Dee, Bonnie

  He sat back in the plush leather chair behind the desk and pulled up the resumes for the housekeeper he needed to hire. He’d culled these resumes from about a dozen candidates and now was going over the accompanying material to make his final decision. He hoped he could find someone who was as good a cook as Mrs. Scathan. And someone who was as devoted.

  He opened the accompanying pictures for the top three candidates. One showed a well-endowed female snorting a line of coke. The next showed her kneeling over the body of a dead man in a filthy alley, her hand in his pocket, the other holding a huge roll of cash. Bless modern technology and a paranoid club owner with security cameras at every entrance and exit. And, of course, bless his many partnerships in those businesses that catered to the weakness of humans.

  A possible candidate, but he found that substance addicts tended to have a short shelf life.

  The next file proved more promising. The woman actually was a housekeeper whose penchant for stealing from her employers had also pushed her past the line of petty thievery. There was a video attached to her file. He played it through, pausing it every now and then and fast-forwarding it over the less pertinent moments. There she was, a rather slim figure, entering the bedroom of her employer. She rifled through the necklaces and bracelets in the woman’s jewelry box. The owner obviously believed it well hidden in a secret cache behind the bed’s headboard. The wife entered, catching his candidate red-handed.

  Nolen smiled in anticipation and raised the volume to hear the sound better.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Please, Mrs. Gordon. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist. Your jewelry is so beautiful. Please, don’t tell your husband.”

  Nolen licked his lips as the jewelry’s owner smiled and shook her head. She unbuttoned her blouse and unsnapped her bra, revealing ponderous breasts. She shimmied out of her skirt and pulled off her thong.

  And a huge cock jutted out.

  She moved closer to the bed and the now cowering female still clutching a diamond necklace.

  “There is no Mr. Gordon. Haven’t you wondered why you’ve never seen us together? I won’t report you to the police if you do exactly what I want.”

  Nolen watched as Mr./Mrs. Gordon proceeded to attack his thieving servant and as that servant grabbed a pair of shears and stabbed her in the throat. He watched as the camera changed to the one in the bathroom and then the one is the servant’s room as she frantically tried to hide what had happened and packed up her clothes. He watched as the camera in the garage revealed her driving off in her battered old Honda.

  Poor Mr. Gordon. Even managing Nolen’s Canadian interests in money laundering hadn’t made him safe from his unique little vices. Or Nolen’s snitches within the company. When Gordon didn’t show up for work in the Toronto office, Nolen’s snitch had gone to his home and cleaned up after the housekeeper. He’d taken over for Gordon, sent Nolen the tapes for future use, buried the body deep in the cellar where the torched remnants of the now vacant house would obliterate any signs of a dead body. After all, accidents will happen.

  Nolen had rewarded the man and asked him to keep an eye on the housekeeper’s whereabouts. And now, here she was—candidate number two.

  He sighed. As much as she would be easy to control, he couldn’t trust that her kleptomania could be kept in check. If she should find any of his tools before he had her enthralled…

  He accessed the final video for the woman he had to admit was his favorite choice. She reminded him so much of dear Mrs. Scathan.

  Lorraine Foley was a food critic and a masochist so into pain she made Mrs. Scathan seem like a crybaby. He watched the young woman enter the private club that catered not only to the gustatory tastes of the rich and spoiled, but their sexual tastes, too. For the excellent food reviews they received for the popular restaurant that served as a front, she received carte blanche for her rather exotic needs.

  The video showed a well-hung thug climbing onto her backside and slashing her with a whip while he rammed her with his cock. For each thrust, he cut her with the whip’s hooked ends. He rolled her over and twisted her nipple rings until the woman bit her lip so hard it bled and then shoved his cock in her mouth. He continued to take her until she was barely breathing, but she seemed to enjoy it. At least for a while.

  Then, Nolen watched Ms. Foley grope for a knife that lay on top of a nightstand placed by the bed, and slash her partner’s hands.

  Nolen peered with pleasure at the monitor as the scenario played out, a scenario he had been assured by the club’s owners that Ms. Foley had repeated several times.

  The thug pulled his cock from her mouth and smacked Ms. Foley’s face.

  And then Ms. Foley castrated him, slit his chest from neck to navel and rubbed his blood over her face and arms.

  The body would be disposed of and Ms. Foley would be ready for her next partner.

  Not any more. He’d found his housekeeper. The only blood she’d bathe in would be that of the sacrifices he’d offer to Ba’al.

  Her job application as food critic for a new magazine was bogus. Her position as his new housekeeper was one she’d have for life.

  However long that was.

  He’d found his Mrs. Scathan. And now he could concentrate on more important things.

  Like ruling the world and living forever.

  * * * *

  2nd May—Late afternoon

  “We’ll be landing soon, Brigid.” Gabe leaned toward her as she gazed out the cabin window as they circled Kennedy Airport. He twined his fingers with hers and brought her hand to his mouth. He kissed her knuckles, then swiped his tongue back and forth urging her to open her hand. He placed a kiss in her palm and swirled the tip of his tongue on the sensitive flesh until she was trembling. He nipped her thumb’s fleshy mound and then blew across her damp skin. “I want you,” he whispered. “As soon as we get to the town house, I’m going to carry you up to our bedroom, throw you on the bed and make love to you until you scream.” He placed her hand on his thigh and squeezed. “Good idea?”

  She nodded, still breathless.

  His eyes narrowed. “And only you and I, right?”

  She took a deep breath. “Right.”

  He looked across the cabin at Ethan, who was staring out the window on the other side of the plane. “Good. Right. Ethan? Let’s go over what will happen as soon as we land.”

  Ethan pivoted around his seat. “Go ahead. I wanted to clarify a few points.”

  Gabe nodded. “We get priority through Customs and that shouldn’t take any time.”

  Ethan interrupted him. “What about your weapons?”

  “Taken care of. Morrison’s crew packed them as artifacts headed for his private collection. Apparently, to anyone but a Terran, they look ancient and worn. I checked with the crew and they assured me that our fragile, dusty objects would be safe. Morrison is a collector and his staff is used to transporting odd items for him. Shall I continue?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “The spear and bow and arrows, along with your harp, will be transported to KOTE to be examined.”

  “No. Ceol Mhor remains with me. I’ll bring her to KOTE and demonstrate what she can do, but they won’t shave a chip off her body or remove one string.” He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, daring Gabe to contradict him.

  Gabe took in his demeanor and nodded. “Fine. That really makes more sense.”

  More than fine. They’ll keep him so busy he’ll be out of the picture and away from Brigid.

  “Bridge, do you have any concerns about them checking out your weapon?”

  She shrugged. “I think it’s a waste of time. If they use modern technology, I doubt they’ll find a thing. I’m convinced our weapons acted as they did because of our affinity with them.”

  “I agree, but they want to try some tests anyway. Meanwhile, you’ll work on the diary, translating and decoding it.”

  “And who’ll be looking for Nolen while we’re busy bei
ng lab rats?” Ethan’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “Me. And other members of KOTE trained to do that.”

  “Gabe, remember what I said. I know we’re on a timetable.” Brigid emphasized each word. “Ba’al’s powers are dwindling, but Nolen’s plans are gaining momentum. If he’s successful… Ba’al will be reborn about six months from now. Nolen’s timing must be precise.” Her brow furrowed. “I know I’m missing something.”

  “Dagda’s working on an idea that he says may help. He’s only confided the details to Donovan. He doesn’t want to get any hopes up; he may fail.” Gabe glanced out the window again. “Put your seatbelts on. We’re landing.”

  The clicks of the belts were the only sounds in the cabin. No one spoke.

  This battle was won. Ba’al’s major source of power was destroyed. The fighting was done—for now.

  But the war was far from over.

  The End

  About the Author

  I’m a native New Yorker, born and bred in Brooklyn, married for thirty-odd years (and they have been odd) to my high school sweetheart. Is it any wonder I became a romance novelist? I now live on a mountain top in rural Pennsylvania. Although we haven't been blessed with children, we've had the pitter-patter of little Tibetan Terriers paws throughout our married life. I play guitar and studied voice privately with a coach from Juilliard. I sing everything from folk music to Grand Opera-in ten languages including Gaelic and Hebrew.

  Visit my website at: http://www.jeannebarrack.com

  A Perfect Symmetry

  Jeanne Barrack

  First Published 2009

  ISBN 978-1-59578-530-5

  Blurb

  The battle continues as Brigid, Gabe, and Ethan struggle to discover the secret that will hurl evil back through the gates of hell.

  Terrans and lovers Gabe, Brigid, and Ethan travel to America following the trail of Lord Nolen, a crazed Destroyer. They foiled his plans to open a gate for the demon Ba’al in Ireland, but he escaped. They must now relocate Lord Nolen and destroy his plan for world domination as Ba’al’s emissary.

  Eileen remained in Ireland to locate and recruit Terrans to help in the fight. Machnamh is Dagda’s greatest ally, and one of the pureblood Irish Spirit Keepers known to modern day Irish as the Sidhe. When Mach meets Eileen and Casey, the three must bind themselves together in passion as they meld their powers into the perfect weapon against Lord Nolen. Orphaned Casey, a Protector in the warrior class of Terrans, responds to the call.

  The story so far…

  Brigid and Gabe Kawsantower and Ethan Clark are Terrans, members of a race able to control the elements. Part of the Terran organization, KOTE—Keepers of the Environment—they’ve just won a battle against Lord Nolen, an ancient, evil Terran Destroyer, foiling his plans to open a doorway in Ireland into the domain of the demon, Ba’al.

  But Nolen has escaped to America, his whereabouts and future plans unknown. Hot on his trail, Brigid, Gabe and Ethan must regroup and, with the aid of the recently discovered Irish Terrans back in Ireland, and new allies in America, engage in what hopefully will be the last conflict with Lord Nolen, this time eliminating his evil forever.

  Chapter One

  Manhattan, East 92nd Street

  Brigid keyed in the security code while Gabe unlocked the door and threw it open. She tossed her coat onto a cushioned bench and hurried in to knock on the housekeeper’s apartment door, disappearing inside as soon as it opened.

  Gabe turned to the man hovering behind him. “Don’t wait for a special invitation, Ethan. We won’t see Brigid for at least a half hour, not since she brought back some gifts for Mrs. Doherty and her husband. They’ve been with us since before we were married and Brigid is very close to them.” He sketched a casual gesture, taking in the paneled room. “Welcome.”

  “Didn’t know you were filthy rich, man.” Ethan gazed around the spacious foyer of the five-level brownstone townhouse. The marble floor, polished wood balustrade and high-vaulted ceilings, their ornate details still intact, were just a tad bit overwhelming. He whistled and the echo bounced off the walls. “Bloody impressive.”

  Gabe grinned. “Bloody expensive to keep up. But it’s been in my father’s family since it was built back in 1865. I was born here.” He pointed to the curved wooden stair rail. “I remember sliding down that banister smack onto my ass, cracking my elbow and then getting whacked by my mother because I’d scared her to death when I ran to her crying and she saw my arm.” He sighed. “Then she hugged me, offered me a cookie and tucked me into bed.” He ran his fingers through his hair and shook off the memories. “Come on in. I’ll show you which floor is yours. Anthony will bring in the luggage after he parks the car around in the back. We’re incredibly lucky. We have two spots for parking.”

  Ethan slung his single duffle bag over his shoulder and hoisted up his harp, feeling the vibrations of Ceol Mhor’s strings even through its carrying case. He cradled the small Irish harp in his arms. The duffle bag was light. He’d only a few clothes and his laptop inside. He’d left Ireland in a mad dash with Brigid and Gabe. Clothes had been the last thing on his mind.

  Gabe’s voice echoed from the stairs above. “Well, don’t stand there, boy. You’ll want to wash up before Brigid rejoins us.”

  “Don’t call me boy, you old fart! It’s not my fault you’re older than dirt.” Even as he taunted him, Ethan couldn’t help marveling. It was hard to take in that Gabe was far older than he looked. A hale and hearty eighty-nine-year-old who didn’t look a day over forty-five. A Terran. Just like him.

  It still gave him pause to think that he, Gabe and Brigid were Terrans, a species split off from homo sapiens, with the ability to control the elements and other powers he’d only read about in science fiction. Up until four days ago, he hadn’t even heard of a 3,000 year old bastard named Nimhnach or fought living Stone Men or seen mummies come to life or battled side by side with ancient Milesian warriors or even known how to play the bloody harp or…

  “Would you get the hell up here? Are you standing there with your thumb up your—”

  “I’m coming! Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

  He raced up the stairs, nearly bumping into Gabe, who waited for him on the landing. “I see I’ll have to give you the five-cent tour now. You can get the full treatment tomorrow.”

  Ethan laughed. “You better give me running shoes. This place is huge.”

  Gabe shrugged. “It’s home.” He pointed to his right. “That’s the front of the house and my office. At the other end of the house is the music room where we hold informal parties. It opens up to a balcony that leads down into the garden. Follow me. We’ve more floors to go.”

  Ethan trailed behind as Gabe continued describing the stately home. “Down in the basement we’ve a walk-in refrigerator, additional pantry, laundry and a wine cellar.” He paused at the next landing. “On this floor is the parlor area that flows on the right to the living room and on the left to the dining room and then the kitchen.” His features softened. “Brigid and I were married here in the living room. We had different music and food on all three floors. Brigid took off her shoes so she could run up and down the stairs more easily. God, she looked gorgeous … and so … young.” He took a deep breath and continued to lead Ethan upward. “This is our floor. There’s a master bedroom in the back and a sitting room that we use for a more secure, private study in the house’s front. One more flight and we’re at your level of the house.”

  Gabe stopped at the next landing and led Ethan to the left. “All of the bedrooms face the north away from the street for more privacy. You have a fireplace too. There’s a gym on the other end and a kitchenette with a microwave and fridge.” He grinned. “Let Mrs. Doherty know what your favorite snacks are. If you get a craving for anything, you won’t have to trek all the way down four flights.”

  He opened the bedroom door. “Everything you need to take a shower—towels, soap, shampoo, robe—is in the bathroom.” He opened
the door to a walk-in closet and smiled. “You’ll find something to wear in here. I asked Anthony to bring up some of my clothes for you. Nothing fancy, just some jeans and pullovers. They should fit you since we’re close enough in size. You can always go shopping later this week and buy anything else you’ll need. We’ll see you down stairs in about a half hour or so?” He turned and walked to the bedroom door and stopped. “Oh, by the way, if you need to get in touch with Brigid or me or Mrs. Doherty or her husband, the phone by your bed has separate lines for each of us. If you can’t find something, just buzz. Later.”

  Ethan shook his head, his mouth in a half-smile as the door closed behind the older man. He did a 360 degree turn around the room and spoke aloud reassuring himself that he wasn’t dreaming. “Jesus. It’s like a bloody B and B. I think I’m going to enjoy America a hell of a lot better than the last time I was here at that drab motel.”

  He peered into the bathroom and gawked. The room was bigger than his flat in Dublin. Lord only knew what the master bath must be like. He stripped quickly, found a hamper for his clothes and strode naked into the glass-enclosed shower.

  The scalding hot water poured over him, massaging his still tender shoulder. The only trace of what should have been a near-crippling injury was a small puckered scar front and back on the fleshy part of his underarm.

  He soaped his body, marveling at the changes in his life. Now that he knew he was a Terran, he knew why he always healed so quickly and looked so much younger than his age, and why he’d never found someone with whom he wanted to share his life.

  Until he met Brigid.

  Lovers thousands of years ago when he was Uaithne, the legendary harper of Brigid’s father Dagda. Now he’d found her again, only to lose her once more.

  Of course, there was a way he could be with her, but he didn’t think he could deal with it any time soon. For the moment he could only be glad that his bedroom was above theirs and the floors and walls were too thick to hear them.