Warrior Rising. Pamela Palmer
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“Iceland.”
“Iceland. Did you get the princess?”
“Of course. I’ll fill you in when you get here. Fly to Reykjavik and call this number and I’ll tell you where to meet us.”
“What about Tarrys?”
“She’s with me. I could knock your front teeth out for letting her come, but I won’t. I never would have made it without her.”
“I didn’t let her come. She was going with or without my consent. She just wanted to make sure someone knew she wasn’t coming right back.”
“Well, she’s with me permanently now.” A soft note that Harrison didn’t think he’d ever heard before entered his brother’s voice. “She just agreed to be my wife.”
Harrison’s jaw dropped.
“‘Congratulations’ would be the appropriate response,” Charlie drawled after the silence stretched too long.
“Right.” Hell. “It’s nearly midnight and we’ve got the gate circled in fire. Call me back in a couple of hours and I’ll let you know when I’ll be there.” He cleared his throat. “Charlie…Larsen had a vision about the gate tonight. If you don’t hear from me, you’ll have to find your own way back.”
Silence. “You’re doing something different, I hope, to change the outcome?”
“Of course. But we won’t know if it’s enough until it’s over. Glad you’re back, brother.”
“Be careful, Harrison.” Charlie’s triumphant tone had turned worried. He was the only true soldier of the group, and Harrison knew it must be killing him to be too far away to help with this fight. “I’ll wait for your call.”
Harrison hung up the phone.
“Did he get the princess?” Jack called.
“He did.” And he thought he was marrying Tarrys. No way in hell. Tarrys was cute enough, in a little-to-no-hair kind of way. But she wasn’t human. Not to mention the fact that Charlie had never paid her any real attention even though Tarrys had been obviously smitten with him from the start. Just how badly had she enchanted him? And Charlie had damn well better be enchanted, because if he thought he was bringing an immortal into the family…
Dammit. Harrison shoved the phone back in his pocket. All he wanted was his world back to normal. Was that too much to ask? An immortal sister-in-law was not the way to accomplish that.
“Where are they?” Jack asked.
“Iceland. He has Tarrys with him, too.”
“It’s about time something went right.”
“So, what’s the deal with Larsen’s vision?” one of the new recruits called. “I thought the Esri were coming early.”
Harrison stilled, his gaze slamming into Jack’s. “When Larsen said there was no fire…”
“We assumed…” Jack grimaced. “It’s almost midnight.”
Ah, hell.
As if on cue, the fire went out as if it had never been. No, they weren’t coming early, they just had someone who could put out the fire.
“Call Norm,” one of the recruits called.
“Esri!” another yelled.
Chaos erupted as dark forms leaped from the fountain. Harrison’s pulse began to pound as a dozen short archers in gray slaves’ robes began firing arrows in every direction. Marceils. Just as Larsen had foreseen.
“Stay down!” Jack’s voice rang over the park.
Harrison ducked behind the car he was using as a shield. Moments later, the taller Esri began to leap out of the gate dressed in dark hooded cloaks that all but hid their extreme paleness. The Sitheen had hoped the fire would turn the invasion into a standoff. Now it was clear they were in for a full-scale battle.
Gunshots rang through the park as a couple of the humans attempted to take down the Marceils. The immortal slaves wouldn’t stay down, but a gunshot seemed to take minutes for them to heal, rather than seconds, as it did the Esri.
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.
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