A Warrior's Desire. Pamela Palmer

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A Warrior's Desire - Pamela  Palmer


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other slave had escaped back into Esria to report to the Esrian king. Soon after, more Esri had come through the gate, and they’d found the seven stones, the seven keys, unlocking all the gates between the worlds.

      The situation had quickly turned dire. And now Charlie Rand was determined to infiltrate Esria to find the one person who might be able to help them. The person who’d sealed the gates the first time.

      Princess Ilaria.

      Harrison silently watched his brother pace, his jaw working, clenching and unclenching. “At least take a guide. Take Tarrys.”

      Tarrys’s pulse leaped with dismay, her fingers closing around her opposite wrist, her nails digging into her own tender flesh.

      Charlie just snorted. “No way.” He glanced at her, shooting her a quick, apologetic smile that nevertheless set hummingbirds to flight in her chest. “Nothing personal, eaglet, but you’re safer here. And I’ll make better time on my own.”

      Tarrys nodded. He didn’t want her to go. She closed her eyes, waiting to savor the relief that should rush in at his words. But the relief wouldn’t come. The truth remained—Esria was a magical and dangerous world and, no matter what he thought, Charlie Rand was ill-prepared to navigate it.

      With help, with her, he might stand a chance.

      Her heart thudded a hard, dull pounding. How could she turn her back on the only people who’d ever shown her kindness? The humans needed her help. They deserved whatever aid she could give them. They had so much to lose if they failed to stop the Esri—their world, their lives.

      In truth, she had nothing to lose. The freedom and happiness she’d found here weren’t real. They weren’t hers. All her life she’d longed for the freedom to make her own decisions, to act as she chose instead of as another demanded. Now she finally had that freedom. The freedom to do what she knew was right.

      How could she live with herself if, instead, she used her precious free will to hide?

      Such a decision would not only be selfish, but foolish. If the humans failed, the Esri would overrun the earth. Everything she’d found here, and everyone she’d come to care about, would be lost. Including her freedom.

       Sweet Esria, can I really do this?

      The fact that it was Charlie going made the decision both easier and infinitely harder. From their first meeting on the battlefield at the Dupont Circle Fountain, she’d had eyes for no one else. He was both strong and beautiful, warrior-hard, yet wonderfully gentle with those who weren’t his enemy. She’d tried to kill him, yet he’d understood she was under Baleris’s control, not her own, and had restrained her without hurting her. And her infatuation had bloomed.

      He featured in all her dreams and was the focus of her desires, though she wished he wasn’t. She resented even such a small loss of the precious control she’d finally claimed.

      Fortunately Charlie didn’t know his effect on her. He barely noticed her at all.

      Her stomach clenched with dread at the thought of what she must do. She slid her hand beneath the soft Redskins sweatshirt and pressed her fist against her warm abdomen, desperate to quiet the turmoil inside her.

      Charlie didn’t want her to come with him. Perhaps she could stay hidden, following him, watching over him, ready to intercede only if he needed her, only if he got into trouble. Until the Esri caught her and enslaved her again.

      Charlie clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s go. I’m sure Tarrys is ready for us to get out of here. And I need some sleep. I’ve got a mission to plan.”

      “This discussion isn’t over,” Harrison growled.

      Charlie’s expression turned to granite as he opened the door and ushered his brother through. “Yes. It is.” The door clicked shut behind them.

      Tarrys collapsed against the counter, her heartbeat fast and uneven, her mind awash in dread as she contemplated a future just like her past.

      But, for now, all that mattered was remaining free long enough to keep Charlie Rand alive.

      Charlie Rand loved a challenge.

      There was nothing he enjoyed more than the rush of adrenaline before a dangerous op. But this particular op—infiltrating the unknown and dangerous world of Esria—unnerved even his steel-coated stomach. As he pushed through the door to the roof of Myrtle and Tarrys’s apartment building that afternoon, Charlie realized that in less than ten hours, he would enter that strange world with no way to escape for a month. The gates between the worlds only opened during the midnight hour of a full moon.

      Lying awake last night, he’d come to the conclusion he needed to polish his archery skills before he went through the gate. Not only were guns useless against the immortal Esri, but the sound was sure to draw unwanted attention. So he’d arranged a lesson from the finest archer he’d ever seen. The little Marceil, Tarrys.

      He shook his head at the irony. Eight years as a navy SEAL, training with the most advanced weapons the world has ever known and what did he need? Bows and arrows.

      Charlie buttoned his canvas jacket against the chill November breeze and headed around the brick structure that housed the stairs, following the sound of arrows zinging through the air. The first time he’d seen Tarrys, she’d been bald as a cue ball, dressed in some god-awful gray sack of a slave gown, and controlled by Baleris as that bastard prepared to herd several dozen young women through the gate. Baleris had ordered both Tarrys and his other slave to shoot the Sitheen, but even controlled, she’d managed to thwart the Esri and help the humans. She’d aimed and timed her arrow so perfectly, she’d knocked the other slave’s arrow out of the air, leaving his intended victim untouched by either. An amazing shot.

      Charlie didn’t expect her to turn him into an Olympic-grade archer in a few hours. He just hoped she could fine-tune his own rudimentary technique and give him some tips on making his own equipment in that foreign world. Then he’d have weeks to practice shooting game so he could feed himself while he was in Esria.

      “Tarrys?” Charlie called out, not wanting to startle her in the midst of firing a deadly weapon.

      “Here.” Her voice was clear and sure, surprising him a little. He’d always thought of her as meek, but maybe that wasn’t fair considering he barely knew her. He’d been away from D.C. far more than he’d been here since Baleris found the gate. Though he tried to be in town for the full moon, other responsibilities demanded his time and attention. After his stint in the navy, he’d joined a civilian agency that did much the same kind of covert ops work without the political red tape. A couple weeks ago, he’d taken a leave of absence, finally devoting himself full-time to the Esri problem. If they didn’t get these gates sealed, the rest of the world’s troubles weren’t going to matter.

      Charlie turned the corner and for a second thought he’d come upon a stranger until he registered the slight stature and supershort hair of the shapely woman pulling arrows out of a target hung from the brick. He pulled up, watching her with interest and no small amount of surprise.

      The snug jeans fit her perfectly, hugging her slender hips and falling just to the tops of her bare feet. Feet sporting pretty pink toenails. His admiring gaze rose to take in the clingy purple turtleneck that clung to a surprisingly ripe pair of breasts.

      An appreciative smile tugged at his mouth. He’d always thought of her as cute in an alien, otherworldly kind of way. Like a buddy’s violin-playing little sister or something. But there was nothing otherworldly about her today. No one would ever guess this woman wasn’t human.

      Until she glanced at him, revealing the most vibrant pair of violet eyes he’d ever seen.

      “You look good, eaglet. I like the clothes.”

      Her gaze returned to the target as she pulled the last of the arrows. “Aunt Myrtle said I needed clothes that fit. I was fine with the others.” Aunt Myrtle, the elderly aunt of one of the Sitheen, was a Sitheen herself and a gifted


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