Warrior Rising. Pamela Palmer
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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.
The other Esri who’d been trying to reach Jack was encased in fire. But so, too, was Kade. If anyone whispered the death chant, all those trapped in flame would die instantly.
Kade’s face was a mask of pain even though the fire that encased him was different than the others, sparkling unnaturally. Mystic fire. But like the other, it had him trapped but good.
“The Esri…” Kade groaned. “One of the ones who got away. Was King Rith. I recognized him…too late. He’s going after the stones.”
Hell. But they had a bigger problem at the moment. Keeping Kade alive.
A quick look around told Harrison the only Esri still nearby were those encased in flame. “Tell me what to do, Kade.”
“Don’t sing the death chant.”
Harrison grunted. Who knew Esri had a sense of humor? “I figured as much. Something a little more helpful?”
“The mystic fire will go out on its own in a couple of hours if no one activates it. But any Esri can find me. They can find any of us with death marks. They’ll be hunting us.”
“Then we’ve got to get you out of here.” Harrison started barking out orders to the nearby Sitheen. “Get Myrtle, Larsen and Autumn.” Myrtle was an unnaturally gifted healer and Jack needed her. And both Jack and Kade needed their women right now. “Brad, get the police van over here and six cops. Strong ones.”
They might tie and drag the other Esri into a waiting truck, but Kade was one of their own now.
“How many did we catch?” Jack asked.
“Ten or eleven,” Harrison replied. “But just as many escaped.”
“Hell.”
Larsen and Autumn ran toward them, Aunt Myrtle following at a far slower pace.
Autumn stared in horror at Kade. “You’re going to die.”
“Not if we have anything to say about it,” Harrison said behind her. “We’re going to load him into a closed police van and drive him out of the city until the flame dissipates.”
The redhead’s gaze swung to Harrison. “I’m going with him.”
“We’re both going with him.” If the Esri followed, they’d be in for another fight.
Autumn stepped closer to Kade, her eyes throbbing with misery. “Can I touch you? Will I catch fire?”
Kade’s expression eased. “Mystic fire can’t hurt you. It’s meant only for me.”
“Will my touch hurt you more?”
“Never.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Autumn stepped into those sparkling flames and slid her arms around Kade’s waist, laying her head on his shoulder. Harrison shook his head with disbelief at the absolute trust such a move took. Trust in an Esri.
As the police van drove into the park, Harrison stepped forward and took charge. It took all six cops to lift the flaming seven-foot male, but they got him into the van and laid him on the floor. The cops climbed out and Autumn hopped in. She lay beside her fiancé, her arms slipping around his waist, her head on his shoulder, though he had no freedom of movement to hold her in return.
Harrison watched as she lifted her head and kissed Kade. How could she love one of those creatures? Though, admittedly, Kade was half human and didn’t look Esri at all.
He closed the door on the pair and joined the driver, one of Jack’s friends on the metropolitan police force. As they headed north on Connecticut, he pulled out his cell phone and called Charlie.
“We’re still here, little brother.”
Silence, then a loud exhale of air. “Thank God.”
“Tell me you didn’t acquire a death mark in Esria.”
Charlie was silent for the space of two heartbeats. “Can’t do that.”
Dammit. He told him about Kade, then promised to get to Iceland as soon as he could. “Whatever you do, do not let the princess touch you.”
At every turn, the Esri proved themselves to be more and more dangerous. As if it weren’t bad enough the Sitheen were mortals, with all their human frailties. Now half their team had death marks. All the Esri had to do was touch them and wish them dead and they would be.
Except him.
With a slam of understanding, he realized what had to happen. Someone had to watch and guard Princess Ilaria until the next full moon. Someone without a death mark.
Him.
Ah, hell.
Chapter 3
The sun was low on the horizon on a crystal-clear December day when Harrison and the two Sitheen recruits who’d accompanied him arrived at the hotel in Reykjavik, Iceland. The hotel, like the city, was the definition of old-world Nordic charm.
Harrison had barely lifted his hand to rap on Charlie’s door when the door swung open and his brother met him with a grin. They embraced, slapping one another on the back.
“Ye of little faith,” Charlie chided, pulling away. “You were sure I wouldn’t make it.”
Harrison didn’t deny it. “I’m glad I was wrong, little brother.”
A flash of green across the room caught his eye, drawing his gaze. Harrison froze. On a chair beside the window, her hands tied together in her lap, sat the palest woman he’d ever seen. And, God help him, the most beautiful. Princess Ilaria. Goose bumps lifted on his forearms as the hair rose on the back of his neck. Esri.
“Easy, bro,” Charlie said quietly. “Why don’t you come into the room?”
She looked exactly like the painting. Exactly. Both her skin and hair were pale, pale, pale, but not the ultra toothpaste-white of some of the Esri. Creamy, like new ivory, startling and stunning against the shimmering emerald green of her gown.
Striking.
Her hair fell in soft curls, framing a face that might have been considered delicate on another woman. But he sensed nothing delicate about this one. Her full, sculpted mouth sat firm upon an oval face framed by a strong, finely curved jaw. Her eyes, as brilliantly emerald as her gown, flashed with intelligence and steel, reminding him she was no twentysomething-year-old, no matter what she looked like.
Charlie thrust out his hand to the two Sitheen recruits, who were still standing in the hallway. “Charlie Rand.”
“Brad Parsons,” the kid replied. Not such a kid, really. Not at twenty-five. Kade had found him at Quantico, training to be a U.S. Marine.
Harrison’s gaze dipped, drawn against his will to that shimmering green gown that covered the princess neck to wrists to ankles, yet hugged her form, setting off her full breasts to perfect advantage. A charge of raw attraction bolted through his blood, horrifying him. She was Esri. But God help him, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
“Tom Drummond,” their pilot said behind him as the introductions continued without