Stolen Warriors
Gypsy Notes Series Book 1
S Dalambakis
Contents
Author Note
Prologue
1. Finley
2. Verkor
3. Finley
4. Finley
5. Finley
6. Finley
7. Finley
8. Obsidian
9. Stolas
10. Obsidian
11. Finley
12. Finley
13. Finley
14. Obsidian
15. Finley
16. Verkor
17. Finley
18. Finley
19. Finley
20. Verkor
21. Stolas
22. Finley
23. Finley
Epilogue
The End
Author Note
Playlist
About the Author
Copyright
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Stolen Warriors Copyright © 2019 S. Dalambakis
Edited by Muddy Waters Editing
Cover Art by Consuelo Parra
Model Faestock.deviantart
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by means existing without written permission from the author, S. Dalambakis.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author's permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are the productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Created with Vellum
Dedication
To my husband, AJ, for constantly encouraging me to follow my dreams, even when they keep changing. I love you.
To my father-in-law, Bill, I’m actually going to let you read this one. I hope you like it.
Author Note
Trigger Warning:
This book touches on dark themes such as depression and suicide. It in no way glorifies those issues. If you or someone you know is suffering from either, please consider getting help.
Substance Abuse and Mental Health Administration (SAMHSA) Helpline: 1-800-662-4357
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255
*Just remember you are loved and wanted. This world is a brighter place with you in it.
Prologue
Finley
In the human realm is the first piece of the puzzle that you seek,
In a house of white, hidden in plain sight.
Adventure and treasure await those brave enough to look,
But be careful, for danger lurks.
For one to succeed, all she would need, is help and love in the form
of her mates, which are three.
Together they will change the realms for all to see.
That stupid ass poem has been running around in my head for weeks since Izadora, or Izzy as I call her, recited it to me. Right now, I could kick her ass. She knows what this could mean for me, for us. This could help so much. Which is why I currently find myself running from the Secret Service. Just a few more feet, and I can disappear into the crowd, well as much as one can with pastel pink hair. A shot rings out. I feel a stinging sensation on my right side, but I don’t have time to stop and check to see how bad it is. Clutching my violin, I push forward.
I pat my chest, checking for the piece of the map that I’d just stolen from the White House. Luckily, it’s still there. As soon as I hit the busy street, I pull my violin up to my shoulder, placing my chin on the rest, and the bow sitting on the strings. I walk as fast as I can, sliding the bow across the strings, the first notes of the song drifting out.
Some people stop and stare, but I push forward a little more, before stopping. I continue to play my song, waiting for the Secret Service to come and get me. I can see when the first wave of the music finally hits them, their momentum wavers. They continue to walk toward me, but in a trance. Perfect. I play the song until the end.
Instead of hearing cheers from the audience, it’s dead silent; everyone is staring at me. I walk closer to the Secret Service agents, looking them dead in the eyes.
“Go back to the President, tell her you lost me in the crowd.”
I turn, hissing as a sharp pain spears through my side. I forgot I’d been hit, but I need to return home before I can worry about this. Each step I take is harder than the last, but I can’t stop. It takes every bit of strength that I have to walk the many streets that lead me back to where I came from.
“Oh, thank the Gods,” I whisper as the gateway, slightly taller than I am, appears before me. It’s a pearlescent shimmer that catches on the light. A sliver against the wooded scenery that surrounds it. Most people believe it’s just a trick of the light. They don’t realize what they are looking at, that slight glimmer, can take them to places they think are only fantasy.
“Magic realm.” My voice is barely above a whisper. As quickly as I enter the earth realm, I leave, going through the gateway that leads me back to the magic realm.
I hobble through the streets, with a violin in one hand, a gunshot wound in my side, all in a ruined bloody dress. I reach into my dress and pull the piece of the treasure map out. This better be worth it.
One piece down, three more to go.
Chapter 1
Finley
A hellhound, a hamrammr, and an unseelie fae walk into a bar. It sounds like the start of a very bad joke, but instead that’s my reality, and about damn time too. I’ve been coming to this hellhole of a bar for weeks, waiting on them to appear. This is the one place that they frequent, or so I was told. But finally, after weeks of coming here, they walk in. I watch them from my corner table, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.
They take up a table in the corner at the opposite end of the bar from where I sit. If they’re anything like me, they do it so they can watch everyone and everything. If someone is going to come after me, it’s going to be a frontal attack, no sneaking up behind me, no surprises. I take this moment to take them in, after hearing so much about them. Well, their reputation, at least. They are ruthless in their pursuits. Feared, among the realms. They’re forceful and always get what they want. But they have something I want, or information on where I can find it.
I watch as a siren walks over and places three drinks on the table. She saunters away with an extra sway to her hips. I snort. Not like she needs to do that, she’s a freaking siren. My attention goes back to the three men I’ve been waiting for.
Stolas, the hellhound shifter, with his hair so black it gives off a blue tint. It’s messy, in that I just rolled out of bed look. He runs his fingers through his hair, sweeping it over the shorter sides. His face is covered in a neat, trimmed beard and I can’t wait to see what his eyes look like up close because from here they almost seem to glow silver. He has on leather pants and a matching leather vest, which showcases his tan well-developed muscles. He’s utter perfection, from the top of his head to the, what I call, shit kicker boots on his feet.
Next to him is Verkor, the unseelie fae. His blonde hair is so light it almost looks white. The hair on the top of his head is long and combed
over, the sides are in a low fade. His face is clean shaven, showing the sharp lines of his jaw. If I had to guess, I would say is eyes are blue, but I can’t be sure from here. I wonder what his wings look like? I assume they’re hidden away since they aren’t sticking out of the black t-shirt that’s stretched across his muscled upper body. My gaze continues to travel down, to his jeans, and… wait, are those cowboy boots? I wonder what they’re made of? I could fetch a good price for them on the market. The rarer the material, the higher the selling price. I’ll have to ask him, but for now I continue my perusal of them.
My eyes land on Obsidian, the hamrammr. You heard me right. Hamrammrs are very rare shifters. They turn into whatever animal they have most recently eaten. Eat a piece of rabbit, turn into a rabbit. Eat a piece of bear, wolf, even demon, you can turn into it after. They also gain strength with each animal it consumes, making them very strong, and very valuable. He could come in handy. I need to convince him to stay by my side. Hell, maybe all of them. I could use powers like theirs.
My eyes travel from the top of his ginger head to the boots on his feet. His hair is a mid-bald fade with a side part. His hair is perfectly gelled and styled. He has a full, thick beard to go with it, and it looks utterly delicious on him. He has on a simple, plain white t-shirt, tautly stretched over his arms and chest. There are chains hanging off the side of his worn blue jeans, almost matching the chains and buckles that adorn his boots. Every inch of exposed skin is covered in tattoos, even his head. What I wouldn’t give to strip him naked just to see each and every one of his tattoos. I want to see how covered he is.
All three of them are muscular, with Obsidian being the biggest and the tallest. The siren brings them another round, lingering around a little longer this time. Her hand trails down Verkor’s arm. The fae follows the motion with his eyes, not stopping her, but not liking it either by the disgusted expression on his face. Can’t say I blame him. Sirens are a piece of work. You never know if what they’re doing is because they genuinely like you or just using their gifts, their allure, to reel you in for the fun of it. They’re very self-centered. I watch as the siren goes to make another pass at Verkor, but this time he grabs her wrist, halting her progress. A little thrill shoots through me. I lean back in my chair to watch the show.
Sure enough, Verkor gives me one. I want to be a fly on the wall just to hear what he’s saying. He shakes his head at her, but she tries to touch him again. He stops her, shoving her hand away from him. I see the scowl on his face, as he tells her, what I assume, is a fuck off. Clearly she’s not getting it, and Verkor finally snaps. Even in this loud bar, I hear him growl, “Go the fuck away”.
I shiver at the sound of his voice. I would love to hear him use that voice as he pounds into me. Man, I really need to get laid. It’s been too damn long. The more I look at them, the more I fantasize about being in the middle of all three of them. They are gorgeous. The things I would let them do to me. I sigh. Unfortunately, this is a business, not a pleasure outing.
The siren walks away in a huff and I smirk. They turn as one, almost like they sense me, and meet my eyes. I smile wide at them, before picking up my shot glass. Saluting them with it, I quickly down it, before slamming the glass down on the table. I pick up my violin, making my way to the center of the bar. I lift the violin, making sure my shoulder is under center, before placing my chin on the chin rest. I place my hand in the starting position on the neck and my bow against the strings. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to calm and relax me. No one pays me any attention, except for Stolas, Verkor, and Obsidian. I can feel the weight of their gaze on me.
Sure enough, when I open my eyes, I see them staring at me with curious expressions on their faces. It’s a shame, what I’m about to do to them. I slide my bow across the strings, the first notes of the melody sing through the air. This is no ordinary violin, and this is no ordinary song. My best friend is a witch and she gifted me this spelled violin. I have found out over time that this song works the best. I believe that is has to do with certain pitches of the notes. When I play my violin, the music makes people compliant to give me what I want. I don’t like to fight if I don’t have to. I mean, I can; I just choose not to. This makes it easier. I spell my target, ask for what I want, or usually what my client wants, and they hand it over. I’m gone before the spell wears off and before they notice something is missing.
This is my favorite part of the job, the violin, the music. I continue to play my song, noticing more people looking at me. Good. I starting dancing as I play. My legs peek out of the strategically placed slits in my skirt. I kick my leg out to the side, toes pointed, and my dress flaring out slightly. I spin, landing on the balls of my feet, before arching and bending backing, quickly righting myself. The tempo of the song starts to increase, and I sway my hips to match. I move between the tables and the patrons, capturing everyone's attention. Consciously, I make sure not to get to close to Stolas, Verkor, and Obsidian’s table. I will, just not quite yet.
I dramatize my walk by stepping on the tip of my toes, but I twist, swinging my hips with the movement, making my way around the bar. This time I do stop near their table. Taking my right foot, I sweep it in a wide arc from left to right, turning my body to the side, popping both knees out in quick succession. Facing them, I smile, as my fingers and bow fly over the strings. Giving them a quick wink before I return to the middle of the bar. In sharp movements, I twist my torso side to side, ending the song.
I quickly glance around the bar and see that the majority of the patrons are under my spell. Some creatures it takes hearing a second song before fully succumbing. I place my violin back into position, starting a new song.
Verkor
The second we enter the bar, I noticed the girl sitting at the corner table. You’d have to be blind not to. Between the dress she’s wearing with the slit that gives a peek of her creamy thigh to the pastel pink on the top of her head, she is unforgettable.
We take up a table on the opposite end of the bar from her. I grab the seat that gives me the most direct view of her. There is something about her, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. A siren walks over the moment we sit with our usual drink order. Normally, we’re left alone but for some damn reason this siren isn’t taking a hint. I have no problem getting my dick wet, but she’s not who I want.
Before we can even finish our first rounds, the siren is bringing out another. The moment she touches my arm, I recoil.
“I have a break coming up, and I know a way we can spend it.” She lifts her hand, moving to touch my arm again, but I grab her wrist, stopping her. Her touch is repulsive.
“I think you need to go and find someone else. I’m not interested.”
“I can make you interested,” she says as she licks her lips. I can feel her trying to use her magic on me, which further angers me.
I scowl, shoving her hand away. “No. You can go now.” When she tries to make another pass at me, I had enough. How many times do I have to tell her no? I stand, getting right in her face. “I said I wasn’t interested, now go the fuck away.” She turns and walks away with a huff. I take my seat. I can feel someone staring at me.
“Does anyone know who that is, the female in the back corner?” Stolas asks.
As one, we turn and face her. She smiles, picks up her glass, and knocks back the shot before grabbing something from the seat next to her. We watch her move to the center of the bar, no one else paying her any attention.
“What the hell is she doing?” Obsidian growls.
The object she grabbed is a violin. “I don’t know, but we’re about to find out.”
As soon as the first notes are played, I feel a difference in the air, a sense of calm washes over me. That’s when I feel the first tingle of magic.
“Does anyone else feel that?” I question.
“Yes.”
“Yeah.”
I wonder why she’s trying to spell everyone. I pull on my own magic and block hers from affecti
ng me.
“Are you guys alright? Is the magic affecting you?”
“I can feel it, but it’s not taking hold,” Stolas states.
“Same for me,” Obsidian agrees.
Interesting.
My eyes go back to the pink haired female. I’m utterly entranced in watching her hips move to the music. The way that she is flitting between the tables and around the room, makes her look like a faerie, a sexy faerie, but a faerie nonetheless. She makes her way over to our table, smiles and does this dance move that gives me peek of her thigh. I would love to put my hands, mouth, and tongue on every inch of that thigh. I feel Stolas and Obsidian tense beside me. She gives us a wink before turning and dancing her way back into the middle of the bar. They never take their eyes off of her.
“Are you two alright?”
“She’s mine,” they say at the same time. Each of them turn and stare the other one down.
“What do you mean that she’s yours?” they say in unison. I hold back a smirk because I figured that out the second they told me her magic wasn’t affecting them.
“Shifters know by smell when a female is their mate,” Stolas states.
“And she is the mate to both of you?” I question.
“It appears so,” Obsidian growls. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he is not happy about having to share.
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