Obsessed

by Cheyenne McCray

  Unholy shrieks filled the air, and the stench of evil and death filled Renn’s senses.

  It was time.

  * * * * *

  Tierra’s temper had still not cooled by the time the women gathered in Liana and Aric’s massive chambers, prepared to flee the castle. The heart-sisters had dressed in their Elvin tunics, breeches, and boots, and Ranelle and Tierra had each fashioned their hair into a single braid to keep it out of their way. Liana’s moonlit tresses were a part of her senses and even a weapon, so she simply allowed them to flow around her.

  Ranelle cocked her head, listening with her keen Nordain hearing. She tensed. “We have little time. The battle has already begun.”

  Tierra clenched her teeth. “Liana. Do you see anything?”

  Closing her eyes, Liana took a deep breath, and Tierra knew the seer was reaching out with her senses. “Zanden waits while his army battles ours…he wishes to slay as many of our peoples as possible before he comes for us…he intends to take no prisoners but the three of us.”

  “Does he know where we are?” Tierra asked.

  A pause and then Liana shook her head, her tresses sliding over her shoulders with the movement. “Not yet.” She opened her eyes and added, “As long as we keep rein on our thoughts then he shall not be able to find us ’til we reach him.”

  “If he does not have the hrichn,” Ranelle said. “It is a metal orb that aids him in his visions and makes his seer’s sight much more powerful.”

  “Now we just need to get out of here without being seen.” Liana tapped one booted foot on the throw rug. “Obviously the men do not realize how powerful we have become.”

  “Arrogant bastards,” Tierra muttered. “We could easily incapacitate our guards, but then that would keep them from being of aid if they were needed to protect the women and children remaining in the castle.”

  Liana nodded. “Even if you put a temporary spellbinding on them, they would follow, again leaving the castle with fewer guards.”

  “The best solution is to steal away somehow,” Ranelle agreed.

  The women quickly formulated a plan and set it into motion. Liana went to the chamber’s large window and used her senses to determine the number of Nordain guards. When they were ready, Ranelle used her enhanced powers to project her own image in the castle gardens, drawing the guards’ attention.

  Tierra quickly fastened three spellbindings to the bedposts and the women eased out the window.

  “It is a very long way down,” Liana muttered as she started down the rope.

  Ranelle’s voice was tight. “Focus on your grip.”

  Tierra let the binding slide through her hands and knees as she let herself down. “Allow yourself to slide—this rope will not burn your hands.”

  Their Elvin tunics shifted into a cold gray color, allowing them to blend with the castle’s stone wall.

  When they finally reached the bottom, Tierra retrieved her spellbindings and they crouched behind a row of bushes for a moment, waiting to make sure all was clear.

  They would have to hurry. They had precious little time, if their plan were to succeed.

  * * * * *

  Swords clashed and cries of war rang across the battlefield.

  Renn’s pulse pounded against his temples. Blood and gore covered his hands, his arms. He roared as he sliced the head from another one of Zanden’s minions.

  Deeper, yet deeper into the fray, he pressed Feymir. One creature after another he dispatched, his rage rising with every being he slayed. Yet there seemed to be no end to the Sorcerer’s army—a horrid mix of human and all other races.

  The stench of blood and death hung heavy upon the air. Around Feymir’s hooves, bodies littered the battlefield…Tanzinites, Dwarves, Nordain, Seraphine and Devline Elves…near immortal in lifespan, but not immune to killing blows.

  With the fury of a thousand men, Renn shoved his sword through the heart of another enemy, and at the same moment slit the throat of the man who attempted to attack him from behind. Renn had trained for battle since he was a fledgling, his keen warrior senses honed to a fine point.

  He never lost.

  He would not lose this battle.

  To his left, Aric bellowed with every enemy he took down with his sword and dagger, the blood-red stone of L’tiercel glittering with every thrust.

  On the far side of Aric, Jalen alternated between using his sword to slay attackers, to the calm efficiency he used with his bow, swiftly downing one enemy after another.

  From overhead came shrieks of Nordain fighters in their raven form as they battled their traitorous brothers and sisters.

  Irani thundered horrid bellows and bore down on fierce winged Tanzinites.

  Renn felt a surge of satisfaction as the pale warriors wielded their scythes with unerring precision.

  Yet, they were not invincible either. Many of their number had already fallen.

  And yet more of Zanden’s troops came. And yet more.

  Through the haze of battle Renn caught glimpses of men and women he counted among his friends and family of the heart, and prayed to the gods for their safety. Prayed to the gods they would defeat this vast evil. Yet as the battle drew on, it seemed his prayers had been ignored.

  Zanden’s minions closed in around him, around Aric, even as they sliced and killed any who came near.

  They had minutes left, perhaps seconds, before they were overwhelmed.

  Tierra! Renn slammed his sword hilt into an onrushing fighter. Tierra. Tierra!

  The name, the thought of her, gave him strength. And yet how could he hold back fifty enemies at once?

  Aric cried out and disappeared from view, yanked from his horse. The valiant steed rose and pawed the enemy, defending his master.

  Renn shouted in horror.

  “Aric!” He yanked Feymir sideways, trying to reach his brother. “Hold. I am coming!”

  Sharp cries rang out in the distance and Renn’s attention turned to the sky for but a moment.

  What appeared to be a white cloud approached them at maddening speed from the northeast.

  Renn’s sharp Nordain eyes recognized hundreds of white ravens.

  Thank the gods, he thought as he charged his steed toward where his brother had fallen.

  The Overseers had come to fight.

  * * * * *

  The heart-sisters sprinted through the forest on foot, heading down the mountainside. The sounds of fighting grew more fierce, and Tierra feared they would be too late. She and her halias were so in tune with one another now that she did not need them to tell her aloud that they feared for their men as much as she feared for her own.

  When three pale figures suddenly blocked the path before them, Tierra gasped and her friends cried out in surprise. They came to an abrupt halt before the men. Tierra instantly raised her hands and flung a spellbinding around the men faster than they could blink.

  Three powerful looking men, outfitted in white with flowing white hair…and who looked much like To’en.

  We have come to carry you into battle, one man spoke in thought. To’en sent us.

  In the next instant the men shifted before their eyes, throwing off Tierra’s spellbindings as if they were a child’s threads. Their faces and bodies elongated and they grew in size…and transformed into white horses.

  The steeds knelt, and Liana said in thought, I sense they speak the truth and mean us well.

  “Obviously.” Tierra drew her magic back into her body, still stunned by their disregard of her bindings. “If they had wanted us dead, we would be bleeding.”

  “Always the cynic.” Ranelle gave her a light punch in the shoulder.

  Tierra rolled her eyes.

  Then, as one, Tierra and her heart-sisters mounted the bare backs of the horses and gripped their fingers tight in the stallions’ manes.

  Liana’s thoughts were quiet, while Ranelle’s surged back and forth like ocean waves. And yet, when Tierra met their eyes, both of them nodded.

 
It was time for her own courage-check.

  But, really, she needed no time.

  On that battlefield somewhere, her man was risking his life for her. And her people—all of Dair—needed her.

  We are ready, Tierra told the Overseer stallions in mind-speak.

  Without hesitation, the stallions tossed their heads and bolted down the mountainside.

  * * * * *

  The flock of white ravens, the Overseers, shifted into winged creatures as large as the hideous irani, and began attacking the enemy from the skies.

  Several swooped toward Aric and Renn, long enough to pluck Aric from danger and place him back on his stallion’s saddle.

  Renn felt some relief.

  Around him, Zanden’s forces fell back a few paces, intimidated by these new enemies.

  The respite, however, was short-lived.

  Renn’s arm ached from repeatedly thrusting his sword, but he scarce attended to it.

  On and on the battle raged, but even with the Overseers’ help, it seemed they would have no lasting relief.

  Along with the men and women fighting beside them, Renn, Jalen, and Aric pressed forward.

  Ceaselessly, tirelessly, endlessly, they battled.

  And then suddenly the three men found themselves in the center of an empty circle—empty save for them.

  Hundreds deep, the Sorcerer’s men and other creatures he had brought to battle surrounded Aric, Jalen and Renn. Their horses pranced beneath them as they arranged themselves so that their backs were to each other, and they were each facing the enemy.

  So many that even three fearsome fighters such as themselves would not likely come out alive.

  Far beyond the evil encircling them, the war raged.

  But Jalen, Renn, and Aric were completely isolated.

  Renn’s gut clenched. He and Aric could easily transform into nordai and escape these bastards. But Jalen—they would never leave him. They would die to protect their brother-at-arms.

  “If you plan to take us,” Renn growled, raising his gore-coated sword high, “come ahead. But I warn you. We will not die easily.”

  * * * * *

  When the three women and their Overseer steeds reached the edge of the forest, and the outskirts of the battle, the horses came to a stop and knelt. Tierra and her halias slid off the horses. Before they could even thank the men, the Overseers shifted into white ravens and took to the sky—straight into the thick of battle.

  “Where are they?” Tierra could not stop the fear from rising in her chest as she searched the battlefield, looking for Renn. “Can you see them?”

  “No,” Liana answered softly. “But I can sense them. They are in dire straits, yet they fear not for themselves…they fear for us.”

  “There.” Ranelle raised her hand and pointed to the distance, and her voice choked with emotion. “They are trapped.”

  “Oh, my gods,” Tierra said. “Quick. What can we do to save them?”

  * * * * *

  The forces pressed in on them and Renn held tight to his bloody sword. He was not through fighting yet.

  From out of nowhere, blue mist suddenly swirled around the men and their horses. Renn heard the roar of the enemy closing in. The mist surrounded them so quickly that everything around them seemed to vanish…and the scent of lilies and roses replaced the stench of blood and death.

  And all went black.

  * * * * *

  Tierra’s heart almost ceased beating when she saw the enemy closing in on Renn, Aric, and Jalen.

  She would never be able to help them in time.

  Blue mist ringed the men, blocking them from view.

  The enemy charged.

  In the next moment there was nothing but a horde of men.

  The mist and Renn, Jalen, and Aric—even the horses—had vanished.

  “The blue mist,” Ranelle said.

  “Anistana,” Tierra whispered.

  “And supposedly you have the greater powers, sister,” a familiar voice mocked.

  The halias whirled as one to see Anistana. The Faerie Queen stood behind them, unabashedly naked. Her gossamer wings rose behind her, glittering in the sunlight. Her red hair shone brilliant, flowing around her bare shoulders and pert breasts, and a familiar wicked glint filled her emerald eyes.

  “What have you done with them?” Tierra demanded.

  Anistana raised one eyebrow. “Is that how you thank me?” She held up one hand, closing it into a fist as though capturing sunlight in her grasp.

  Blue mist filled the clearing and the heart-sisters stepped back. It was so thick, Tierra could see nothing…then the horses appeared…riderless…and asleep?

  And then Renn, Aric, and Jalen appeared, on the ground, flat on their backs.

  Lifeless.

  Ranelle cried out and Liana gasped.

  Tierra whipped out a spellbinding and wrapped it around Anistana in a flash. “What have you done to them?”

  The Faerie Queen gave Tierra a bored look, despite the fact that she was once again trussed in her sister’s spellbinding. “They are asleep. There was no other way for me to remove them from the battle without using my transfer powers. When I move more than one person, or creature at a time, it tends to put them into a rather deep sleep.”

  Renn snored and Anistana laughed, the tinkling sound like wind chimes. “You see? They are alive.”

  Tierra nodded and released the spellbinding around her sister and retrieved the magic back into her body. “Thank you for saving them.”

  “It was the least I could do.” The Faerie Queen shrugged and gave a lazy flap of her wings. “They were all such good fucks.”

  And with that, Anistana vanished.

  “I don’t know whether to love her or hate her,” Ranelle grumbled.

  “A hard choice,” Liana agreed. “But for today, for the life of my Aric, I feel nothing but positive regard for the Queen of Faerie.”

  Tierra rubbed at her starmark and said nothing. Her feelings were a raging mix as she gazed at the place where her sister had stood.

  Was there some redeeming value in the bitch, or had she done this for her own purposes?

  With Anistana, who could tell?

  Child of Fae…her choice means the dawn of a new beginning…or death to us all.

  Could this be the choice Liana foresaw? Surely not.

  Tierra felt an unreasonable jealously at that thought—as if it should be her choice. She was prepared for it to be her choice.

  Enough of this. She shook her head to clear the inner conflict.

  Behind them the battled continued to rage. The sound of cries, swords clashing and men and women dying.

  Tierra went to Renn and felt his neck. His pulse beat sure and strong. She jogged his shoulder to try and wake him, but damned if he was not out cold.

  “Aric is alive as well,” Liana murmured. “Thank the gods.”

  “As is Jalen.” Ranelle drew in a deep breath. “But he, too, is asleep.”

  A deep chuckle sounded through the clearing and Tierra jerked her head up.

  Her skin chilled when her eyes met Zanden’s black orbs.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tierra leapt to her feet, fear and fury searing her veins. Her hands raised, ready to spellbind the Sorcerer.

  Keep a tight rein on your thoughts, Liana reminded her heart-sisters as she slowly stood and faced the Sorcerer. Do not allow him to know how great our powers have become. We must let him think we are weaker than he.

  “I see the Faerie has worked her magic.” Zanden smirked as he strode closer. The slash from Feymir’s hooves was a livid red welt across the Sorcerer’s forehead, and the wrist she had injured upon their last meeting was swollen and purple. “But the Faerie’s intervention will be to no avail,” he continued. “Your men will be long dead before they wake from her charms.”

  The Sorcerer looked so much like Renn that if it were not for his black eyes and the evil that surrounded the bastard, Tierra might have easily been confused
.

  “How simple you have made it for me.” Zanden’s gaze moved from Tierra, to Ranelle, and rested on Liana. “All of you here. Together.”

  He stopped before Liana and smiled as she raised her chin. “I would have made you my wife.” He gestured to the other two. “They would simply have been breeding stock.”

  Zanden raised his injured hand in the air and shoved down.

  Liana cried out. Fury rode Tierra in a hot wave as she felt the Sorcerer’s magical force drive her heart-sister to her knees.

  At the same moment, Liana’s hair whipped around Zanden’s injured wrist and yanked it downward. “Bastard,” she shouted.

  In a blindingly fast movement, the Sorcerer unsheathed his dagger with his free hand. “You will pay for your rebellion.” He swung the blade toward Liana’s living hair.

  “No!” Tierra shot out a spellbinding. It wrapped around the hilt of the dagger. With one jerk she snatched it from him and flung it out of his reach.

  “Bitch.” Zanden held out his hand and sent a blast of power at Tierra.

  The force of his magic knocked her flat on her backside. Her legs were spread wide, bent at the knees, and she was frozen in place—just as in her nightmare. She could not budge. Tierra tried to scream, but could make no sound.

  “Stop!” Ranelle shrieked, using her magical voice to order Zanden to halt.

  The Sorcerer merely smiled and shot a purple glow of power at Ranelle. With a cry of surprise, she dropped onto her hands and knees before him.

  I cannot move, Ranelle told Tierra and Liana in thought.

  I, too, am frozen, Liana said, and Tierra realized that even Liana’s hair was still.

  Tierra gave a frustrated mind scream. I cannot even speak aloud to yell at the bastard.

  Sounds of battle carried on in the distance as Zanden walked before Liana, who remained immobile on her knees.

  He moved to stand before her, his crotch in front of her face. The bulge beneath his black breeches was obvious, and Tierra felt each of her heart-sister’s disgust and loathing straight to her soul.

  “You see the power I wield over you?” Zanden grabbed Liana’s head with his hands and thrust his hips at her face. “You will suck my cock whenever I am in need.”

  Liana’s urge to retch was so great that Tierra felt it and thought she would, too.