by Ashley West
Table of Contents
Free Paranormal Sci Fi Romance
Title Page
Prequel One: Debut
Prequel Two: The Hunt
Chapter One: A Difference in Perspective
Chapter Two: Unannounced
Chapter Three: Sea Legs
Chapter Four: Show Me
Chapter Five: Gifting
Chapter Six: The Overflow
Chapter Seven: A Time to Say Goodbye
Chapter Eight: Noise
Chapter Nine: Round Peg, Square Hole
Chapter Ten: Betrayal and Battle
Epilogue: Home Again, Home Again
One Year Later
Bonus Story
Prequel One: Remnants
Prequel Two: Interrupted
Chapter One: Begin
Chapter Two: Stall
Chapter Three: Engage
Chapter Four: Choose
Chapter Five: Escape
Chapter Six: Decide
Chapter Seven: Plan
Chapter Eight: Freeze
Chapter Nine: Soften
Chapter Ten: Debate
Chapter Eleven: Shatter
Chapter Twelve: Hurt
Chapter Thirteen: Fight
Chapter Fourteen: Begin Again
Rocked: Elemental Warriors Preview
About the Author
Publishers Notes
Table of Contents
Free Paranormal Sci Fi Romance
Title Page
Prequel One: Debut
Prequel Two: The Hunt
Chapter One: A Difference in Perspective
Chapter Two: Unannounced
Chapter Three: Sea Legs
Chapter Four: Show Me
Chapter Five: Gifting
Chapter Six: The Overflow
Chapter Seven: A Time to Say Goodbye
Chapter Eight: Noise
Chapter Nine: Round Peg, Square Hole
Chapter Ten: Betrayal and Battle
Epilogue: Home Again, Home Again
One Year Later
Bonus Story
Prequel One: Remnants
Prequel Two: Interrupted
Chapter One: Begin
Chapter Two: Stall
Chapter Three: Engage
Chapter Four: Choose
Chapter Five: Escape
Chapter Six: Decide
Chapter Seven: Plan
Chapter Eight: Freeze
Chapter Nine: Soften
Chapter Ten: Debate
Chapter Eleven: Shatter
Chapter Twelve: Hurt
Chapter Thirteen: Fight
Chapter Fourteen: Begin Again
Rocked: Elemental Warriors Preview
About the Author
Publishers Notes
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Drenched
Elemental Warriors
Ashley West
Prequel One: Debut
"Oh god. Oh my god, I can't do this. I actually, physically cannot do this."
"You're being dramatic, Alanna."
"I think I'm entitled! Did you see how many people are out there? They're all here to see me, Shannon. They all want to hear me talk about my work and my process and my inspiration, and what am I going to tell them?"
She knew she was being hysterical, but given the sharp, cold panic clawing at her chest, she thought she was entitled to it. Alanna Monroe was in the ladies' room at the Casper City Gallery of Art and Design, bent over one of the sinks, trying hard not to throw up into it.
The truth was that she'd worked very hard to get here, to the CCGAD, not to the point of being sick in the bathroom, and she deserved this moment.
She'd been making sculptures and pottery since she was a teenager, taking classes at the school next door, cutting her neighbors' lawns, walking their dogs, even cleaning their homes in some cases, all in order to make money to be able to afford materials and continued classes so she could pursue her passion.
And now she was twenty-four years old, and it had all led to this. Her first art showing. There would be people out there, milling around and looking at her work. People who had money and time to spend. Maybe they'd like her stuff and want to purchase certain pieces. Maybe they'd want to commission her to make them other things, personal things. Maybe this would be the jumping off point of her career.
Or maybe people would think she was a talentless hack and not want anything more to do with her.
Those outcomes had seemed equally as likely that morning, when she was helping to set up for the show and thinking about what she was going to wear.
Now she was standing in the bathroom (dressed in a very sharp pair of dark grey slacks and lavender blouse that looked great with her skin and showed off just the right amount of cleavage) wondering if this was going to be her first and last showing.
Her best friend Shannon was with her. Shannon was long suffering. It was just her thing. Whenever Alanna worked herself up into a froth, which, admittedly, wasn't that often, Shannon was there for her, but with full exasperation ready to go. Alanna had always thought it was a fair trade, but now it wasn't exactly helping.
"Alanna," Shannon said, turning from inspecting her hair in the mirror. "You're going to be fine. I've heard you talk about your process like a hundred thousand times. It's always inspiring and moving or whatever."
"Or whatever. Thanks, Shan. You always know what to say," Alanna deadpanned, glaring at her.
Shannon just rolled her eyes, as Alanna had known she would. "What do you want me to say? That there's a chance you'll go up there and choke? Yeah, there is one. But there's a much bigger chance that you're going to be amazing and everyone out there will want to talk to you about your work, and you'll get some kind of great deal or a commission or a job offer."
Alanna took a deep breath. One good thing about Shannon's particular brand of getting straight to the point with her words was that she usually came around to some logic that was very helpful. Because she had a point.
"Okay," Alanna said. "Okay. I can do this. I just need a minute to pull myself together. What time is it?"
"Seven-forty."
"Okay. Okay. Ten minutes and then we should head out there. A little mingling before the whole thing starts."
"Aye, aye, Captain," Shannon teased with a salute. She frowned, looking around them. "Where's Alex?"
"I don't know? By the buffet table?"
"No, I mean...why isn't he in here with us?"
"It's the ladies' room, Shannon."
"You know what I mean, Alanna."
She did, she just didn't particularly want to go over it with Shannon. "I don't know where he is."
Just as she said it, there was a knock on the door. Somehow they'd managed to avoid having to share this space with any other ladies who were here, but Alanna knew that had to come to an end eventually.
"Who is it?" Shannon called.
"It's me," came the muffled voice of Alanna's boyfriend, Alex.
"Mystery solved," said Shannon. "Come on in, Alex."
"Uh...I'd rather not."
"What, scared of the ladies' room. You think you're going to lose your manhood or something if you come in here?"
"No," Alex replied, sounding offended even through the door. "I don't care about it being the women's bathroom. But Alanna's in there, isn't she?"
"Yes," Shannon said, clearly confused. "I'm not inviting you i
n here to hang out with me."
Alex snorted. "She won't thank me for being in there with her while she's freaking out or whatever it is she's doing. I'm not supposed to see that."
"You're not supposed to hover," Alanna muttered. Shannon looked up, showing she'd heard it, but she was sure Alex hadn't.
Shannon didn't look like she was any closer to understanding what they were going on about, but time was running out, so Alanna checked her reflection one last time so she could head out and get the evening started.
She looked a bit pale, but she didn't know if that was the bathroom's harsh florescent lighting or the fact that she was nervous and hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. She'd considered trying to tame her mass of riotous curls into some kind of bun or braid or updo, but in the end, she'd decided to leave them be, holding her hair back from her face with a wide headband the same color as her pants.
Her makeup was flattering and understated, and she thought she cleaned up pretty well.
"I'm heading out," she said to Shannon, stepping away from the sink. Her heels tapped on the linoleum floor as she walked towards the door and then pushed it open.
Sure enough, Alex was right outside. He'd dressed up for the event, and he looked nice in his black slacks and blazer. His blond hair was pushed back out of his eyes, and he stood with a sort of effortless grace that had drawn Alanna to him in the first place.
They'd been dating for nearly a year now, and while she was sure neither of them knew where it was going yet, they both seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Most of the time.
"You look great," Alex said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
"Thanks," Alanna replied, her lips curling into a smile for him. "I did my best."
"There's a lot of people out there." He jerked his thumb in the direction of the main gallery. "You ready?"
What a question. The smile quickly turned into a grimace, and she sighed. "As I'll ever be, I guess."
"Come on," Alex said. "You know your stuff is good. This show is long overdue and they're going to love you."
It was ostensibly a pep talk, but it lacked some of the pep, honestly. It mostly just sounded like Alex was tired.
"That's what Shannon said. Sort of."
"And if she said it, then it must be true."
There was a definite twist of bitterness in his tone when he said that, and Alanna frowned. They needed to have a conversation, clearly, but she didn't have time for that now.
Later, she promised herself and smiled tightly at Alex before stepping out. Time to mingle.
Two hours later, Alanna felt like she was flying. All of her pieces had been well received, and everything she'd said had sounded articulate and intelligent. She thought so, anyway. No one had seemed put off or confused, and several of the people there had come up to tell her how they thought she spoke quite eloquently about her work.
It had been a little overwhelming, but overall very productive. Four of the ten pieces she'd had on display had sold and three more people had come up and asked about commissions. Alanna passed out her cards and told them to get in contact with her.
Assuming they did, she was going to be very busy for the next few months. Which was exactly what she wanted. She had a tendency to lose herself in her work when she could, getting caught up in the way the clay felt under her fingers as she worked it on the wheel.
In an interview she'd given for a small arts magazine a couple of years ago, she'd described the process as art moving through her. Looking back, it sounded kind of pretentious, so she'd since amended it to something else, but that was still kind of how she felt. She sat down at her wheel, had an idea, and then let that idea flow through her.
Her mind was often completely blank when she worked, and she found that was when she made her best pieces, when she wasn't thinking about anything. She let her hands do what they wanted, let the art come out of her, and she always seemed to end up with something she could be proud of.
Her dream was to have a home big enough that she could have her own little pottery studio out back or something. A little building built off the house that had room for her wheel and all her supplies, space for drying racks and glazing, and then a kiln for finishing things.
She was a long way away from that dream, considering she currently lived in a one bedroom apartment in the heart of downtown Casper, but it wasn't an unattainable dream, and that was what mattered.
It was on her mind as she made arrangements with the gallery owners to come get her remaining pieces the next day and then looked around for Alex and Shannon.
They were on opposite ends of the room, Shannon talking to some of the people who were still lingering, and Alex brooding with a glass of white wine in his hand.
Alanna let out a breath and went over to him. "Hey. Good wine?"
"You didn't have any?" Alex asked, glancing at her.
"No. Didn't seem like a good idea since I haven't eaten dinner."
"Oh, right. Didn't want to be sloppy for the people with money."
The corner of her mouth kicked up in a smile. "Something like that. Did you have a good time?"
"You sounded great."
"That wasn't my question."
Alex sighed and finished the rest of his wine in two swallows. "What do you want me to say, Alanna? You know mingling with rich people isn't my thing. Art isn't even my thing. Not really. I mean, for you it is, but if this hadn't been about you I wouldn't even be here."
"I know that." And she did. Alex was a sweet man. He was always willing to listen when Alanna needed to talk about her work. He would even initiate conversations about it. But it didn't move him the way it moved her. He was never going to love it the way she did.
When they'd first gotten together, she'd wondered if that meant they were incompatible. At the time, she'd decided that couples didn't have to share all of their interests. It was probably healthy if they had some separation, all things considered.
She was beginning to wonder if that was actually the case, though. Sometimes she just wanted better answers from Alex than 'it looks great' or 'I like the color'. Sometimes she wished she could come home to a partner who actually cared about her passion beyond the fact that it was something she cared about.
But it wasn't really fair to say that when she didn't really care about the things Alex cared about. He was very into sports and documentaries about obscure diseases that no one got anymore. It wasn't something she ever really wanted to sit down and watch with him, and as she drove home that night, she wondered if they were just wasting their time.
Alex had driven separately, but when she pulled into the driveway of her house, Alex pulled in beside her.
He looked great in his fancy clothes, and there was a very large part of Alanna that just wanted to forget about their issues and pull him into the house and into her bed.
The sex was reliable, at the very least. She knew they were going to have a good time if they slept together. But was that just ignoring the larger issue? Were they just using sex to... avoid talking about the things they needed to talk about?
It was entirely possible, and Alanna knew that. But Alex hadn't brought it up either, and maybe that meant the problem was all in her head. Maybe that meant that she was the only one who was overthinking things to this degree. Maybe, as far as Alex was concerned, things were great. Maybe he was happy and content with the way their relationship worked and he didn't want anything else or want her to be any other way.
They both made it inside without speaking, and then as soon as the door closed behind them, Alex had her pressed up against it. He kissed her, full on the mouth, his lips pressing to hers in an intimate caress.
"You were really good tonight," he said in a low voice against her mouth. "I was really proud of you."
Alanna smiled and kissed him again, arms going around his neck. "You think so?"
"Mmhmm. In fact..." Whatever he had been about to say was cut off by him kissing her again, mouths moving together
slowly, sensually, their tongues tangling.
Alex kissed like he meant it, like he wanted her to feel him all the way to her toes, and Alanna had to admit that he did always get the results he wanted on that front. He was a good kisser, and she rose to the unspoken challenge, kissing him back and pressing herself against his body.
"In fact what?" she murmured when they had broken for air a bit later. Alex's mouth was red from the kisses, and his eyes were dark with his desire for her, which was something she never tired of seeing.
"Hm?" he asked, working at his tie to get it off.
Alanna batted his hand away and took over, undoing the tie and slipping it from around his neck to twirl it in her hand. "You said 'in fact' and then you started kissing me again," she said.
"Oh. I don't remember." He looked confused for a moment, rather like an adorable puppy who didn't understand why he suddenly couldn't find his treat. But then he smiled, and it was slow and seductive, and Alanna knew that he'd come up with a better plan than talking.
She was amenable to that. It had been a long day, full of ups and downs and stress and triumph. She was tired, that much couldn't be denied, but she had enough energy for this.
Needless to say, whatever discussion she'd been thinking about having with Alex about their relationship was tabled for the time being.
Prequel Two: The Hunt
The ocean was deep and dark. Fathomless depths that stretched down further than any of them had ever gone before. It was murkier the lower you went, though the twin suns of the Ishali solar system cast dappled light over the water’s surface.
Luther loved the water. He’d been born in the water, and he was fairly sure that when the time came, he was going to die in the water. It wasn’t a morbid thought, not on Lin-Vayel where a large chunk of the people were Liquiandi, those who could shape and move water to their will. The water was a large part of their lives, something they were one with. When a warrior died, they were wrapped in a ceremonial cloth that was studded with shells and pearls and lowered into the water at high tide so they would be washed back to the depths from whence they all came. It was a fate that awaited Luther when he finally fell in battle or died of old age.
