Warrior Rising (Harlequin Nocturne)

by Pamela Palmer

  “You need a disguise. At least a change of clothes.”

  “My gown is made of a material that protects me from the vast changes in temperature of your world. I need it.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. But right now, you’re a beacon. You stand out too much. If I can find you something to cover your gown and hair, will you wear it?”

  Her nose wrinkled and he found himself almost smiling. “It depends.”

  “Let’s give it a try then.” With his head he motioned her to follow him. They crossed the perimeter road to where one of the soldiers stood guard and he told the man what he needed. The soldiers might hate him for consorting with the enemy, but they’d been ordered to give him whatever he wanted and the man radioed in the request without comment. A few minutes later another came running with a drab olive poncho. Perfect.

  Ilaria eyed the waterproof nylon with distaste, but allowed him to slide it over her head. He stepped back and met her put-upon look with a smile.

  “Better,” he said, then closed the distance between them and gathered her thick length of curly hair back from her lovely face, winding the silken softness into an unbound rope, which he pushed down inside the rain gear. The ever-present desire leaped all over again and it was all he could do to not pull her back into his arms for another mind-blowing kiss.

  With a will of iron, he released her hair and lifted the hood to obscure her pale beauty.

  “I can’t see anything but what’s right in front of me,” she complained.

  “True, but if you keep your hood up and your hands tucked inside, no Esri is likely to notice you.”

  She reached up and pushed back the hood. “I don’t like it. Take it off.”

  Loosely grabbing the front of the poncho, he pulled her close until her scent surrounded him and he was staring into her stubborn face. “Right now, if I start pulling clothes off you, I’m not likely to stop.”

  She sucked in a breath, her nostrils flaring as her chest rose. “I want that. I want you.”

  He released the poncho and cupped her jaw, his fingertips warming with the heat of the awareness that sizzled between them. “If I’m taking you back to the streets of D.C., you have to be covered. So it’s your choice. We take a boat and get out of here, or you wear the poncho and we hunt your Esri.”

  In her eyes he watched her stubbornness battle her need to win the bigger war. With a disgruntled twist of her lips, she pulled the hood up over her hair and he knew it was done.

  “Let’s go,” she said briskly and turned toward the gate.

  With a nod, Harrison fell into step beside her. Deliberately hunting for a single Esri when the whole lot might be seeking to destroy them both was the most dangerous thing they could do. But he understood her need to do it.

  He just prayed this wasn’t a decision he lived to regret.

  Chapter 10

  With the royal power of the draggon stone pumping through her veins, Ilaria felt alive as she never had before. Every sense felt keener, sharper—the feel of the chilly air against her face, the piercing sound of distant sirens. And the smell of smoke…that ever-present reminder that fires still smoldered, ready to burst into flame all over again.

  She pressed closer to Harrison, concentrating on the luscious scent of his warm skin as they passed through the gate of Ft. McNair and made their way through the adjoining neighborhood, traveling along residential streets teeming with the confused, the distraught, the injured.

  Her life was out of control. As it had been for a long time. Although she’d come into her queen’s power, she was not the queen and never would be if Rith got his way. To complicate matters more, after all these centuries she’d found the one male destined to be her mate. And he was human.

  She suspected Harrison was beginning to sense the connection between them, too, though he was possibly even less happy about it than she was. If the situation were different—if he were Esri—she’d be thrilled. In so many ways, she saw goodness in him and a rare and wonderful combination of strength and gentleness. The way he’d trusted her when Luciar and Sanderis approached, the way he’d attacked them when they’d moved against her. The way he’d stood at her back as his own people threatened her. Perhaps he hadn’t backed her as much as she’d wanted—he hadn’t demanded they let her keep the draggon stone—but she’d heard the truth in his words, that he’d feared the stone would endanger her. He’d done it to protect her.

  How odd to think that she, the rightful queen of Esria, might need protecting against mere humans. But she had. And she’d known a strange and wonderful certainty that Harrison wouldn’t let anything happen to her. It disturbed her how much pleasure that fact brought her. His putting her safety before his own should make her feel weak, even vulnerable. But it didn’t. She felt…treasured.

  Very disturbing.

  The day was cold and overcast, a chill wind blowing. Her gown kept her warm, but the air bit into her cheeks in a way Esrian air never did. Her hands brushed against the stiff, cool fabric of the poncho as she walked, her fingers curling away from the disagreeable feel. But Harrison had insisted she wear it.

  She glanced at him, at his strong profile, his cheeks lightly pinkened by the cold wind. A mix of warmth and desire moved through her every time she looked at him and she wished things could be different. Their paths could follow one another’s for only a few short days. They would part, then, all too likely as enemies.

  She hated that she had to plot against him, but the humans had made it clear they wouldn’t trust her with the stones. If she tried to thwart them, they’d consider her an enemy. Harrison wouldn’t let them hurt her, she was almost certain, but if any of them knew her true plan—to steal the stones and take them back to Esria—they’d imprison her and try to find another way to seal the gates.

  She didn’t blame them for wanting the gates closed once and for all, but what they wanted was impossible. Trying to close all twelve gates would not just end in her destruction, but very possibly that of both worlds. The only option for any of them was to destroy the stones of Orisis before Rith called their deadly power.

  So she plotted against the humans without any clear plan. She’d hoped that once she earned their trust, they’d freely turn the stones over to her. But she now knew that would never happen.

  Her second option was abhorrent—to enchant an army of humans to move against them as Rith had at Ft. McNair. Sitheen would die. Harrison would be devastated, if he survived.

  Sweet Esria, there had to be another way.

  She was pinning all her hopes on the one man among Rith’s guards she sensed was loyal to her, praying he’d be able to give her another option. Praying he didn’t turn against her as Luciar and Sanderis had.

  If there was a way to beat Rith without the Sitheen being harmed, she couldn’t see it. She kept telling herself it couldn’t matter if one or all of the Sitheen died. That no one person was more important than stopping Rith.

  And while she knew in her mind it was true, her heart no longer agreed. Harrison had become important to her and she bled at the thought of how he would suffer if any of his friends died.

  But worlds would fall if she failed.

  “It’s going to take days to clean up this mess,” Harrison muttered as they made their way through the wreckage. He made a sound deep in his throat. “All this from a single song. Another blackout like the last one, especially during daylight hours, will send this city into a panic from which it might take years to recover. People will be terrified to go near their cars, or any kind of public transportation, terrified to take a bath or shower for fear of drowning, terrified of turning on the stove for fear of setting the house on fire.” He shook his head as if the thought of it was too much to comprehend.

  “What do you think they believe happened?” she asked.

  “Those in charge know the truth. The rest will probably assume a terrorist attack of some kind. Everyone will hope and pray it’s a one-time event. Let’s hope they’re right.”
>
  At the next street, they reached the end of the building and rounded the corner.

  Ilaria froze.

  Fire. Across the street, flames crawled out of the windows of an apartment building. Her mind blanked. Her heart flew up into her throat.

  A firm hand went around her shoulders, ushering her away.

  “Ilaria. Angel.”

  She didn’t know how far they’d walked or how long. When she finally came back to herself, she found her back pressed against cool brick, Harrison’s hand on her cheek, his eyes deep pools of concern. His thumb caressed her cheek and she felt moisture, belatedly realizing that she was crying.

  Her palm flew to her forehead. “I’m all right.” But her voice came out soft and thready. “Just give me a minute.”

  Instead, he pulled her into his arms.

  She stiffened, struggling for control. But his arms around her felt too good, too right, and she gave in to the weakness and buried her face against Harrison’s neck, her arms sliding around his waist. As she clung to him, his hand stroked her hair.

  “Deep breaths, angel.”

  She did as he asked, forcing herself to breathe fully. Little by little, her racing pulse began to settle, her shaking began to ease.

  “That’s it.” His hand stroked her hair over and over, a firm, yet gentle touch that resonated with strength. When was the last time she’d accepted comfort from another? From almost as far back as she could remember, she’d been the one others looked up to. The princess. The strong one. Yet being held by Harrison felt so right. His strength slowly seeped into her. The warmth of each caress eased the chill that dampened her skin.

  “I hate it when this happens,” she said quietly on a deep, shuddering breath. The sound of a scream, followed by the shouted orders of the firefighters punctured the illusion of safety and she knew they hadn’t gone far. “Let’s get away from here.”

  “I agree.” He curled his arm around her shoulders and led her away from the shouting and the thickening smoke. When they’d walked a few blocks, his hand slid off her shoulder to grasp hers. “This fear of yours…” They passed a group of humans standing on the sidewalk in a close huddle as if seeking warmth. And comfort. “How did Rith ever get you into the center of the Forest of Nightmares?” He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to talk about it. But I’d like to understand.”

  His voice was so warm, so gentle. As they left the noise of the fire behind them, she found herself telling him.

  “There were only three Esri in all of Esria capable of traveling the Forest of Nightmares unmolested. They were the ones who’d invaded the Marceil stronghold at its center centuries before, and enslaved the last of the Marceillian priestesses. From those three Esri, Rith knew of the clearing that would allow prisoners to live, trapped. He ordered them to transfer me and a guard of twenty into that place until I could be trusted to support him. At least that’s what he told them. The twenty guards were blindfolded, allowing them to pass with only minimal molestation by the forest. But Rith never intended for me to leave with my mind intact. He’d managed to kill my mother without being implicated. He couldn’t overtly kill me, too. So he devised a plan to destroy me in another way.”

  “Through your fear of fire.”

  “Through my fears, yes. The forest serves up whatever you fear most. I was tied to a tree in the forest and left there, per Rith’s orders. Much, much later I was told how long I was there, but time meant nothing. I was consumed by fire, in everything but fact…for two weeks.”

  As they crossed a street and started down another block, the cold wind whipped at Ilaria’s cheeks, stealing beneath the hood of her poncho to chill her ears.

  “When the two weeks were up, one of the three who could travel the forest took me to the clearing where the others waited. Apparently Rith had ordered the three killed so that none of us could ever escape.”

  “They didn’t kill them, of course,” Harrison murmured. “They were your only way out.”

  “The guards had no choice. All Esri know when another is killed, and at whose hands. Rith had threatened to torture their loved ones if the three did not die.”

  Harrison steered her off the sidewalk, up a small path to an arbor tucked between two brick apartment buildings where the wind was all but blocked. Then once more, he slid his arms around her waist, holding her loosely as she talked. Anchoring her.

  “So they killed them.”

  Ilaria slid her hands along the hard length of his arms, absorbing his warmth and strength. “Yes. The leader of my personal guard, a man intensely loyal to me, sang the death chant.”

  “But you didn’t kill him for it.”

  “Of course not. And neither did the others. Every man there offered to take that death mark to avenge me.”

  “But you couldn’t remove his mark without the draggon stone.”

  She swallowed. “No.” Did he suspect she wouldn’t leave it behind? “I can’t get them out of the forest, even if I had the stone.”

  But she would. Somehow, she’d find a way to free those who’d been forced to sacrifice so much for their loyalty to her. For it was only those most loyal to her that Rith had been so keen to incarcerate.

  Harrison’s hand cupped her head. “How did you recover?”

  She looked up, meeting his gentle gaze. “It wasn’t easy. It took more than two years before I was even minimally back to normal and decades before I stopped having nightmares every time I closed my eyes.” Her expression turned rueful. “I’m still not fully recovered, as you’ve seen. I doubt I ever will be. I used to love the human realm, despite the fire. Now…” She shook her head.

  She wouldn’t be returning anytime soon. Even if she did manage to destroy the stones, she couldn’t come back, at least not to D.C., until the Sitheen here were long gone. They were going to hate her.

  Especially Harrison.

  Moving closer, she wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. The thought of his strength and vibrancy turning to dust twisted painfully inside her as she buried her face against his collarbone, feeling his arms tighten around her. For long moments, they stood there, tight in one another’s arms, before she finally pulled back and looked up at him.

  “I wish…” So many impossible, confusing things.

  Silently, he stroked her cheek. In his eyes, she saw an answering regret, an echoing confusion.

  Then he dipped his head and covered her mouth in a kiss at once tender and needy. His warm lips moved slowly at first, sensuously, then with more insistence as the passion rose, spilling over in a gentle torrent.

  Ilaria kissed him back with equal intensity, drinking in the feel of his lips against hers, starved for the taste of him. His scent wrapped around her, his warmth enveloped her in a living heat. Their tongues tangled, stroking, caressing.

  Slowly, he pulled away, laying a kiss on her cheek, then another on her forehead before finally straightening to look down at her, tenderness in his eyes. “Are you feeling better?”

  She gave him a wry smile. “My heart’s still racing, but it no longer has much to do with the fire.”

  An answering smile lit his face and he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. She’d happily stay like this forever, staring into his eyes. But they had an Esri to find. With regret, Ilaria pulled out of his arms. Hand in hand, they started walking again.

  They’d traveled only a few blocks when she felt it, something tugging at her mind. It didn’t hurt, yet felt intensely odd, as if someone were knitting inside her skull, weaving threads between her and…her people. Literal, physical threads. Amazing. As if she were the center of a great web to which all the threads connected. They were hers. And she theirs.

  As she’d felt them when she came into her power, so she felt them now, more and more clearly. Glowing life forces at the end of each of those threads. A few glowing brightly. Two, brightest of all, as if only a short distance away.

  She blinked as understanding hit her.

  The two Esri were nearby
.

  She could feel them like pinpoints of heat, but their emotions were hidden. Perhaps her ability to sense their loyalty had already dissipated. If only she could tell if either of these was the one she sought.

  Pulling her mind inward, she concentrated on those small flares of heat and realized she could locate them all.

  She glanced at Harrison. This newfound ability to sense the whereabouts of the Esri would be of great use to the Sitheen. If she shared it. And perhaps she should. Whatever she could do to strengthen Harrison’s trust in her would only help her later.

  She hated the subterfuge. If only she could tell him the truth. All of it.

  But that was impossible. So she’d tell him what she could, whatever wouldn’t hurt her own mission.

  He turned to meet her gaze, as if feeling her eyes on him. “What is it?”

  “I feel them. All of them.”

  His gray-green eyes turned as sharp as knifepoints. “The Esri?”

  “Coming into my power has connected me to them. I feel two nearby.”

  His body stiffened. “Where?”

  “I’m not sure. Not…here. But close.”

  “How close?”

  She shook her head, not sure how to explain. “In my mind, I see them like bright stars in your sky. But I’m too new at this to understand distances yet.”

  “What about the others?”

  “There are five more elsewhere in the city. They’ve split up into a total of three groups.”

  He watched her keenly. “How are they moving? As if they’re converging on one location, or wandering aimlessly?”

  “The latter.”

  “As if they’re searching.”

  “Yes.”

  Harrison grunted. “They don’t have a clue where those stones are.” He pulled out his phone. A moment later, the faint sound of Charlie’s voice drifted to her. “Hey.”

  “The princess seems to have acquired some kind of locating ability. She can sense where the Esri are, in a general sort of way.” He explained what she’d told him. And what he thought it meant.