Lost Protector (Midworlder Trilogy Book 3)
Page 1
Table of Contents
LOST PROTECTOR
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Table of Contents
LOST PROTECTOR
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
LOST PROTECTOR
Book Three of the Midworlder Trilogy
MAGGIE MUNDY
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
LOST PROTECTOR
Copyright©2017
MAGGIE MUNDY
Cover Design by Fiona Jayde
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Published in the United States of America by
Soul Mate Publishing
P.O. Box 24
Macedon, New York, 14502
ISBN: 978-1-68291-479-3
www.SoulMatePublishing.com
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
For my wonderful writing friends
who make up the Tough Diamonds.
Carla Caurso, Leesa Bow, and Lillianna Rose.
These women inspire me to keep writing.
Acknowledgements
I would like to take this opportunity to thank Soul Mate Publishing for believing in the Midworlder Trilogy. Many years ago I came up with the concept for Nicole and Ridge’s story, Unknown Protector. Now with Soren and Anne’s story in Lost Protector, the trilogy has come to a conclusion.
I acknowledge the support from my fellow Soul Mate authors who share their knowledge and expertise. They are truly a wonderful group that I am proud to be a part of.
Special thanks go to Senior Editor Debby Gilbert, whose patience and understanding during the editing process was outstanding. Thanks for believing in me and my stories.
I would also like to say thank you to Cheryl Yeko and her Art Department for the wonderful covers I have had for all three of my books in this series.
Prologue
Lost Soul
Could he keep anyone safe?
Ridge fisted his hands as he stood on the balcony at his ranch house. He owned the land as far as the eye could see. It didn’t help contain his anger. He had spent hundreds of years keeping humans and Midworlders safe, but in truth he had failed. The open country meant he could see if any Demonic Midworlders were coming and be ready to fight. He went to great efforts to make a safe haven here for his fellow Angelic Midworlders, his wife, Nicole, and child, Ellen. Others were not so safe. His brother, Soren, was out there soemwhere, on his own.
Ridge fidgeted from one foot to the other. He could not stay here any longer. He needed to find Soren and bring him back or die trying. The door opened behind him and Nicole exited with Ellen in her arms. His daughter reached out to be cuddled and he held her. Ellen made the world seem right, but she also altered everything. Two years ago, he changed Nicole to be an Angelic like him and Heath did the same with Evie. Converting humans to Midworlders would upset the balance between good and evil, and the fight would be catastrophic when it came. Nicole touched his arm.
“You need to go, Ridge. Ellen and I will be safe here.”
Ridge hugged his daughter close. He didn’t want to leave them but knew Nicole was right. “Two months ago, I didn’t even know he existed, and I’m still no closer to findin’ Soren. I know a name, that’s all. I let him down.”
“Every Enclave in Australia is on the lookout for him.” Nicole said, as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Go and search every inch of the outback if you have to. Don’t leave him alone. He’d do the same if he knew you existed. It’s taken hundreds of years, but you have a family now, and I want Soren to be a part of it too. Go and bring him back to us.”
Chapter 1
Alien Torture
Soren wanted to die. Only death never came. He held his breath as the pain hit again. Gritting his teeth, he peered up at the person inflicting the torture, if you could call her a person.
He couldn’t tell if Liliath smiled or not as she experimented on him. Soren hated the alien bitch, with her bald head and snakelike eye, even if her body appeared to be similar to a voluptuous human female. He might be an alien too, but at least he looked human.
“I do like our times together, Soren. One day you’ll understand this pain was all worthwhile. It was meant to be.”
Liliath performed the procedure on his excuse for a body with clinical efficiency. He couldn’t even remember anymore, how many times he suffered this assault. As usual, she inserted tubes through his flesh without any local anesthetic. Liliath would make a shit nurse. He hadn’t witnessed a caring side to her personality. Surprise, surprise. No, that wasn’t true. She cared about herself.
The torment she inflected reverberated through his body. Maybe, this time, he would die. He’d heard rumors his death meant planet Earth went to hell. If it were true, then so be it.
He coughed up blood again and considered how much he loathed Liliath. Contemplating her slow and painful death was what got him through these sessions. Liliath kept saying this crap she did would heal the defect in his body. If you called this shit healing, then he dreaded to think what an attack would be like.
Liliath called it modifying. Fucking painful w
ould be more accurate.
What the hell did he know? Everyone back at the Enclave on Earth thought him a freak, and maybe they were right. It seemed the only use he had was sexually servicing his boss, Cameron’s clients, by screwing them senseless. He knew what to do in the sack and it eased his loneliness for a time. Soren still couldn’t work out Cameron’s agenda with Liliath. What did Soren owe the pair of them anyway?
Each time he needed the treatment, Cameron would make them do the trip through the space conduit to Pergor. Soren’s race lived on Homeworld, if he could call them his race. The outpost of Pergor acted like a connection between Homeworld and Earth. He wished the whole place would blow up and take him with it. The room around him blurred in and out of existence as he fought the agony.
“One day you will appreciate what I do for you. So many would envy the gift I offer.” Liliath said the words, but her voice held no emotion.
Would he die if Liliath didn’t do this? In the past, he would have said yes. Now Soren wasn’t so sure anymore. Through the pain, he could hear her spouting on about saving Earth.
“One day Earth will appreciate what I’ve done for them. Finally, I’ll achieve the greatness I was born to have. It will be my planet to rule. Our suffering will soon be over.” Liliath touched his brow with her fingers and he cringed in disgust.
Soren couldn’t see how she was suffering. He would tell the people on Earth to go fuck themselves, if he could get the words out. Humans could find someone else to be their savior.
Before he died, he would let everyone on Earth know Liliath was a demon from hell. Or the hell humans thought existed. Heaven didn’t exist either. At this moment, this sterile, white-walled room on the outpost and the agony were the only existence he knew.
Dying seemed more preferable than being tortured on a regular basis, and who would care when he disappeared, anyway? Some people might be into BDSM and happy to get whipped or beaten, but it wasn’t his thing. He saw all sorts at the Enclave and didn’t judge. Soren fisted his hands as his back bowed off the table when the agony hit again.
What did he owe fucking humans, anyway? Humanity wasn’t storming the walls of the Enclave to save him. To be fair, most humans didn’t know Midworlders existed. Realizing you were surrounded by aliens might freak them out a little bit.
Why did this Liliath care if he lived or died? How could someone as messed up like him change things anyway? The question troubled him. He just didn’t have an answer. If the Demonic Midworlders wanted someone to increase their hold on Earth, they should look elsewhere too. He didn’t give a shit who ruled on Earth, and maybe the Angelic Midworlders were not so bad anyway. It would have been nice to meet one before he died. He wouldn’t say the Angelics were okay around Cameron or any of the other guys in his Enclave, though. It would just lead to another beating.
Soren shuddered and clenched his teeth to hold down the vomit as Liliath’s hands moved up his torso. Some of the Midworlders back on Earth would give anything to have her hands on them. The rumors were the sex could be mind-blowing with the advanced aliens known as Elevated, especially this one. He didn’t care. His advice to anyone who wanted it would be to fornicate with human women or men. Messing with the Elevated would get you killed. Thankfully she had never suggested the two of them have sex.
Liliath placed her hands on his lower abdomen. Other guys might get a hard-on, not him. His limp dick could stay limp and he’d be happy. To anyone watching, Liliath’s hands appeared normal. To Soren, they were red-hot metal pokers scorching his skin.
Soren took a deep breath, forcing the muscles in his neck to fight the pain, and turned his head to the side. At least ten tubes linked the apparatus to his body. The machine hissed as it pushed genetically changed cells into his bloodstream and bone marrow. It might as well have been acid pumping through his veins as his body burned up. The containers were almost empty and the agony for today was nearly over. He would thank a god, but he didn’t believe in any. He didn’t believe in anything except revenge, and the thought of having his hands around Liliath’s neck and squeezing until she turned blue.
Cameron stood by, as usual. His boss from the Enclave showed no emotion either, probably because his heart was a lump of ice. Maybe a fool like Soren could learn something from Cameron. If you don’t feel, you don’t hurt. Soren would kick Cameron’s ass someday for this. Today, he just didn’t have the energy.
Even Soren realized Cameron wasn’t your usual Demonic Midworlder. Then again, was there a usual or normal Midworlder? They were all just aliens in hiding on a planet. The people of Earth didn’t know about them and would probably be better without them.
Soren smirked at his boss through the agony. Maybe fucked-up was normal. Cameron stayed stone-faced. Soren wouldn’t call his boss classically good-looking like the other Demonic Midworlders were. All Cameron’s men and women in the Enclave were scared of their boss, and with good reason. Mad bastard might be a better description. If Cameron let loose his energy from his body, he would have people squirming on the ground. Soren doubted his boss would care if they ever got up again either.
The other Enclave members were the sexiest, most muscular men and nubile women around. It seemed to happen naturally and was not the product of plastic surgery. The visitors who came to the Enclave would pay well to drool over the well-toned bodies and beautiful features.
Cameron had the appearance of a soldier who battled too long and too hard. Cameron worked hard on his body and it showed with bulging muscles that could threaten to rip anyone apart who got in his way. His lined face and graying hair at the temples didn’t fit, though. Midworlders didn’t usually show signs of aging and they healed well. It made Cameron more mysterious and dangerous, and the leader of the Enclave used it to his advantage.
Soren could almost, but not quite, believe this guy suffered as much as he did. Cameron always seemed ready for a fight and he showed no mercy to anyone. His hands always fisted, ready for a punch, highlighting the aggression hiding beneath the surface. Demonics could be a thoughtless bunch when they got annoyed. Cameron took it to a whole new level. His anger became rage when it exploded, and everyone usually ran for cover. Sometimes Cameron would disappear for days on end but would come back calmer. Who the fuck knew what was going on there.
Soren breathed in deeply but could not stop the shakes. Why did he agree to do this shit? He kept telling himself he was a captive by choice. Did he have a choice, though? Who the hell knew, and would they tell him? Cameron kept saying he would die without this hell, like Liliath was doing some sort of alien renal dialysis. Soren didn’t think anyone would be offering him any sort of transplant soon.
Did the people on Homeworld know what Liliath was doing with him? Did they care? If what she was doing was official, then how come he was not in the Crystal chamber with an audience watching on as she saved Earth by experimenting on him? Instead, they were in some dingy room far away from everyone. It made him more suspicious, but what could he do?
Liliath wanted, or maybe needed, him. He might be a fucked-up individual, but he picked up on that. He recognized desperation from the anger in her eyes. If he didn’t know better, he would say she was getting more desperate. These sessions only used to happen once a month, and now it was once a week. He was starting to wonder if it was for his benefit, or hers. Maybe she would die if he didn’t go through this.
Soren didn’t buy into her crap about wanting to help. He just didn’t know what was going on. Every time he thought he was getting close to working this out, the darkness would come and then he would not be able to remember.
He gritted his teeth and stared at Liliath. Human women were more attractive. The guys back at the Enclave talked about Liliath as if she was sex on legs. The male and female Midworlders said she oozed a smell that drove them nuts. Maybe it was an Elevated thing. One thing he knew for sure. Neither Cameron nor he was a
ffected by her. Soren inhaled deeply. Nope, nothing.
The session finished. His body was a fucking mess as usual. Blood oozed from the holes now that the tubes were removed. The body and the punctures would heal once back on Earth. With a grunt, he put all his effort into trying to raise his head up off of the examination table. Nothing happened.
With ease, Cameron picked him up off the table like he weighed nothing and yet Soren was nearly six feet tall and well-built. He laid his head against his boss’s chest, exhausted. Soren never wanted to see Liliath again.
The walk through Pergor to the transport chamber seemed to take forever. Each jolt sending new aches through his body as Cameron held him. Once there, Cameron stood on the raised platform and closed his eyes as he made the connection with the conduit to return them to Earth. Soren made an attempt at a weak smile as the portal with Earth opened up, and he could leave Pergor. He would never come back here, no matter what. He hated being a fucking misfit, a freak who didn’t fit in with humans or Midworlders. He didn’t want to fight the darkness anymore. This time, he would let it take him and die. Damn the lot of them.
The conduit between Pergor and Earth opened up like a tunnel of color. He didn’t feel like appreciating its beauty right now. What was the point of all of this? He knew Midworlders could not die and had powers they were not using to their full capacity. He reckoned both sides, Demonic and Angelic, could blast the shit out of each other if they really wanted to. That was the problem. No one won. Liliath wanted to change the balance of power back on Earth and Soren didn’t like being a pawn in her game.
His head spun. The conduit might be pretty, but it always made him sick as his stomach churned. Cameron would not be happy if he chucked up all over him. Soren didn’t need the extra agro of a messed-up boss.