The Crystal Warriors Series Bundle

by Maree Anderson

  Her wonderful art teacher had done some miraculous fast-talking and convinced Jade’s parents to let her enroll full-time at the Julian Ashton Art School. There, she’d spent a blissful ten months immersed in the wonders of life drawing, life painting and portraiture during the weekdays, and working at Carlo’s café in the weekends to help pay her tuition fees. She’d been far too busy to have “fun”. But hey, at eighteen she had plenty of time. Right?

  Wrong. Around about the time Jade’s family were beginning to suspect Mei’s ongoing health problems might be serious, her parents were killed. Jade had to grow up overnight. She had no time for frivolous pursuits of any kind. Her own hopes and dreams weren’t important anymore. Getting Mei well again was the only thing that mattered. Being there for her sister whenever Mei needed her, and seeing she had the best care Jade could afford, willing her to see out another birthday, became Jade’s all-consuming passion.

  Life was not about having fun. It was deadly serious. And her penance for being the healthy one was to never pick up a paintbrush again. Time enough for that later.

  Whenever Jade was away for more than a couple of hours, she had a caregiver stay with her sister. She rang Mei during her lunch-break to check on her. Mei was her life, her responsibility. But now Mei had Grace to look after her full-time, and Jade didn’t have a day job to keep her occupied. She could do anything she wanted—anything at all. But all she felt like doing was insisting Grace back off and let Jade resume the role of primary caregiver.

  What did girls these days do to have fun? Manicure? Massage? Get her nails done?

  No way could she justify spending actual money on any of that stuff. Sure Pieter had given her twenty-five-grand, but it wasn’t hers yet. She hadn’t truly earned it—wouldn’t until she’d finished Malach’s portrait. She’d only feel justified dipping into that pot to pay urgent bills.

  So as she wandered along the footpath at seven thirty in the morning with the entire day stretching ahead of her, knowing Mei was well looked after, knowing all her money worries were taken care of for a while, Jade didn’t dream about going shopping or catching up with friends for lunch or whatever it was girls her age did.

  She dreamed about the portrait she was going to paint of Malach.

  She didn’t consider it a chore. Malach tantalized her. Glimpses of him swirled through her brain like a reflection playing hide-and-seek amid puddles on a pavement. One moment vibrant and real—touchable—and the next, shimmering, distorting, sliding from her view.

  Her heart beat escalated. Her stride quickened and lengthened, became a half-walk half-trot until finally, she couldn’t hold back any longer. She gave in to the compulsion urging her onward and broke into a run that quickly became a flat-out sprint the rest of the way to Lìli’s house.

  She was red-faced and gasping for breath by the time she reached Lìli’s front door. As she toed off her footwear she opened the door, and beneath the curtain of her tangled sweat- soaked hair she sought him out.

  Malach, drawn by the sound of her unannounced entrance, loomed large and deadly from the shadows, his stance shrieking his intent to protect and defend Lìli from whomever might dare threaten her. Then his fierce expression softened into a smile. He opened his arms.

  It was an invitation it never crossed Jade’s mind to refuse.

  She walked into his embrace, laying her cheek against his chest and sighing as he enfolded her. And in that instant, she knew she was home.

  ~~~

  As Jade sighed and burrowed close to him, Malach felt a flare of warmth that centered in his heart and spread outward until it engulfed him. He held the delicate female in his arms, rubbed gentle circles on her back. She purred like the Little Cat for which her aunt had nick-named her, and for the first time since he’d been catapulted into this world Malach felt no pressure to remain hyper-alert and vigilant.

  He could hear Lìli humming to herself as she dusted the rear rooms of the house. Outside, the warbles of birdlife warred with the drone of vehicles and the occasional chatter of passersby.

  It was a soft, easy world, far removed from the brutal harshness of his desert homeland. And rather than sneer at the weak inhabitants of this world and mock them for their complacency, he’d slipped into the day-to-day routines as easily as a sidewinder slithered over sand. He felt relaxed and content, at peace.

  He knew it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t be this easy for him to shed his past and shrug off the soul-destroying horrors of his imprisonment. Nothing in his life thus far had ever been easy.

  Malach had never known his mother. She had died bearing him, and he had been given into the care of a group of older women who were past childbearing age, and therefore not eligible for the Choosing Block. Many of the group were content with their lot in life, preferring childcare duties to life with a warrior, and the constant drive to earn enough coin from their share of the winning bid after they’d been Chosen to set up their own business or household. But some had been bitter. They had withheld kindness, blaming their small charges for their bodies that made them useless to the men who required children to boost a dying population.

  As a child, Malach had mourned the lack of a mother’s love. As a stripling, he’d been thankful for the lack, for it had made him self-sufficient in the extreme, and aware from an early age that he could rely on no one but himself.

  He’d never had the ambition to be a Lord Keeper. Malach had recognized early on his warrior training that his skill lay in dispensing advice to his superior, and then dispensing that superior’s orders in a way that was palatable to the other men, while still garnering their respect. Many a time a man had bridled at a command, and been on the brink of telling his superior where he could shove his orders, only for Malach to talk him down and smooth the way while still leaving both men with their pride intact.

  Malach had harbored very little respect for the Lord Keeper of his own fief. The man was an arrogant fool whose incompetence had resulted in the injury, and even death, of many a fine warrior beneath his command. Malach had known as soon as he spotted Wulf during a trade negotiation between local fiefs, and witnessed the respect the young man commanded from his peers, that Wulf would make an excellent commander. He had makings of a Lord Keeper without parallel. So Malach had forfeited everything he owned—including his hard-won reputation as the best man to have at one’s back during a skirmish—and with the jeers of an angry mob ringing in his ears, he’d left his fief.

  It’d taken him a month on foot, walking only in the cool of night, sheltering in shallow dugouts during the heat of the day, to reach the outskirts of the Shifting Sands fief. And despite exhaustion and lack of food and water, he’d overpowered the outriders patrolling the perimeter, and fought tooth and nail for the right to be adopted into the Shifting Sands fief. He’d worked his way up through the ranks and proved himself worthy in many a skirmish. He’d waited patiently for the time when Wulf was able to select his own men, and then he had presented himself before Wulf and presented his case.

  He’d been proud of his daring, prouder still to be named tehun-Leader by the new Lord Keeper of the Shifting Sands fief. And for many years he’d believed he was happy strategizing with Wulf, and getting the best out of men such as Wulf’s kinsman, Kyan, who liked to cause trouble by questioning orders. He’d believed himself content with a life that essentially boiled down to fighting and fucking. But only now, with Jade in his arms, did Malach think he finally understood what true happiness was.

  He pressed a kiss to her temple, inhaling the subtle jasmine fragrance of the shampoo she used. His balls tightened and his cock swelled. Lust. Unsurprising. She could incite him with a sway of her hip or a glance from across a room. But there was something else, too. An ache in his chest—a good ache, like that of a well-used muscle after a sparring session. An overwhelming sense of knowing that this young woman in his arms felt right, that she fit him like no other woman had done—not even Francesca.

  Could this be love? Or was it mer
ely gratitude for this respite from the hell Pieter had condemned him to.

  If this was love, could it be real, what he felt? Or was false and untrue, the result of Lìli’s clever love-spell.

  Regardless, he liked the feeling. He liked it very much indeed.

  His arms tightened about Jade, and as she lifted her face to his, her lips slightly parted as though begging for a kiss, he silently thanked Pieter’s goddess for giving him this memory to treasure. Even if the worst came to pass, he would still have this one precious moment

  He kissed her, savoring the honeyed sweetness of her lips, the eager press of her firm young body against his. And when she whispered against his mouth what she wanted him to do to her that night, when her aunt was asleep, Malach shrugged off all thought of the future, all thought of the vow he’d made if passing the Testing seemed hopeless. Right now there was only Jade. Nothing else mattered.

  ~~~

  Chapter Twelve

  Jade pondered how humans managed to adapt to significant turning points and changes in their lives—events and deeds so shocking to their fundamental belief systems, that one would expect them to be quivering, shell-shocked heaps, barely capable of functioning. She contemplated some of those significant recent changes in her own life as she shifted in Malach’s embrace, settling his encircling arms more comfortably beneath her breasts. He stirred and she caught her breath. Please God she hadn’t drawn him from the peace he so desperately needed. And deserved.

  When his breathing steadied, muscle by muscle she allowed herself to relax. And, as if impatient with her controlled efforts, her entire body shuddered and abruptly went limp. If only her mind could give in as easily—quit angsting over everything and just accept what was happening to her. But lately it was becoming increasingly difficult to trust anything she’d done, or even thought.

  How much of it was her, instinctively reacting and for the most part coping with whatever was thrown at her, and how much was due to Pieter’s interference? After all, despite her desperation, seriously contemplating becoming a prostitute had been pretty “out there” given her upbringing, her morals, her values, and her extreme lack of experience. Heck, she could have auctioned off her virginity over the internet and made a mint. But that idea had seemed so tawdry when she’d thought of it that she’d immediately discounted it.

  She’d thought long and hard about her decision to place that ad in the local paper—what it would mean to her personally if anyone responded and she went through with it. She’d considered all the negatives, weighed her options, and still decided it was the right choice. Her choice.

  But perhaps she’d not chosen that path at all. Perhaps it had been Pieter’s choice all along, all part of his grand plan.

  “Boy, you better have some answers to some hard questions when I next lay eyes on you, old man.”

  Malach jerked, and she realized that she’d spoken aloud. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep. Everything’s fine. Sleep now.” She crooned the words in a sing-song voice. When he’d settled, she curled up beside him with her head pillowed on his chest, and closed her eyes. She concentrated on breathing slowly and evenly. Just as she’d hoped, his breathing quickly slowed until it matched hers.

  She listened to the steady, even thump of his heart beneath her cheek. He’d become such a huge part of her life she couldn’t imagine being without him. She’d even moved in with him. Temporarily of course. Just for another week until they’d passed the Testing, and their love-spell was broken, and she helped him contact Francesca, his true love, again. She’d decided she couldn’t hide that she’d located Francesca from him forever. She wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt.

  “Jade?” he murmured, his arms tightening around her.

  “Shhh.” She silently cursed herself for disturbing him.

  He nuzzled her ear and she felt a jolt of pure lust spear through her. He had that effect on her. All the time. Even a careless touch had the power to reduce her to a wanton creature, ready and willing to give him whatever he wanted. It was disturbing and a little scary how much she wanted him. And magical, too.

  Magic. Curses and spells. Warriors from other worlds. All part and parcel of her life now. How quickly she’d accepted the unacceptable.

  Lìli, Grace and Mei had all accepted Malach, too. In fact Lìli hadn’t batted an eyelash the first time Jade stayed the night in Malach’s room, in his bed, with him. It’d been unintentional, of course. Jade had far too much respect for Lìli to deliberately throw her relationship with Malach in her beloved aunt’s face.

  It’d all come to a head when Malach had dragged her off to go sightseeing after a morning of painting. “I want to walk over the bridge,” he’d declared, his eyes glinting with excitement.

  “Some fresh air’d be nice,” she’d agreed, fondly imagining the small bridge spanning the stream in the park not far from her home.

  The view from the Sydney Harbor Bridge had been picturesque, to say the least—not that she’d been in much of a state to appreciate it until she could breathe without seeing spots dancing before her eyes, and stand upright without her thigh muscles shaking. And afterward, when they’d returned to Lìli’s, she’d been so emotionally and physically exhausted she collapsed on the spare bed to recover, leaving Malach to make himself useful by massaging her aching legs and feet. She’d intended to walk home as soon as she could move, but she must have fallen asleep. And Malach had joined her.

  Even in the cool of the night, days after the incident, her cheeks still burned at the recollection of Lìli’s knowing grin as her aunt had awoken them the next morning bearing a substantial breakfast on a tray.

  “Lucky I made enough breakfast for two, heh?” Lìli had chortled. “Malach has a big appetite, Niece. So if you’re hungry, be quick or he’ll eat everything.” She patted Malach on the shoulder, obviously approving of his hearty male appetite. And when she slanted a gaze at Jade, a grin split her face and there was a suspicious gleam in her nut-brown eyes.

  Malach had taken Lìli’s waggling eyebrows in his stride, murmuring that she was a gracious hostess.

  It could have been worse. At least Lìli knew they hadn’t “slept together” slept together because they were both still fully clothed.

  Jade had snuck Malach into her own room at home on a couple of memorable occasions so she could enjoy his attentions without fear of discovery by her aunt. But the knowing looks Grace and Mei exchanged, and their not-so-covert whispers and giggles, were just as embarrassing. Plus the spare bed at Lìli’s was larger and sooo much more comfortable than her own lumpy, poor excuse of a mattress. So after much soul-searching, Jade had asked permission to stay overnight in Malach’s room.

  She’d been granted it—along with the added embarrassment of Lìli’s blessing, which went something along the lines of, “Niece, I give you my permission to have sex in my spare bed. Just try not to make too much noise because I’m an old lady and I need my beauty sleep.”

  Embarrassing, much? But to spare herself further comments from her worldly-wise aunt, Jade had very quickly learned how well pillows muffled moans of pleasure.

  She carefully shifted over to her own side of the bed and stretched out on her back, staring into the inky blackness that shrouded the room. Malach had seamlessly insinuated himself into her life. Even Grace was taken with him, and made no secret that she thought he was hot stuff. She complimented him outrageously one minute, then threatened his balls in wonderfully imaginative and graphic ways if he made Jade miserable the next. In between she teased him unmercifully.

  “Hey, lover-boy, I’ve been meaning to check on a pet theory of mine, and Jade absolutely won’t tell, so I’ll go straight to the source. How big is your willy?”

  “Willy?”

  “Your dick. Or penis, if you prefer. Must be pretty impressive size-wise, huh? I mean, get a load of your hands! And as for your feet—you could paddle across the harbor with those puppies. I’m a nurse, so it’s okay to talk to me about this stuff, by th
e way. I’ve seen plenty of men’s bits before.”

  “Grace. Enlighten me please. What do the my hands and feet have to do with the size of my male parts?”

  “Well, some people reckon you can gauge the size of a man’s dick by how big his nose is, but I reckon that’s a crock. I once dated a guy who had a beak like you wouldn’t believe but boy, was I disappointed when I got his gear off.”

  Malach, once he’d gotten over the shock of the topics Grace was willing to discuss, always gave as good as he got. And boy, warrior-types like Malach sure knew how to make a girl blush. Come to think of it, Jade had never seen Grace blush before—being a nurse, Grace had pretty much seen it all—so it’d been a singular delight to watch the occasional flush spread over her friend’s face and see her struggling to think of a suitable comeback.

  And Mei….

  Jade’s sister adored the man in Jade’s life. He’d slotted right into the role of the big brother she’d always yearned for. In between sittings for his portrait, lessons with Dai-soon, and making Jade bite pillows, Malach regaled Mei with fascinating tales about his world. And when Mei’s energy levels permitted, Malach would browbeat Grace until she gave in and drove them to the park or to visit Carlo at the café.

  In return, Mei had taken it upon herself to teach Malach to read, and Jade had often found them giggling over children’s books such as A Bellbird In A Flame Tree—the Aussie version of The Twelve Days of Christmas—or the wonderful Dr. Seuss classics Mei had so adored when she was a child.

  Each and every significant person in Jade’s life—her sister, her best friend, her aunt, her boss, and even Dai-soon, who’d undertaken to mentor Malach and made it abundantly clear he heartily approved of Jade’s “older man”—had stamped him with their seal of approval. Jade chewed her lip and wondered if Malach understood the true significance of this unequivocal acceptance. He’d have to really screw up big-time for them to change their minds about his suitability as her partner. So how would they react when she pushed him away and handed him to Francesca on a platter?