The Crystal Warriors Series Bundle

by Maree Anderson

  She sighed and willed herself to sleep.

  ~~~

  Jade awoke with her heart leaping about in her chest and a sense of foreboding that made her shiver and curl up into a ball. Beside her, Malach inhaled a harsh breath that abruptly choked off.

  God. Not again.

  All her instincts shrieked for her to turn on the light but a small, terrified part of her didn’t want to see, wanted to pretend nothing was wrong.

  Her hand shook as she reached for the bedside light, and she heaved a shuddering sigh of relief when its pale glow pushed back the darkness. She could deal with Malach’s nightmares. She’d done it before. She could—would—do it again.

  She turned to him. She expected to see his body tensed and writhing as he fought to break free of his demons. She expected to see his face twisted, eyes wide and sightless, mouth gaping in a silent scream as he was forced to again endure the horror of his crystalline prison.

  She didn’t expect to be confronted by a ghastly tableau that captured the pure desperation of a man who’d suffered so much that he could find no other way to escape his fear and despair. What she saw would forever haunt her.

  “Malach!” She threw herself at him, screaming his name over and over as she grasped his fingers and tried to pry them away from his neck.

  His complexion was mottled. He was doing an excellent job of trying to throttle himself to death. Commonsense, or perhaps something she’d read somewhere or heard on TV, told her he’d pass out before he suffocated, and then his muscles would relax and he’d be able to breathe again. But she couldn’t merely watch and do nothing. She couldn’t!

  “Malach, please!” Doing her best to avoid his flailing legs, she maneuvered herself until she sat astride him and dug her fingernails into his hands, inflicting small sharp pains that she hoped might get through to him and interrupt this nightmarish loop self-destruction he’d been caught in.

  She succeeded in prying one hand from his neck and held tightly to that wrist with both hands while he fought her. He lashed out, catching her a glancing blow to the cheekbone as she struggled to hold his arm still. When she didn’t let go of his wrist, he elbowed her hard in the ribs. She gasped and loosened her hold. And then he picked her up and threw her on the floor.

  “Let me die!” His fevered eyes met hers for a split second and Jade couldn’t find a trace of the man she knew. That man was gone, subdued or perhaps finally overwhelmed by his mind’s insane desire to put an end to the nightmares, put an end to any possibility he would be returned to the crystal for a third time.

  He wrenched his maddened gaze from her face and threw himself back on the mattress. His hands were like creatures possessed as they crept to his neck again. Jade pushed herself up from the floor, cradling her bruised ribs. She watched helplessly as he choked off his breath. His spine bowed, and his heels dug deep depressions into the mattress as his powerful warrior’s body refused to succumb and continued fighting for oxygen.

  She’d failed him. And her heart twisted at what tomorrow might bring when Malach awoke and found himself still alive.

  The door to the bedroom opened and Lìli rushed in.

  “Quickly, Jade! Help me hold him down so I can give him this.”

  Jade had no idea how two featherweight women managed to hold him down so Lìli could pour the sleeping potion down his throat but somehow they managed it. Perhaps deep down inside, Malach truly didn’t want to die and chose to let them help him. Or maybe Lìli’s indomitable will finally overcame him.

  Thankfully, he swallowed the potion and didn’t spit it out. Then they pinned him, Jade lying on his left arm, Lìli on his right, as he howled his anguish to the night. And as the potion took hold and his howls diminished to thready gasps, Lìli nodded to Jade. Cautiously they released his arms.

  Jade sagged with relief when he lay still. She brushed the tears from his face and held him while his eyes drifted closed until finally he slept.

  Malach. Her lover. Her flawed warrior. She’d been a fool to ever believe that she alone would be enough to save him.

  ~~~

  Chapter Thirteen

  The portrait of Malach was almost finished, just a few minor touch-ups and a final protective glaze to administer. Jade wished she could keep it, but didn’t hold out much hope of that coming to pass. Doubtless Pieter would commandeer it for some archaic, magical reason only he knew. After all, he’d paid a small fortune. She wondered whether he’d think it worth the money he’d forked out.

  He’d bloody better. It was the best work she’d ever done.

  Walking into her tiny studio and laying eyes on the painting was like a blow to her gut—in a good way, the kind of way that left her clutching her middle and gasping because she was so damn proud of what she’d accomplished. She’d captured the essence of him, his soul.

  And the man himself had captured her heart.

  She wanted to save him. She wanted to truly love him. But even if that might be possible once the spell was broken, she was doomed…. Because he loved someone else.

  Jade stroked her fingertips lightly down Malach’s thigh, tracing the long, lean muscles. For a few more days he was hers, and she refused to think about what the future might bring. That way lay misery. Instead, she sighed, snuggling into his warm body, breathing in his intoxicating male scent, wishing he’d wake up and make love to her so that afterward, she would drift off into the pure, easy slumber of a well-pleasured woman.

  One more week until the Testing—whatever that entailed.

  Don’t think about it. Don’t think about what Pieter might have in store. Put it firmly from your mind. Concentrate on the positives…

  One more week and then they’d both be free.

  She teetered on the edge of near-sleep.

  One more week—

  Her eyelids flew open and she stiffened as the importance of that date smacked her upside the head. In exactly one week it’d be her birthday. Her twenty-first birthday, to be precise.

  This Testing, with a man’s life at stake—only like, the highest stakes ever—was taking place on her twenty-first birthday? “Shit!”

  “What is wrong, Jade?” Malach’s voice didn’t sound the least bit sleepy. He’d been awake for some time.

  “Nothing.”

  He huffed a breath that was half-laugh, half-exasperation. “You are a terrible liar. Tell me what is worrying you.”

  “How do you know I’m worried about something?”

  “’Tis obvious, Xiao Mao,” he said, calling her by Lìli’s favorite nickname of Little Cat. “You have been twitching and jumping about in the bed like you have an infestation of fleas.”

  “Very good,” she purred, raising her head from its comfortable position on his chest to look him straight in the eye. “Your pronunciation is near-perfect. You’ve obviously got a talent for languages.” Might as well try a diversion. “You’ve been such a good student I believe you deserve a reward.”

  He shifted abruptly, hooking his leg through hers and clasping her tightly to him as he rolled them both over.

  He settled himself between her thighs. Yay. Her diversion tactics seemed to be working.

  “Languages are not all I happen to be very good at.”

  “Oh really? Enlighten me. What else are you very good at?”

  “This.”

  He nibbled her earlobe.

  A delicious shiver tickled down her spine and she pressed closer to him. “Oooh.”

  “And this.” He brushed aside her hair and butterfly-kissed his way down her neck and across her cleavage. He sat up and back on his heels, still straddling her, to cup her breasts and pay homage to them with a heated gaze that had her biting her lips to stifle her pleas. He bent forward, and as his long hair obscured her gaze she felt the warm wetness of his tongue darting across the sensitive skin beneath her breasts.

  Her nipples tingled, puckering, and she squirmed, arching her back and offering them to him.

  “And this.” His tongue sw
irled over her nipple, laved it, then suckled deeply.

  “Ahhh.” She writhed between the tight clamp of his muscular thighs as his clever fingers attended to her neglected breast. “Oh yes. You’re very good, indeed.”

  “Mmm.” The vibration of his lips over her now ultra-sensitive breast caused her to squirm even more. “And you are very tasty, indeed.”

  His fingers continued their skilful manipulations while his lips and tongue traced a trail down her belly to the juncture of her thighs. His hand left her breasts to part her thighs still more and she gasped, tensing, aware of what was to come, wanting it, aching for it. He parted her labia and breathed gently on her clitoris.

  She jerked right off the mattress, the overload of pure sensation blowing her mind and fizzing through her blood, setting all her nerve-endings tingling. He held her down, chuckling smugly as only a male confident of his sexual prowess and effect upon a woman can do.

  Jade came back to earth and found herself supine on the bed. Her clit throbbed as though he’d spent the last hour or so teasing her and bringing her to the brink of orgasm, only to pull back and leave her wanting more.

  She levered herself onto her elbows to stare at him, this man who had so much power over her. How could he do that to her with merely a breath?

  The breath caught in her throat. She knew exactly why. Because he was Malach. Powerful and determined. A risk-taker, a warrior in full control of his body and its strength. Sensitive, generous, vulnerable. A skillful and caring lover. And a patient and gentle caretaker to Mei.

  The numb terror that lurked inside her would never be entirely eased—not until Mei was out of danger, but it eased when she gazed at the man before her. He was magnificent. Especially now, with his thick, hard cock jutting from his heavy scrotum, his chest expanding with each breath and highlighting his tightly packed abs and impressive musculature. And then there was the hungry “I want you, you, and only you” expression darkening his eyes that made her heart thrill and race.

  “Malach.”

  “Jade.” He bent his head again, giving her more of what she craved. And as the night progressed, he gave her another gift that was even more precious than his worshipful fulfillment of her body’s needs: relief from her worries and fears, and the comfort of his arms as he held her until at last she slept.

  ~~~

  In that eerie period before dawn when darkness still lingered, the insistent blaring of the phone sucked Jade from sleep. She full-body shivered, somehow knowing to expect the worst even before Lìli snuck into the room and bent to whisper in her ear. Grace had already rushed Mei straight to Royal Prince Alfred Hospital and left a message that they should meet her there.

  Shocked mute by Lìli’s news, Jade could only nod at her aunt and gesture her from the room. She slipped from the bed and the security of Malach’s arms, bitter and full of shame at the hold he had over her. If not for him she would have been at home with Mei when her sister needed her the most.

  She squinted at Malach’s peaceful face in the gloom, thankful he still slumbered, thankful he wouldn’t look upon her face and see her guilt that she’d allowed him into her heart at her sister’s expense. Because of him, Jade had become a woman so caught up in her own desires, so enamored by a man, she’d ignored her own sister’s illness. She shoved herself into her clothes, her skin icy-cold, her heart numb.

  She stumbled from the bedroom into the almost unbearable brightness of Lìli’s kitchen. “How bad is she?” she asked, her throat so raw and tight the words were a raspy whisper.

  Lìli avoided her gaze under the pretext of brewing a pot of tea. “Her prognosis is not too bad.”

  “Don’t bullshit me.” Jade hissed the words through teeth clenched so tightly her jaw ached. “Grace wouldn’t have taken her to hospital if it wasn’t serious.”

  Lìli’s normally robust complexion was ashen when she raised her gaze, and the anguish in her eyes cut Jade like a blade. “Grace simply thought it best to get her checked by—”

  “I’m not a child, Lìli. You can’t protect me from all the bad stuff anymore. Tell me.”

  Her breath sighed out in a shudder. “Nausea, vomiting, swollen ankles.”

  Jade’s heart thundered in her chest. The symptoms she’d hoped never to hear echoed over and over in her mind. Nausea. Vomiting. Swollen ankles. Taken singularly, not serious symptoms. But together, and when applied to Mei….

  “Nothing else?” She had to ask, despite knowing that Grace would never put Mei at risk. She’d have watched Mei like a hawk, noted each symptom’s appearance and severity, consulted with the specialist by phone, and then gone with her gut instinct—even if that gut instinct resulted in her carting Mei off to hospital and facing off against a doubtful specialist. But no one knew Mei better than Jade. She should have been there.

  “Grace didn’t mention anything else.”

  “Oh.”

  “We’ll know when we get to the hospital and speak to Mei’s specialist.”

  “Right. I’ll go straight away.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Lìli said.

  “Right. Okay.”

  Jade couldn’t get her brain to function properly. She knew it was shock but she couldn’t beat it back. How was she going to get to the hospital? Home. She needed to get home. Grace’s car was at home. But what if Grace hadn’t waited for an ambulance and had taken Mei in her car?

  “When’s the next bus or train, Lìli Yiyi? Where’ve you put the timetables?”

  A corner of her mind heard Lìli exhorting her to be calm, felt her aunt’s hand plucking at her sleeve, smelled the sourness of fear emanating from Lìli’s pores. And her aunt’s fear shredded the last of Jade’s tenuous control.

  “Where’s the fucking timetable?” She yanked open drawer after drawer, rifling through recipes and old letters in her search for a bus or train timetable that might not even exist.

  “Sod it!” She heard her voice rising to a wail. “We’ll fucking well walk or hitch a ride!” In her mind she whirled and rushed headlong from the room. In reality she was rooted to the spot, unable to move, and it was as though her soul had disengaged and continued its mad dash onward, leaving behind a shell that was too afraid to take the next step. Too afraid to take any step at all.

  Strong, capable hands soothed her, gentling her panic into something more manageable. His scent engulfed her and she breathed him in, letting him sweep her away. And by the time she’d beaten back the nightmarish scenarios of her sister dying alone in some hospital bed and could breathe without panting, she was seated in the back of a taxi with Malach holding tight to both of her hands, and Lìli sitting up front with the driver, urging him to hurry.

  The journey to RPA went by in a flash, so quickly Jade could almost imagine some benevolent god taking pity on her and transporting them instantaneously to the hospital car park. And then the reality of where she was, and why, smacked her again and it was all too much to bear.

  She vaguely remembered being ushered from the cab, walking into the hospital and waiting, still clutching Malach’s hand, while Lìli asked a receptionist to locate Mei. She recalled flashes of Grace’s pale, tightly-controlled features as she flew from the lift and rushed toward them. She remembered Grace’s lips moving, the tic in the muscle by her left eye, the stricken expression that she couldn’t hide as she explained everything. And Jade remembered nodding her understanding—not because she understood, but because a part of her sensed a response of some sort was required. Other than that, she couldn’t bring herself to move unless someone coaxed her into motion.

  Her lifeline, the one thing that kept her from shutting down and shutting out the world was the firm pressure of Malach’s hand gripping hers. And she knew with every fiber of her being that if he let her go, some essential part of her would drift away and be lost.

  They were waiting again, this time for the specialist to arrive and explain the situation before they could see Mei. More talking heads. Words spilling from mouths, enter
ing her ears, penetrating her cotton-wooly brain and dispersing without sinking in. It was like living a dream—a nightmare.

  And then Jade saw her sister. She’d last seen Mei only yesterday morning, but it was as though in that short space of time all the life had been drained from her baby sister.

  Only then did the harsh reality of Dr. Rothwell’s words—the ones Jade had been refusing to process—hit her. “Your sister’s CRF, chronic renal failure, has progressed to end-stage kidney failure. Dialysis isn’t sufficient anymore. She needs a kidney transplant immediately. And unless we find a suitable donor in the next day or so, she’ll likely be too weak to survive the operation. She’s been fast-tracked to the top of the transplant list and we’ll do everything we can. I’m very sorry.”

  Jade could no longer deny those words. They stared out at her from Mei’s face. And worse, so much worse, was the acceptance dulling Mei’s eyes.

  ~~~

  All Jade could do was wait, and watch Mei’s body fail her. And wonder how, after years of fighting and living, she could have deteriorated so quickly.

  Pain was Mei’s constant companion, now. Chest pain, stomach pain from the gastrointestinal ulcer no one had suspected she suffered from, even pain in her bones. She bore it all with stoicism and dignity, even amid the humiliation of constant nausea and vomiting.

  Jade had to swallow bile when she asked a nurse why Mei’s skin looked so weird, and was informed the powdery white substance coating her skin was caused by the high concentration of urea crystallizing from her sweat. And those were only the immediately obvious symptoms. Levels of parathyroid hormone, calcitriol, phosphorous, calcium, triglycerides…. Jade’s brain ached from trying to make sense of the medical-speak concerning the endlessly increasing list of hidden nasties.