Ilaria stared at him, her heavy-lidded expression stunned and confused.

Her mouth was swollen and damp from his kisses, a perfect rosy pink that had his hands curling around her shoulders, his muscles straining against the nearly overwhelming need to pull her back into his arms.

“What are you doing to me?” In his mind, the words sounded accusatory, but to his ears the question only sounded confused. “You’re enchanting me.”

She shook her head. Her lips parting as if in denial. But even as Harrison watched, they closed softly on a smile. A sad smile. “You don’t want to desire me. But you do.”

And she was right. Exactly right. He was a man who valued control above almost anything, yet within moments of meeting her, she’d attacked every ounce of control he possessed, and he’d yet to recover. It was all he could do not to pin her to the wall and take everything she offered.

Which only made him angry. She was the enemy.

Dear Reader,

Finally, I present to you the eagerly awaited conclusion to the Esri series. Although I’ve taken care to make certain you won’t be lost if you start with this book, I hope you’ll eventually read the entire series. The first three books of the series, The Dark Gate, Dark Deceiver, and, most recently, A Warrior’s Desire are available in e-book formats.

The Esri series has always been very near and dear to my heart. Previously, ex-Navy SEAL Charlie discovers a woman of strength, beauty, and passion in the pretty little slave, Tarrys, as they complete a dangerous mission into Esria to rescue the imprisoned Esri princess, Ilaria. Now Charlie’s brother, Harrison, whose hatred for the Esri knows no bounds, has been forced to guard the far-too-alluring Princess Ilaria as they struggle to seal the gates between the worlds once and for all.

I hope you enjoy this world and characters as much as I have.

Best always,

Pamela Palmer

About the Author

PAMELA PALMER is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author. When her initial career goal of captaining starships didn’t pan out, Pamela turned to engineering, satisfying her desire for adventure with books and daydreams until finally succumbing to the need to create worlds of her own. She lives and writes in the suburbs of Washington, DC.

Warrior
Rising

Pamela Palmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Thanks to Laurin Wittig and Anne Shaw Moran, my

critique partners, my buddies, and the sisters of my

heart. I couldn’t do it without you and wouldn’t want

to. Thanks, too, to Ann Leslie Tuttle, Robin Rue,

Kim Castillo, Emily Cotler, Sarah Drasner, and Dana

Hamilton for all your efforts on my behalf. I love

working with you all.

And thanks and love to Keith for accompanying me

on the research trips and for always being there for me.

My hero.

Chapter 1

Midnight was still several hours away, the moon full behind a thick layer of snow clouds. Activity around the Dupont Circle fountain in downtown Washington, D.C., buzzed with a grim, almost desperate determination as more than a dozen metropolitan police, wearing wristbands of holly, cordoned off the traffic circle while a team of D.C. firefighters set up the fire ring that would be lit just before the witching hour.

Harrison Rand strode around the circle, overseeing the activity as the humans busily created a defense against the night’s probable coming invasion. Every month, for an hour at midnight of the full moon, the gates between the human world and Esria opened. For fifteen hundred years, the Esri—the man-sized, malicious creatures at the heart of the legends of fairies and elves—had been locked out of the human world, the gates sealed, but for the one forgotten…a gate that opened, oddly enough, into the heart of Washington, D.C.

Six months ago, an Esri had stumbled upon that forgotten gate by accident, on the scent of one of the seven stones of power, and things had gone downhill fast. Now all twelve gates were open and the Esri’s King Rith was hell-bent on tearing down the walls between the realms and enslaving the entire human race. Apparently, he had the power to do it. Or he would have, if he managed to get his hands on the magically powerful stones that had long ago been left in the human realm, stones that Harrison and his small team had searched for and found, and now guarded with their lives.

Harrison’s sole mission in life had narrowed down to one thing—protecting humanity from the Esri. And the only way any of them could do that was to reseal the gates before King Rith’s minions managed to steal back the stones, giving Rith the power he sought. But sealing those gates was a damn sight easier said than done.

He adjusted the combat vest that he’d donned in case the Esri came through shooting arrows this time. Blasted, uncomfortable thing. The CEO of his own computer software company, his world used to be one of the office, his uniform a pair of khakis and a polo shirt. It was his brother, Charlie, who’d always been the soldier, not him. But thanks to the trace of inhuman blood that apparently ran through their veins—Esri blood from some long-ago immortal ancestor—they were both soldiers now.

Those who couldn’t be enchanted, the humans with that trace of Esri blood—humans the Esri called Sitheen—were the only ones who could fight this war. And the Sitheen numbered only a handful.

As snowflakes began to swirl, his gaze moved to the white marble fountain itself, rising high into the air like a giant chalice. In the summer, water would tumble from that high loft down into the circular base from which the carved pedestal rose.

In the dead of winter, there was no water. If anything moved in that chalice tonight, it would be Esri.

A chill went through him that had only a little to do with the frigid air. He zipped up his parka and listened as Jack and Kade gave last-minute instructions to the five new Sitheen recruits Kade had found at area military installations and police departments.

Jack Hallihan was a D.C. cop, six feet tall, as big or bigger than any of the recruits. Kade, or Kaderil the Dark as he was known in Esria, towered over the lot of them like they were midgets. Seven feet of hard-muscled Esri, the immortal was half-human and didn’t look anything like his pale-skinned, pale-haired, slim-built brethren. Thank God for small favors, Kade was on their side now.

Harrison frowned. He didn’t want to trust the Esri…any Esri. And he definitely didn’t want to like this one. But Kade had offered up his immortal life to protect the humans—in particular, Autumn, the human woman he’d fallen in love with. It was hard to hate a guy like that.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hate the rest of the raping, murderous bastards. And he did. He despised them with a fury he sometimes thought would choke him.

Six months ago, an Esri had touched Harrison’s seven-year-old daughter, Stephie. He’d just placed his white hand on her head, but whatever he’d done to her had made her scream and scream. And when the screaming had finally stopped, her mind had flown to a place no one could reach. She remained in a catatonic state from which doctors and Harrison’s ex-wife feared she might never recover. God alone knew what that monster had done to her. All Harrison knew was that the Esri were powerful, dangerous, magical beings. And he would do everything in his power to stop the bastards. Which meant getting these damned gates sealed again.

For the hundredth time since he’d arrived at Dupont Circle tonight, he pulled out his cell phone, making certain it was still on.

If only Charlie would call. His ex-navy SEAL brother had gone through the gate last month on a Hail-Mary mission to free the captive Esri princess, Ilaria—the one they believed had sealed the gates between the worlds fifteen centuries ago.

To beg her to seal them again.

Dammit, Charlie, call me.

He knew his brother had taken a cell phone. If he came through one of the other gates, he’d call. And considering midnight fell at different times in different places—and they suspected most of the gates opened into northern Europe—that should have happened at least a couple of hours ago.

They thought. They really didn’t know squat about these gates.

Come on, Charlie. Call me, little brother. Tell me you and Tarrys got the princess. Tarrys, a pretty little ex-slave from the Esri world had accompanied him through the gate, intending to keep an eye on him. Tell me you made it out of there alive.

Jack’s wife, Larsen, joined him, her blond hair tucked beneath the hood of her dark green parka. Larsen had been one of the first Sitheen targeted by the Esri, one of the first to understand that the bleached-skinned, murdering rapist she alone saw clearly, wasn’t human.

“Any word?” she asked softly. She was an attractive woman. A lawyer, if they ever got their lives back. Jobs no longer meant much when they faced an evil bent on the destruction of their world.

“No. Nothing.”

Her hand went to his arm as if he might need some strengthening or commiseration at Charlie’s lack of communication, but Harrison was more than used to this. Charlie had always been the more adventurous of the two, even before Dad left on a business trip with his young female assistant and never bothered to come home, propelling Mom into a deep and abiding relationship with the liquor cabinet. Afterward, his brother had turned wild and still seemed to thrive on danger. Harrison had long ago accepted the fact that sooner or later Charlie wouldn’t return from one of his missions.

For the sake of the world, he just hoped this wasn’t the one.

“Charlie warned it might take time to reach the princess,” Larsen said. “If he doesn’t make it out of there this month, he’ll come back next.”

Harrison nodded once. There was nothing to say to that. Charlie would make it or he wouldn’t. Unfortunately, if he didn’t return, they might never know his fate. He could be captured and imprisoned. Or enslaved. He could desperately need their help and they’d never know.

As his stomach threatened to turn into a mass of knots, he took a deep breath and forced the tension out with an exhale. In his mind, he retreated to that dark, colorless room devoid of emotion. Another breath. Calm, controlled.

“If it’s any consolation, I haven’t had any visions.”

He met Larsen’s gaze, understanding her meaning. Many of the Sitheen seemed to have inherited some kind of fairy gift from their Esri ancestors. Larsen foresaw death, the deaths of other Sitheen. No visions meant Charlie was still alive.

Probably.

“That’s something,” Harrison murmured.

Larsen gave him a hopeful little smile and turned away. But she’d gone no more than two steps when she suddenly jerked, as if she’d been struck.

Instinctively, Harrison’s gaze flew to the gate, assuming she’d seen something. But no dark forms leaped from the base of the fountain. Larsen swayed. Understanding hit him like a body slam. She was having a vision. Larsen was watching someone die.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, steadying her. “Jack!”

Jack Hallihan’s dark head snapped up, his body leaping into motion as he ran for his wife. As Jack pulled Larsen into his arms, he looked up, Harrison’s own despair mirrored in his eyes. Together, they waited to find out which of them she was watching die.

Please, God, don’t let it be Charlie. I can’t warn him. I can’t help him change his fate. Larsen finally stirred, turning her head to press one cheek against Jack’s shoulder, revealing a tear-streaked face as pale as any Esri’s.

“What did you see?” Jack asked softly, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

She lifted her hand to cover her mouth, as if struggling for control, and Harrison knew they weren’t going to like the answer. Finally, she pulled out of Jack’s embrace and swiped at the tears. Though visibly shaken, the woman was tough. With a deep, shuddering breath, she met their gazes, one after the other.

“I saw ten or twelve slaves come through the gate first, all shooting arrows. Fifteen or twenty Esri flew through after.” She opened her mouth to continue, then squeezed her eyes closed as more tears ran down her cheeks.

Jack gripped her shoulder, offering her strength as they both waited silently for her to continue. As bad as Harrison knew her vision had been, one thought kept racing through his head. So far, it was about them, not Charlie. And they could change it.

Larsen got control again and continued, her bottom lip unsteady. “Most of us die from arrows through the neck and head.”

“The vests aren’t going to be enough,” Jack murmured.

“No. And those who don’t die from the arrows, will be killed by Esri knives.”

Harrison’s neck felt stiff as he lifted his gaze to Jack’s, seeing in the cop’s eyes the same frustration he was feeling. A month’s worth of extensive planning and it was all going to be for nothing.

With a rough sigh, Harrison shook his head. “We need a plan B, and fast.”

“What about the fire ring?” Jack asked his wife. The firefighters were setting it up, even now. “Does it help at all?”

“I didn’t see any fire.”

Jack frowned, his gaze returning to Harrison’s. “What does that mean?”

“They have to be coming through early.”

Alarm flashed in the cop’s eyes. “I agree. They could be coming through any minute. And we’re going to need additional protection against the arrows.” He kissed his wife on the cheek, already springing into motion. “I can get us some helmets. And we’ll circle vehicles around the park to act as shields.” His voice floated back as he took off toward the police captain.

Harrison squeezed Larsen’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She met his gaze with traumatized eyes. “It never gets any easier.”

Hatred clawed at his insides. “We’re going to stop them, Larsen. I swear it.” His gut clenched. “You didn’t…?” He couldn’t finish.

“I didn’t see Charlie. I think I would have, Harrison. I think I’d know if he’d died. He told you he’d return with a fairy princess on his arm, didn’t he? We have to believe he will. Princess Ilaria is our only hope.”

For the hundredth time, he thought of that painting some nineteenth-century Sitheen had painted of a woman he’d never known, a woman Kade later confirmed was Princess Ilaria. That pale, pale skin and hair. Those bright green eyes. If she weren’t Esri, he might have thought her beautiful.

She was their only hope. An Esri was their only hope, and what did that say about their chances of success?

That they were next to zero, that’s what. His fingers curled into fists inside his pockets.

Even if the Sitheen resistance survived the night’s battle, they were in deep trouble.

He reached once more for his cell phone.

If only Charlie would call.

Princess Ilaria stood in the dark field beneath a sky filled with a million stars, and saw nothing but the fire branded onto the backs of her eyelids and seared into her brain. Memories, just memories, but she shook just the same. The flames circling her, creeping up her gown, crawling over her fingers and hands, burning the flesh from her bones. Not real memories, for the fire had never been real, only visions the Forest of Nightmares had created for her, had brutalized her with. Visions that bombarded her mind, still, although she was finally free of that miserable place.

The icy wind tore at her gown, snowflakes stinging her face and hands even as perspiration rolled between her shoulder blades. With a violent shudder, she fought the clawing memories, pushing them back, trying to grasp the fact that after three hundred years, she was finally free of the prison King Rith had consigned her to. A place she’d feared she’d never leave.

Long, curly hair blew into her face, yet she could do nothing but turn her head to escape the blowing locks. Her shaking hands were still tied firmly behind her back. She willed her heart to cease its terrible pounding. There was no fire here. Not yet, though she knew the human realm to be filled with it. Humans used fire for everything—safety from wild animals, heat to keep warm, a means to cook their food. She’d learned to endure its presence when she’d lived here millennia ago. But that was before the Forest of Nightmares.

Another shudder tore through her. At this moment, there was no fire. Nothing at all but the two people who’d come through the gate from Esria with her. The pair who’d captured her. Freed her. A human male and the female slave he’d nearly traded Ilaria for.

Only minutes ago, the human had carried Ilaria from the clearing in which she’d lived with her guards for three centuries, into that vile forest, then through the newly opened gate to the human realm. A gate she herself had long ago sealed.

If the gate hadn’t been located so close to the prison, she’d never have made it. She was certain her mind would never survive the journey through the nightmares for any length of time again.

It had taken her years to recover the first time.

She glanced at the pair kissing passionately only a few yards away. The slave, a Marceillian priestess, was still dressed in the lavender ceremonial gown that must have once belonged to her ancestors. The Marceils, the slave race of Esria, resembled the humans with their dark hair and tanned skin, though the Marceils were quite a bit shorter. This one had somehow become un-enslaved until one of Ilaria’s guards caught her, shearing her hair from her head and stealing the power she’d raised against them.

The human had surprised them all, refusing to leave the little slave behind.

Interesting, but of little import. Of far more importance was that at last she was free to pursue revenge and retribution against the one who’d imprisoned her, the one who’d ordered her mother’s death then set himself upon the throne in the queen’s place. The vile, dangerous Caller, King Rith—the only man in Esria capable of calling the dark power for which the stones of Orisis had been created, and enslaving not only the human realm, but Esria as well.

Never had she known a more dangerous man. If only her mother had seen the truth behind that smile. If only the queen had heeded Ilaria’s warning. She lifted her chilled face, her gaze turning to the vastness of the human heavens and the million points of light. Fifteen hundred years had passed since she’d lifted her arms to the human sky and called down the magic to seal eleven of the twelve gates between the worlds, leaving behind not only the six evil green stones of Orisis, but also the blue draggon stone, the source of much of the queen’s power and the key that opened all the gates. Unable to seal them all, she’d obscured that final gate, one deep in the Banished Lands, hoping no Esri would ever find it. For fifteen centuries, none had until the Esri, Baleris, found his way through. A few months later, the draggon stone passed through the gate, only for a few minutes, but it was enough. The draggon stone was the key that unlocked all the gates. Now all twelve were open and she had no doubt King Rith had sent men to search for the stones.

Stopping him would be difficult, if not impossible, for she’d left the stones with a human. Now, fifteen centuries later, they could be anywhere in this vast world. She had to get her hands on them before Rith did if she wanted any chance of thwarting him. Which meant she must escape her captors.

Ilaria glanced again at the couple. The kissing had ended, but they remained huddled together, soft words catching on the chill breeze. Words of love and commitment. She ought to be surprised, perhaps, that a human would fall so completely for a Marceil. Humans tended to fear anything or anyone different than themselves.

Then again, she’d taken the measure of this particular slave and found her to be a woman of uncommon courage. The man clearly recognized that. Perhaps he was without the fears and prejudices of so many of his race. Perhaps, in fifteen centuries, the humans had changed.

Regardless, the pair were wasting time.

“Why did you capture me?” Ilaria asked loudly.

The male looked up, tucking the Marceil against his side. “We rescued you, Princess.” With a soft oath, he reached beneath his tunic and withdrew a…She didn’t have a word for it. Though language came to her automatically, she needed to touch a human, a non-Sitheen, to learn all the things humans knew.

Her captor touched the small gray rectangle repeatedly with his thumb, then scowled. “Phone’s dead,” he muttered. “The battery was designed to last, which means the magic probably fried it.”

He took the Marceil by the hand as he met Ilaria’s gaze. “Let’s get moving and I’ll explain as we walk. If we don’t find shelter soon, we’re going to freeze to death.” He grunted. “I’m going to freeze to death.” He was the only one of the three who wasn’t, from a human standpoint, immortal.

Without a second glance, the pair started off, leaving Ilaria standing in the snow. Rescued, he’d said. She hurried to catch up. “Why did you rescue me?” she demanded.

The man glanced back at her. “Were you the one who sealed the gates?”

She could deny it, but the very fact that he’d gone to such lengths to free her made it clear he already knew the answer.

“You wish me to seal them again?”

He nodded. “We have the seven stones.”

She nearly stumbled with surprise. They had them all, the six stones of Orisis and her own draggon stone. Astonishing, considering the number of human lifetimes that had passed. Hope bloomed within her. Stopping Rith might not be so difficult after all.

“You’ll return the stones to me, of course.”

He met her gaze, something hard entering his eyes. “We need your help, Princess, but you’ll forgive us if we have a hard time trusting the Esri. Any Esri. When we’re certain you mean to seal the gates, we’ll let you have the stones to do it. Until then, they’ll remain hidden.”

Her jaw compressed, anger sparking inside her. The only reason the humans had the stones was because she’d given them to them. They were hers, not theirs.

But the gleam of steel she glimpsed in the man’s eyes told her that no show of temper was likely to get her what she wanted.

Trust. She was going to have to win his trust. Which would take time she might not have.

With effort, she quieted her angry tongue. “Where are we?”

“I wish I knew. If I had to guess, I’d say northern Europe. Maybe Canada. It’s damn cold, wherever it is.”

“If you don’t know where we are, I assume that means the stones are a distance away?”

“They’re with my friends back in D.C. And the one thing I’m sure of is we’re not anywhere near D.C.”

“What is Dee Cee?”

“Washington, D.C. In the U.S.” He glanced at her and grimaced. “Hell, you don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“I do not.”

“It doesn’t matter. That’s where we’re going.”

She could ask for nothing more. “If I’m not your prisoner, then untie me, human. Walking with my hands behind my back is tedious.”

“It’s Charlie, not human, and this is Tarrys.” His voice softened, filling with a soft wonder as he glanced at the Marceil. “My soon-to-be wife.” He turned back to Ilaria, his expression hardening again. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I have a death mark or two.”

“You fear I’ll take your life.” Esri, linked as they were, knew at once when one of their own had been killed, and by whose hand. Through the magic of their world, the killer acquired a death mark that all Esri could sense and follow. And upon which every Esri had long ago been ordered to act.

No mere human would acquire such a mark. Only a Sitheen.

“It crossed my mind,” Charlie said. “It’s a compulsion, isn’t it? To kill those with a death mark?”

“A compulsion? No. It was a law enacted eons ago. A law I’ve broken more than once and have no qualms about breaking again. I don’t take life unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Admirable.” But the way he said the word told her he doubted her sincerity.

“Is Dee Cee where the unsealed gate came through?”

“Yes.”

“How many full moons will it take us to reach it?”

A hint of amusement crinkled the corners of the human’s—Charlie’s—eyes. “Once I get a hold of my brother, we should be back there in a day. Two at the most.”

Ilaria frowned. “How can you know that if you don’t know where we are? I’ve been in the human realm, Charlie. I have some sense of its vastness.”

“Things have changed since you were here last, Princess. With a little cash, we can get anywhere in the world in a couple of days now.”

She stared at him, startled. “Humans have acquired magic.”

Charlie’s smile flashed white in the moonlight. “Not magic. Technology, though it may seem the same to you.”

She pondered that, finding the thought exhilarating. For too long she’d been trapped in a forest glade devoid of newness, devoid of stimulation of any kind but for the conversation of the men who’d been imprisoned with her. A new and exciting human world was exactly what her mind craved.

The snow grew thicker, the walking more difficult. In the distance, the glow of light told her they’d stumbled upon other humans. And she was still tied. Her excitement turned back to annoyance. “If you want my help, human, and I believe you do or you’d not have risked the Forest of Nightmares to free me, then you must trust me. Release me from these bonds.”

Charlie’s gaze cut to her. “Will you help us? Will you seal all of the gates this time and leave the stones with us as you did before?”

The keen intelligence in his eyes warned her that he’d hear the lie in her words if she wasn’t careful. So she answered with the truth.

“If what you say is true, I will help you.” And she would, though not in the way he meant. Not in the way he wanted.

No, the gates would not be sealed this time. The stones would never again be left in human hands. She would not make that mistake twice.

Chapter 2

Harrison rested his hand on the cold roof of the police cruiser, one of a dozen cars they’d parked in the grass of Dupont Circle Park. The fire ring blazed brightly in the falling snow, lighting the huge, chalice-shaped, marble fountain it circled.

It was almost midnight.

His hand went to his head, adjusting the riot helmet Jack had procured for them on short notice. All the Sitheen were now armed with helmets and bulletproof vests, hand shields and flame throwers, like some kind of bizarre urban army straight out of a sci-fi flick. Sadly, other than the movie part, that was exactly what they were.

If he’d owned an old-fashioned suit of armor, he’d have put it on. If the Marceils coming through that gate were half the archers Tarrys had been, the arrows would find any hole, any weakness. And Larsen’s vision would still come true.

Next time, if there was a next time, they were meeting the invasion with complete head-to-toe body armor.

He prayed they got another chance. What if they didn’t? What if they all died tonight? Who would be left to fight this war? Odds were, there were other Sitheen scattered around the world, but would they figure out what was going on before it was too late? Would they be able to stop the invasion when he and his friends had failed, or would the Esri hunt them down, one after another, and kill them before they ever had a chance?

A cold fist closed around his heart at the fear that his kids would meet that same fate. Sam and Stephie had been with him the first time he encountered an Esri. He’d taken them to see a matinee of The Lion King at the Kennedy Center then watched in horror as everyone in the theater turned into a zombie and started toward them as if to tear them limb from limb. All three of them would have died that day, he knew that now, if Larsen hadn’t foreseen their deaths and come to warn them. If not for hers and Jack’s intervention, they would have died.

He’d told Gwen, his ex-wife, to get the kids out of D.C. and keep them there until this was over. He was pretty sure she’d taken them and gone to stay with one of her cousins in Pennsylvania, but he’d told her not to tell him. There was no telling what an Esri could do and it was safer for the kids if he didn’t know.

But he called every couple of days to make sure they were all right, never losing hope that Stephie would recover from whatever that Esri bastard, Baleris, had done to her.

They had to win tonight. Who would protect his kids if they failed?

Six Sitheen and Kade circled the fountain, waiting for the night’s coming invasion. Jack had convinced Larsen to wait in the car, out of harm’s way, with Kade’s human soon-to-be wife, Autumn, and the retirees of the group, Aunt Myrtle and Norm. Norm had joined them only recently. A Sitheen and retired firefighter, he’d been the one to oversee the fire ring tonight.

Larsen had argued vehemently to be part of the fight, but though she was a warrior at heart, her battleground of training had been the courtroom. Harrison grunted. He’d never been a soldier himself, but he’d always been an athlete and he was a damned sight stronger than the Esri. In the past months, he’d procured the services of a fight coach to teach him the finer points of hand-to-hand combat. And that’s exactly what this was likely to come down to. Unless the arrows hit their mark.

Or unless fate finally smiled on them and the fire circle worked. The plan was simple. The only way to kill an Esri was to set him on fire and sing the death chant. At the first sign of invasion, the Sitheen would start chanting. If any of the Esri tried to breach the wall of flame, they’d die.

In all probability, they wouldn’t be so foolish, resulting in a standoff, the best possible scenario. This might be war, but they’d learned from Kade and a couple of others that not all Esri meant the humans harm. If they could keep them on their own side of the gate, all the better. If not, they’d try to capture them. If that failed, they’d do whatever they must to stop them.

They had no choice. The freedom of the entire human race was at stake.

He took another look around, satisfied that all the non-Sitheen cops and firefighters had pushed back to the other side of the street circling the park. Even though they wore bands of holly—a natural protection against enchantment—they were potentially vulnerable to Esri control. Nearby roads had all been closed. Harrison had to wonder what the locals thought was going on. The cops, too, for that matter. Only a handful at the top knew the truth. The last thing anyone wanted was panic.

The rhythmic tone of his cell phone startled him, sending his heart into a quick pound. A glance at the number told him nothing, except it wasn’t his brother’s phone. He swallowed back his disappointment, hesitated, then answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, big bro. Mission accomplished.”

“Charlie.” Harrison closed his eyes, tipping his head back. Thank you, God. “It’s Charlie!” he yelled.

He wasn’t the only one who’d been praying for this phone call. A chorus of cheers erupted around the circle.

“Where are you?”

“Iceland.”

“Iceland. Did you get the princess?”

“Of course. I’ll fill you in when you get here. Fly to Reykjavik and call this number and I’ll tell you where to meet us.”

“What about Tarrys?”

“She’s with me. I could knock your front teeth out for letting her come, but I won’t. I never would have made it without her.”

“I didn’t let her come. She was going with or without my consent. She just wanted to make sure someone knew she wasn’t coming right back.”

“Well, she’s with me permanently now.” A soft note that Harrison didn’t think he’d ever heard before entered his brother’s voice. “She just agreed to be my wife.”

Harrison’s jaw dropped.

“‘Congratulations’ would be the appropriate response,” Charlie drawled after the silence stretched too long.

“Right.” Hell. “It’s nearly midnight and we’ve got the gate circled in fire. Call me back in a couple of hours and I’ll let you know when I’ll be there.” He cleared his throat. “Charlie…Larsen had a vision about the gate tonight. If you don’t hear from me, you’ll have to find your own way back.”

Silence. “You’re doing something different, I hope, to change the outcome?”

“Of course. But we won’t know if it’s enough until it’s over. Glad you’re back, brother.”

“Be careful, Harrison.” Charlie’s triumphant tone had turned worried. He was the only true soldier of the group, and Harrison knew it must be killing him to be too far away to help with this fight. “I’ll wait for your call.”

Harrison hung up the phone.

“Did he get the princess?” Jack called.

“He did.” And he thought he was marrying Tarrys. No way in hell. Tarrys was cute enough, in a little-to-no-hair kind of way. But she wasn’t human. Not to mention the fact that Charlie had never paid her any real attention even though Tarrys had been obviously smitten with him from the start. Just how badly had she enchanted him? And Charlie had damn well better be enchanted, because if he thought he was bringing an immortal into the family…

Dammit. Harrison shoved the phone back in his pocket. All he wanted was his world back to normal. Was that too much to ask? An immortal sister-in-law was not the way to accomplish that.

“Where are they?” Jack asked.

“Iceland. He has Tarrys with him, too.”

“It’s about time something went right.”

“So, what’s the deal with Larsen’s vision?” one of the new recruits called. “I thought the Esri were coming early.”

Harrison stilled, his gaze slamming into Jack’s. “When Larsen said there was no fire…”

“We assumed…” Jack grimaced. “It’s almost midnight.”

Ah, hell.

As if on cue, the fire went out as if it had never been. No, they weren’t coming early, they just had someone who could put out the fire.

“Call Norm,” one of the recruits called.

“Esri!” another yelled.

Chaos erupted as dark forms leaped from the fountain. Harrison’s pulse began to pound as a dozen short archers in gray slaves’ robes began firing arrows in every direction. Marceils. Just as Larsen had foreseen.

“Stay down!” Jack’s voice rang over the park.

Harrison ducked behind the car he was using as a shield. Moments later, the taller Esri began to leap out of the gate dressed in dark hooded cloaks that all but hid their extreme paleness. The Sitheen had hoped the fire would turn the invasion into a standoff. Now it was clear they were in for a full-scale battle.

Gunshots rang through the park as a couple of the humans attempted to take down the Marceils. The immortal slaves wouldn’t stay down, but a gunshot seemed to take minutes for them to heal, rather than seconds, as it did the Esri.

Arrows clacked and thudded against car windows as if the Marceil didn’t realize they wouldn’t go through. And why should they? They didn’t have cars in Esria. Harrison doubted they even had glass.

Esri leaped out of the fountain, one after another, taking off at a dead run into the night. Harrison grabbed his flamethrower and shield and ran for the nearest invader. Hiding from the arrows might be the smartest move, but if he wanted to save his world, hiding wasn’t an option.

The plan was to set as many of the bastards on fire as they could. Fire wouldn’t kill them unless someone sang the death chant, but it should immobilize them for a good fifteen minutes or more. Long enough to hog-tie them and pull them into a waiting refrigerator truck tricked out with layers of iron and holly to dampen their magic. Hopefully. What they’d do with them after that, they’d yet to decide, but they’d prefer to take them prisoner rather than kill them outright, if possible.

Harrison ran for an Esri fleeing in his direction as arrows whizzed by him. One arrow struck Harrison in the helmet, another hit his shield, but neither slowed him down. It was clear these archers’ abilities were a far cry from Tarrys’s. Either that or they fought the compulsion to fire upon the humans. Unlike humans, an enslaved Marceil maintained full awareness of what he was being forced to do. Most, he suspected, had no desire to kill them.

He cut off the fleeing Esri and fired the flamethrower. Like magic, fire instantly engulfed the cloaked invader, his white-as-snow face taking on a mask of pain and fear. No doubt he expected to hear the death chant and explode into a million lights.

“Today’s your lucky day,” Harrison muttered, and left him for the hog-tying crew.

One down.

He saw another catch fire across the park. And another.

“Protect Jack!” Kade’s deep voice carried to him.

Harrison saw the problem at once. Eight Esri weren’t fleeing. Instead, they were going after Kade and Jack, the two with the death marks.

The humans might be trying to avoid killing the invaders. The Esri weren’t about to return the favor.

Kade ran for the Esri surrounding Jack, grabbing them, one at a time, and flinging them forty or fifty feet, as if they weighed nothing. Two recruits ran to set fire to the thrown Esri before they got up again. But though Kade fought to keep them away from Jack, the Esri weren’t stupid. When Kade’s hands were full flinging one of their hapless comrades, others raced past him, avoiding the giant half-blood until three had Jack surrounded. Jack fought back, his flamethrower engaged, but while he might set one or two of the bastards on fire before they touched him, he was unlikely to get all three.

Harrison ran for him, pulse pounding, the cold wind whipping at his face. He was almost there. Jack managed to set one of his attackers on fire, but as the Esri yelled with pain, an arrow struck Jack in the thigh. The cop went down.

Harrison and Kade reached him at the same moment, each diving for an Esri to knock him away before he could touch Jack and destroy him, each taking one to the ground. Unlike Jack and Kade, Harrison had no death mark and was in no danger of being killed from a touch.

Harrison’s Esri was big for his race, but no Esri without a healthy dose of human blood was muscular. While this one put up a halfway decent fight, his effort wasn’t enough. Harrison grabbed the Bic lighter out of his pocket, flicked it and shoved the flame into the bastard’s neck. As he leaped up and back, the Esri burst into flame.

“Harrison.”

Jack’s voice, tight with pain and something else, had him whirling around.

The other Esri who’d been trying to reach Jack was encased in fire. But so, too, was Kade. If anyone whispered the death chant, all those trapped in flame would die instantly.

Kade’s face was a mask of pain even though the fire that encased him was different than the others, sparkling unnaturally. Mystic fire. But like the other, it had him trapped but good.

“The Esri…” Kade groaned. “One of the ones who got away. Was King Rith. I recognized him…too late. He’s going after the stones.”

Hell. But they had a bigger problem at the moment. Keeping Kade alive.

A quick look around told Harrison the only Esri still nearby were those encased in flame. “Tell me what to do, Kade.”

“Don’t sing the death chant.”

Harrison grunted. Who knew Esri had a sense of humor? “I figured as much. Something a little more helpful?”

“The mystic fire will go out on its own in a couple of hours if no one activates it. But any Esri can find me. They can find any of us with death marks. They’ll be hunting us.”

“Then we’ve got to get you out of here.” Harrison started barking out orders to the nearby Sitheen. “Get Myrtle, Larsen and Autumn.” Myrtle was an unnaturally gifted healer and Jack needed her. And both Jack and Kade needed their women right now. “Brad, get the police van over here and six cops. Strong ones.”

They might tie and drag the other Esri into a waiting truck, but Kade was one of their own now.

“How many did we catch?” Jack asked.

“Ten or eleven,” Harrison replied. “But just as many escaped.”

“Hell.”

Larsen and Autumn ran toward them, Aunt Myrtle following at a far slower pace.

Autumn stared in horror at Kade. “You’re going to die.”

“Not if we have anything to say about it,” Harrison said behind her. “We’re going to load him into a closed police van and drive him out of the city until the flame dissipates.”

The redhead’s gaze swung to Harrison. “I’m going with him.”

“We’re both going with him.” If the Esri followed, they’d be in for another fight.

Autumn stepped closer to Kade, her eyes throbbing with misery. “Can I touch you? Will I catch fire?”

Kade’s expression eased. “Mystic fire can’t hurt you. It’s meant only for me.”

“Will my touch hurt you more?”

“Never.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Autumn stepped into those sparkling flames and slid her arms around Kade’s waist, laying her head on his shoulder. Harrison shook his head with disbelief at the absolute trust such a move took. Trust in an Esri.

As the police van drove into the park, Harrison stepped forward and took charge. It took all six cops to lift the flaming seven-foot male, but they got him into the van and laid him on the floor. The cops climbed out and Autumn hopped in. She lay beside her fiancé, her arms slipping around his waist, her head on his shoulder, though he had no freedom of movement to hold her in return.

Harrison watched as she lifted her head and kissed Kade. How could she love one of those creatures? Though, admittedly, Kade was half human and didn’t look Esri at all.

He closed the door on the pair and joined the driver, one of Jack’s friends on the metropolitan police force. As they headed north on Connecticut, he pulled out his cell phone and called Charlie.

“We’re still here, little brother.”

Silence, then a loud exhale of air. “Thank God.”

“Tell me you didn’t acquire a death mark in Esria.”

Charlie was silent for the space of two heartbeats. “Can’t do that.”

Dammit. He told him about Kade, then promised to get to Iceland as soon as he could. “Whatever you do, do not let the princess touch you.”

At every turn, the Esri proved themselves to be more and more dangerous. As if it weren’t bad enough the Sitheen were mortals, with all their human frailties. Now half their team had death marks. All the Esri had to do was touch them and wish them dead and they would be.

Except him.

With a slam of understanding, he realized what had to happen. Someone had to watch and guard Princess Ilaria until the next full moon. Someone without a death mark.

Him.

Ah, hell.

Chapter 3

The sun was low on the horizon on a crystal-clear December day when Harrison and the two Sitheen recruits who’d accompanied him arrived at the hotel in Reykjavik, Iceland. The hotel, like the city, was the definition of old-world Nordic charm.

Harrison had barely lifted his hand to rap on Charlie’s door when the door swung open and his brother met him with a grin. They embraced, slapping one another on the back.

“Ye of little faith,” Charlie chided, pulling away. “You were sure I wouldn’t make it.”

Harrison didn’t deny it. “I’m glad I was wrong, little brother.”

A flash of green across the room caught his eye, drawing his gaze. Harrison froze. On a chair beside the window, her hands tied together in her lap, sat the palest woman he’d ever seen. And, God help him, the most beautiful. Princess Ilaria. Goose bumps lifted on his forearms as the hair rose on the back of his neck. Esri.

“Easy, bro,” Charlie said quietly. “Why don’t you come into the room?”

She looked exactly like the painting. Exactly. Both her skin and hair were pale, pale, pale, but not the ultra toothpaste-white of some of the Esri. Creamy, like new ivory, startling and stunning against the shimmering emerald green of her gown.

Striking.

Her hair fell in soft curls, framing a face that might have been considered delicate on another woman. But he sensed nothing delicate about this one. Her full, sculpted mouth sat firm upon an oval face framed by a strong, finely curved jaw. Her eyes, as brilliantly emerald as her gown, flashed with intelligence and steel, reminding him she was no twentysomething-year-old, no matter what she looked like.

Charlie thrust out his hand to the two Sitheen recruits, who were still standing in the hallway. “Charlie Rand.”

“Brad Parsons,” the kid replied. Not such a kid, really. Not at twenty-five. Kade had found him at Quantico, training to be a U.S. Marine.

Harrison’s gaze dipped, drawn against his will to that shimmering green gown that covered the princess neck to wrists to ankles, yet hugged her form, setting off her full breasts to perfect advantage. A charge of raw attraction bolted through his blood, horrifying him. She was Esri. But God help him, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“Tom Drummond,” their pilot said behind him as the introductions continued without him. Tom was mid-forties, an air force colonel Kade had found who was bored and restless at a desk job in the Pentagon. All Kade had to do was touch a human to know if he or she was Sitheen. All he had to do to convince them his story was true was cut himself and let them watch him heal in an instant.

A top-notch recruiter.

Like the others, Tom had taken temporary leave until they got this invasion under control. The President of the United States himself now knew the situation and had given them carte blanche to deal with it. Only a handful outside the Sitheen circle knew what was really going on. And they intended to keep it that way.

Struggling against his unholy fascination, Harrison finally managed to wrench his gaze from Princess Ilaria. Glancing around, he took in the clean, sparse lines of the Nordic décor before noticing Tarrys standing by the foot of the bed. She gave him a small smile unlike any he’d seen on her before. Not shy this time. Not subservient. A smile of welcome. And confidence.

She’d changed. Gone was the slave’s robe, as well as the hair that had started to grow on her head. She was dressed in leather boots, dark slacks and a thick wool sweater that nevertheless accentuated her slenderness. The picture of casual bald chic. But the differences went deeper. Gone was the skittish little slave. In her place stood a woman of bearing and confidence. A woman who held herself with pride, meeting his gaze with strength and certainty.

Transformed.

Just what had happened to her and his brother in that place? He had no idea, but it occurred to him that maybe Charlie’s falling for her wasn’t magic after all. At least not the unnatural kind.

Charlie ushered them into the room and closed the door, then went to Tarrys, his gaze softening with an expression Harrison had never seen in his brother’s eyes. Adoration. Love. A look utterly returned by the petite Marceil. A soft, lovely smile wreathed Tarrys’s pretty face as she took the hand he proffered.

Harrison was the first to admit that he was no expert on enchantment, but he knew love when he saw it. At least in other people. Hell, between Jack and Larsen, and Autumn and Kade, he was choking on the stuff. And watching Charlie and Tarrys, he was all too afraid he was indeed about to gain an immortal sister-in-law.

Charlie pulled the small woman against him and turned to face them. “This is Tarrys, soon to be my wife.”

“She’s bald,” Brad murmured behind him.

Charlie merely lifted an eyebrow. “So?”

“Sorry, sir,” Brad said with quick contrition. His gaze skipped to Tarrys. “Ma’am. I didn’t mean any offense.”

Tarrys’s eyes turned soft with understanding. “Few women of your world go without hair. Fewer still, willingly. It’s unusual.”

“Yes, ma’am, it is,” Brad said. “Still, I should have kept the thought to myself.”

“Neither of the women are human?” Tom asked. Harrison had briefed the men about Ilaria, but not Tarrys.

Charlie’s gaze sharpened, but his voice remained even. “Both are from Esria. Both are immortal. Tarrys is a Marceillian priestess who’s been enslaved by the Esri.”

“And I am Princess Ilaria, the rightful queen of Esria.” Ilaria’s firm yet melodious voice filled the room. It was a voice that pleasured Harrison’s ears and sent a thrill skating over his skin, raising goose bumps.

He frowned at his unwarranted reaction to her voice. Was she employing some kind of royal enchantment on them? But as he glanced at the others, he saw curiosity in their eyes, perhaps even awe. But not attraction. Not one looked like he felt as if his lungs were being squeezed from the inside out.

Her words echoed in the room, ringing with conviction and truth, yet somehow lacking arrogance. She was their prisoner, yet her green eyes revealed no fear. Instead, cunning and intelligence sparkled in those extraordinary eyes. Perhaps even a hint of humor. Was she laughing at them? Were they fools to believe they could capture a rattler and turn it against their enemies without getting struck themselves?

Her wide, well-shaped mouth curled ever so slightly upward as if a smile were indeed about to bloom on her face, and he watched with an anticipation that had chills of another kind sliding over his flesh. His reaction to her wasn’t right, it wasn’t natural.

Her otherness, her Esri-ness, should have repelled him. He knew that.

Yet from the moment he’d set eyes on her, he hadn’t been able to turn away.

Dammit.

He clapped his hands together, desperate to break the spell, shifting the attention back to him. “Let’s get going. D.C.’s crawling with Esri and we need to get back.”

Charlie made a move toward the princess. Harrison’s heart plummeted to his stomach as he remembered the way Kade had gone up in flames at a single touch. Harrison lunged forward. “I’ve got her, Charlie.”

His brother glanced at him, his eyebrow arcing. “She’s tied to the chair.”

“Then I’ll be the one to untie her. I don’t have a death mark.” He didn’t get his brother back only to lose him again, not like that.

Charlie shrugged. “She’s all yours.”

Harrison pushed past his brother and Tarrys. The princess, sitting with her back ramrod straight on the chair, watched him draw near, snagging his gaze—not gently, not kindly. Her eyes, as brilliant as the finest emeralds, bore into his, warning of battle even as they whispered of laughter. And shimmered with heat.

She’d no doubt noticed him staring at her. He steeled himself against this unholy fascination, but as he bent over her shoulder to untie the knot that held her firmly to the chair, the scent of her hair rushed his senses, slamming him with raw desire. She smelled at once exotic and sweet, like gardenias in a tropical garden. The scent drugged him. Intoxicated him.

Hell.

His fingers fumbled with the rope, finally freeing the knot. When he pushed back, straightening, he found her watching him with eyes warm and electric, as if she could feel the hammering of his pulse. As if hers pounded as well.

He tried to look away and failed, mesmerized by her high cheekbones and the perfect shape of her nose. By the curve of her jaw and that lush, ripe mouth that lifted at the corners ever so slightly. Even her skin enthralled him and his fingers itched to know if the pale marble perfection could possibly feel as warm and silken soft as it appeared.

As the blood pounded through his body, his mind recoiled at the turn of his thoughts. She was casting some kind of enchantment over him. There was no other explanation. With more roughness than he’d intended, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet, her hands still tied in front of her.

“Let’s go, Princess.”

“No.” To his surprise, she fought him, digging in her heels. That touch of humor had vanished, her eyes snapping with pride and anger. “Free me entirely, human. I’m tired of being bound.”

He met those brilliant eyes, for a moment stumbling into their green depths before he found his footing and steeled himself with his own anger.

“As long as you’re near anyone with a death mark, you’re staying tied.”

“I’m not a fool. I’m not going to harm my allies. Charlie is my way to the stones.”

“He was. Now we all are. I’m thinking you might consider him expendable.”

“And what would you do if I killed him here and now?” Her words cut as she lifted her chin and stared at him.

Ignoring the unfortunate attraction still pounding through his veins, he tightened his grip on her arm, yanking her around until he was fully in her face. “If you harm my brother in any way, the gates be damned. I’ll kill you.”

She nodded calmly. “Which is why I would be a fool to try to harm him. I don’t care that he has a death mark.” One blond eyebrow rose. “I might even be inclined to forgive the mark once I have my stones.”

He stilled. “You can remove death marks?”

“I can, as the rightful queen.”

“Then do it.”

“I need the draggon stone.”

He grunted and turned, dragging her with him toward the door. “Convenient, Princess.”

“You believe I’m lying? The draggon stone answers to royal blood and always has. Within it lies my power.”

“You haven’t had the draggon stone in fifteen centuries. Forgive me for having a hard time believing you’d have left the source of your power with us, where not even your queen could find it.”

She didn’t answer for a moment and when she did her voice was low and subdued. “I did what I had to do.”

He glanced at her, trying to figure her out…trying to ignore her feminine assault on his senses. “So when we get you back to D.C., if we allow you to touch the draggon stone, you can forgive all the death marks?”

“If you allow me to touch the stone? The stone is mine, human. As the rightful queen, they’re all mine.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

Temper flared in her eyes. “Yes, I can forgive the death marks.”

“Will you?”

She looked up at him, the light of challenge quickly eclipsing the anger in her eyes. Slowly, her mouth began to curl upward in an intriguing shadow of a smile that charged the already electric air between them.

“Allies help one another,” she purred. “Perhaps you should be trying to convince me you’re my ally, and not my enemy. Free me.”

“You ask too much, Princess. I don’t trust any Esri.” Especially one powerful enough to weave a sensual spell over a Sitheen, for that was exactly what she had to be doing. There was no way he’d be attracted to an Esri otherwise. Not when he knew the evil they were capable of. Not when his own daughter suffered still. But despite everything logical and right, he was definitely, horrifyingly attracted to this woman.

Ilaria clenched her jaw tight as the human propelled her down the hotel’s hallway. She was infuriated that he insisted on keeping her tied like a common slave. Never had humans treated her so poorly. In the old days, they’d revered her. Then again, these were no ordinary humans. They were Sitheen. Humans with a trace of Esri blood who could be neither enchanted nor tricked with glamour.

Worse, these Sitheen knew the death chant…and how to use it. Two thousand years she’d lived, yet they could destroy her in seconds.

Yes, they maddened and infuriated her, but sweet Esria, that wasn’t all.

Striding beside her, tall and strong, Harrison’s nearness caressed her skin with a tingling pleasure. Even through her sleeve, she felt his fingers curled around her arm, warm and fierce, yet surprisingly gentle. In the air between them, desire thickened, awareness sizzled.

When was the last time she’d felt desire like this for a male? Not for as long as she could remember. Yet despite his sharp, distrustful eyes, there was something about this male that pulled and tugged at her in all her darkest, most vulnerable places.

He glanced at her, meeting her gaze, sending a rare force of masculine power rippling over her skin. Human males were so much more physical than Esri. So much more aggressive, more potent. The simple gaze of this one heated her, turning her to liquid deep inside. Passion burned in his eyes, passion walled behind a barricade of fierce control.

And anger.

For a moment, she thought she felt something more. A touch of energy. The shadow of a latent, untapped power she couldn’t identify, but could feel whispering through his aura.

Strange.

He pulled her forward, his grip on her arm unyielding, and she fought him no longer, knowing too well his strength far exceeded her own. If she didn’t give in, she’d find herself flung upside down over his shoulder and carried as Charlie had carried her through the gate. A princess could only take so much indignity.

Her own anger steeped and stewed even as his nearness made her blood warm and her skin dance with excitement. How was it possible he had this pull on her? If Harrison weren’t human, she might question whether he possessed a rare ability to enchant an Esri. Instead, she feared the weakness was hers alone.

No, not alone. She was quite sure he shared it. And that could, possibly, work to her advantage. She must convince him that her intent was to seal the gates as they wanted her to. Convince him to hand over the stones to her. And a smitten male was so much easier to manipulate.

Of course, this human was far from smitten. He might feel desire for her, but his hatred ran deep. A hatred, she suspected, for all her kind. She might talk of being allies but they weren’t and they both knew it. The humans had made it clear they didn’t trust her, nor were they giving her any choice in what she did with the stones. Yes, this could be fun. She needed a little excitement after three hundred years of incarceration. Her own special means of retribution for this human’s disrespectful treatment of her.

A small smile curved her mouth at the prospect of the sensual battle to come as he led her through the room and out the door into the hallway where the others waited.

A battle she didn’t intend to lose.

Chapter 4

“What are those?” Ilaria asked, nodding toward the headphones Tarrys had slipped over her ears in the private jet. “If you’d untie me and allow me to touch a human, a non-Sitheen, I would know these things.”

“Headphones. And you’re not touching anyone.” Harrison knew that a full-blooded Esri could absorb a human’s entire store of knowledge with a single touch. They might come into this world clueless, but they didn’t stay that way long. Harrison sighed. “I suppose you want to watch the movie, too?”

“Of course. What’s a movie?”

From the moment he’d steered the princess out of the hotel room, Harrison had become her keeper. And he was pretty certain she was enjoying driving him slowly insane. All he wanted to do was get as far from her as possible, to break this ungodly attraction that refused to die. Instead, he was stuck with her.

He grabbed another set of headphones and lifted them onto her delicate head, pushing aside the pale, curly hair covering her ears. The soft, springy feel caressed his hands and he was slammed with a longing to wrap one thick lock around his fingers and draw it to his nose to inhale its sweet scent. Ignoring her wasn’t even a possibility. As he adjusted the earphones over her dainty ears, she watched him, those green eyes reflecting every ounce of the heat that had been building inside him since the moment he first touched her.

He tore his gaze from hers, refusing to fall into that sensual pit again, but her mouth moved, catching his attention, and he watched her pink tongue dart out to lick ripe, gorgeous lips. Lust sent the blood pounding through his body. With a growl, he flicked on the headset.

As sound filled the headphones, Ilaria’s eyes widened, and her gaze flew to his for one startled moment before a look of pure delight crossed her face. The smile that bloomed in its wake took his breath away.

Ilaria turned away to face the small flatscreen television projecting out from the wall of the plane, breaking the spell. Harrison sat back in his seat beside her, his breathing erratic, his runaway pulse pounding in his ears. Looking up, he found his brother watching him with amusement and silent speculation.

“Go to hell,” Harrison muttered. He glanced at his watch.

“When was the last time you heard from Jack?” Charlie asked.

“Right before we picked you up. He or Kade should be calling with another report within the hour.”

The humor left Charlie’s eyes. They were dealing with a major invasion this time, and the greatest threat the world had ever known. If King Rith got those stones, it was all over.

“Anyway…” Charlie cleared his throat and resumed his story, giving Harrison the short version of his trip through Esria. “We reached the Forest of Nightmares not a moment too soon, but Jesus, Harrison. That place will steal your mind. The name couldn’t be more accurate. Whatever you’re most afraid of appears. It may not be real, but damn if you don’t think it is. I found myself surrounded by Esri who weren’t there, and nearly run down by an eighteen-wheeler. In the forest.”

Musical laughter trilled beside Harrison. Ilaria’s laughter. The sound caressed his senses, stroking him inside and out. He struggled to ignore her and failed, unable to forget what Charlie had told him earlier, that she’d been incarcerated in a village no bigger than a football field. For three hundred years. No wonder she couldn’t quite contain her smiles or laughter. She must be ecstatic to be free.

Even though they were essentially holding her captive.

His gaze slid to her, lingering on the creamy pale flesh of her cheek and the long expanse of silken neck peeking out through the soft cascade of curls. He breathed in her scent, sweet gardenias, and felt things tighten low in his body as his gaze dipped lower, to the ripe swell of breasts beneath that amazing gown.

“So fill me in on what’s happened while we were gone,” Charlie said, drawing Harrison’s attention back to where it belonged—anywhere but Ilaria. A keen speculation lit Charlie’s eyes. Harrison pretended not to notice.

“We’re all but certain Esri came through some of the other gates last month. Reports of sexual assaults and abductions have skyrocketed in five very specific locations, all in northern Europe. London, Copenhagen and small towns in close proximity to three stone circles, one each in England, Scotland and France.”

“You think the circles were originally erected as an attempt to defend against the monthly Esri invasions?”

“Seems likely, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does. So, tell me about the Sitheen recruits.”

“Kade’s been traveling almost constantly, from one military base to another, and from police station to police station. Once we’ve exhausted the most likely places to find trained warriors, he’ll expand the search.”

“How many has he found?”

“Six. We lost one last night during the battle. One of the Marceils’ arrows went right through his eye.”

“Damn. So who do we have other than Brad and Tom? Handy that Tom’s a pilot, by the way.”

“It is.” Tom was flying the jet, Brad keeping him company. “Norm is a retired firefighter in his seventies. He and Myrtle hit it off as if they were made for one another.”

Charlie smiled. “A bit of romance?”

“No doubt about it. The other two are brother and sister. Paige is a detective with the Richmond police, mid-forties, and a crack shot. Frank is her brother, also a cop, though not as fit. Still, he knows what to do in a fight.”

“Who did we lose?”

“A young navy ensign. The most promising of the bunch.”

Charlie swore softly. “Myrtle couldn’t help him?”

“The arrow punctured his brain. He was killed instantly. Myrtle’s a gifted healer, but she can’t raise the dead.”

Harrison went on to fill his brother in on the full battle, struggling to forget the woman who sat beside him, which turned out to be an impossible task. Her presence filled the air.

He and Charlie were still talking an hour and a half later when the movie finally finished. Tarrys pulled off her headphones and stood up. “I need to move around.”

Charlie watched her, the look in his eyes all predatory male. “I’ll go with you.” He rose and looped his arm across Tarrys’s shoulder, the air crackling between them. “Maybe we can find something to eat.”

Harrison grunted. If it was food on Charlie’s mind, Harrison was a chimpanzee. More likely, his brother was planning to join the mile-high club. If he hadn’t already.

As the pair walked off together, Harrison turned to find Ilaria watching them with a speculative and knowing gaze of her own.

“Do you want the headphones off?” he asked her.

That gaze turned to him, heat swirling in the depths of her eyes. “For now.”

His pulse began to speed even before he reached for her. If only he could assign the task to someone else. Bracing himself, he lifted his hands and took hold of the headphones, that soft-as-silk hair of hers teasing and caressing his sensitive flesh as he pulled them away.

Her gaze never left his, her eyes hot as sin as her tongue slowly licked her lips. “They’ve gone to find a place to mate in privacy. It’s the first chance they’ve had since we came through the gate.”

“You don’t know that. They may be looking for food.”

One pale eyebrow rose, hot laughter dancing in her eyes. “Are you truly so naive?”

Harrison scowled. “No.” He sat back in his seat, his eyes still caught in hers. His gaze turned rueful. “I’m sure they’re doing it, too.”

Answering humor flickered in eyes that steamed even as they danced with mischief. “I’m attracted to you, human. More than I’ve been to any male in a long, long time. While your brother mates with the Marceil, let me take you inside my body.”

Her words all but blew away his rigid control, a glorious picture erupting in his head of him pulling her gown up to her waist, freeing himself, then pulling her down to straddle him as he pushed deep, deep inside her heat. Blood throbbed in his veins, beating a carnal pulse as he grew harder and harder and harder.

“I’m not having sex with you.” His words were little more than a growl, his voice choked with desire.

Her eyes dimmed. Not enough that anyone else would probably have noticed, but he did.

“Because I’m Esri.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

She looked away, stealing the heat of her gaze. “That’s too bad, human. You would have found pleasure with me. We both would have.”

Begging his body to settle down, he sat back in his seat. “The name is Harrison. Not ‘human.’”

She watched him. “You’re not like the others, Harrison. You have a power they lack. A power unnatural to humans.”

His heart gave an awkward thud. “What do you mean?”

In her expression he saw absolute seriousness for once. When she spoke, the seductive tone was missing. “I don’t know. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Familiar, yet not, and deep within you. Nothing that’s ever risen to the surface. Perhaps nothing you’ll ever be able to reach.”

As badly as he wanted to tune out her words, he couldn’t. Because he already knew.

Most of the Sitheen had discovered strange gifts that had apparently been passed down to them from their Esri ancestors. Larsen’s premonitions of death, Jack’s ability to talk to his ancestors, Myrtle’s healing ability. Neither he nor Charlie had appeared to have any Esri gifts. Until he’d touched the draggon stone and felt a strange thrill of recognition, as if the power in the stone had welcomed him. He’d only touched it once, as he had the other six stones. The latter had sent an unpleasant crawling sensation climbing into his head from the base of his skull.

Both times, he’d asked Charlie if he felt anything. Both times Charlie had denied it. Harrison preferred to think whatever he’d felt was just his imagination, but he’d never really believed it. And he’d never stopped wondering what it meant.

The princess’s assertion that there was something strange going on inside him just confirmed his own suspicion. And he couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or bad. While he wanted nothing to do with Esria, he’d be a fool to ignore anything that might help them win this war.

The question was could he trust a word the princess said? He just didn’t know.

Her gaze dropped to his lap, to the erection that still strained painfully against his zipper. “Let me touch you, Harrison,” she said, her voice low and husky. “Let me feel your power.”

“Yeah, right.” He grabbed the headphones and pushed them back over her ears with minimal care. “Watch another movie,” he said gruffly, punching the play button. He rose and moved to the other side of the plane and sat down where he could keep an eye on her, but not close enough to be tempted.

His hands curled around the seat arms, clenching until his knuckles turned white at the thought of her touching him. At the thought of her straddling him…

He groaned from the pulsing ache of need and forced his gaze out the window to the sea of sunlit clouds. Anywhere but on her.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, trying to catch his breath and still the racing beat of his heart, when the onboard phone rang.

Harrison shoved himself from his seat and grabbed it.

“We’ve got trouble,” Jack said a moment later.

“Hold on, Jack. Charlie!”

As he returned to his seat beside Ilaria, she met his gaze, her eyes sharp and serious. “Take off my headphones. I would hear this.”

After a moment’s indecision, he did as she asked, then sat beside her as Charlie and Tarrys joined them, both flushed with that insufferable glow. He jammed a button and held the phone on his knee.

“You’re on speaker, Jack. Charlie and Tarrys are here, too.”

“Glad to have you back, Charlie. Have you acquired a death mark?”

“I have.”

“Then you’re with us. Larsen and I were attacked by half a dozen Esri thugs a couple of hours ago. They had a singer.” A singer was the term they used for an Esri who could enchant surrounding humans with a song, turning them into his own personal weapons. “We nearly didn’t make it out of there. Kade’s joined us and we’re on the run. We’re trying to come up with a way to turn the tables on them.”

“So they’re not going for the stones?”

“Best we can tell, they’re neither organized nor heading in any particular direction. Except ours. But we don’t know where King Rith is. Kade hasn’t seen him since midnight, and the rest of us don’t know what he looks like.”

Beside him, Ilaria tensed. “King Rith is here?”

Harrison nodded. “He came through last night with a large number of guards and Marceils.”

“Where are my stones?” she demanded.

“Forgive me, Princess,” Jack said. “But that’s not information we can share at this point. I assume Charlie told you why he rescued you?”

“You wish me to seal the gates again.”

“Yes, we do. When the time comes, we’ll allow you access to the stones.”

She scoffed. “Sealing the gates will do neither of us any good as long as Rith and his men remain on this side. You must give me the stones so that I can protect them.”

“Can you seal the gates other than at the full moon?” Jack asked.

“Unfortunately, no. The draggon stone, the source of my power, hasn’t the ability to open the gates early. But if Rith gets his hands on the other six, the stones of Orisis, he’ll be able to use their dark power to do so.”

“If he gets the stones, won’t he just tear down the walls between the worlds?” Charlie asked.

She shook her head. “Such powerful magic can only be called upon at the Temple of the Ancients deep in the Dark Mountains of Esria. He’ll open the gates and flee, which is why you must give me the stones, and quickly. I’ll not only protect them until the full moon, but I’ll forgive your death marks.”

“You can do that?” Jack asked, clearly surprised. “Hold on.”

Harrison could hear Jack talking to someone in the background. A moment later, he was back.

“Kade confirms she should have that ability once she has the draggon stone in her possession.”

“Who is Kade to know such things?” Ilaria asked, once more the imperious royal.

If only her demands made her less attractive. They didn’t.

“You know him as Kaderil the Dark,” Jack said.

Harrison saw her eyes flare and watched her mouth open with disbelief. “He’s Esri.”

“He’s half Esri and he’s one of us now.”

Her shocked gaze met Harrison’s.

Charlie leaned forward. “If King Rith has the ability to sense the stones, then the moment we bring the draggon stone out of hiding, he’ll be on it. We need to leave it hidden. Besides, I’m not sure what good removing the death marks will do when we’re still hunting Esri. We’ll just get them back again.”

“I agree,” Jack said. “Our plan is to capture King Rith and the rest of his guards before the full moon.”

Ilaria’s graceful hands fisted in her lap. “You must kill him, not capture him. He’s far too dangerous. No Caller can be allowed to live.”

Jack’s voice was wry. “I was trying to spare your sensibilities, Princess, but we’d come to that conclusion, as well. King Rith has to die. We’ll capture whatever Esri we can, but before those gates are sealed, they’ll all be back in Esria. Or dead. Leaving any on this side with the stones will defeat the purpose of sealing the gates.”

“Killing is not our way, human. But under the circumstances, I agree. You did not start this war. I do not blame you for doing what you must to protect yourselves.”

Harrison watched her, trying to decide if she was telling the truth or simply telling them what they wanted to hear. His gut said the former. Then again, he wasn’t sure why he should be surprised. King Rith and his goons had killed her mother and imprisoned Ilaria for three hundred years. She deserved a little revenge.

Jack continued. “Kade believes King Rith will go after Princess Ilaria if he realizes she’s here. He’ll try to eliminate the competition for the throne. Harrison, since you’re the only one without a bull’s-eye on your forehead, you’ll need to get her out of harm’s way until we catch him.”

As he’d expected. He glanced at Ilaria as a knowing little light flickered to life in her eyes and a seductive shadow of a smile slowly lifted the corners of her mouth. Once more, the thought of her straddling him intimately roared through his head, sending his blood pressure soaring. Any hope of getting his libido back under control crashed to the ground.

From the moment he’d met her, he’d anticipated a battle. What he hadn’t expected was for the battle to be sensual, or that his own body would become his worst enemy.

Chapter 5

“Would you cease with that?” Ilaria snapped, hating the quaver in her voice, but unable to control it. Beside her, as he ushered her and Tarrys through the busy Reagan National Airport, Harrison flicked the small lighter at his side on and off, on and off. A constant reminder—a threat—of what he’d do to her if she so much as breathed on the Marceil.

“I said I’ll not touch her, and I won’t.” She tore her gaze from him and that awful lighter, trying to focus instead on her incredible surroundings. Above, the soaring, gilded ceiling of the airport curved sharply downward like a beautiful flower too heavy for its stem.

At least Harrison had untied her, though she was well aware that he’d done it not as a concession to her, and certainly not because he trusted her, but to avoid the attention they’d otherwise draw in this very public place.

Even such a tiny fire had raven wings fluttering in her chest as she struggled against full panic.

The moment the plane had landed, Charlie had left, afraid his death mark would draw King Rith to them. The other two Sitheen who’d accompanied Harrison to Iceland remained, and now followed close behind.

She was frustratingly tired of being treated as a prisoner. But until she got those stones, she wouldn’t escape. Even if she could.

Trying to ignore Harrison and the flame that threatened to strip her composure one flicker at a time, she studied the humans passing by. Most glanced at her, then away, as if by noticing her they might offend. In the old days, before she’d sealed the gates, humans often gaped at her, their faces either filling with terror, or awe and wonder.

She much preferred the latter, though it appeared that receiving homage from the humans was a thing of the past. Indeed, from what she’d been able to glean, the humans as a race did not remember the Esri.

A situation that was certain to change if Rith had his way.

As Harrison led them through the wide glass doors to the outside, he took hold of her upper arm, a firm grip she’d find impossible to escape, she was certain. Once more, the feel of his fingers sank through the fabric of her sleeve and into her skin, sending tendrils of warmth burrowing into her blood. Not a sweet warmth, for there was nothing kind about his touch that sought only to ensure Tarrys’s safety. No, despite her frustration and wariness with the man, this heat lifted her pulse in a way that was all too pleasant. All too carnal.

Without a doubt, she desired him. As he did her. Sooner or later, she’d enjoy acting on that desire, if she could ever get him to unbend that far. A very big if. He wasn’t a man given to impulsive action, not unless that action was in defense of his brother. Interesting that she should be so sure about that, given that she’d known him only a matter of hours. But she didn’t doubt her own assessment. In a way she couldn’t quite explain, she felt as if she’d known him far longer than just the day.

Keeping firm hold of her, Harrison led the small group across the paved street to where numerous vehicles sat. A parking garage. She knew the words, for she acquired language instantly, though it was taking her far longer to make sense of it all than it would if he’d simply let her touch a human and learn what they knew. The man was so irritatingly distrustful.

On the second level, they came to a stop behind a small, bright blue car. A series of beeps sounded, the lights flashing. As the Marceil started around the left side of the conveyance, Harrison tugged her right, pulling something from his pocket.

Ilaria glanced down, afraid he was going for the lighter again. Instead, he’d removed something metal. Her eyes widened, then narrowed with anger as she identified the manacles that now hung from his fingers.

Her eyes snapped upward as she speared him with a sharp, stinging gaze. “You risk my ill will, human. A dangerous thing to do considering what you need of me.”

“Sorry, Princess.” But his tone held not the slightest edge of remorse. Instead, he pulled on her arm, snapping one loop of metal around her wrist before she could stop him.

Ilaria tried to jerk her other hand out of his reach, but he merely turned her, pushing her against the car, face-first, and snapped the second manacle around her other wrist. Only one other time in her entire life had she been treated so poorly—the morning she was hauled from her bed, accused of treachery and transported to the Forest of Nightmares.

If only she had magic that would work against a Sitheen!

She kicked back at him, but her gown hampered her movement and her heel collided with his shin with little more than a dull thud. He moved closer, pinning her against the car, pressing a hard ridge into her lower back. She stilled, taking a harsh breath, feeling his desire. Inside her, an answering need flared.

“Release me.”

“Not on your life.” His voice sounded close to her right ear.

Then mate with me, she wanted to say, but held her tongue, knowing she’d only anger him further.

Sliding one arm around her waist, he pulled her back against his muscular chest, the hard length of his erection nestled firmly against her. He opened the door, then slid to the right, his hand once more only around her arm.

“Get in.”

She glared at him over her shoulder. “Not until you start treating me with respect.”

Gripping her shoulders, he wrenched her around to face him, reminding her how much bigger he was than her. Overpowering her with his sheer maleness.

“Cooperate, Princess, and we’ll get along fine.” He speared her with hot, hard eyes. “Don’t, and we may find you more trouble than you’re worth.”

A cool trickle of fear slid down her spine, but she met him glare for glare. “You won’t end me. You need me.”

“Do you really want to test that theory?” He let the question, heavy and disquieting, hang between them. “Get in the car, Ilaria, or I’ll pull out the lighter again.”

“You’re a barbarian.”

“No. But neither am I a fool. I’ll show you the respect due your rank when and if I decide to trust you. Until then, you’re the enemy.”

She stared him down, refusing to bend. “You risk everything you want, human.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, his hand went to his pocket and that hated lighter.

With a huff of anger, Ilaria forced down her pride and slid into the low-slung automobile as he’d demanded.

Harrison followed her, leaning across her to pull yet another restraint across her chest. Desperately, she tried to ignore him, struggling against the physical appeal of the man, but his nearness filled her senses all over again. His scent was a heady mix of the strange facets of the human’s modern realm—the air in the airplane, the lingering scent of some intriguing aftershave. But also of wool and wind and warm, masculine male. And she wanted.

“Why are you tying me down? Are you afraid I’ll attack you with my teeth?”

He glanced at her, his strong face only inches away, so close she could see flecks of gold in his eyes. Heat swirled in those gray-green depths as they caught hold of hers, holding her fast. In his cheek, a muscle leaped. Between his eyebrows, a frown slowly appeared, a pair of tiny lines like the arc of bird wings.

“Believe it or not,” he said softly, his voice no longer filled with anger, “the seat belts are to keep us safe in case we get into an accident.”

“No accident could harm me.” Her own voice was soft with breathlessness.

“Nevertheless, it’s the law.” Tearing his gaze away, he glanced down, fastening the belt with a metallic click. Pulling away, he straightened and closed her door, then went around the car to get in the other side. The other two Sitheen had apparently left, for only the Marceil sat in the backseat—directly behind Harrison, where Ilaria couldn’t possibly touch her.

Harrison steered the vehicle into the heavy traffic, silent for a time before he glanced into the mirror, a pensive expression on his face. “Charlie tells me you’re a priestess, Tarrys.”

Ilaria glanced at the Marceil, watching a soft confidence fill the slave’s expression. “I am, though it matters little anymore.”

“You and Charlie are really getting married?”

A smile bloomed on the other woman’s face with a depth of joy Ilaria had rarely seen. “He asked me to be his wife, Harrison, and there’s nothing I want more.”

Harrison frowned. “Why would you tie yourself to him? You’re immortal. He’s only got fifty or sixty years at most.”

The Marceil’s smile dimmed. “I’m aware of that, but I love him and will stay by his side for as long as Charlie and your God allow.”

Ilaria couldn’t imagine feeling that deeply for someone. For anyone. She’d had friends and companions aplenty through the years, though most she’d not seen in centuries. The men incarcerated with her within the forest for three hundred years had become closer to her than family, almost extensions of herself. Once she returned to Esria, she’d find a way to free them. But though she loved them like brothers, not a man among them had ever broken through the walls of her heart. Not a one had ever made her feel, even for a moment, a shadow of the joy she saw in the Marceil’s face.

What would it be like to love another so deeply? So completely? What would it be like to be loved like that in return? Men aplenty had professed love for her over the years. Yet not a one had ever looked at her with the devotion she saw in Charlie’s eyes every single time he gazed at Tarrys. In her experience, few Esri ever loved like that.

As they drove in silence, Ilaria watched out the window, fascinated and not a little awed by the sheer magnitude of the humans’ dominance over their world. As in Reykjavik, buildings rose high above her head, flowing in every direction, as far as her eyes could see. There were subtle differences between the two cities—Reykjavik’s buildings appeared more colorful to her untrained eye, Washington’s more artistically decorative. But both were so far beyond anything she’d ever seen, as to be nearly indistinguishable.

Beside the buildings, the few people that walked were bundled beneath so many layers of hats and coats that she could barely see them. Most traveled in conveyances such as the one they rode in now. Her hand caressed the soft leather seat. A place of surprising warmth and comfort.

As Harrison stopped at an intersection, Ilaria glanced out her window to find the male in the vehicle next to them staring at her. As she met his curious gaze, he turned away.

“Do you ever use glamour?” Harrison asked.

She turned to meet his own curious gaze. “No.”

“Most of your kind do.”

“I’m the princess.”

“What difference does that make? You’re used to people staring?”

She glanced forward as the car started moving again. “In the old days, the only Esri who used glamour on the humans were those who meant them harm.”

“And you didn’t.”

“No.”

Harrison was quiet for a couple of minutes as he drove. When he once more came to a stop at a light, he glanced at her. “At one time, I assumed the Esri always meant humans harm, but I guess I know better than that. Kade’s parents apparently lived in a village where Esri and humans lived together. Mostly mated pairs and families, from what we’ve gathered.”

She glanced at him. “Those Esri who see humans as little more than animals either have had no contact with your kind except for the enchanted unfortunates brought into Esria as slaves, or they’ve never taken the time to speak to humans without enchanting them. That’s not to say the other Esri treated your people well. Most still took advantage of our ability to enchant your race. But not all. There were always Esri who took it upon themselves to befriend and protect the humans. Often they were mistaken for angels.”

Harrison shot her a disbelieving look. “Angels?”

Ilaria lifted an imperious brow. “We’re not all the monsters you believe us to be.”

He didn’t answer, but his distrust hung thickly in the air.

They fell into a disquieting silence until Harrison pressed a button and music of a kind similar to what she’d heard through the headphones filled the small interior of the car. She felt as if her senses were under attack by an exciting, heady assault—the amazing sights that surrounded her, the sound of the pulse-pounding music, the rumble of the engine beneath her. And the scent of warm, intriguing male. She found herself smiling as excitement and pleasure set up a quick tattoo in her pulse. She’d always loved the new and the different, which was why she’d often visited the human realm. If not for Rith, she might stay here awhile. Perhaps a long while. But she had no time to visit, no time to explore this strange world. Not with so much at stake.

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