Warrior Rising. Pamela Palmer

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СКАЧАТЬ 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, СКАЧАТЬ