Warrior Rising. Pamela PalmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
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,