Warrior Rising (Harlequin Nocturne) Read online

  Charlie swore. “So we’re out here twiddling our thumbs for nothing.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. One or more Esri may have suspected Ilaria would be able to sense their whereabouts now. They may have split up just to throw us off. Ilaria and I are going to try to follow one of the pairs and see where they lead us. If we get lucky, we may stumble upon the king himself.”

  “I’m not sure that’s getting lucky,” Charlie drawled. “If I could be sure Rith wasn’t going to try for the stones on his own, I’d get your back.”

  “I don’t plan to engage him.”

  “I’m pretty sure you weren’t planning to engage the last pair, either. Just…”

  “What?”

  “Don’t lose sight of your mission, big bro. If they kill the princess, it’s all over.”

  Harrison’s gaze swept to her, his eyes unreadable. “They’re not going to touch her.”

  Again, that pause. “Be careful, Harrison.”

  “You, too.” Harrison shoved the phone back into his pocket. “Let’s get that sucker.” Determination and a hint of a smile lit his eyes.

  Ilaria smiled, her chest filling with that wonderful warmth. “I agree. Starting with the two nearby.” Turning inward, she sought them out. “That way, I think.” She pointed to the left. “I can’t be sure.”

  “Are either of these two the one you’re trying to find?”

  “I don’t know. I feel only life forces now. The emotions have faded.”

  “Then how are you going to know him?”

  “I don’t know. I’m hoping I’ll be able to tell once we’re closer. Trust me. At least, now that I can sense them, we won’t be surprised like we were last time.”

  “At least that’s something.” He squeezed her hand and headed left, as she’d indicated.

  Harrison led the way this time, and she let him, knowing beyond a doubt she didn’t want to see that fire again. They’d walked for several blocks when he came to a sudden stop, then pulled her behind the abandoned wreckage of a small blue pickup truck.

  “Found them.”

  She peered around him. Halfway up the block, between another pair of buildings, stood two Esri males in silver tunics. Both were in profile facing a woman with her back pressed to the brick wall.

  One Esri she didn’t recognize. He’d likely come of age during the past three hundred years. But the other, with his high cheekbones and short-cropped curly white hair, she would know anywhere. Findris. He’d been a royal guard for eons, since long before she was born. As a child, he’d been the only one of the silent guard to wink at her or slip her treats when no one was looking. He’d been kind to her when most of the court, her mother included, ignored her.

  Though she hadn’t seen him in centuries, since long before her mother’s death and her own incarceration, seeing him now squeezed her heart with homesickness for a different time, a different life.

  Was he the one whose joy she’d felt? Yes. She felt almost certain he was. But whether that old friendship superseded his loyalty to his king was anyone’s guess. She had grave doubts that it would. Findris was a good man, she believed that, but through fair means or foul, Rith appeared to have stirred a powerful loyalty in his guards.

  She didn’t think Findris would try to hand her over to Rith like Luciar had, but she couldn’t be certain.

  Either way, she had to know. Because Findris was a stone scenter and in the past, Esri with such a gift were often able to call strong magic from the stones. Nothing compared to a true Caller, like Rith, but enough, perhaps, to open the gates before the full moon.

  If it turned out he was loyal to her, Findris could be a powerful ally indeed.

  Harrison tensed beside her. “They’re going to rape her.”

  She realized he hadn’t seen the woman until that moment. But even as he said the words, the pair turned away, giving Ilaria a good look at their faces. And their eyes. From this distance, Findris’s were indistinct. He wasn’t the one who’d taken the woman. No, it was his companion whose eyes still glowed.

  “It’s already done.”

  Beside her, Harrison swore low and violently. “Please tell me that bastard isn’t the one you’re looking for because I’m going to kill him.” The line of his jaw had turned hard as granite.

  “No, he’s not the one I’m looking for, but neither are you going to kill him.”

  “Is either one King Rith?”

  “No.”

  “Is the other the one you’re searching for?”

  “No.” The lie tripped easily off her tongue. She had to find a way to discover her old friend’s loyalty without endangering either him or Harrison. Which meant getting him alone somehow.

  Beside her, Harrison’s fury throbbed, thick and palpable, and she sensed he was a heartbeat away from attacking the two in retribution. She couldn’t blame him. Many among her people held a shocking disregard for human life and few, if any, for a woman’s virtue.

  Her fingers laced tightly with his. “Calm, my fierce friend. She wasn’t harmed.”

  “She was raped.”

  “He enchanted her, making her feel extreme desire before he touched her. An Esri male cannot take an unready female. She likely felt only pleasure and won’t remember any of it.”

  His gaze swung to her, his eyes burning. “And that’s supposed to make it all right?”

  Her stomach clenched at the raw anger directed at her and she pulled her hand from his, taking a step away. “No. I’m only saying she wasn’t harmed. Not physically, at least. Our ways are not yours, Harrison. If I ever claim the throne, I’ll do what I can to change our dealings with the humans.”

  “If you seal the gates, there won’t be any need. No Esri monster will ever be able to reach us again.”

  His words stung and she turned away. He had a right to his anger and it served as a sharp reminder that although they had developed some kind of errant connection, they were of two peoples, of two worlds. Worlds destined to always be at odds.

  She hated to use the word enemies, yet perhaps that’s what they were and would always be, on some level.

  “Ilaria.” His voice was soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry. I don’t blame you.” His hand cupped her shoulder. “None of this is your fault.”

  The gentle contrition in his tone made her want to weep. She turned slowly toward him, wishing she could give him what he wanted—those gates sealed for eternity so that no human ever had to suffer from Esri enchantment again. But that was the one thing she could never do.

  His gaze flicked up and behind her. “They’re leaving.” His expression tightened. “What now? Let them go and keep searching for the one you’re looking for, or follow these two and see where they lead us?”

  Ilaria frowned, her own gaze turning to Findris and the other Esri as they started down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, ambling as if they had no destination.

  A fluttering of panic gripped her at the sight of her old friend walking away. She had to speak to him alone, to test his loyalty and to discuss her true goal with him. To find out if he could help her.

  And how in the two worlds was she going to get away from Harrison long enough to do that?

  Her mother had possessed the ability to communicate telepathically when she chose. A gift that was said to have been bestowed upon her by the draggon stone. Mightn’t her daughter have been given the same gift?

  Ilaria’s pulse tripped with a hopeful excitement. There was only one way to find out.

  Findris. She called to him, directing her thoughts toward that glow she could almost see in her head, a glow she knew was his.

  To her delight and amazement, Findris stopped in his tracks and looked around. Delight quickly turned to fear as Harrison pulled her behind him. She was going to ruin everything! With desperation, she threw a blast of emotion to that warm dot of light in her mind. Secret, secret, secret.

  She saw the other Esri look at Findris questioningly. Findris waved his hand with quick dismissal and conti
nued forward as if his rightful queen hadn’t just spoken in his head.

  Her heart pounded, her muscles turning weak. He’d understood. She felt certain of it.

  I must speak with you in private. Tonight. Somehow she knew she wasn’t communicating in words, but instead conveying meaning. Where could she tell him to meet her? She didn’t even know where she’d be.

  I’ll follow you. No words sounded in her head, but his meaning slid warm and comforting around her mind. My loyalty is yours.

  She believed him. And yet, if he was still the good man she remembered, why was he among Rith’s most trusted?

  His thoughts continued to slide through her mind. Call to me when you’re ready and I’ll come to you.

  To help her? Or to capture her for his king? Her heart told her the former, yet she’d be a fool not to approach him with a healthy dose of suspicion.

  At least she’d get her meeting with him.

  Not once had he looked her way, yet she felt certain he knew exactly where she was. If she asked him to come to her now, he’d move toward her unerringly. All the more reason to get Harrison on another path, before a confrontation occurred that ruined everything and endangered both men.

  “I feel him,” she lied, attempting to insert the proper note of excitement into her voice. “The one who’s loyal.” Harrison looked at her with question and she shook her head. “Not one of these. He’s in that direction.” She motioned back and left, away from Findris.

  “I’d rather follow these two.”

  “You’d rather kill these two.”

  “True. All right. Let’s follow that internal GPS of yours and find this guy.”

  It took her a moment to process the GPS comment, but quickly realized it was a mild attempt at humor. Together, they crossed the street. Just before they slid around the corner, out of sight of Findris and his companion, she looked back. At that very moment, Findris turned. Their gazes collided. Despite the distance, she felt the flare of his emotion. Elation. Relief.

  Loyalty.

  Unless she was badly mistaken, Findris would help her if he could. How, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she had to talk to him without Harrison knowing.

  Chapter 11

  The cold wind had risen, lifting dead leaves to tumble end over end along the sidewalk where he and Ilaria walked. Harrison felt that same tumbling sensation inside himself, his thoughts and emotions a jumbled, spinning mess. Among them, fury and hatred of the Esri. Good God, he’d watched them walk away from raping a woman. It frustrated him to no end that Ilaria just accepted it. Yet, he’d seen with his own eyes that the woman hadn’t seemed to be hurt. And she wouldn’t remember. Still, that didn’t excuse the fact that she’d been assaulted!

  Never had his sense of right and wrong been so confused. Life had been so much simpler when he’d believed all Esri were evil. Ilaria’s hand tucked warmly within his, he lifted his free hand to his chest, rubbing at the ache that he’d felt bloom there as he’d watched Ilaria smiling at the little girl she’d carried from the damaged minivan. Or had the ache started earlier, when he and Ilaria had first kissed? Hell, he didn’t know. All he knew was it had grown to a full-fledged pain.

  She looked tired to him, faint bruises beneath her eyes, shadows within them even though outwardly she appeared to have shaken off the effects of seeing that apartment fire. But though she once more walked with confidence, her expression certain, he sensed her lingering unease. They both knew they’d probably come upon other fires before this day was over. And other Esri. The need to protect her felt like a tight band around his chest.

  His gaze moved from one side of the street to the other, passing quickly over the groups of people who watched emergency crews trying to pry two vehicles apart from one another. But his interest wasn’t in the humans or the wreckage. He was searching for Esri. He didn’t like being out in the open like this. Though he’d convinced Ilaria to use glamour on the humans and wear a poncho to hide from the Esri, his senses remained on full alert, his muscles tense and ready to protect her from anything…or anyone.

  His arms ached with the need to hold her and never let her go. In a matter of weeks, as soon as those gates opened again, she’d be gone. Lost to him forever.

  How he would love to spend more time with her, showing her around his city, his world. Simple things. Taking her to a movie. Taking her to meet his kids.

  That old pain twisted inside him. Stephie. Ilaria would heal her, he had to believe it. Would his daughter look at Ilaria with the same adoration the other little girl had? A real fairy princess. Yeah, she would. He knew she would. Sam would be curious about Ilaria, of course, but unless she knew how to throw a baseball or play video games, she wouldn’t hold his interest for long. Stephie would chatter Ilaria’s ear off with a thousand questions. And Ilaria would answer every one.

  If only things could be different. If only he could have more time with this remarkable woman. When she’d come into her power, when their gazes had caught, he’d felt those impossibly green eyes pull him headlong into their endless depths. When he was with her, he felt no loneliness. Hell, he hadn’t even realized he was lonely, not until Ilaria had blown into his life and climbed inside him, creating a glowing warmth that filled him as if embracing him from the inside out. How could he ever be cold with her warm glow pulsing inside his chest?

  He glanced at her, at the tension in her lovely face, and just wanted to get her out of here. Someplace safe. They’d head north, in the direction of Adams Morgan and Charlie’s apartment. If they hadn’t seen any Esri by the time they left the disaster zone, he was finding a cab and getting her off the streets. Maybe then he could breathe freely again.

  Who was he kidding? They’d be alone together in an apartment with a bed. He’d be lucky if he remembered to breathe at all.

  He needed to keep his hands off her. That was the smartest thing to do, on so many levels. Because he was already too drawn to her. He already wanted her too much, and not just to make love to. Still, that would be a huge mistake. His survival depended on keeping some distance between them. The survival of his heart.

  He slid his hand beneath her hood, beneath that thick fall of curls, and cupped the back of her neck, feeling the cords of tension beneath his fingers. She melted into his touch with a sigh, her head tilting toward him. Knowing she was immortal, he tended to think of her as indestructible. But she was still a living, breathing being. A woman in need of food and sleep. And safety.

  “This isn’t working.” Ilaria pushed back her hood, her pale hair like the finest ivory silk, framing a face of alabaster perfection.

  He sent her a questioning look. “I take it there are no Esri nearby?”

  “No. None. I can sense them, but I don’t seem to be able to follow them.” Her words spoke of disappointment, but her tone was flat. Exhausted.

  “Some of them could be in cars or other vehicles.” He kneaded the tight cords in her neck. “Why don’t we work our way to Charlie’s apartment, get some dinner and some sleep? It’ll be dark soon and we’re both exhausted.”

  She glanced at him, a warm gleam entering her eyes that told him she was thinking of that damn bed, too. His body heated, despite the cold, hardening.

  Screw the future.

  Tonight, Ilaria was his.

  * * *

  An hour and a half later, Harrison pushed open the door to Charlie’s apartment in Adams Morgan, a pair of white bags in one hand—Chinese food, he called it. But despite the delicious smell, Ilaria’s hunger had little to do with food. Apparently, Harrison felt the same. One moment, she was walking into the apartment, Harrison kicking the door closed behind them. The next she was in his arms, his mouth plundering hers, his hands in her hair and sliding over her hips. What happened to their dinner, she didn’t know and didn’t care.

  His hands were at once rough and gentle as he grasped her buttocks and hauled her body tight against his. His hard, thick erection pressed against her abdomen. His warm lips brushed hers
as his tongue thrust inside her mouth.

  She curved her arms around his waist and held on as his scent, his taste, his barely controlled passion swept her into a storm, a wildness she’d never known. And she hungered.

  Moving back an inch, she slid her fingers to his shirt and began yanking at the buttons, desperate to feel his flesh beneath her palms, desperate to taste his skin. The passion caught her up, flinging her free until her breaths were short and ragged, her heart pounding an unsteady, jubilant rhythm.

  Harrison pulled away, yanked his shirt from his waistband, pulled it off over his head and tossed the garment to the floor. His white undershirt followed a moment later. Ilaria stepped forward, running her hands over the warm, hard planes of his magnificent chest, the light furring of hair tickling her palms.

  “You’re beautiful,” she breathed.

  With a low growl, his hands grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of her gown and pulling upward, lifting her dress until she felt a draft of cool air against her calves, rising to her knees, then her thighs.

  His hands gripped her bare hips. One hand slid to the front, probing between her legs, urging her to widen her stance, which she did gladly. His hand slid fully between, a single finger sliding deep inside of her.

  Ilaria moaned, gripping his waist to keep herself standing as that finger thrust deeper, retreated, then thrust deep again.

  She pressed her mouth to his chest and his shoulder, moaning with pure pleasure.

  “Take off your dress,” he said against her hair. “I have to see you, Ilaria. I have to touch you.”

  His words weakened her knees. She reached behind her, pulling the ties that laced up the back of her dress and hung at the base of her spine.

  “Loosen them for me,” she said, turning so that her back was to him and pulling her hair over one shoulder to get it out of his way.

  She could feel his fingers stroking the flesh of her back as he did as she asked, each brush a teasing whisper of promise. With careful hands, he pushed the fabric over her shoulders until the bodice fell, leaving her gowned only from the waist down.