Georgia Lyn Hunter's Blog

Outsmarted – A Fallen Guardian’s short story

This is Týr and Kira’s slice-of-life story, exploring the daily lives of my Guardians.
Týr is a fallen god from the Norse pantheon now mated to Kira.
This scene takes place after Nik’s book.
Enjoy a peep into their lives after the HEA…

 

 

~OUTSMARTED~

 

 

The castle was too damn quiet.

Not a single peep from the often chattering females who lived there, or even his mate, and Kira usually led the pack.

Týr stuck his head into the TV room where the mates of his Guardian brothers often hung out, and still no sign of her. Not that he could blame her. He’d been swamped with things to do right from the moment he’d gotten up this morning, and he’d only caught glimpses of her in passing.

Kira? he telepathed.

Hey, honey, she responded instantly.

Where are you?

Busy with the girls; talk later. And she shut off their mind link. Dammit.

“Yo, Norse, what’s up?”

He closed the door and turned to find Aethan approaching from the back stairwell, something odd going on with his hair. As he drew closer, Týr snorted. All that blue was scraped back into a braid, with a few strands escaping. Hell, a perfect moment to vex him, but he had other, more pressing things on his mind. “Kira. I haven’t seen her all day, and now she’s”—he shook his head—“busy.”

“Ah, she’s finally seen the light.” Aethan smirked.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t laugh when looking like a girl in braids.”

The Empyrean’s annoying grin grew wider. “At least I got laid before it was done. It doesn’t make me any less of a bastard.”

“I don’t see how. The demoniis will die laughing when faced with you tonight,” Týr shot back and strode down the corridor, determined to find his suddenly cloistered mate.

“Wait up.” Aethan joined him. “So why are you hunting Kira?”

Frowning, Týr slipped his hands in his jeans pockets. “It’s been a year since we mated—well, almost a year, and I got her something to mark it. If I could just get a hold of her for five darn minutes.”

Aethan’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Yes, really, you uncultured bastard. I got my girl a gift.”

“Rrright! I don’t suppose that gift has anything to do with the rumor circulating, you know, about you not being romantic enough?”

Fucking pain in his ass. Týr narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t talk. You didn’t even know what to get Echo for her birthday.”

“And you suggested a dagger. Did you get Kira one?” His eyes gleamed with merriment.

The bastard was enjoying this. “No, I learned from your mistake,” he retorted and slowed at the soft voices drifting to him from the library, the females’ other hangout.

“…I would say tie a bow,” Darci murmured. “None can beat that, a definite win for you.”

Frowning, Týr opened the door. They were all there at the far side of the massive book room, seated on the floor around the coffee table littered with snacks and drinks and hooting with laughter.

Tie a bow?

Fates, what was Kira up to? Because he knew darn well she would also be hunting for something to celebrate their upcoming ‘first anniversary,’ too.

A grin started. Oh, my mate, you can try! I so got this. Not romantic? His left nut.

I can’t wait to see how this turns out, Aethan telepathed him. Kira is ace in what she does.

Meaning she was more…thoughtful? Romantic?

Týr ignored the jibe, waiting for his mate to notice him.

***

Five minutes earlier…

“And you told him he wasn’t romantic enough?” Echo asked, leaning her elbows on the coffee table edge, the rest of the wooden surface covered with plates of sandwiches, cookies, and their beverages, her face cupped in her hands.

“Yup.” Kira nodded, absently surveying the fire crackling merrily in the spacious library they’d secluded in, then drifting to the soaring floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. She knew Týr would head straight here when he didn’t find her in the kitchen or TV room after telepathing her. “How else would I throw him off track with what I planned, huh?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “It took me days to get this going without him suspecting a thing.”

“And while he’s busy trying to figure out ways to outdo you in this romance quest—and you know he will,” Darci said—ugh, didn’t she just? The betting games between Týr and Blaéz were notorious, neither giving any leeway. “He wouldn’t suspect a thing.”

“Yep.” She glanced at the other women as the sensation of her mate coming closer grew stronger.

“Why not a bow in your hair, minus clothes?” Shadow, seated on the armchair, piped out with a smile, her hand on her pregnant belly.

“Yes!” Darci nodded gleefully, tendrils loosening from her careless topknot to frame her striking face. “I would say tie a bow.” Her eyes gleamed with mirth. “None can beat that, a definite win for you.”

The girls howled with laughter.

Kira bit her lip, stifling her grin. Naked and a bow in her hair? It had potential. All she wanted was to throw him off-scent. That man was like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out the truth. It made her more determined than ever to keep this secret.

But, just in case he could hear her with that maddening heightened senses of his, she said, “Do you guys have that problem? Your mates not being romantic?”

“Not me,” Ely smirked, wrapping her arms around her jeans-clad knee. “I’m safe from all that.”

Shae leaned back against the couch, her gray-gold eyes brightening with laughter as she latched on to what Kira was about, but she didn’t say anything, not that Kira needed an answer.

“Hmm,” Shadow began, gently rubbing her baby bump, concealed by her loose red sweater with scattered snowflakes. “Can’t say I have. Nik’s always doing stuff for me, bringing me presents and such.”

“Gah, seriously?” Kira grumbled. “But you’re pregnant; we all spoil you; you don’t get a say in this.”

Shadow burst out laughing, sweeping back her raven-dark hair with the white streak at the front.

“Well,” Darci began.

“No, not you. I saw Blaéz get you flowers then suck your face off—so just me then.” Meeting their confused gazes, she mouthed, They’re back.

We know, they all responded, biting off their grins.

“What exactly do you want, Ki?” Echo asked softly, her spiky bangs dipping into her sparkling, bicolored eyes. She blinked the inky strands away and gamely kept up the pretense as Týr’s presence closed in on her. The girl needed a trim.

Casually, Kira picked up her choc-chip cookie and took a bite. As she chewed, she sighed out loud. “Well, for him to do something romantic without me saying so. Anyway, I’m going shopping tomorrow to drown my sorrow. Hedori said he’d take me—”

“Take you where?” Týr growled, prowling inside, looking a little testy. Aethan remained at the door, and Kira swore he was fighting back a grin. Well, he knew what was up anyway since they were all roped in to help keep her man busy.

“Oh, just some shopping,” she said airily, pushing to her feet. “I saved you a few cookies.”

He shook his head, which startled her. Týr was like an addict on steroids when it came to sweets, and he was refusing cookies? Chocolate-chip cookies, to be exact. His second favorite next to his sacred M&Ms. Guilt surged. But Kira pushed past the feeling since she planned on making it up to him very soon.

She grabbed her cell phone from the coffee table, shooting her friends a look that said, be ready, and headed to her mate. She hooked her arm through his and strolled out of the library, pulling her huge, turtle-slow man with her, passing Aethan, who winked, and she had to stifle a laugh. “C’mon, let’s go watch a movie. We have a few hours before you go on patrol, right? I’ll even let you pick.”

“It’s all right. I know how much you love your romance movies.”

Kira sniffed. “You say it like it’s a bad thing—”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, tone terse.

“Okay then, it’s romantic comedy tonight,” she pushed, trying to get a response. Though nothing showed on his face, she could feel his disquiet through their mate bond.

Her cell beeped, but she ignored it as they entered the living room, where the TV was still on mute.

Only when Týr dropped onto the couch did she hastily glance at her text message from Hedori. Ten minutes.

Thank God. She tossed her cell on the couch, grabbed the remote, and selected Die Hard since he seemed to enjoy that. Then she sat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Týr’s calloused palm sought hers, and he linked their fingers. “Is something wrong, elska?” he asked quietly.

Jesus. When he called her that, her heart went all gooey and melted in a puddle of love that she nearly blurted the truth. Darn. It was a close one.

Kira lifted her gaze to his, frowning. “Why would you ask that?”

“I heard you.”

She blinked. “What are you talking about?”

He nodded in the direction of the library, remaining silent.

“Oh. Don’t worry about it.” She gave him a warm smile as her brain rapidly sought an excuse. “Was in a funky mood, you know, PMS and stuff?” Since he knew about that, she was safe. But darn, seeing her usually smiling mate troubled, Kira knew she couldn’t sit back and wait for the next five minutes. They’ll just do this early—

“Eeep!” she squealed as he scooped her up and settled her on his lap. “Are you okay?” He swept back her hair. “Do you need anything?” That gorgeous face was all serious now. Yep, her well-being always came first with him.

Kira cupped his stubbled jaw with one hand, her thumb stroking his chin. “Being here with you is what makes me happy.”

He stared at her as if debating her comment. Nope, she couldn’t blame him with all her evasion tactics today. She reached for her cell on the couch, and the display lit up. Two minutes left. She got off his lap. “C’mon.”

“I thought you wanted to watch a movie?”

“I put it on for you, but you don’t seem in the mood. Let’s go for a walk.”

He frowned. “It’s snowing.”

“So?”

“You don’t like the cold.”

“And in summer, I don’t like the heat, but that’s me.” She grinned. “Besides, I have you, my own personal heater—” She snuggled into his chest. “So, I’m not worried about being chilly.”

They headed down the long corridor, and she felt his stare but ignored it as they passed the rec room, then more doors, all from which they could access the outside.

“Any particular exit you’re looking for?” he drawled. “Probably one to the stars?”

“What?”

“Kira…” He stopped, his expression inflexible now. “What is it? And don’t say it’s nothing.”

She looked at him, licked her lips, glanced down the long corridor, then back to him. Whispered, “Fine. There is something, but not out here where someone could hear us.”

***

At her words, Týr’s heart careened in his chest like a ping pong ball. Maybe something was drastically wrong after all. Kira opened the door into a darkened room and shut it. As he reached for the light switch, the sudden glare of the overhead lights had his corneas going on strike. Dammit, he blinked—

“Surprise!”

At the yell, he blinked in confusion. All his Guardian brothers and their mates, along with Jenna, Ely, and Hedori, were there, grinning at him. What the hell? Why were they here in this rarely used dining room with no sign of the table and the chairs all pushed against the walls?

Then they parted, revealing the dining table behind them, draped with a white damask linen cloth. White flowers with greenery in twin pewter vases graced each side, but it was the centerpiece that caught his attention.

A two-tier chocolate cake, with a ton of M&Ms cascading like a river from the top layer to the bigger, bottom one, it all flowed onto the stand in a flood of rainbow colors.

“What is this?” he rasped.

“Happy birthday, my love!” Kira grinned, sliding her arms around his waist and hugging him.

He blinked. “It’s not my birthday. That’s in summer.”

“So? It’s summer in the southern hemisphere. And I decided it’s your birthday today. Next year, it’ll be, well, whenever my mood decides.” She gave him an impish grin.

Týr stood there, overwhelmed. In his long life, nothing of this ever happened. No one had made his day of birth ever feel special. His past hadn’t included much joy. But his mate, she found ways to make it so for him.

“C’mon!” She grabbed his hand.

Too shocked to say or do anything, he let her lead him to the table. On the sideboard were champagne bottles cooling in ice buckets, along with sodas, juices, and a row of crystal flutes.

His attention came back to Kira, and his gaze caressed her gorgeous, flushed face. She tucked back her springy auburn hair free tumbling about her shoulders, picked up the three candles near the cake in red, blue, and green, and stuck them into the top tier.

“Only three?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t put thousands of candles on it, it would take forever, and I’d need a cake as big as this room, so three it is. And those symbolize the past, present, and future.” She lit the candles, and everyone burst into the birthday song, even his Guardian brothers. Their mates must have drilled them to learn the words. Then he caught Aethan’s smirk.

The bastard knew. No wonder he’d goaded him earlier. And he’d lost the braid. Pity.

Yup, I did. We all did. Kira asked us to keep it quiet, Aethan telepathed him.

Now, it all meshed. That’s why Dagan had dragged him off for a sword session the moment he came downstairs that morning, then Blaéz and the foos-damn-ball game bet, which he never said no to—hell, she’d managed his entire day smoothly. And he hadn’t known shit because it wasn’t unusual for him to be so busy…except, since Kira came into his life, he didn’t spend so much time doing all that stuff.

He huffed out a laugh. “Is this what you were planning all along?”

She grinned and nodded.

Hell, she’d completely derailed him. She’d outsmarted him.

As the song ended, Aethan called out, “Hip, hip—”

“Hurray!”

Their voices thundered in the dining room, reverberating off the walls.

“Yep,” she finally answered. “You’re too astute at times for my liking. I had to throw you off course.” She handed him a serrated bread knife with a white bow. “Blow out the candles, make a wish, and cut the cake.”

He cast her a tender look. “My wish already came true a year ago.”

“You’re not supposed to say, but I guess it doesn’t matter,” she grumbled as he smirked and sliced the cake with one swipe—

“Jesus, it’s not an enemy,” she sighed.

“It’s done. Now we get to eat it—”

“No, wait.” She grasped his hand, stopping him.

He arched a brow, then watched as she took over, cutting the part he sliced free. He knew she must have made the cake. It had all the signs of her handiwork, the uneven smoothing of chocolate, the slightly tippy lower layer—hell, he loved her for it. And at the added M&Ms since she often enough filched his candies if he happened to be eating them, his heart bumped hard against his ribs, emotions clogging his throat.

“You get the first taste.” Kira lifted the piece to him. He bit half of it and groaned. Fuck, his female sure could bake. After watching him demolish the large bite he took, she smiled and popped the remaining piece into her mouth. His mate went from not knowing anything about cooking a year ago to this. Hell, he was too darn happy—

He hauled her into his arms and kissed her hard. “Best cake ever.”

Her eyes sparkling, she then cut up the cake for everyone.

“A toast!” Blaéz called out, popping the champagne. The cork hit the ceiling, leaving a spot in the pristine whiteness before Dagan flashed out his hand, and with his telekinesis, the trajectory slammed his way, and he palmed the dangerous missile.

Blaéz nodded, then poured the bubbly liquid into glasses, handing them out.

“Seems I made it just in time,” Michael walked in, dressed in his leathers and black tee, his aviator sunnies parked on his head. His splintered sapphire blue eyes, revealing streaks of flashing silver, met Týr’s. He inclined his head in greeting—no, in a birthday wish, more likely.

“You missed the cake attack,” Blaéz supplied, making Týr snort.

The archangel smirked. “Expected no less from a warrior.”

Once everyone had the flutes in hand, Blaéz said, “Týr, may the Fates always watch out for you.”

“Hear, hear!” the females called out, followed by his Guardian brothers.

Hell, the Fates should watch out for all of them, but this was about him, so he let it slide. But damn, these fuckers made him want to bawl.

“Always,” Kira said softly, slipping her hand to his back and stroking his spine. “Nik!” she called out a second later, distracting him. “This is for the baby!” She held out the side plate with cake and a fork.

The Greek came over, sweeping back his overlong hair. “Our young isn’t even here yet.”

“Shadow will eat it for the baby. See? Simple.” She cast him a dimpled grin.

Smiling and shaking his head, he took the side plate with a thick slice for his mate.

Echo and Darci hurried forward, helping her hand out the wedges.

A short while later, as everyone ate cake and drank champagne, Hedori announced, “The birthday dinner will be in the kitchen in an hour.”

“So, all this is your doing?” Týr asked Kira as she joined him on the window seat.

She nodded and sipped her champagne, pilfering little bites of cake from his plate. “Well, I helped with the menu and prepping stuff, but the cooking was all Hedori. Besides the cake.”

“I know. I love it.”

As everyone headed out, probably to give them time alone, Týr remained sprawled on the window seat, leaning his back against the glass pane.

Michael headed for the door, then glanced his way and nodded. You can get in at midnight for work.

Týr inclined his head slightly, grateful for a bit of time off.

Kira rose and set the empty glasses and plates on the table. “Don’t you want to join the others for dinner?” she asked, arching a feminine eyebrow as she came back and sat next to him. “It’s in your honor.”

“There’s still time.”

When it was just the two of them in the dining room, he rose, fished around in his pocket, and she eyed him curiously. Then he crouched in front of her. “This is for you.” He handed her the small box.

As she opened it, her mouth dropped, forming an O, then snapped shut as she stared. “Týr, this past year with you has been amazing. I was only teasing you about being unromantic…” She swallowed, her eyes gone a misty hazel.

And he realized then it wasn’t even about the competition when it came to her. It was her smiles he wanted.

“Perhaps, but this I wanted and was waiting for December to give it to you. But since you brought it up a month early, I decided, why not. And I quite like the symbolism of this one.” He took the eternity ring studded with diamonds and slipped it on her finger. “Because you are my eternity.”

She blinked her teary eyes and put her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “I love it—I love you.”

“I love you, too, elska. So damn much,” he murmured, kissing her. He picked her up and dematerialized them to their bedroom. Dusk crept into the room, lengthening the gloom. With his mind, he willed on the soft sconce wall lights and set her on her feet. And cocked an eyebrow. “So, about this bow Darci mentioned. Where is it?”

She bit her lip, a streak of red brightening her gorgeous face.

“Wait here.” She pivoted and sprinted for the dressing room.

Anticipation stirring, he wandered to the window and watched the snowflakes flutter to the ground. Minutes passed…

Then soft footsteps sounded, followed by a deep inhale of breath as if composing herself.

Týr turned and nearly swallowed his tongue.

Kira stood in the doorway of the backlit dressing room, naked, a white bow holding up her curly, auburn locks in a ponytail.

She waved her hand over herself, her ring glinting in the soft light. “Here it is.”

Blood thundered in his ears as he prowled over. Desire rushed down his body, settling in his groin. He scooped her up and pressed his mouth to hers in a heated kiss.

You win, elska, he mind-linked with her. As far as gifts go, nothing beats this.

Her laughter echoed in his head, the sound filling his heart. He only let her mouth go when he set her on the bed.

This female.

Yeah, he’d go to Hell for her again…

“I heard that.” She sat up, her expression tender, her eyes glowing like gemstones. “My sire lives in Stygia, not Hell.”

He shrugged, didn’t care for specifics.

A playful smirk curved her mouth. “And yup, score to me!”

He snorted and sat on the bed to remove his boots. Her expression sobered as she stroked back the hunk of hair falling to his brow. “I couldn’t do your birthday as I wanted back in summer because, well, you know, with Nik and Shadow and everything that happened.”

“I know.” He kissed her jaw, sliding his mouth back to hers, dragging her thoughts away from that dark, painful period of losing Nik, and she sighed.

“Since it’s my birthday…” His gaze lifted to her head. “It’s time to unwrap my present.”

“Unwrap, what?” She rolled her eyes, waving a hand over her naked, seductive curves that had his body winding tight, his cock gone rock-hard with need.

Still, he took his time untying the bow from her mane, and her curls fell to her shoulders in a silky cascade. “Now you’re naked.”

She laughed, wrapped his long hair in her fist, and kissed him. “Happy birthday, my love.”

And it was.

He pushed her back onto the mattress and didn’t care he didn’t know the exact date or month he took his first breath, but his mate, so human in her outlook on life, made every new day something to look forward to. He couldn’t wait for whatever or wherever life took them as long as he had her with him.

 

 

THE END…for now.

© Georgia Lyn Hunter

New Release: Resonance Unearthed – Warlord’s of Empyrea #4

 

NOW OUT! The next book in the Warlords of Empyrea series.Aerén’s story is finally here!

 

Cover artist,  Montana Jade

 

BLURB:

A lost magic. A rebel prince. And the woman who will bring a kingdom to its knees…

 Prince Aerén’s determined to find the Chosen possessing the lost magic of Empyrea and save his beloved realm and people. On the streets of New York, he believes he’s found the one he seeks… If only the magic had chosen a less stubborn and enticing woman.

Leya just wants to save her family nursery from bankruptcy, not play make-believe with a gorgeous stranger, spouting fanciful tales. When they’re attacked, and Aerén hauls her to his mystical home, her mundane problems turn supernatural—the frustrating yet sinfully sexy man thinks she possesses the blood magic his world needs to survive.

But even bigger challenges torment Leya in Empyrea… ghosts, premonitions, and a forbidden attraction between her and the prince that threatens both her heart and his legacy. Unless Leya discovers the source of her nightmares, the man and world she’s coming to love will both pay the ultimate price…

 

A 120k+ slow burn, forbidden romance with a snarky possessive hero!

 

US:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CLL21VHB

UK:  https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CLL21VHB

CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0CLL21VHB

AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0CLL21VHB

 

Beyond Destiny: Deleted Chapter

This chapter was originally between what’s now 27 and 28

 

After Ely and Nate meet up in the Dark Realm. It didn’t make the cut, well, because the book was already too long, and I thought, as did my editor, it disrupted the flow and tension of the story. It’s from Týr’s POV after the Guardians discover Ely is missingSo some of it might sound familiar that’s because I used parts of it later on.

*PLEASE, NO SPOILERS

 

 

Deleted Chapter

 

“Still nothing?” Michael asked, his fists braced on his desk, his expression grim.

Týr shook his head, shoving his clenched hands into his pants pockets so he wouldn’t punch something in the Arc’s study.

“I tracked her to the mountain cavern she used in the Catskills,” Blaéz said, rubbing his temple. “Empty.”

Dagan nodded. “Even the ones in the Adirondacks.”

Dammit. Týr paced to the door and back again. Ely was like a sister to him. Now she was missing! This was all his fault. He’d caused this chain reaction to happen when he first let her stay at the castle instead of sending her back to Empyrea like Aethan had demanded, ending with Michael taking her on as a Guardian.

“We should talk to Aba,” Nik said.

At the mention of the old demon who cared for Shadow, and that asshole… Tyr’s eyes narrowed. “If that demon, Nate, is responsible for her disappearance, I will kill him.”

“Norse.” Blaéz grasped his arm, blue eyes steady, irritating Týr further. “Calm down. Just because we haven’t seen her abilities, it doesn’t mean she is helpless. She is a Guardian.”

“Did you see anything?” he demanded.

“She’s safe wherever she is if it’s what you’re asking—”

“It fucking tells me nothing!”

“This isn’t helping,” Michael growled. “It’s been nearly a week!”

A knock sounded on the study door, and it opened, revealing his mate and Shadow.

“Hey,” Kira said as they stepped inside, shoving back an escapee strand of her curly hair, something she rarely did. Shadow glanced at Nik, but she remained at Kira’s side.

“What is it, Kira?” Týr asked.

They both stood like militant soldiers near the Arc’s L-shape desk, then his mate took a deep breath—

And he knew.

Nik’s weary exhale spoke volumes.

Hell, these females were thick as thieves.

“Kira,” Michael said, calm as all hell. “Where is Ely?”

“You can’t get mad,” she said, her gaze sweeping over them. “She’s our friend, and we will protect her.”

More like keep her secrets.

Gods! His female.

Týr folded his arms. Waited.

“She met someone,” Kira began. “Shadow’s brother, Nate.”

“And before you say he’s a demon, we know that,” Shadow chipped in. “But he is my brother, too. He’s a good person, well, to those he cares about. And he saved me.”

Nik grunted and rubbed his frontal lobe as if he had a massive headache. “I know. But it still doesn’t tell us where she is.”

Kira cut a quick look at Shadow, who nodded. She glanced back at them. “The Dark Realm—”

“What?” Týr roared, and the others straightened. “She’s in a place where the most atrocious, debased things could happen. She can’t protect herself! She’s a new Guardian who’s barely come into her abilities!”

“She’s not alone,” Shadow said, frowning. “Aba’s with her. He’s an old demon. He rescued me from blood demons who tore out my throat—”

“Dammit,” Nik muttered. “Agápi, calm down,” he said quietly, drawing his pregnant mate close, and cutting Týr a hard look.

Stars! Týr tried to reel in his fear for Ely. This isn’t happening. “How the hell do we find her in that massive place? You should have come to me, Kira.”

“You would have stopped her,” his beloved mate retorted. Then her expression softened. “Honey, if it were you, I would have done the same thing. Ely didn’t want to fail him again.”

Damn. Exhaling deeply, he drew her close, pressing his lips to her hair. “Wait—” He pulled back, frowning. “What do you mean again?”

“I’m not sure, but before she left, she said she won’t leave Nate to a terrible fate and that she failed him once and wouldn’t do so again. She didn’t explain, just said she would when she got back.”

“Where do we start searching?” Dagan asked then, bringing them back to the matter at hand.

“Wrath lives there. Seek out his help,” Michael said, coming around his desk, looking ready to wrap up the meeting and kick some demon ass.

Seek the Sin of Wrath’s help?

Týr bit back a groan. Just great. He found Kira watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, he could probably aid us,” he covered his ass quickly.

“No need,” Shadow said. “I know Aba lived in the territory of Ys. They, er, can open the portal from inside the workshop at the garage to go directly there.”

They all stared at her.

“They’re my family. They aren’t evil,” she muttered defensively. “I won’t let you attack them.”

“It’s all right,” Nik said, stroking her back and cutting them a steely look to reel in any comeback they had.

“Only old, powerful demons can open a portal,” Michael murmured, leaning against his desk. “The rest require a portal summoning stone, and those are guarded by said powerful demons.”

“And just so you know,” Shadow added, her stare gimlet, “Aba and Nate usually take care of those types if they dare to cross over.”

Týr wasn’t surprised. That area in the Bowery was a hotbed for demon activities. It must have ley lines running beneath the grounds or something to draw the fuckers there.

“Well, this helps,” Michael said. “Týr, you and Nik go to Ys. I will take over patrolling your area.”

Since time moved differently in the Dark Realm, hell, they could be gone for days or a few hours. Týr hoped it was the latter.

“Should we let Reynner know?” Nik asked.

“He’s gonna go ballistic,” Michael muttered. “Especially finding out she’s in a place he abhors. Damn…” He strode for the French doors, and they opened at his approach. He glanced back, putting on his aviators again, blocking his splintered irises. “I’ll catch up with him and fill him in later.”

“We’ll see you when we see you,” Dagan said, then both he and Blaéz stepped out onto the terrace and dematerialized.

A hand gently stroked his chest, bringing Týr’s attention back to his mate. He hated the worry darkening her hazel eyes. Hell, he still had issues with going to that world, and his incarceration in Tartarus rushed to the forefront, but he wasn’t leaving Ely there alone.

Now he had to leave his mate for who the hell knew how long, and it had Tyr’s annoyance growing. Oh, he’d find Ely, and then he would plant his fist in the damn demon’s jaw for causing all this trouble!

He cupped her face and gently kissed her, revealing none of his concerns. “I’ve got this, but I havta go, elska.”

“I know. Just be safe.” She hugged him, holding on tight. “Bring Ely back.”

He nodded and followed Nik, who had to drag himself away from Shadow, out onto the study terrace, then shut the French door behind them.

“Let’s do this—” He stilled at a disturbance in the air.

Aethan took form on the terrace, an unconscious Echo in his arms.

Týr didn’t need the light to see her complexion resembled a corpse, not that Aethan’s appeared any better. His hair was unkempt, slipping free from its tether, his shirt ripped and bloodied, sporting bruises on his jaw.

Aethan grimaced. “The Vales of Ishinor—the fae realm was one hell of a fucking place. Glad to be home.”

“No, no…” a low moan escaped Echo. A tear slipped free from her shut eyelids. “Don’t leave me.”

“Never, me’morae. I’m here.” Aethan pressed his lips to her head. Her one hand grasped his shirt feebly and fell again.

“Keta…” a ragged breath escaped her, and it had them all freezing at the strange name. “Finally found you…se agapó, Keta. Se agapó…”

Aethan faltered a step, brow creasing. “Echo? What is it?”

Silence. She remained still in his arms.

“What the hell was that? What she said?” he asked, lifting his churning stare to them.

Týr shrugged, not familiar with the language. The question begged, who the hell was Keta? Some fae she met? It could be why Aethan appeared madder than a hatter.

Nik slid his hands into his pockets. Exhaled. “I love you—”

“Not now, Nik,” Týr grunted.

He snorted. “It’s what it means in Greek.”

Aethan narrowed his eyes, his expression darkening. The door flew open. Without another word, he stalked into the castle.

Did Echo have a thing for some other male now?

Damn. “And shit just keeps falling,” Týr muttered. “C’mon, let’s roll.”

 

© Georgia Lyn Hunter

New Release: Fallen Guardians #8 – Beyond Destiny

Ely & Nate’s book is finally here!!

Heaven and Hell have never been so close…

Cover art by Nico of thebookbrander.com

 

BLURB:

Can a creature of the dark and an angel conquer a forbidden love?

As a new Guardian, bloodshed and death become Ely’s way of life. During a skirmish, she faces off with a demon unlike any, whose sexy swagger and wicked smile throw her off her stride. Until he opens his mouth. Then she wants to kill the maddening male. Yet, every time he’s near, the draw to him is inexorable…but he’s her sworn enemy.

They call him Sicari, an assassin. Except he is something worse—a monster. Bound to a hellish existence, Nate shuns entanglements of any sort until her. A female who’s as lethal as the weapons she wields, and who cracks through his armor with just a glare. Their attraction is undeniable, but they can never be. Not when his all-consuming desire for his beautiful nemesis becomes as dangerous as his need for gore and death.

As emotions unravel, aware of the eternal heartbreak, both succumb to a dark passion, awakening Nate’s sinister nature. With enemies on all sides and time running out, Nate must sacrifice everything to protect the angel he loves. But Ely will battle the entire Dark Realm to save him, even if it means facing a fate from which there is no escape…

*Another slow-burn dance in this 126k+ words enemies-to-lovers story!

 

Editorial Review:
‘Fated Mates with a slew of inner baggage and enemies to battle, unexpected plot twists and surprises, and a cast of unique and amusing supporting characters. In short:  another fun, action-packed installment in the Fallen Guardians paranormal / fantasy series sure to please both new readers and current fans. ~C. Breslin

Get a copy here:

AMAZON:  US |  AU |  CA |  UK

Or read on #kindleunlimited

 

Excerpt:

The first meeting between H/h

 

Demons swarmed Ely from all sides. Her weapon braced, she moved in a blur, slicing and stabbing. Shrieks echoed. A punch landed on the side of her head, and she stumbled backward. Stars exploded, pain careening through her skull. Her senses swam. She was going to crucify the effen cretins!

Teeth clenched, fingers tightening on her staff, she eyed the asses, adrenaline spiking.

Another demon flashed in front of her, blocking her view, and more of the vermin backed him up. This one was reed thin and pretty. Pale curly hair hugged his skull, the color almost matching his milk-white cherubic features. He angled his head and smiled, then his nose twitched. “By the darkness, you smell…incredible. Come,” he crooned in a hypnotic hum, dark eyes flashing a deep red, his invasive stare sliding over her body as if licking her.

For that alone, she wanted to gouge out his eyeballs and make him eat them before killing him.

“Come female—”

“Enough!” an icy voice snapped. The utterly lethal tone had Ely freezing for a split second.

A shadowy blur catapulted over the horde and landed in front of them, sending the remaining demons scattering, his hood falling off his head. Even the anemic cur took a step back as their leader stalked over like some predator of the night. His long coat flew open, revealing black jeans hugging muscled thighs.

Ely didn’t retreat, her weapon braced, fed up with the lot and their freaking arrogance.

If Milk-White was good-looking, this one knocked what little air she had in her lungs right into the stinky alley. Straight, ebony hair framed a face made for sin and fell about his broad shoulders. His flame-hued, topaz eyes did a quick up-down of her, and for some reason, it had her breath catching—

Vae! It was him!

The demon she’d ogled earlier.

Up close, he was even more breathtaking. Tiny pairs of black hoop earrings glittered in both his lobes, and something about them added to the perilous air he wore like a second skin. Heck, she couldn’t help but stare.

Then he opened his mouth. “Female, any other time I’d play with you. Right now, do me a fav and get lost. This is none of your business.”

The condescending ass!

One thing she hated even more than having a mate chosen for her was being spoken down to as if she were a clueless idiot.

“Wrong,” she said coldly, her fascination dying. “My turf, my biz, demon.”

There was a heartbeat of a pause. Then his head cocked, recognition dawning in those hellish eyes. One corner of his mouth tipped in a knowing smirk, revealing the tip of a fang.

Too bad for him, only one of them would come out of this alive.

 

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New release: #playerdown & excerpt:

The final book in the Players to Men series.Title: #playerdown
Releasing: Jan 18th

 

 

COVER ARTIST: Montana JadeBLURB

When a careless wager lands you in trouble…

Sworn off men and their cheating ways, I focus on my new career as an illustrator. Then my path crosses with hotshot hockey star and notorious player, War. No matter his intense blue stares and sinful smiles, I’m not going down that road again.
But one forgotten bet made weeks ago, and my plans go up in flames. Manipulated into working for the gorgeous, vexing man—for free!—I refuse to be another notch on his hockey stick! I’m taking you down, #19 

It’s time to up the stakes…

I live and breathe hockey, until Charlotte Jones with her short skirts and sexy legs sashays into my life. The maddening woman challenges me in ways I cannot deny. I’m used to getting what I want, but my former player rep presents a handicap. If calling in this bet to keep her close and prove to her she is whom I want, I’m all over it.
And damn the risks, whatever they may be.
Then she goes into battle mode on social media… Game on, @charlij

 

AMAZON: US | UK | AU | CA

& on kindleunlimited

 

Editorial Review

War and Charli are tortured souls with darkness in their pasts. It’s so satisfying to watch them both overcome their insecurities and achieve their Happily Ever After. Add in two snarky besties, a troublemaking cat, and sizzling love scenes, and #PlayerDown is a #MustRead for all romance fans.  ~ Celia Breslin

 

~~~

 

Chapter One

War

 

“C’mon, kill him! Kill him, War!” The yells grew, resonating in the almost empty auditorium. Adrenaline spiking through my veins, I ignored the groupies, my attention nailed on the six ounces of vulcanized rubber whooshing over the ice. Yet my mind wasn’t on my practice but on the text message I’d gotten earlier.

I know who you are.

The fuck they did! My jaw hardened. I had my share of crazies, but this—

A body rammed into me, sending me crashing into the protective glass. Despite my helmet, my brain shuddered inside my skull. Anger, already brimming, unleashed. I spun around, grabbed the asshole, and slammed him headfirst into the pane. He stumbled back, skates sliding out from under him, and fell on his ass.

Rampant cheering erupted from the stands, hauling me back to the ice.

Breathing hard, I stared down at my fallen teammate, my mind slamming back online again. Fuck, fuck!

“Jesus Christ, War!” Cal spat out. “What the hell, man?” He swiped his bleeding mouth.

Hell. I helped him up from the ice. Growling, Cal removed his helmet, a bruise already forming on his jaw.

Good thing Coach, or Miles, my agent, wasn’t around. With enough of their warnings about reining in my temper hanging over my head to create a damn thunderstorm, even during off-season, I was literally skating on thin ice and in danger of being pulled out during the opening game come October.

Whoever sent the fucking text found a surefire way for me to lose my shit.

Tamping down my frustration, I picked up Cal’s hockey stick and handed it over. “Sorry, man. Reflex.”

“You’re never gonna make the team’s captain with that temper.” Cal’s pissed-off voice blasted me, reminding me of what else was at stake. Not just that and missing another game, but the endorsement deal Miles was in the middle of negotiating.

I pulled off my helmet, and swiped my sweaty brow on my bicep, then cocked an eyebrow. Didn’t bother to say it. Because I would make team captain, one way or the other.

He snorted. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass, Chaos,” he grumbled out my team nickname, and winced, gingerly rubbing his jaw. “But you keep me on my toes.”

“Cal, I love you!” a groupie shouted, drawing our attention. “Let me kiss your face better—I’ll kiss everything better.” More chants followed. “Cal, we love you!”

“War, smash his face in!” another yelled with glee. “And I’ll kiss you any place you want.”

Cal snorted. “Man, the disloyalty after I let them inside.”

“Yeah, transient like the breeze. You’re welcome to them.” I pivoted, looking for the puck.

“Whoa, hold it!” He skated around me, raking his fingers through his short, sweat-slick, light hair, eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline. “When did you start taking the high road when fucking is like breathing for you?”

I undid my glove, my attention shifting to a few guys gliding onto the ice for practice, and I scratched my unshaven jaw. “Bored.”

Cal, still swishing around me, stopped so suddenly, a good thing he had fucking excellent reflexes, or he’d be kissing glass again. Bored wasn’t even it. I felt…jaded.

“Seriously?” he demanded.

I shrugged. They wanted to fuck a notorious player like me. Bad both in the rink and out of it. The media usually embellished the truth, but mine was pretty close to reality, especially since it took certain words to trigger my temper.

Gutter trash.

My teeth ground down at the label.

It was said during the quarter finals, to derail my concentration and set me off. It had ended with me nailing the fucker in the ribs, slapped with a one-game suspension, and having to endure three similar lectures at different times from Coach, Cheetah’s PR, Amber, and Miles. If I wanted to continue playing hockey for the Cheetahs and keep my endorsements, I had to reel in my shit.

“More for me, then.” Cal grinned when I didn’t answer. “Ow, fuck, man!” He grimaced, gingerly pressing his jaw again. “Those damn fists of yours should be banned. I’m outta here.” He glided for the exit, then yelled, “Catch you Thursday, same time?”

“Yeah.” I glanced back at the middle row seats in the Cheetah’s facilities, where my two best friends, Max and Jack, sat with their wives. Surprisingly they hadn’t left yet after delivering the astounding news earlier.

Married? Jack?

Hell, the concept still scrambled my brains.

Our friendship spanned over a decade. Both Max and Jack worked for their respective family’s conglomerate businesses. Max in the banking world and Jack in hotels. They watched me with resigned expressions. Because I slammed Cal into the glass?

I shrugged and picked up the puck. Though my friends knew some of the shit that had occurred in my past, they didn’t know the darkest part—one I was forever trapped in with no way of crawling out of it. And now those fucking texts dragged up everything again.

About to skate off, movement in my peripheral view snagged my attention.

A girl with golden brown skin and waist-length spiral hair sprinted up the steps, her short, pleated skirt revealing a sexy expanse of toned legs as she joined Ila and Ray.

Charlotte Jones.

Or Charli, as she preferred to be called. Best friends with Max’s wife and totally off-limits to me. She dropped onto the seat next to Ray, plunging into a rapid conversation. I hadn’t seen her since the wedding weeks ago.

She’d been…unexpected.

Women hit on me all the time, but Charli? She would put the Golden Gate Bridge between us if she could. However, during the rehearsals and wedding, she’d lowered those mountain-high shields she wore like armor just enough to reveal the funny girl with a sarcastic sense of humor. And it wasn’t because of my devastating charm. I had none.

She didn’t treat me like some mega hockey star, and she didn’t seem to care about my bad boy rep, or me at all.

I frowned, watching her.

Sure, she had killer legs and a smile that could make me forget my name, but something beyond that sparkling surface stuck with me—

“Hey, Warrick?” Cal slid back to me again, his skates spraying ice everywhere. “There’s a party tonight, and those chicks,” he nodded to the now vacant back row where the clutch of groupies had gathered during practice, “want you to join us.”

“No.”

He stared like he’d never seen me before. “You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“Why?” Hell, I felt burned out and needed a break from everything. Even though it was already the middle of off-season, I still couldn’t seem to focus on anything. And why I’d hauled Cal in for practice, needing to work off the funk.

Snorting, he shook his head.

Charli’s light laughter had me glancing back. I don’t know what it was, but once again, she pulled me out of my own murky thoughts.

“What’s got you so riveted?” Cal drawled. “Ah, the Logan girls are here.”

“The Logan girls are now those hotheads’ wives,” I retorted.

“Man, I sure missed out on Ray.”

“It seems you do want your face rearranged. Go ahead, tell Jack what you just said.”

“Nah. I’m good.” Cal grinned, then he stilled. “Who’s the chick with them?” His stare fixed on Charli like some horny fucking rooster. “She’s hot.”

“We man-hos don’t feature on her to-do list.” I skated off the rink, needing to get out of here and back to my apartment to change and meet up with the guys at the bar. And just maybe my little nemesis would be there, too.

“She hasn’t met me yet.” He glided after me.

“Cal, go find another groupie to screw. Leave her the fuck alone.” Or I’d probably end up breaking his jaw and losing everything I worked so hard for.

As I trudged into the locker room, a thought had me slowing down. Hell, I’d forgotten about that convo Charli and I had during the rehearsal dinner.

We had a little wager to settle.

Suddenly, my day looked so much brighter.

“What has you smiling? Which is a damn scary sight, by the way,” Cal muttered as I undressed.

“Fuck off.”

Anticipation stirring, I grabbed a towel and headed for the showers.

 

Charli

 

“Girl, you’re glowing!” I hugged Ila, my bestie since we first met at the arts university as freshmen many years ago.

Tanned and radiant, wedded bliss suited her, and it made me happy. She finally managed to move on with a great guy who saw only her, and who healed her broken heart after her two-timing rat-ass of a dick ex had hurt her so badly.

“Honeymoon baby on the way?” I grinned.

She laughed, amber eyes bright with happiness. “No. When the time’s right, then who knows?”

“Hey, you.” I hugged Ray, Ila’s younger sister. We’d become good friends, too, since we all usually ended up hanging together.

“So, what’s up?” I slipped off my mini leather backpack and sat next to Ray. “Why are we meeting here at the Cheetah’s training facilities?”

Ila shrugged. “Don’t ask me. Max and I only got back last night from our honeymoon. It’s all on her.” Ila nodded at her smirking sister. “You know Ray, she’ll tell us when she’s ready.”

Ray snorted, the secret still buttoned behind her dimpled smile. “Jack wanted to see War about something, and I decided here was a good place to talk. Besides, I couldn’t wait any longer.” Her hazel eyes shone like the stars had settled in there.

“Man, you’re both blooming like an ad for a health spa,” I grumbled. “Was something added to the water while I was gone, and I missed out?”

Ila grinned, and Ray burst out laughing, a flush deepening her striking features. “Well, not in the water, maybe in the air…so, Jack and me? We got married!” She flashed out her hand.

What?

“What?” Ila grabbed her sister’s hand. “Do Mom and Dad know?”

Damn, I laughed. Only Ray could pull the rug out from under us and toss us on our asses. Heck, the rock she sported could be seen from space—

Oh, shit!

My smile slid off my face. I sat there, frozen to the seat.

“Yeah, the parental unit knows.” Ray grinned at her sister. “And Jack’s family, too. We didn’t want to tell anyone else until you got back, but you just had to take a few extra days to do so.”

She calmly laid the fault at Ila’s feet, while all I could think of was, I am sooo freakin’ fuuuuucked.

“It’s why I asked you both to meet me here today.” Ray continued. “We’re going to Mulligan’s later to celebrate. After all, the bar was where Jack and I started.”

Ila glanced back to Max who sat behind us with Jack, the latter thoroughly amused. Max’s bisected left eyebrow lifted, green eyes questioning.

“Did you know about this?” she demanded.

“No.” He shook his head. His overgrown hair streaked a lighter blond from the summer sun, gleamed under the indoor lights. “After you and Ray came up here to wait for Charli, Jack told War and me. Anyway, Ray wanted to reveal her news to you both.”

Ila glared at her sister, then she hugged her again. “Oh, I’m so happy, I could cry! I called it!”

“Yes.” Ray beamed, dimples popping free again. “But Jack’s grandfather did waaay before Jack and I even knew. He simply moved us game players on his chessboard and watched us fumble into love.” Her belly-rolling laughter spilled free.

Maybe I was still doing my statue impersonation, or maybe I was groaning, I didn’t know, because Ray reached out and rubbed my arm. “Hey, I know you’re not upset about Jack and me, so what gives, Char?”

I cast a furtive sideways glance to the rink. Thank God, War had left. He’d made a dramatic exit, too, after ramming a teammate’s head into the glass. I don’t know what had gotten into him for this violent behavior. Luckily for his sexy ass, it wasn’t a match but practice, or he would be in serious shit, according to Max and Jack.

“Nothing,” I evaded. “I’m so happy for you!” I embraced Ray again. Heck, she was like my little sister. But tell them what I’d done in a moment of sheer recklessness, during Ila and Max’s rehearsal dinner? That I’d made a bet with the last, notorious player left from the trio?

Ugh, no.

War, from what I’d heard, didn’t just have a one-night stand with one woman, but one-night, too-many-orgies with several—hell, that alone had me wanting to run far away from the hardcore player.

My friends might have done the marriage deed. And at one point, I’d wanted that, too. But after three knocks too many, nope, marriage wasn’t on the horizon for me. Men were nothing but dirtbags. Well, the ones I fell for, anyway. Because I always, always ended up with the same template.

Good-looking, lying, cheating jerkwads.

“So?” Ray arched an eyebrow at me. “You’re all done on the East Coast?”

A pang of tears caught in my throat. My beloved Nan, my late dad’s mom, had passed several months ago. After the wedding, I’d to gone to New York and finally put the brownstone she’d left me on the market.

“Yes, hopefully, the house will sell soon.”

“Settled in your new job yet?” Ila asked.

Two years ago, running away from my broken heart, I’d ended working in an art gallery in Germany, thanks to my stepbrother’s connections. Back then, I hadn’t cared. I just wanted to get away from everything, but I missed home and my friends, so I quit and came back.

But another job as personal assistant to a gallery owner? God, no. I wanted something more, something different, where I could actually apply my own art skills.

“No, I turned it down.” I sighed, my shoulders slumping. “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore, but I know it’s not working in a gallery as a PA, managing correspondence, seeing to the safety of works, and putting together other artist’s exhibits. However…” I perked a little. “I do have a Zoom meeting later this evening with a writer who wants an illustrator for a book he’s working on. Could be interesting.”

But doubts settled, causing my stomach to knot. Would a writer want to take a chance working with an unknown artist and illustrator? In this fast-growing field I waded through, I wasn’t sure. Hopefully, my portfolio would speak for itself.

“That’s wonderful!” Ila reached past Ray and patted my knee. “You’ll get it.”

“He mentioned he had two other interviews, so I’m not holding my breath.” I retrieved my cell from my little backpack to call Lyft, but at the missed call on the display, my heart knocked warily against my ribcage.

Mom.

She’d gone by Camile Dupont since my teens and not Jones any longer after multiple marriages. Currently, she was somewhere in the Mediterranean, on a cruise, recovering from her fifth marriage. It could only mean she was coming home or already on her way there. I didn’t return her call. The last thing on earth I wanted to do right now was deal with my high-maintenance mother.

My gaze lit on the time. Shoot! I jumped up. “I gotta go. I have to get ready for my Zoom interview.”

“We’re leaving, too,” Ila said, rising. “We only stayed to hear Ray’s news. But we’re all meeting up at Mulligan’s later. You coming?”

I frowned as I picked up my backpack. “I’m not sure if I can make it. I’ll try.” I hugged my friends and then skedaddled out of there. More so, to avoid a certain player before he appeared and gloated over his easy victory at the stupid bet. Not that War gloated or some such inane crap. The guy could say volumes with just a look from those magnetic, deep blue eyes.

Maybe I should own up, give him the ten dollars, and suffer the gloating. War had every right to do so. And I needed to learn to zip my quick mouth.

As I headed down the steps and out the main entrance of the building, my mind slipped back to the rehearsal dinner…

“They’re more involved than they’re letting on,” War murmured from his seat by my side.

“What? Who?” My gaze lifted from my decadent dessert, clashing with War’s, and those indigo blues almost had me forgetting why he paid me any attention, making me feel as if I truly was his date and not just a bridesmaid to his best man. Darn, I had to stop letting my romance novels’ ideas bleed into real life. Only in fiction did a girl find a guy so solely committed to her that all others ceased to exist.

“Ray and Jack?” I dismissed it with a wave of my spoon. “No way. Ray’s only interested in getting her degree.”

He made a noncommittal sound.

“You don’t believe me?” I demanded. War’s quietness irked me at times. I was damn sure when he had his groupies around, it wasn’t that way. It probably turned into a whole other ball—er, find-the-hidden-puck game.

He shrugged. “While that might be true, I think Jack changed her mind about him. Their dynamics have altered.”

“Yeah, right.” I snort-laughed, my attention back on them. Ray sat with her parents, and Jack on their other side. They barely said a word to each other during rehearsals. Heck, they didn’t even look at the other. It was as if they both existed on different ends of the country.

“You don’t know her like I do.” I dug up a spoonful of my sinful citrus cheesecake, topped with fresh cream and raspberry coulis, and ate the yummy confection. “I’ve known Ray a long time.”

When that annoying eyebrow quirked, my mouth ran off. “Ten bucks say they aren’t.”

“And I say they are.”

Yep, I’d lost that bet spectacularly.

As I walked alongside the building, debating where to wait for Lyft, the blond hockey player War had rammed into the protective glass strolled out of an exit door marked “Staff and Players Only”. The few girls hanging around darted over and clung to him like extra limbs.

The security guy stationed there simply shook his head and turned away to speak into his walkie-talkie.

I slowed my pace and hung back several feet away, not wanting to be mistaken for one of the adoring fans. The exit door opened again and War stepped out, hooking his massive hockey bag over one shoulder, stick in hand.

The guy was tall, easily around six-four, and muscled. My stupid heart clipped like it was on a fast-track to—to nowhere, dammit! We weren’t even friends, just partners at a wedding now long over. That was all.

His cell beeped. He retrieved the device from his jeans pocket and glanced at it, the waning sunlight highlighting the lighter streaks in his overgrown brown hair and his lean, unshaven jaw.

Before I could call out his name, a whirlwind of flying blonde hair rushed past, leaped onto him, and jammed her lips to his. He stumbled back a step, hockey stick falling as he grabbed her waist. She giggled as he set her down, then she shoved something in his hand.

My fingers tightened around my cell. Hell, I could deal with our bet another time. Why intrude on his hook-up plans for the evening? Ignoring the dip in my belly, I remained where I was, near a parked gray SUV, hoping they’d leave and find some other place to do their canoodling.

Heck, this discomfort was all on me. I knew his rep, and he was true to form.

I really needed to find a new template. Someone a little more like me.

You mean dorky?

Yes, probably safer! I mentally snapped back at my annoying conscience.

So, what if I liked hanging at home, reading, sketching, or watching rom-coms?

It made me happy. I didn’t need a man for that.

Mostly, I no longer trusted my foolish heart. It always made crappy choices.

The sun lowered behind the hills, casting looming shadows. I called for a share ride. My app indicated seven minutes.

“War!” The shrieks deafened me, and I winced, looking up.

Three of the groupies left his friend and scurried after him like he was the best thing to happen since the internet took life. He stood with his back to me, his hands fisted at his sides, one of them probably still clutching the bit of groupie paper like the map to the holy grail.

For him, it undoubtedly was.

Wanting to get away from this Player Show and wait for my ride elsewhere, I stole past him…

 

Continue reading chapters 2 & 3 HERE 

 

New Release: Warlord’s Storm

Can a ruthless warrior convince a broken woman to take a chance on love in his dying world?

Title: Warlord’s Storm
Series: Warlords of Empyrea #3
Release: Oct 12th, 2021

 

Cover artist,  Montana Jade

BLURB

Deadly warlord Northaen has fought for millennia to preserve what’s left of his angelic dominion of Kalasder. On the hunt to locate one of the prophesized women who will help save his realm and take her back with him—or steal her if he had to—he comes face-to-face with a fiery female with the wounded eyes, one who threatens his iron-clad control and turns his world upside down.

Cruelly betrayed, all Kataya Jamison wants is to lick her wounds someplace quiet, not clash with a maddening immortal who believes she possesses the mystical blood magic his world desperately requires. With her life falling apart, it’s the last complication she needs. But when rebels snatch her, and the intractable man comes to her rescue, the armor protecting her heart starts to slip.

Together on his bleak realm, and despite her wariness, neither can resist the desire blazing between them. A passion that is intense as it is forbidden. And North will stop at nothing to claim her as his. When his enemies target Kataya, a powerful darkness rises, and their burgeoning bond is viciously tested. But the sacrifice required to defeat it may very well break them both…

*A slow-burn romance with a broken heroine and a bloodthirsty, possessive hero.

***

Buy links: AMAZON: US | UK | CA| AU| 

PAPERBACK

***

Editorial Review: 
Another enthralling installment in the Warlord’s series! Loads of entertaining tension, riveting world-building and action, and, of course, hot love scenes between flawed characters who so deserve a HEA.
Not to be missed!   ~Celia Breslin

There’s very few paranormal authors out there that can do complex mythology without confusion. Author Hunter has proven once again that she is a master plotter… The writing is crisp and flows like water. This is a true epic, with sword fighting and consequences that will hit you right in the feels. You just have to plan on no interruptions before you dive in. ~ Amazon Reviewer, Sierra Clothier

Amazing World Building – Who Walks Among Us!?!
Brilliantly written. A pure delight to read. ~ Amazon Reviewer, KSon

How do you describe perfection? Because that is all this author writes. I have never read a series that truly sucks you like these ones. ~ Reviewer, Author of DaR, JMiller

***

Chapter 1

 

“Imagine, finally having Kalasder’s brutal warlord at my mercy.”

At the cool sword caressing the sun-warmed skin of his nape, North gritted his teeth. His head ached as if someone had used it as a punching bag. Exhaustion weighed him down, and the damn fosser would dare threaten him? As if he wasn’t aware of the pain-in-the-ass for the past several minutes.

North didn’t move, remained hunkered down on the pier of the cabin he’d leased in upstate New York, his gaze on the dragonflies skimming the waters of the tranquil lake. “You must truly have a death wish.”

“And yet I hold the sword.”

“You should have run.”

He sprang up as a blade whistled through the air. His own weapon summoned, he spun around and blocked the deadly strike, the clash of metal ringing among the trees. North flashed to the pine-fringed grassy patch, a better place than the narrow wooden pier to dual this out and hack the idiot into pieces.

His second-in-command charged, sporting an annoying smirk, his sword glinting with an otherworldly blue hue. He met the warrior head-on with a lethal swing to his neck—

Or it would have been, but a thunderous crack erupted as Rig countered. North’s blade shattered, the splinters falling onto the grass.

He glared at the broken, human weapon.

“Vae, Adad,” Rigel grumbled, swiping the plasma seeping from his injured neck. “That strike would have had my head flying into the lake!”

Adad? His enforcers persisted with the annoying Thunder designation.

“Did you think being on the human world, I’d be any slower?” North grunted, ignoring the ache on his thigh from an old battle wound as he picked up the metal shards, grateful for the momentary spending of energy. The fight had dropped his roiling power a notch.

“One can hope.” Rigel grinned, slamming his massive, unbreakable Kalasderian sword with the etched hilt into the ground.

“You look a little better after the last battle.” His second’s too perceptive gilded stare did a quick up-down of him.

“Being struck by a spelled arrow would do that.” Damn rebels. They’d used anything to take him down, like he was that easy to kill. Just as well his mage got the barb out in time, but the wound still throbbed.

“So, this is the human realm?” Rigel glanced around him at the tall trees and shrubs surrounding the cabin, then at the calm lake in front. His smile faded. “Our world resembled this once. Temperate weather. Tranquil. Verdant and colorful.”

North watched his old friend and second-in-command—one of the few males he trusted—through narrowed eyes and waited for whatever brought him to Earth.

Rigel exhaled and crouched on the lawn, his attention on the still waters. “We have a problem. The Rean Forest. Something’s wrong there.”

“How do you mean?”

“Oh, the trees are still standing, but they’re fading, too.” His brow furrowed. “It’s hard to explain. You can only feel it.”

“The Decuris are aware of the situation?”

“Aye.” Rigel’s mouth thinned.

The governing body of Kalasder usually oversaw every aspect of the realm. As nobles with higher-level powers, it fell on them to take care of this problem.

They hadn’t. Rigel had sought him out.

The Rean Forest was as vital to them as finding the chosen women now possessing their world’s mystical magic. They needed the forest’s roots to siphon the build-up of their powerful abilities, preventing any potential disasters.

“Just thought you should know.” Rigel exhaled wearily and rose to his feet. “Since you haven’t mentioned the artifact, I imagine the search still goes on?”

At the mention of their quest, a blast of power shot up into his skull, spiking the headache which started days ago. An anomaly that annoyed him to no end. North grunted, pulled the pain deep into him, and nodded. “It does.”

He’d arrived on Earth a few months ago to help find the missing mystical Stone of Light, the one housing the magic of Creation. And one they desperately needed back on Empyrea to stop their realm’s magic from fading further. Except, the Stone wasn’t whole any longer, having shattered a decade ago, choosing human females to safeguard fragments of its power.

At the rate the hunt was going, his dying dominion would be a hunk of gravel, rocks, and endless sand before they found all the chosen. And far too late for Kalasder.

His jaw hardened. He refused to let that happen.

He’d update his enforcers once he returned to Kalasder. “I’ll be there soon. I have something to take care of first. Keep an eye on the Rean Forest.”

“Will do.” With a wave of his hands, a shimmering portal split the air. Rigel stepped through, and the gateway hissed shut.

North headed indoors to change before leaving for Greenwich Village, hoping his suspicions panned out. If Eve and Brenna were both Chosen, then it stood to reason their other friend must be one, too.

All he needed was one of them to take back to his dying realm. And he hoped to the stars it wasn’t too late for Kalasder.

***

Man, sometimes she hated her job.

Kat strode for her small red Fiat parked a block away from the smelly job she’d just covered. Her photographer had already skedaddled, undoubtedly because of the wretched smell. Heck, she couldn’t blame him. She must stink like shit, too.

Six years and this was what her work life amounted to, covering a burst sewer pipe downtown.

“You’re still young, Kat. Your time will come.” Her editor’s words ricocheted in her head. Gerhard Jenkins of The Daily Journal was a darn stick in the mud when handing out hard-hitting assignments.

Young? In four months, she’d be twenty-seven.

She appreciated he’d given a just-out-of-college reporter a chance all those years ago, and she’d work her butt off since then. But her old insecurities dug their claws deeper every time Jenkins doled out another vapid story to cover. Not good enough for her parents, not good enough for Gerry. It wasn’t like she wanted to win the Pulitzer Prize or something. But, apparently, fashion shows, charity drives, and burst sewers were more her forte—

Wolf whistles erupted from the construction site opposite, hauling her back to the busy street. Her mouth tightened in irritation. To them, her height and stop-sign red hair were like a billboard saying, catcall me. Assholes.

As she reached her car, a small body went flying past. Instinctively, Kat grabbed the child. A little girl with curly dark hair and huge brown eyes looked up at her and grinned, revealing a mouth of tiny pearly whites.

“Thank you, thank you!” the mother panted, rushing to her, hauling a stroller along. “She just got away from me.”

Kat barely heard her, her gaze on the infant asleep in the buggy, her chest cramping. Even a decade later, the loss of her unborn baby hurt like a knife lodged permanently in her heart.

“No problem.” She forced a smile and handed over the boisterous toddler.

The woman sighed as she strapped a safety harness on her little girl. “She thinks she can get to the park faster without me. Thanks again,” she said, and the little family ambled off.

It took a moment before Kat could breathe again. The urge to light up took hold, but since she was trying to give up the nasty habit, she found a mint in her tote and popped it in her mouth.

Maybe spending time with Eve would help her refocus. She hadn’t seen her friend since Brenna came to visit them both a few days ago, shortly before an immortal—a dark angel—had flown off with her.

Jesus. Otherworldly beings in their world?

Kat didn’t even want to even think about it. But since both her friends had fallen for those angelic beings, she didn’t have much of a choice.

An hour later, she drove her car into the Village as twilight hovered, and thankfully, found parking close to Eve’s building. As she began the dreaded parallel parking, her cell rang.

“If it’s important, you can call again. My car doesn’t support hands-free,” she grumbled, maneuvering her Fiat into the shoebox space. The ringing stopped.

Kat switched off the engine and got out of her car. Darn, she should call Eve. Her friend could still be at her studio, which was just around the corner from her apartment. As she leaned in to retrieve her cell from the console, it rang again.

Frowning at the unknown number, she hip-bumped the door shut and answered. When she heard the male voice on the other end, relief flooded her.

Finally. After months of silence.

“Jake?”

***

North entered Eve and Reynner’s quiet apartment, shutting the door behind him.

Slouched in the armchair, Aerén, the youngest prince of Empyrea, glanced his way. Strands of his light blue hair escaped its tether to frame his brooding features. “You’re back.”

North arched an eyebrow. “You missed me. Good to know.”

Snorting, Aerén slumped lower, staring at the muted news on TV. “I can’t believe we lost a Chosen to the freakin’ Darkrean warlord!”

And that still annoyed the prince to no end. It had been two days since that warlord had left with Brenna back to Dregarus.

“We didn’t lose her, Aerén, she’s in love with him. She made her choice.” He headed for the coffee machine in the galley kitchen.

“Sometimes, I question the wisdom of human females,” Aerén groused, drumming his fingers on the padded armrest. “She could have done so much better than the blackguard, Sebris.”

North understood the prince’s ire since he’d blamed the Darkrean leader for all the troubles Empyrea faced. Most times, North would have agreed with him. However, he didn’t think Sebris was responsible for the disappearance of Aerén’s parents, the cause of the male’s current antipathy.

North sipped the rich, aromatic coffee and made his way to the window.

“This waiting is driving me crazy! Yo, Kalasder? Wanna join me at the clubs later tonight? Meet up with some of the fairer sex?”

“Not the way you plan,” North retorted, staring down at the busy street below.

“You should try it. Hooking up will get rid of all the, er, aggression I sense,” Aerén shot back, laughing. Then the sound of swords clanging together erupted from the TV as he started his PlayStation game.

North scrubbed his whiskered jaw, a restlessness stirring within him. He should leave, go back to Kalasder, get someone else to check out his suspicion, yet his feet didn’t move.

Hell, if Reynner could just leave his mate alone for five seconds, he could get Eve’s other friend’s name and address. Two minutes tops, and he’d get this done.

A redhead on her cell phone, gesturing wildly, snagged his attention. Suddenly, she kicked the tire of a car then hopped on one foot, startling him.

That had to hurt.

She was tall for a human, but something about her seemed familiar. His brow furrowed as he tried to place her. She slumped against her small automobile and lowered her head to her arms braced on the roof, an air of despair clinging to her so strongly, he could sense it from where he watched her, several stories above the street.

Seconds passed before she straightened, and moving as if an automaton, she opened the car door, burrowed briefly inside her vehicle, then resurfaced. With shaky hands, she put something in her mouth.

A cigarette?

He’d been in this world for a few months and had seen enough of the danger mortals faced. Yet, with their brief lifespan, they would further harm themselves using these destructive vices.

Why was he watching her, anyway?

Human females held little interest for him except for those who possessed the magic that should resonate within them once their paths crossed. He shouldn’t care about a random woman who kicked car tires and smoked death sticks. The redhead climbed into her car, maneuvered it out of her tight parking spot, and took off at a terrifying speed.

North shook his head. The female sure had a death wish. He pivoted from the window and headed for the counter.

“Hard to believe how this quest has changed,” Aerén said, his attention fixed on his game. “We started out two thousand years ago watching and waiting for the missing artifact to surface, only to discover it had crashed a decade ago in the mortal world, choosing human females to house its magic—females that are mates to our kind.”

North set his mug down and sat on a barstool. “These matings would cause problems in Empyrea.”

“It’s one of the reasons why I won’t take Eve there,” Reynner said, walking into the kitchen. He tied back his ice-blond hair with an elastic band, expression grim. “Unless there’s change in our world.”

He understood Reynner’s concern. But trying to change the eons-old ruling of an entire world would be like hacking a mountain with a teaspoon. Their people were too steeped in their beliefs and laws.

“You do realize once we find all the Chosen, they will have to go to Empyrea? And Eve, too,” he pointed out.

“Then there’d better be a change to the rules and their attitude,” Reynner countered as he selected a mug from the cupboard.

“My brother should know about this.” Aerén tossed the game controller aside and leaped up to pace, as if he had too much energy to stay still any longer. “As the current Elyon, only he can make the required change stick.”

“Yeah, Anedaén probably could,” Reynner agreed, pouring his coffee. “But do you seriously think the rest of the dominions’ political councils will accept Empyreans having humans as mates?”

No, North knew straight up the governing body of Kalasder would never agree.

“They have no choice,” Aerén retorted, stopping near the window. “We cannot have Empyrea dying just because they won’t accept mortals.”

North exhaled, his edginess hiking.

“You okay?” Reynner asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, palming his mug.

At his sympathetic indigo stare, North wondered which item from his mile-long list he should dump on this warrior currently settled on Earth.

Reveal the harsh truth about the deadly decline his realm had plunged into soon after the mystical Stone went missing? About how something was wrong with their sacred Rean trees now, too? Or how he fared since Nida had departed his life?

Hell, he’d seen the accusation in the eyes of his people, though none would dare say so to his face. As a warlord, you should never have taken a mate. She’s dead because of you.

But why point out all the shit dogging his heels?

“I’m good.” He set his mug down. “There’s something I want to—”

“Let’s head out and track for the Chosen.” Aerén pivoted from the window and strode over.

“No, later,” Reynner said. “Safer for us, and we don’t draw attention to ourselves during the night.”

“Not draw attention?” Eve laughed as she entered her kitchen, tucking back strands of dark hair escaping the messy coil on top of her head. “You all look like you stepped out of a fantasy movie set,” she said drily.

Reynner remained silent, but his gaze softened as he watched his mate.

Aerén grinned. “Then the females should happily give us their blood to test, right?”

“No. You cannot simply walk up to a woman and ask for blood.” Eve rolled her eyes. “No matter how good-looking you are, you’re asking for a kick in the bal—er, royal jewels.”

Aerén guffawed.

Smiling, Eve slipped past Reynner and reached up for a glass in the cabinet. “Man, I still can’t get over Brenna being in love with Sebris. Who would have thought, huh? My best friend’s the sweetest, kindest person, and she falls for a badass like him.”

“Badass?” Reynner repeated, eyebrows rising.

Her faced flushed. “Well, Sebris’ savagery, I’ve heard about, and you’re just as ruthless!” she shot back. “I saw it all when you dragged me into your life.”

Snorting, Reynner settled a hand on her waist, retrieved the glass from the top shelf she couldn’t quite reach, and handed it to her. “If he feels half the way I do about you for her,” he said softly, brushing her cheek with the back of his knuckles—and he didn’t even seem to care they weren’t alone—“then I can’t blame him for wanting her, magic or not.”

“Hell,” Aerén groaned. “Having to watch the way Reyn drools around Eve makes me want to gouge out my eyes.”

Eve laughed and opened the fridge.

Reynner grabbed an orange from the bowl on the counter and pitched the thing at Aerén. The prince caught the fruit before it whacked him in the face. Grinning, he headed for the door, tossing the orange in the air. “I’m going out.”

“Tone down your appearance,” Reynner called out.

“Not effin’ happening.” The door slammed shut behind him.

“That attitude is going to land him in trouble one of these days,” North said.

“Hopefully, a female who’ll kick his royal butt in place,” Reynner muttered.

A cell rang. Eve retrieved hers from her jeans pocket. “Work,” she murmured, setting the fruit juice on the counter. She answered her call and wandered to the window.

“Give me Eve’s other friend’s address.” North cut to the chase and rose. “I want to check her out, just in case.”

“Damn—of course.” Reynner glanced at his mate. “Both Eve and Brenna possess the magic, and she might, too. But discreetly. From what I’ve learned, she doesn’t care much for our kind,” he said, expression wry. “I don’t think she’s easily going to give us any blood for the test.”

North shrugged off the warning. She might not care for them being in this realm, but he wasn’t leaving, not until he knew for sure whether she possessed any of the artifact’s magic. Then he’d convince her to return with him. Hell, he’d steal her if he had, too. All that mattered was saving his world.

“I’ll get her agreement.”

Reynner sipped his coffee as if hiding a smile. “You haven’t met many human females or at least spent time with them. They are…complicated.”

How difficult could this be? “Her name?”

“Kataya Jamison, or Kat, as Eve calls her.” Reynner gave him the address.

As North headed for the door, his gaze fell on one of Eve’s framed photos on the bookshelf, a snapshot of herself and her two friends. It was her, the female he saw on the street, kicking the tire. While Eve and Brenna were laughing, the redhead sported a smile, but her expression remained distant, nothing like the emotional female he’d seen earlier.

Outside on the darkening streets, North paused, a prickling sensation sliding down his spine. He scanned the street and surrounding area but picked up nothing to warrant this unease.

Instead of heading for the quiet alley he used to dematerialize, he strode back into the building and up the brightly lit stairwell. Mentally, he killed the lights there. Why make it easy if they were being watched?

His mind back on his job, he dematerialized to Kataya Jamison’s apartment.

Moments later, he reformed behind her building, then headed around the side street to the front. A male came out of the security door, and North slipped inside before it shut him out.

As he climbed the stairs like a mortal, heading for the fourth floor, a faint intoxicating floral scent teased his senses, stirring his blood and hardening his groin.

North stumbled to a halt. What in Ater’s Hell?

He did a quick mental search for the source, but the gut-churning fragrance eluded him.

He didn’t have time for whatever it was.

Jaw clenched, his breathing shallow, he continued upstairs.

Once he checked out Kataya Jamison and took her off the list of potentials, he would track this scent gripping him by the balls and get rid of it. As if he needed a damn distraction when he had a realm to save and the next Chosen to find.

Read more chapters   HERE

Guardian’s Remedy 3.1 (A short story)

A Blaéz and Darci Vignette. This is a scene from my ongoing series of vignettes
exploring the daily lives of my Guardians.
For those new to the series, this is Blaéz and Darci’s story.
Blaéz is a fallen god from the Celtic pantheon, now mated to a human, Darci, whom he
loves more than his own life…
This scene takes place soon after their story ends in Breaking Fate.
Here’s a peep into their lives after the HEA…

***

Title:Guardian’s Remedy

A slice of life short

 

 

Darci paused at the entrance of the bathroom door, raking back her damp, honey-brown hair. Her breath caught as at the sight of her mate dressing—the man responsible for her current state of ragged breaths.

Tall, powerfully built, and with cropped ebony hair, Blaéz glanced at her as he pulled on a black t-shirt, covering that sexy body. Leathers encased strong, powerful thighs. But it was his eyes—now a beautiful cobalt blue—that held her attention.

It was still a shock to see them when they’d once been as pale as winter’s snow.

“I’m never going to make my meeting you walk around like that.”

At the soft, accusatory tone, She blinked. Then laughed. “I can’t exactly take a shower with clothes on…not that you were complaining a few minutes ago.”

“True.” A smile tugged that sinfully sensual mouth that could do magical things to her body.

Heck, he’d trapped her against the shower wall, teasing and stroking her, then he’d licked and nipped—hell, he’d just plain tormented her until she was a mindless mess of needs before he sank deep into her and let her come all over him. Yes, her man was ace in making her lose all control.

Blaéz sat on the chest and tugged on his boots, and with an utterly male look, his gaze drifted over her.

“A leannan, you in a towel, naked beneath it, is like a drug to me.”

“Aww, poor baby,” she teased him. “So don’t look at me, and just leave for your meeting.”

“Then I might as well stop breathing.” Blaéz rose to his feet and crossed to her. Cupping her face in his callused palms, he pressed his mouth to hers in a hard kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

Darci quickly slid her arms around his neck, stopping him. Dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’ll be here, waiting… Naked.”

He stilled. Eyes narrowed. He dropped his hands and grasped her by the upper arms. “Behave. I can’t go out there with a damn—fuck!” He nipped her lower lip with a sharp, punishing bite.

“Aww—that hurt!” She scowled and pulled back, licking the sore spot.

“And I have a damn hard on,” he muttered, yet his blue eyes glowed, gone all primal now. He kissed her once more, his tongue gliding over her abused lip. Then without another word, he stalked out of the dressing room to his meeting with the archangel and the other Guardians.

Grinning, Darci made her way to her closet, and then grimaced, a slight twinge squeezing her belly as she changed into pale blue pajama bottoms and a white tank top.

 

***

 

Ugh! Unable to relax, Darci tossed her book on the coffee table and pushed to her feet, and paced around the couch in the private study of their quarters a half hour later.

She rubbed her knotting stomach, the small ache from earlier gathering momentum. The spasm shooting through her belly still wouldn’t ease. No longer able to ignore it, she made her way to the bathroom.

God, she hated this time of the month.

She yanked opened the vanity cupboard and found a bottle of pain pills. Opened it. Darn, only one left. As she swallowed it with some water, she eyed the cabinet. She set the glass down and searched through it. Dammit! How on earth did she forget to buy more?

But then with everything that had happened in the past few weeks, meeting Blaéz and the upheaval that followed, her heart still stuttered remembering how badly it nearly ended for her and Blaéz, so no wonder she’d forgotten.

Stifling her groan and rubbing her stomach, she went back to the study, lowered to the couch, and picked up her cell from the coffee table. She texted Echo who was still in the Village, visiting her Gran.

Could you get me a box of tampons and a bottle of ibuprofen on your way back, please? The cramps are killing me.

She ended with a sad face emoji.

Blaéz was still downstairs in his meeting with Michael and the others. They would be heading out on patrol soon. But if he sensed she was in pain, he’d be here in a heartbeat and she didn’t want to distract him, not with the kind of job he had—killing supernatural evil. Dangerous and extremely deadly.

Keeping her mind-link to him shut, so he wouldn’t pick up on anything, she retrieved her book when her cell beeped with an instant return text. What’s wrong?

She stared blankly at the message. Blaéz? Oh. Shit!

Groaning at her faux pas, she typed again, except a shimmer took form, probably because she hadn’t responded fast enough for him.

Blaéz crossed to her. Concern realigning the sculptured lines of his handsome face, he crouched in front of her, his leathers creaking a little. His tee stretched across the muscular width of his shoulders and his thick biceps bulged, drawing her gaze to the mystical sword tattooed there. He rested his palms beside her hips on the couch.

Heat crowding her cheeks, Darci wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry, that was meant for Echo.”

He reached out and smoothed the pain lines on her brow. “What is it, a leannan?”

She rubbed her flushed face. “It’s nothing really…it’s er”—how the heck did she explain this to him? —“that time of the month. I’ll be okay soon…”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, as if processing her words, then he removed her hand and laid his palm on her stomach. She could feel the slight warmth of his healing powers sweeping through her. His brow creased, his expression troubled. “I cannot heal this…”

“Don’t worry—” aww crap, she broke off, as another spasm speared through her tummy and straight to her back, “It’s normal,” she gasped, not doing a very good job of reassuring her extremely worried mate. When she could breathe again, she smiled. “I’m fine, really. It’s just something women go through, some suffer more than others.”

He was silent for several seconds, his gaze searching hers then he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss on her knuckles. Pushing to his feet, he walked out.

Hmmm, Darci had no idea what to make of that. Sending her text message to Echo and making double sure it wasn’t any of the warriors, she lay down on the couch, curled into a ball, and closed her eyes, hoping the single pain pill would ease her horrible cramps.

 

***

 

At the sound of paper crackling, her eyes flickered open. Darci had no idea how much time had passed, only aware of the pain curling through her like a nagging toothache.

Her gaze lit on Blaéz. She blinked and sat up. Wide-eyed, she watched as he set a pharmacy packet on the table and another large paper bag near it. The hot water bottle wrapped in a towel, he left on the couch.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, bewildered.

In response, he crouched in front of her again, handed her a glass of apple juice, with another tablet. After she’d swallowed that with her drink, he rose and crossed to the television. Looking through the pile of her DVDs she had stacked on a shelf, he selected one, slipped the disc into the player, and came back to her. He sat down, picked her up, and settled her on his lap, his arms wrapped around her.

Darci eased back a little, stared at him in confusion. “You’re supposed to be on patrol.”

“You need me more. The others will call, if there’s an emergency.” He pressed his lips to her brow and gave her the hot water bottle. “I wrapped that up, it felt too hot. Here—” reaching out, he pulled out a box of Belgian truffles from the paper bag and set it next to her. “You like those.”

Oh… Tears crowded her eyes.

The man made her fall in love with him all over again.

“How do you know all this—what to do?”

“Google. I can’t stand to see you in pain,” he said quietly, brushing a curling strand away from her face. “I have what you need, in there.” He nodded to the pharmacy package.

No, he was all she needed. She hugged him tightly, then peered into the packet. Tampons.

Breathing deeply, she eased back into his arms and held the hot water bottle against her sore stomach. God, her man made her want to bawl. And in this emotional state, with her fluctuating hormones, it was guaranteed.

Blaéz took the remote from the table and switched on the digital player. The opening scene of Buffy came on…and there was Spike tailing Buffy through the cemetery.

Darci huffed out a laugh and looked back at Blaéz. She doubted he’d intentionally chosen that one. “You don’t like this show.”

Those beautiful blue eyes met hers. “I don’t like that you like that bleach-haired wanker, but since you like this series, I’ll endure.”

Her heart tripped. Pressing a kiss to his jaw, she snuggled into his embrace and rested her head on his chest. She slid her arm around his waist. “I love you.”

He rubbed his cheek against her hair, his hand slid beneath her tank top, his thumb tracing small circles on her waist. “There are no words for what I feel for you, a leannan,” he whispered. “But I love you will have to suffice.”

Guardian’s Remedy 2.1 (A short story)

A Blaéz and Darci Vignette. This is a scene from my ongoing series of vignettes
exploring the daily lives of my Guardians.
For those new to the series, this is Blaéz and Darci’s story.
Blaéz is a fallen god from the Celtic pantheon, now mated to a human, Darci, whom he
loves more than his own life…
This scene takes place soon after their story ends in Breaking Fate.
Here’s a peep into their lives after the HEA…

***

Title:Guardian’s Remedy 2.1

A slice of life short

 

 

Darci paused at the entrance of the bathroom door, raking back her damp, honey-brown hair. Her breath caught as at the sight of her mate dressing—the man responsible for her current state of ragged breaths.

Tall, powerfully built, and with cropped ebony hair, Blaéz glanced at her as he pulled on a black t-shirt, covering that sexy body. Leathers encased strong, powerful thighs. But it was his eyes—now a beautiful cobalt blue—that held her attention.

It was still a shock to see them when they’d once been as pale as winter’s snow.

“I’m never going to make my meeting you walk around like that.”

At the soft, accusatory tone, She blinked. Then laughed. “I can’t exactly take a shower with clothes on…not that you were complaining a few minutes ago.”

“True.” A smile tugged that sinfully sensual mouth that could do magical things to her body.

Heck, he’d trapped her against the shower wall, teasing and stroking her, then he’d licked and nipped—hell, he’d just plain tormented her until she was a mindless mess of needs before he sank deep into her and let her come all over him. Yes, her man was ace in making her lose all control.

Blaéz sat on the chest and tugged on his boots, and with an utterly male look, his gaze drifted over her.

“A leannan, you in a towel, naked beneath it, is like a drug to me.”

“Aww, poor baby,” she teased him. “So don’t look at me, and just leave for your meeting.”

“Then I might as well stop breathing.” Blaéz rose to his feet and crossed to her. Cupping her face in his callused palms, he pressed his mouth to hers in a hard kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

Darci quickly slid her arms around his neck, stopping him. Dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’ll be here, waiting… Naked.”

He stilled. Eyes narrowed. He dropped his hands and grasped her by the upper arms. “Behave. I can’t go out there with a damn—fuck!” He nipped her lower lip with a sharp, punishing bite.

“Aww—that hurt!” She scowled and pulled back, licking the sore spot.

“And I have a damn hard on,” he muttered, yet his blue eyes glowed, gone all primal now. He kissed her once more, his tongue gliding over her abused lip. Then without another word, he stalked out of the dressing room to his meeting with the archangel and the other Guardians.

Grinning, Darci made her way to her closet, and then grimaced, a slight twinge squeezing her belly as she changed into pale blue pajama bottoms and a white tank top.

 

***

 

Ugh! Unable to relax, Darci tossed her book on the coffee table and pushed to her feet, and paced around the couch in the private study of their quarters a half hour later.

She rubbed her knotting stomach, the small ache from earlier gathering momentum. The spasm shooting through her belly still wouldn’t ease. No longer able to ignore it, she made her way to the bathroom.

God, she hated this time of the month.

She yanked opened the vanity cupboard and found a bottle of pain pills. Opened it. Darn, only one left. As she swallowed it with some water, she eyed the cabinet. She set the glass down and searched through it. Dammit! How on earth did she forget to buy more?

But then with everything that had happened in the past few weeks, meeting Blaéz and the upheaval that followed, her heart still stuttered remembering how badly it nearly ended for her and Blaéz, so no wonder she’d forgotten.

Stifling her groan and rubbing her stomach, she went back to the study, lowered to the couch, and picked up her cell from the coffee table. She texted Echo who was still in the Village, visiting her Gran.

Could you get me a box of tampons and a bottle of ibuprofen on your way back, please? The cramps are killing me.

She ended with a sad face emoji.

Blaéz was still downstairs in his meeting with Michael and the others. They would be heading out on patrol soon. But if he sensed she was in pain, he’d be here in a heartbeat and she didn’t want to distract him, not with the kind of job he had—killing supernatural evil. Dangerous and extremely deadly.

Keeping her mind-link to him shut, so he wouldn’t pick up on anything, she retrieved her book when her cell beeped with an instant return text. What’s wrong?

She stared blankly at the message. Blaéz? Oh. Shit!

Groaning at her faux pas, she typed again, except a shimmer took form, probably because she hadn’t responded fast enough for him.

Blaéz crossed to her. Concern realigning the sculptured lines of his handsome face, he crouched in front of her, his leathers creaking a little. His tee stretched across the muscular width of his shoulders and his thick biceps bulged, drawing her gaze to the mystical sword tattooed there. He rested his palms beside her hips on the couch.

Heat crowding her cheeks, Darci wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry, that was meant for Echo.”

He reached out and smoothed the pain lines on her brow. “What is it, a leannan?”

She rubbed her flushed face. “It’s nothing really…it’s er”—how the heck did she explain this to him? —“that time of the month. I’ll be okay soon…”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, as if processing her words, then he removed her hand and laid his palm on her stomach. She could feel the slight warmth of his healing powers sweeping through her. His brow creased, his expression troubled. “I cannot heal this…”

“Don’t worry—” aww crap, she broke off, as another spasm speared through her tummy and straight to her back, “It’s normal,” she gasped, not doing a very good job of reassuring her extremely worried mate. When she could breathe again, she smiled. “I’m fine, really. It’s just something women go through, some suffer more than others.”

He was silent for several seconds, his gaze searching hers then he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss on her knuckles. Pushing to his feet, he walked out.

Hmmm, Darci had no idea what to make of that. Sending her text message to Echo and making double sure it wasn’t any of the warriors, she lay down on the couch, curled into a ball, and closed her eyes, hoping the single pain pill would ease her horrible cramps.

 

***

 

At the sound of paper crackling, her eyes flickered open. Darci had no idea how much time had passed, only aware of the pain curling through her like a nagging toothache.

Her gaze lit on Blaéz. She blinked and sat up. Wide-eyed, she watched as he set a pharmacy packet on the table and another large paper bag near it. The hot water bottle wrapped in a towel, he left on the couch.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, bewildered.

In response, he crouched in front of her again, handed her a glass of apple juice, with another tablet. After she’d swallowed that with her drink, he rose and crossed to the television. Looking through the pile of her DVDs she had stacked on a shelf, he selected one, slipped the disc into the player, and came back to her. He sat down, picked her up, and settled her on his lap, his arms wrapped around her.

Darci eased back a little, stared at him in confusion. “You’re supposed to be on patrol.”

“You need me more. The others will call, if there’s an emergency.” He pressed his lips to her brow and gave her the hot water bottle. “I wrapped that up, it felt too hot. Here—” reaching out, he pulled out a box of Belgian truffles from the paper bag and set it next to her. “You like those.”

Oh… Tears crowded her eyes.

The man made her fall in love with him all over again.

“How do you know all this—what to do?”

“Google. I can’t stand to see you in pain,” he said quietly, brushing a curling strand away from her face. “I have what you need, in there.” He nodded to the pharmacy package.

No, he was all she needed. She hugged him tightly, then peered into the packet. Tampons.

Breathing deeply, she eased back into his arms and held the hot water bottle against her sore stomach. God, her man made her want to bawl. And in this emotional state, with her fluctuating hormones, it was guaranteed.

Blaéz took the remote from the table and switched on the digital player. The opening scene of Buffy came on…and there was Spike tailing Buffy through the cemetery.

Darci huffed out a laugh and looked back at Blaéz. She doubted he’d intentionally chosen that one. “You don’t like this show.”

Those beautiful blue eyes met hers. “I don’t like that you like that bleach-haired wanker, but since you like this series, I’ll endure.”

Her heart tripped. Pressing a kiss to his jaw, she snuggled into his embrace and rested her head on his chest. She slid her arm around his waist. “I love you.”

He rubbed his cheek against her hair, his hand slid beneath her tank top, his thumb tracing small circles on her waist. “There are no words for what I feel for you, a leannan,” he whispered. “But I love you will have to suffice.”

New Release: Shattered Dawn-excerpt

FALLEN GUARDIANS #5: Nik and Shadow’s book is almost here!

A destiny written in darkness, a love that won’t be denied…’

COVER: Montana Jade

 

BLURB

Bound to a malevolent curse…

Solitary warrior Nikkos ices his emotions to survive the rampaging evil trapped within him—his only gratification is hunting and destroying demons. When guardian duty leads him to infiltrate a trafficking ring, he collides with a feisty human who stirs his long-dead heart. There is no place in his violent life for this beautiful crusader, yet Nik cannot deny his pull to the provoking female. She’s the lone spark that ignites his indestructible armor.

A past lost, a future uncertain…

With no memories of her former life and surrounded by enemies, Shadow takes refuge in the hazardous maze beneath the city. But it doesn’t stop her from trying to save the other lost souls who congregate there. Then a maddening, hardcore immortal storms into her life, throwing her world off-balance. Despite her unexpected attraction to the sexy, tattooed Guardian, Shadow cannot let him close, not when her very nature makes her one of the creatures he’s sworn to destroy.

A destiny that won’t be denied…

No matter their mile-high barriers, a dark hunger burns, drawing them closer. But their very happiness is threatened when danger finds Shadow and their enemies strike, propelling Nik and Shadow into battles unlike any ever faced, with an end neither could have foreseen…

***

Editorial Review:

‘Another great installment in the Fallen Guardians series. Nik is made of Awesome, and Shadow is an appealing, tough heroine. The intricate layers of emotional tension will keep the reader turning pages, seeking out this couple’s Happily Ever After.’  C. Breslin

Pre-order: AMAZON US | UK | CA |AU

KOBO | NOOK | iBOOKS | SMASH

Chapter 1

Three…two…one!

Bells tolled midnight, their dissonance ringing in the New Year as snowflakes floated down. Distant cheers resonated from central New York, miles away to where Nik roamed a dank alley in the Fish Market area.

For the denizens of this world, it represented a time for renewed resolutions, expectation, and optimism, a shining future to look forward to.

Him? Same shit, different year.

Sulfur. Hunt. Kill.

But with most of the festive mortals congregating in Time Square, demoniis were a no-show in the alleyways. The soul suckers were probably hibernating for the night, given the lack of prey in these passageways.

Uninterested in hanging around and listening to the humans’ merriment, Nik headed deeper into the slushy alley. But having to fit in with humans togged to their eyeballs, he retrieved his skullcap from his coat pocket and pulled it over his buzzed hair.

An eerie sensation slid over his already iced-up psyche. Nik slowed. The chilly night air tasted acrid…sulfur. Demons. Perfect.

Nik dematerialized and followed the strain, taking form in the industrial area and near a war zone. Shrieks from humans and demons fighting ricocheted off the brick buildings and blasted his ears. The dark energy residing within him stirred in anticipation. He stood there for a second, watching some of his fellow Guardians wading through the ruckus like bare-knuckled boxers, unable to use their mystical weapons or powers with humans about, to kill the supernatural shits.

Good thing they still had fists, and Nik relished in getting up close and personal.

With preternatural speed, he blurred and dove between two scuffling figures. He sent the human stumbling away with a mind-shove and rammed his fist into the demon’s face.

What’s all this about? he telepathed Týr.

Who the hell knows with these dumb shits? “Fucking hate this time of the year!” the Norse growled out loud. “You think they would simply enjoy the New fuckin’ Year and chill since they chose to live on this realm, but no, the dickheads just have to stir up shit—”

“Fuck you, too,” the Otium demon snarled. “No one gets in on our turf and swings their dicks here.”

“Oh, motherfucka,” Týr taunted, an evil grin spreading. “Bring it on.”

His danger radar buzzing, Nik spun around with an airborne kick, sending the demon hurtling at him face-first into the brick wall.

Gang wars were the bane of the city’s slums, and these Otium idiots always ended up dragging the Guardians into their territorial fracas with the humans. He scanned for Dagan. Where the fuck was he?

Nik telepathed him. Need to clean up this shitfest and do a mind sweep of humans fast before the local authorities wind up here. He ducked a knife flung at him. Or we’re in a fuckload of trouble—

Dagan appeared, moving through the chaos faster than a speeding bullet, his bronze features molded in stone.

The humans instantly detached themselves from the fight and strolled off as if without a care. Yeah, Dag was ace in mass-clearing the memories of idiotic mortals who had no clue as to what they went up against in these battles.

But the demons remained, seeking vengeance.

Grunts and thuds ricocheted in the frigid backstreet as the fight continued. A sinister hiss sounded, Nik pivoted and ducked a hellfire bolt flying past him, inches from demolishing half his skull. Growling, he flashed and grabbed the demon’s arm, twisting the appendage behind the idiot’s back. “Really?”

The scourge’s thin face darkened, lips twisting, eyes streaked red. “As long as you’re dead, I don’t care.”

“You wanna test that theory?” Nik bent the arm harder, and the demon shrieked. “Here’s the thing. Unlike my fellow Guardians, I don’t give a fuck who sees me destroying you. Unfortunately for you. I. Cannot. Die.”

In the gloomy alley, Nik let his corporeal self morph into a gray, misty shape, becoming one with the darkness. One of his weird-ass abilities—to take on a smoky serpentine shape—courtesy of his mātā’s protection spell as an infant. Wispy tentacles slithered around the demon, trapping him.

“Try to leave…” Nik’s voice lowered, indistinct amidst the uproar. “I dare you. And I’ll show you how easily I can sssuck the life out of you fuckersss,” His sibilant tone became eerier in this form, his amorphous hold constricting the demon like a smoky boa.

“No, no…” His teeth clacked. “Let go…”

“Just so you know, dark sssouls are my delicacy,” Nik lied. “Enlighten me as to why you’d bring notice to yourself in thisss realm?”

“It’s over t-territory,” the demon whimpered. “They accuse us of trespassing on their turf.”

“Usss? ”

“Hade’s Disciples.”

“With a name like that, can you blame them?” Nik grunted, reforming once more. “Now, the real reason. Lie, and I will snuff out your pathetic life.”

Terror leached the color from the demon’s face. “Their women have gone missing. The Vipers claim we took ‘em.”

Nik pinned the demon with a bored stare, running his tongue piercing against the roof of his mouth. Truth.

He let him go, and the skatá took off like the wind. Nik was aware of homeless kids being abducted, but not females.

Thwack! The dull sound of a gunshot, one muffled with a silencer, echoed.

Seriously? Gun wounds weren’t lethal to Guardians or demon-kind, merely irritants, but to humans, they could be fatal.

A female moaned in pain, distracting him. His gaze snapped toward the cry just as a swish sounded. Nik jerked back, barely avoiding the dagger swinging inches from his carotid. He flung out his hand, releasing an ice spear, nailing the pest in the torso.

The demon stumbled and glanced at the lance sticking out of his chest. Snorting, he grabbed the ice, broke off the end, and laughed. “Is that all you have, Guardian? This useless ability? At least it’s not the Detonator or the one with the Blitz.”

So, the idiot knew of Blaéz, and Aethan. That didn’t surprise him. The former killed with a thought, and the latter leveled everything to ashes in seconds with his power of whitefire.

“I have a casualty—” Týr’s clipped voice drifted from afar. “I’m getting her outta here.”

Nik’s focus remained on the smirking demon. “Then you should have wished it was one of them who got you. Me…” He shrugged, watching the piece of ice sticking out of the demon’s chest burrowed into him like a worm. “I like the time it takes to die.”

After all, he’d died many times, each one slow and agonizing.

The demon’s brow scrunched. A spasm of coughing broke free. Terror twisted his face. He scratched at his throat, struggling for breath. Nik watched impassively as the demon slowly froze into an icy statue, crimson-streaked dark eyes taking on the cloudy hue of death.

Nik walked up close, and with a flick of his finger, the statue shattered. A dark, churning fog slid out of the ice-crushed demon, hovered—shit. Nik hastily leaped out of the way, but the soul slammed straight into him instead of being pulled down into Purgatory.

Fuuuuck, he grunted, lurching back, panting like he’d run the planet a million times over as the rest of the fragmented ice, mixed with gore and plasma, began to dissipate into the ground.

He just had to be the one bastard who drew dead demon’ souls like a fuckin’ sponge. It was why he usually avoided standing in direct line of the departing life-forces. With no way of getting rid of them, his body twitched and shuddered. Shit. Nik rubbed his face, struggling to tighten his psychic shields before the ones he already harbored escaped.

As the commotion in the alley died down, Blaéz’s hard voice cut through the endless, agitating darkness consuming Nik. “This is worse than we thought. Someone from those damn gangs is abducting human females and selling them to demons.”

“The Arc’s gonna go batshit,” Dagan grunted.

“A great way to welcome the New fucking Year,” Aethan growled.

“Greek, anything from the asshole you decimated?” Blaéz called out.

“Nothing.” Nik dropped his hand. “Later,” he rasped. Teeth gritted against the malevolent souls battering his mind, he dematerialized before the others sensed something was off.

Hell, he was a walking hazard—a fucking time bomb. And this was why he preferred working alone. If he did shatter, then no casualties.

 

***

 

Nik reformed again. A sharp breeze blew, sending flurries swirling, enveloping him with a chill he didn’t feel. The crisp smell of greenery and fir crowded his nose. Head lowered, his mind held in a haze, he tramped across the snow-covered ground, his boots crunching through the layer of white while he tried to get his thoughts back on track, hoping the silence here would override the perilous agitation within.

Tall trees surrounded him, edging rows upon rows of tombstones. Only two places he ended up after nights like these when his mind felt as if it would explode into fragments. Here at the East River cemetery or the old ruined church in Hudson Valley.

A handful of humans remained huddled near headstones.

Dammit. With him teetering on the edge of his sanity, he needed the place to quiet down—didn’t want to sense their beckoning bright souls when his own was undoubtedly as dark as the ones trapped in him.

Nik slowed his steps. There, in his spot, three rows down, near a gravestone, stood a human.

Go, rip out his sssoul, the cloying voices stroked his mind. Take his light. Feassst—

Fuck off.

Jaw tensing, Nik shoved his fists into the pockets of his leather coat. Only his ingrained Guardian oath kept his feet nailed down as he waited for the mortal to haul ass and get out. But like all prey, he remained glued to the spot, clueless of the danger enclosing him.

The human finally shuffled toward him, pulling the hoodie of his coat over his dark hair. As he neared Nik, he glanced up, revealing wet blue eyes.

No, not a man, but an adolescent. A boy of seventeen or so.

He quickened his pace, shoulders hunching as if sensing danger, which showed he possessed some common sense. Yeah, it was good the boy veered to the side of caution.

A sweet flowery fragrance drifted to Nik, dragging his attention back to the tombstone the human had visited. Fresh roses lay scattered on the pedestal.

As if on autopilot, Nik lowered to the ground, back resting against a monument, and he examined the ornate engraving of the name on the gray marble headstone.

Olivia Montgomery

She shouldn’t have died. Now her blood stained his hands, too.

Help me…

The old echoes plowed through his ice-coated thoughts, dredging up remorse he usually never felt. At his stir of emotions, the insidious souls trapped in him rammed at his psychic shields. His momentary guilt vanished, and he clamped down on his shaky mind shields. As if he’d ever let them free to inhabit humans and cause a bloodbath again.

You think my remorse a weakness? Too fucking bad, you’re stuck inside me forever—

At the stark reminder that he would never be what he once was after being incarcerated in that hellhole, Tartarus, Nik gritted his teeth. He let his cryokinesis abilities freeze his emotions, down to his very own soul.

It made him an emotionless rock. He cared little. He didn’t need feelings to function. His only job was to destroy all evil and keep this realm and its humans safe.

Tipping his head back against the headstone, Nik shut his eyes…

Tingles of approaching dawn brought him back to awareness, the spinning darkness inside him barely tamped down. Night still cloaked the cemetery. A fine layer of powdery snow covered everything, including him. The cold didn’t affect him. He was a living, breathing entity of all that was ice and shadows.

Nik rose from the frozen ground and dematerialized back to the castle on the private landmass on Long Island Sounds, reforming on the portico of the mammoth, ivy-covered fortress, the Guardians’ home base. He did a quick scan of the snow-covered gardens and the surrounding area. All appeared quiet.

He pulled off his skullcap, removed his leather coat, then opened the massive, wooden front door, and strode into the marbled foyer decked with verdant potted plants and old armors. The soft, recessed ceiling lights underscoring the stained-glass windows etched with angels, knights, and their ladies, momentarily pulled him into a utopia where love endured forever.

But not for him.

His path lay in darkness.

Shrugging off whatever miasma had snagged his head within its whimsical clutches, Nik flashed to his second-floor quarters in the north wing. He strode through the small entrance hall and into a spacious, gloomy bedroom, tossed his outerwear on the padded end-of-bed bench, and dropped flat on the mattress. Exhaling roughly, he threw his arm over his eyes, wishing he could simply zone out. But the haze that should take him under remained just beyond his reach as usual, not that he tried very hard.

Mostly, he didn’t care. He simply existed in a space of nothingness.

No sleep.

No rest.

No peace or hope for an effed-up bastard like him.

The roiling within him hiked, and he clenched down on his teeth. He needed to haul ass back to Romania soon. The Arc would figure out he was sliding again and that the isolation he needed for a few days would become imperative. Not much he could do about that.

Faint voices from the ground floor coasted to him, followed by feminine laughter.

Nik shut them out.

His cell beeped. All the Guardians here were mated and currently occupied. Race was back in Romania, and he didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything. Whoever it was could fuck off—

An odd sensation crept over his psyche.

Nik stilled.

Slowly, he lowered his arm from his face. Something had changed in his usually dead as a doornail quarters. A scent wafted to him…no, not the sweet-smelling roses he’d gotten a whiff of at the cemetery, but one that made the block of ice in his chest shudder. A fragrance reminiscent of spring…of wildflowers—

Nik shot up from the bed and flashed out of the room, tracking the scent. He flew down the stairs, scaling over the balustrade to land on the first floor.

Kira, Týr’s mate, emerged from the left wing, shoving back her unbound, springy auburn hair. She cut him a harried smile before hurrying down the grand staircase to the ground floor. Movement snagged his attention. A strange, dark-haired female, wearing an overlong t-shirt revealing an expanse of long, pale legs stumbled out of a bedroom. She lurched along the corridor, dragging her palm on the wall as if to hold herself upright.

Hell, he had no idea what he was doing chasing after a fragrance.

The souls within him stirred, undoubtedly drawn to the shiny bright light in her.

Not fucking happening.

About to take off, a pained moan escaped the female, and she crumpled. In preternatural speed, Nik moved and caught her before she face-planted on the floor. Guess his chivalrous instinct still floated somewhere inside his dead-cold self.

This close, her scent hit him like a fist to the gut, stunning him senseless. Wildflowers merged with an undertone of…acrid woodsmoke?

A small shaky hand pushed at his chest, hauling him back to her. “Unless you plan to fight me, female, it’s back to bed for you.”

Her head snapped up. Shiny black hair streaked with purple cascaded down her back in a silky waterfall, revealing the dressing on the side of her brow. Remnants of black make-up smeared around her striking eyes, highlighting irises the colors of a starburst, reds and blues speckling a velvety-brown background. They glittered like neon stars in her pale face.

“No—” the word tore free in a harsh breath. She thumped his chest, shaking her head impatiently as if to make him understand. About what, he had no idea. I-I have to go,” she rasped.

Her husky voice stroked his senses like a gravelly caress, throwing Nik for a loop, and he stiffened. “You can barely walk. If you plan to crawl outta here, be ma guest.”

At his acerbic tone, the claret flecks in her irises blazed. She yanked his shirt with a strength that surprised him. Buttons snapped, pinging everywhere. “You can’t keep me here, you big jerk. Lemme go!”

Uninterested in more of her theatrics, Nik scooped her into his arms, simply wanting to dump her in bed and leave. He didn’t like being touched, yet he endured the intrusion.

“No-no—” She lashed out again.

“Behave. Or I will tie you to the bed.”

She went deathly still. Fear leaked off her, sharp and acrid.

Yeah, he was a moody, psychotic asshole. Good she knew this upfront.

She whimpered and buried her face in his chest, startling him.

Hell, he wouldn’t have hurt her. He’d said that so she wouldn’t injure her hands hitting him. Then he became aware of her palm pressed flat on his naked chest. An odd sensation crawled through him, pulling at his psyche—even the rioting souls slowed their demented battering. Her touch awakened a primal need. One he’d hadn’t experienced in eons. And it nailed him square in the groin.

What the fuck?

Teeth clenched, he strode into the bedroom and set her on the mattress, willing her to sleep. He did a quick scan of her and picked up her slight psychic vibe, and nothing more. For a human, she had damn strong shields. Maybe this was what rubbed him up all wrong?

Kira darted inside, eyes widening in panic. “What happened?”

As if he could answer her when he had no damn clue himself.

He shrugged. “Found her wandering in the hallway, moments from collapsing. Who is she?”

“My friend, Shadow.” Kira set a tea tray on the side table. Worried hazel eyes briefly met his before lowering to the girl. “Týr brought her here earlier. She got grazed by a bullet.”

Hazily, he recalled a female caught in the middle of the gang war while he’d been busy playing Death. With their short life span, humans really had no self-preservation.

Kira pulled the covers to the woman’s chest and gently brushed back her purple-streaked hair.

Nik studied her pale, delicate features. Faint purplish circles shadowed her eyes as if she didn’t sleep, then he frowned at the fading yellow bruise marring her cheekbone. Someone would dare harm a fragile woman?

You failed one.

Right. His mouth thinned.

Just as well this female was Týr’s and Kira’s responsibility.

He only fucked up things.

Nik headed for the door, clenching and unclenching his fingers, the sensation of her warmth lingering on his skin. He glanced back at Kira. “What’s her name?”

“Shadow.”

“No, her true name.”

“I don’t know…” Kira scrunched her brow. “If she has one, she’s never said.”

Nik nodded and walked out.

There was something—hell, so many things about her puzzling him.

No mortal or immortal had ever affected him, because nothing penetrated the innate coldness inside him. Yet, she’d dragged him over by her scent alone. But she was human, and yet she didn’t feel like one…but something more.

He didn’t like paradoxes.

No matter, he’d find out the truth soon enough.

Chapter 2

Five months later…

 

Summer heat rose from the backstreet in lower Manhattan. The stench of piss and garbage stung Nik’s sensitive nose, the downside of patrolling the alleys.

He hunkered down near the grimy wall of a brick building, arms braced on his leather-clad thighs, and bolted his mind shields against the growing ruckus of the dark souls inside him. His thoughts back on the dark-haired female, Shadow.

It had been several months and still no sign of her after she’d left the castle the very next day. Hedori had said he’d driven her to the Lower East Side, where she asked to be dropped off near a Starbucks—which didn’t help much.

He’d searched the alleys, since it was where she’d been shot, and nothing. Hell, he should just forget her—but she’d caused a chink in his armor, drawn him, and he needed to understand why.

The space near him shimmered. At the familiar brush on his psyche, yup, his days of solitude had ended.

Dagan, his fellow warrior and friend, took form a short distance away.

The Sumerian strolled over, his warrior braids flowing down his back like black whips. Yellow eyes skimmed him. “Haven’t seen you around recently.” He crouched next to Nik. “You okay?”

“Are we ever?” Nik asked, watching a homeless man wandering along the opposite side, looking for a place to bunk down.

Dagan exhaled roughly. “None of us came out of that hellhole unscathed, so I get you. You need me, I’m here.”

Nik caught his tongue piercing with his teeth and remained silent.

“Is it the souls?”

Damn. He rubbed his inked biceps at the Sumerian’s persistence. “Let it go, Dag.”

Sure, they all had their own demons to live with. But admit to his friend he was teetering the edge again—a walking threat they let around their precious mates? Yeah, no. “I’m good.”

“Tartarus altered us all in one way or another.” Dagan’s mouth thinned briefly, revealing the tips of his fangs, his own changes, courtesy of the Creator-forsaken place. “I more than anyone know this.”

Tartarus.

Just the name and the malevolence in him stirred like chittering beetles scurrying all over him, claws digging, looking for ways to escape their prison. Escape him.

Yeah, safer for everyone if he kept his distance.

After a minute, he murmured, “You ever think this is why the Arc kept us crazies isolated in Romania?”

“You mean you, Race, and me?” Dagan asked wryly. “I guess we are the riskier ones.”

Nik didn’t respond, his attention fixed on the ghostly shapes—shadow demons—lurking in the gloom of the building, drawn to the churning darkness in him. Like he didn’t have enough shit to deal with.

“I got your back,” Dagan said quietly. “You’ve always had mine. And so do the others.” He rose, stepped into the shadows, and dematerialized.

Yells erupted a short distance up the alley. A herd of humans kitted out in leather, metal, and spiky hair congregated just past a bikers’ den. Goths.

Someone threw a punch, and a scuffle started, the shouting and snarling spiking.

Nik pushed to his feet and leaned against the building behind him, arms folded over his chest, watching the idiots battle it out. He could leave, but he cooled his heels and waited, knowing what would soon stalk these idiotic mortals. The supernatural bane to humanity would be drawn to the vicious fighting, then his fun would begin.

A ginger, scraggly, one-eyed feline sidled alongside the grimy wall opposite Nik, its attention on the dumpster farther down the alley. The cat suddenly froze, staring at something it sensed, but Nik already felt. The familiar icy prickles scraped along his spine, and the mystical, Gaian sword tattoo imprinted on his biceps stirred. Demoniis. Damn soul suckers were right on track, slithering toward the tussling humans.

Nik straightened, tracking the vibe halfway down the dead-end alley. Three of them. About to flash and deal with the fuckers, movement flickered atop a looming warehouse farther down the alley, and Nik paused.

A hooded figure lowered to a crouch on the roof, staring into the alley, then he sprang up and jumped easily to the next building and then the next, getting closer…to the demoniis?

Eyes narrowed, Nik watched the dark figure scale down the drainpipe like a spider monkey and suddenly appeared behind a demonii. Daggers in both hands flashed dully under the silver moonlight. The hooded form moved incredibly fast, one blade slicing across the carotid, the other ramming straight in the heart.

The demonii gurgled and collapsed to the ground, rapidly disintegrating into dust. The other one growled, rushing for the crusader who sidestepped as if he’d woven tai chi into his tae-kwon-do attacks, ending the soul sucker in the same seamless fashion with blades flashing.

Human. His aura glowed like a damn light bulb.

As the mortal chased after the final fleeing demonii, heading away from Nik, the night air serrated into an agitating portal at the dead-end alley. Massive reddish-black demons poured out. Nik stilled.

He’d never seen shitheads like these before. Their dense sulfuric odor roiled even his iron-clad stomach. What the fuck were they doing on this domain, besides destroying the mystical veils guarding the mortal world with their forbidden entrance?

He had to deal with this before shit flew.

Aethan, he telepathed the warrior he sensed closest to him. Get the others here. We have a situation! While he could probably take them all, there were humans in this vicinity. It wouldn’t do to draw attention to this horror or accidentally kill the mortals in the fracas that would arise.

A scaly demon lumbered forward, swiping at Nik with its huge fist, and he jumped back, narrowly missing having his face slashed open from lethal black talons. The thing spat. Dammit! He hastily ducked, avoiding the spittle attack, and shot up into the air. He grabbed the eight-foot-tall scourge’s head, ramming him face-first into the brick wall. Bones crunched. Growls erupted. As Nik landed on his feet, he summoned an ice lance and hurled it at the demon barging toward him, nailing him in the chest.

A feminine curse exploded nearby.

What the fuck?

Nik spun around. With shit flying all around them, he couldn’t find the human.

Dammit. Before the female got hurt, he shot out several ice arrows with a flash of his hand, freezing the menaces. The humid air displaced. Aethan and Dagan took form. They flew into the melee, their black Gaian swords swinging.

Nik barely evaded a swipe of talons to the head, searching the ruckus for the woman.

“Where in Ater’s Hell did these fuckers come from?” Aethan growled, plunging his weapon deep into a demon’s belly.

“No idea. Gotta go!” Nik shot back. “A human saw the entire damn thing.” He had to do a mind scrub.

He scanned the area for movements. There, up the alley, a figure bolted.

Surprise rocked him. The fighter in the hoodie was female?

She grabbed a drainpipe and climbed the thing as effortlessly as she’d descended earlier.

Nik sprinted after her, then skidded to a halt.

Why the fuck was he chasing her?

He dematerialized to the roof, reforming just as she appeared on top. She lashed out with a kick, and he grabbed her booted ankle before it made contact with his balls.

If he were human, she’d probably have had him on his knees. Grunting in displeasure, he yanked her closer. With the hoodie of her baggy black sweater pulled low over her face, it revealed a glimpse of creamy pale skin and lush lips flattened in ire.

Deadly iron blades flashed from both her hands. One pressed against his carotid, the other nicking him in the chest, over his heart. This tiny female would dare attack him when the top of her head barely reached his shoulders? “Go ahead.”

She growled, then her other foot rammed into his belly. Using him as a springboard, she catapulted like an acrobat and broke free. Nik dove and grabbed her wrists. Cuffing those dangerous hands behind her back, he hauled her to him. Her back slammed into his front. And she grunted in ire.

Nik tightened his grip, preventing her escape, too aware of a very feminine body pressed up against him. The scent of wildflowers with a hint of woodsmoke crowded his nose—

It was her.

Five months had passed since she’d fled from the castle, and he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her. And here she was. Finally, he would find out who—what the hell she was—and why she pulled such a visceral reaction from him. He swung her around, keeping her wrists cuffed.

“Lemme go!”

Her husky voice crawled through him, searing his mind once more.

Despite the hoodie blocking her face, he could clearly see another ugly purple contusion marring her jaw, and the bruise he’d seen months ago made sense. Not abused, just doing shit she damn well shouldn’t. “You’re hurt.”

“Hitting the wall face-first during a fight, it’s gonna happen,” she retorted, tugging at her hands again. “Let me go, you inked weasel!”

He studied her delicate chin and flat mouth. “Not until we’ve had a little chat.”

She continued to fight him, trying to break free of his iron-clad grip. At this rate, she’d cause more bruises to herself.

“Stop fighting me.” He hardened his tone and tightened his hold fractionally, making his point. “You won’t escape, but you will hurt yourself. Explain why you ran from the castle?”

A low, very feminine snarl erupted. “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. I didn’t run. I simply left.” The next second, she moved, her knee shot up—

Fuuuck! Pain exploded. Nik stumbled back, agony shredding his balls. She took off across the roof and dropped from the edge of the building in a free fall.

Struggling to inhale air back into his lungs, Nik dematerialized and went after the little terror, anger, and lust warring in him. When he got his hands on her, he would—

He stopped dead. The sloped rooftop of the shorter building below was empty. Nothing moved, not even the vermin in the dark silent alley.

Again, she’d disappeared like the damn breeze.

I likesss her, his usually silent, serpent companion suddenly hissed.

“Shut up,” Nik muttered.

 

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Cover Reveal: Shattered Dawn ~ Fallen Guardians #5

A destiny written in darkness, a love that wouldn’t be denied…’

Title: Shattered Dawn

Series: Fallen Guardians #5

Release date: Nov 24th, 2020

 

COVER: Montana Jade

 

BLURB

Bound to a malevolent curse…

Solitary warrior Nikkos ices his emotions to survive the rampaging evil trapped within him—his only gratification is hunting and destroying demons. When guardian duty leads him to infiltrate a trafficking ring, he collides with a feisty human who stirs his long-dead heart. There is no place in his violent life for this beautiful crusader, yet Nik cannot deny his pull to the provoking female. She’s the lone spark that ignites his indestructible armor.

A past lost, a future uncertain…

With no memories of her former life and surrounded by enemies, Shadow takes refuge in the hazardous maze beneath the city. But it doesn’t stop her from trying to save the other lost souls who congregate there. Then a maddening, hardcore immortal storms into her life, throwing her world off-balance. Despite her unexpected attraction to the sexy, tattooed Guardian, Shadow cannot let him close, not when her very nature makes her one of the creatures he’s sworn to destroy.

A destiny that won’t be denied…

No matter their mile-high barriers, a dark hunger burns, drawing them closer. But their very happiness is threatened when danger finds Shadow and their enemies strike, propelling Nik and Shadow into battles unlike any ever faced, with an end neither could have foreseen…

***

Editorial Review:

‘Another great installment in the Fallen Guardians series. Nik is made of Awesome, and Shadow is an appealing, tough heroine. The intricate layers of emotional tension will keep the reader turning pages, seeking out this couple’s Happily Ever After.’ C. Breslin

Pre-order: AMAZON