Warrior Prince Page 4

  He was just about to press the switch when the door burst open and a wild-eyed man charged inside, a curved blade in hand.

  Chapter Four

  Oh no, it’s Rayne’s killer come to get us next.

  With a shriek, Nira jumped back, bumping into the sofa.

  Zohar drew his weapon, but the intruder whipped it from his hand with a flick of his sword.

  “Zohar, son of Ivar Thorald, do not fight me. I come on behalf of Primer Pedar.”

  The man had stringy dark hair, fierce eyes, and a definitive jaw, much like Viggo Mortensen’s character in Lord of the Rings. He wore his hair shoulder length, with two fine braids on either side of his face to keep it from his eyes.

  “Pedar sent you?” Zohar maintained eye contact and a combat-ready stance.

  “He hired me as your personal bodyguard. I am Lord Magnor of the Tsuran.”

  Zohar’s eyebrows soared. “The legendary tribe? I thought those were stories meant to frighten naughty children.”

  Magnor sneered. “Not so. We are quite real. I suggest you dismiss your woman so we can discuss certain issues.”

  “Excuse me, my name is Nira. And I’m not his woman.” She scowled at Zohar. “Don’t tell me he’s another friend of yours.”

  “No, he is not.” Zohar pushed a button on his security device, and the tips of the rods lit green. “You are inside my defense grid, so I hope you have a good reason for being here.”

  “That is confidential, rageesh.”

  “Do not call me that. Here, I am merely Zohar.”

  Magnor inclined his head. “As you wish.”

  “My men will soon join us for a strategy session. Nira Larsen is acting as our local guide.”

  “I see.” Magnor glanced back and forth between her and Zohar as though suspecting more than met the eye.

  Heat suffused her face. “Are you sure this guy had nothing to do with Rayne’s death? And where is he from? His accent is different than yours.”

  So were his clothes. Her glance spanned the man’s forest green cloak, clasped at one shoulder with a gold pin, his linen shirt, straight-legged trousers, and the scabbard looped across his hip.

  Magnor’s hawk-like gaze snared hers. “My kind heralds from the region beyond the Hills of Agoora, where snow can be seen on the distant peaks of the Great Crest.” His eyes flared yellow for an instant, or maybe she imagined it.

  “What mountain range is that? The Alps, or maybe the Himalayas?” A source of myth, as in tales of Shangri-La.

  Zohar shrugged. “She believes we are from a country called Karrell.”

  “Indeed?” Magnor smiled, but his face exhibited no mirth. “What will happen when she discovers the truth?”

  Nira turned an eagle eye on Zohar. “Yes, and just when are we getting to those explanations?”

  “When my men arrive.” Snapping his jaw closed, he retreated to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and grimaced at its empty interior.

  Male voices and laughter rang from the hallway.

  “If I’m not mistaken, here comes the gang now.” Nira smoothed her pants, wishing she’d had time to relax. She hadn’t even unpacked her new purchases.

  How could she, with Rayne lying dead in their suite?

  Her throat constricted. She didn’t envy Zohar having to break the news to his team.

  He deactivated the defensive perimeter, and his men trooped inside. The group halted as one at the sight of the caped man.

  “People, this is Lord Magnor of the Tsuran. Primer Pedar sent him for my protection.”

  “What for?” Dal shot his team leader a sardonic look. “You have us to serve you, rageesh, not that you cannot hold your own in a fight.”

  “Against a known enemy, yes. But against an unseen foe from within our own ranks, perhaps not. I can understand Pedar’s concern. Our friend Rayne has fallen victim to this traitor.”

  His pals dumped the groceries they’d brought onto the counter. Zohar motioned them toward the bathroom. Nira hung back, dreading their reaction but remaining within view. The men cried out in mixed dismay and sorrow as they caught sight of the downed warrior.

  Lord Magnor, peering over their shoulders, muttered a curse in a strange tongue. “Brethren of Karrell, protectors of the Drift, allow me to investigate this man’s death.”

  “We appreciate your sentiments, Lord Magnor.” Zohar loomed in the doorway. He stood tall, pride shadowing his tone. “But my team will track Rayne’s murderer.”

  “With your permission, sire, I’ll obtain a body scan before dissolution.” Paz’s drawl became more pronounced in his grief.

  Zohar gave a curt nod. “So be it.”

  Nira heard the pain in his tone. Distancing herself from their rituals, she busied herself unpacking the bags of food. She blinked rapidly, her lashes tipped with moisture.

  Male voices rose in unison as the men chanted a prayer. One tenor stood out among them, the others falling silent as he sang a poignant solo. A moment of silence ensued, followed by a bright flash of light.

  “It is done.” Zohar strode toward her with a long face. “We will eat to renew our strength and then begin our council.”

  Nira had little appetite but she stuffed down some barbecue flavored chicken, potato salad, and cole slaw.

  “This meat is tender.” Yaron licked his fingers. “It tastes like pamadore.”

  “What’s that?” Nira eyed him. She sat by the desk, using its surface as her dining table. Suspecting he’d been the soloist, she yearned to ask him about his singing abilities. How had he come to be a soldier instead of a vocalist?

  “Pamadore is a popular dish on Karrell.” Yaron regarded her with curiosity. “We breed the creatures on farms. What do you call this bird on your world?”

  “It’s chicken. Why do you talk like we live on different planets?”

  Zohar forestalled further questions with a wave. “Our meeting will begin. Gather around.”

  He waited while his men discarded their trash and settled down. They lounged against the wall or draped themselves over the furniture.

  Zohar’s turquoise eyes pinned her. “We are not from another country. We come from a world in a solar system many light-years from here.”

  Nira leapt to her feet. “Good joke, boys, but I’m not that naïve. I realize this isn’t your home turf, but you must be working with one of our federal agencies: the FBI, CIA, DEA, or maybe the ATF?”

  Zohar strode over, clapping a hand on her shoulder, while her mind denied what she’d heard.

  “Let me tell you a story.” His gentle tone made her quiver. “In the beginning, a race of creatures lived on Earth. When human civilization invaded their natural habitat, they retreated through a dimensional door to another world.”

  “Whoa.” She held up a hand. “Through a dimensional door?”

  “You are familiar with tales about your Bermuda Triangle, yes? Strange disturbances, unexplained disappearances? This region acts like your San Andreas Fault. It sits on a crack where plates collide, but they are not plates of earth’s crust. They are plates between dimensions.”

  “Oh, man.” She sank into her seat. Nothing that happened today jived with reality as she knew it. She’d watched History Channel shows on parallel universes, but hadn’t Zohar said he came from another planet?

  She shook her head. “I’m confused. First you say you’re from outer space, then you say other dimensions exist. Which is it, big guy?”

  He gave her a rueful smile, while his men murmured amongst themselves. Lord Magnor rolled his eyes and leaned against the kitchen counter.

  “I realize this is a lot for you to comprehend, little one. But it is essential for you to understand if you are to help us.”

  “Go on.” She swallowed.

  He paced the carpet, hands behind his back, an imposing figure with a regal bearing.

  “Every few decades, friction between the dimensional plates opens a portal. Those creatures I mentioned…they lived in harmony with nat
ure until mankind encroached upon their territory and chased them through the dimensional door to a world where forests were pristine and fields were fertile.”

  “O-kay, so they left Earth. Don’t tell me…those creatures were Trolleks.”

  He beamed at her. “Correct. Over the years, their resentment increased so that during natural rifts, they poured through the gateway to hunt people for slave labor.”

  “And that accounts for the disappearances in the Bermuda Triangle?” She thought of Flight 19 lost in 1945, and a ship called the USS Cyclops that vanished at sea.

  “Indeed.” Zohar paused, plowing his fingers through his hair. “These rifts don’t stay open for long. Normally, the event horizon produces a substance called cors particles. When their mass reaches critical level, the resultant pressure forces the rift to close. Thus the portals are self-limiting and seal on their own.”

  “So how is it different this time?”

  “The Trolleks have devised a means to keep the doorways open indefinitely.”

  “That’s not good.” Holy guacamole, was she off base. They weren’t foreign agents working with the government. Zohar’s team were some sort of vigilantes from another planet. “But why are you here? Why save Earth? What do you care if your world is light-years away?”

  “Good question.” He tilted his head. “With the portals remaining open, the accumulation of cors particles will breach the point of no return. The dimensional drift will widen, causing a massive shock wave that alters reality in all dimensions.”

  “Oh.”

  His expression sobered while his teammates grew quiet, listening. “We are Drift Lords because we have the ability to detect cors particles. We can tell when a rift has opened but not its exact location. Our scanners obtain that data. We had obtained an initial reading at Drift World before the Trolleks activated a jamming device. We must turn it off so we can find the portals through which the Trolleks enter this world.”

  “So that’s why you’re interested in the theme park?”

  His jaw clenched. “Correct. Locating these gateways is crucial. Then we have to figure out how the Trolleks are keeping the rifts open so we can seal them shut.”

  “There’s more than one place where they’re coming in?”

  “So we believe, but we will not know the details until we terminate their interference.”

  “That’s just great.” Nira sat frozen, trying to assimilate so much information. “These Trolleks, how are they able to jump in and out of sight so fast?”

  Please don’t tell me Trolleks have supernatural powers. It’s hard enough to accept multiple dimensions and heroes from outer space.

  “They have discovered how to maneuver vectors within the space-time curve, effectively parallel shifting themselves from one location to another. They can spatial shift inanimate objects, too, which gives them an advantage. In battle, they make micro-jumps to dodge enemy fire and can fling objects from afar.”

  “You said they capture humans, like they took Grace.”

  “They can only transport people who have been confounded.”

  “Tell me again what that means.”

  Zohar rubbed his chin. “It is similar to a hypnotic spell. Trolleks secrete a chemical substance that directly alters the human brain. They transmit it through touch. Confounding will eventually cause amnesia or madness.”

  She jumped to her feet. “Oh, no. We have to find Grace before she’s too far gone. What can I do to help?”

  Zohar’s appreciative gaze warmed her heart. “You can act as our guide so we avoid cultural blunders. More importantly, you possess the ability to resist confounding. If we can learn how you do this, it may aid others.”

  “My ears buzz when Trolleks are near.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Just as we are able to sniff cors particles, you may have some unique ability. This buzzing noise may be part of it.”

  “You think?” She mulled the possibilities. If they could determine what allowed her to fight a Trollek’s spell, perhaps a protective agent could be derived to immunize people.

  “Get on with it, rageesh.” Paz stretched his long legs while the others muttered their agreement. “He can be a bit long-winded,” the dimpled warrior told her.

  Zohar cast him a reproving glance before returning his attention to Nira. “We already know the Trolleks are interested in you. That makes you the best person to act as bait to get us into Drift World.”

  Chapter Five

  “What do you mean, I’ll act as bait?” Nira asked after the others left. Her eyes blazed as she faced Zohar in the front parlor. “I don’t think I like that idea.”

  The temptation to stroke her soft cheek made his fingers curl. “You have shown much strength and courage,” Zohar told her. “Such is a true warrior’s heart. You can do this.”

  “By offering myself to the enemy? Nuh-uh.”

  “You won’t be alone. We will provide backup. Come now, you have proven your resilience under fire.”

  “I suppose I could give it a try. After all, I have always been good at rolling with the punches,” she added with a shrug.

  “You perform in combat?” He looked at her askance before recalling the scene at her house. “I observed you struggling with that beast in your hallway, but I had no idea you were a trained fighter.”

  “Hey, by punches I only meant…it’s an expression.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “You know, a colloquialism. It means I can bounce back if I’m struck down…figuratively, not literally.”

  “Ah, I see.” He gave her a lopsided grin. In truth, he saw nothing except the glimmer of her large eyes, the fiery cast of her hair, and the lush shape of her lips. Their rosy hue contrasted to the pallor of her skin. Despite her brave words, the day had taken its toll.

  An uncommon surge of admiration swelled within his chest. She had lost her home, her dearest friend, and her possessions, and yet she didn’t complain. What more could he ask for from his newest teammate? Recruited with reluctance, she’d accepted the tasks put to her with alacrity.

  Stepping behind Nira, he placed his hands on her shoulders. She was tense as a longbow. He examined her neck, its graceful curve tempting him to nuzzle her nape. Her fine reddish hair lifted in short layers that had him longing to plough his hands through to feel its texture.

  He squeezed her taut muscles gently, urging her in a low voice to relax even as his own body went hard with need.

  “Be at ease, we are safe now,” he murmured in her ear.

  She pointed toward the sanitation facility. “I-I can’t go in there. Can we change rooms?”

  “I will see to it in the morning. We need to rest. Close your eyes, and let my fingers work their magic. I am told I have a soothing touch.”

  His mouth quirked up as she complied and he kneaded her muscles. All right, so soothing might not be the best word his lady friends would use, but that’s what Nira needed at the moment. He dug into the sensitive knots at her shoulders. Her low, female murmur of pleasure aroused him further. So did her scent, a floral fragrance that made him want to embrace her.

  “That feels so good. Please don’t stop.”

  Her breathy tone almost unraveled his control. When she swayed against him, their body contact set him on fire.

  Step away, before your hands slip lower.

  Unable to stop himself, he skimmed his fingertips up and down her arms. Her responsive shiver encouraged him more. Not only had it been a while since he’d enjoyed a woman’s pleasures, but this Earth woman possessed an allure he couldn’t resist.

  Giving in to his base urges even while cursing himself for his lack of restraint, he turned her to face him and lowered his head. Just one taste, and he’d clear his brain. Never mind those voices decrying him for his weakness.

  Nira didn’t protest when he melded his mouth to hers and pressed her close. Perhaps the heightened emotions of the day had left her craving comfort, because she wrapped her arms around him and r
eturned his kiss.

  Rational thought fled. When her lips parted, he thrust his tongue inside her welcoming warmth, savoring her moist heat and minted flavor. His lungs filled with lust-charged air as he heard her raspy breaths. The universe shrunk, until nothing remained except for their beating hearts and their joined mouths.

  A glow spread through him, unrelated to the bulge in his pants that strained for freedom. His vision tunneled, and he shut his eyes against a swirling mist. Locked in their embrace, he held tight as the very ground beneath them seemed to vanish and they hurtled into a confluence of time and space.

  A beeping sound impinged upon his consciousness, startling him back to reality. He released Nira, breaking their contact and their strange suspension in…whatever that place was. Her dazed expression reflected his own confusion.

  “My comm unit is chiming. I should answer.” He should also apologize for his behavior, but the words tripped on his tongue.

  “Sure. I, uh, I’ll get changed. Don’t worry about me.”

  Zohar answered the call in the sitting room to give her some privacy. Paz’s lazy drawl came on the line.

  “We’ve begun inquiries into Rayne’s death, rageesh. It’s possible he let his killer in, since your door hadn’t been forced open. We’re trying to gain access to the security recordings. They may tell us if another visitor from Karrell is present.”

  And if not, the killer could be one of you.

  Zohar didn’t voice his suspicions aloud. “Good work. Keep me informed.”

  “You took your time answering my page. I was getting worried.” Paz’s voice held a teasing note.

  Zohar cleared his throat. His mate’s irreverent attitude increased along with his use of slang. As their communications officer, Paz appeared to be adapting to the planet’s universal language faster than the rest of them.

  “No need. The lady has nothing to fear from me.” He spoke in a stiff tone, guilt assailing him for the kiss he’d stolen.

  Paz wouldn’t let it go. “We’ll rejoice when you find a lady worthy of being your queen.”

  “That shall never happen and you know why. Now set your mind to the task at hand instead of personal issues.”