A Warrior's Desire. Pamela Palmer

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A Warrior's Desire - Pamela  Palmer Mills & Boon Nocturne

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of the grass except the tuft beneath his feet. He reached down to feel the stuff and had gotten nothing more than the fleeting impression that it felt like the grass at home when the grass disappeared and he once more found himself on a bed of tiny pink flowers.

      Charlie’s skin raced with goose bumps. Kade had warned him that the two worlds didn’t follow the same laws of nature. He’d laugh at the understatement if he weren’t quite so shaken.

      The nearing voices pulled his attention away from the insta-garden beneath his feet and again he prayed none of the Esri possessed the ability to sense his energy. While every Esri had certain baseline abilities, each had unique gifts as well. Hell, most of their human descendants … the Sitheen … did too, with the unfortunate exception of his own line. Neither he nor Harrison had any special talents except for the inability to be enchanted which, all things considered, was really all that mattered.

      Still, it would have been nice to have had some magic at his disposal. Larsen foresaw death. Jack could speak with his Sitheen ancestors. Myrtle was a healer of prodigious skill. The Esri, Baleris, had been able to smell the power stones. And Zander, the Esri Kade had killed, had been able to sense power in others.

      If any of the approaching Esri possessed that ability, he was in trouble. Because if they could smell power, even the low-level power of a human’s life force, they’d know he was here.

      Pale heads broke the level of the rise. Charlie watched, barely breathing, as three male Esri wearing the same silver tunics and black cloaks he himself wore came fully into view. One of the three possessed the startling whiteness of both hair and skin that he’d come to associate with true Esri, but the other two just looked deathly pale. All three were fairly tall with lanky, rangy builds. Their hair varied in shade from stark white to white-blond.

      Though the air temperature was comfortable, a trickle of sweat rolled down Charlie’s neck as the trio neared, speaking Esrian gibberish. If they caught him, he was going to have to decide whether to run or grunt and thump his chest and hope they backed off, though why they’d be afraid of someone who’d been hiding in the bushes, he couldn’t fathom.

      The Esri neared, their voices growing louder. Clearer. With a jolt, Charlie realized he was starting to understand snatches of what they were saying. “… gate … nearby …” “… must have closed …” “… King Rith … displeased.”

      Goose bumps rippled over his skin. He was beginning to understand Esrian. Had he inherited a gift from his Esri ancestor after all? Or was this newfound ability just part of the magic of this world? Kade had warned him to expect anything. He’d been expecting the worst, but speaking the language was a huge plus.

      “We are not even certain the gate is here,” said the shortest and whitest of the three Esri.

      “I felt it.” The speaker’s face was rounder, his hair thick with straw-blond waves. “When it opens again, I will know.”

      The first man made a noise of dismay. “That won’t happen for another cycle.”

      “So we wait.”

      Charlie gave a mental groan. Don’t wait here. If they settled in, he was sunk.

      But the men never stopped, never glanced his way, just continued to walk toward the hills. Finally, when they were but a speck on the horizon, Charlie crept out of the bushes and headed the other way.

      He was being followed.

      Charlie picked up his pace as he crossed the rocky, hilly blue terrain, the rust-and-gold grass appearing beneath his feet with every step and disappearing a few steps behind him. The grass had entertained him for a while after he escaped the Esri at the gate.

      He’d been so distracted by the grass, he hadn’t noticed when he’d first picked up the tail.

      The trees had grown more numerous the farther he traveled from the gate, thin patches of woods cropping up here and there, the trees resembling those in his world only in their basic shape. They had trunks and branches and leaves. But the trunks were blue or green or some combination, some shimmery as satin, others spiked with thorns. And the leaves looked like an autumn forest with the color turned up two hundred percent. Reds, golds, oranges as bright as crayons from a coloring box.

      Unfortunately, scattered everywhere were bushes and rocks as big as boulders. Whoever was following him had plenty of places to hide.

      Charlie followed the stream Kade had told him would lead him through the mountains. It wasn’t the most direct route, but would provide him with water the entire journey. A necessity, especially since large bodies of water were rare in Esria.

      In the distance rose the twin red peaks he knew he’d have to cross. The air was cool and comfortable with a light breeze that brushed his heated skin—skin heated from exertion and the tension of feeling he had a bull’s-eye painted on his back. He didn’t dare confront his stalker unless he had no choice.

      Nearly two hours had passed since he’d tumbled through the gate, more than an hour since he’d caught a glimpse of movement and felt the familiar sensation of being watched. But he’d yet to see the man who followed. Or hear him.

      Damn, but he hated being without his team. In any other op, one of his men would slip away and double back to spy on the spy. But he was stuck. As soon as his pursuer knew he’d been made, he might no longer hang back. Which meant a confrontation Charlie couldn’t afford. But neither could he go on like this indefinitely. Sooner or later he’d need sleep. Better to confront him and try to scare the hell out of him while he could. If he could.

      But first, he wanted to see his tail and make certain there was only one.

      It took three tries, slipping behind bushes or trees before he finally caught a glimpse of the one following him as he darted from one boulder to another high on the hill above him. A Marceil, if the small size and gray gown were anything to go by. But this Marceil had hair. Very short, dark hair.

      Tarrys.

      Relief hit him first and hard, relief that he didn’t have an Esri on his tail. Anger followed fast on its heels.

      Damn her. He’d told her in no uncertain terms she wasn’t coming with him. Was this her doing or Harrison’s? It didn’t matter now. But, yeah, it did. If this was her doing and she hadn’t told anyone she was planning to stay in Esria, the others would assume they’d been captured. Harrison would jump through the gate at the next full moon to fulfill the mission he would assume Charlie had already failed.

      Dammit.

      His jaw clenched, his eyes burrowing beneath his brows as he fought to hide the telltale signs of emotion. The first thing he intended to do was lure her to him so he could wring her delicate little neck. The second was send her away, somewhere safe to spend the next month until the gate opened again. If he’d wanted her company, he’d have asked for it.

      Fisting his hands on his knees, he straightened and resumed walking as if nothing was wrong. For a moment, he considered trying to outdistance himself from her, but he didn’t know what kind of stamina she had. Besides, allowing her to follow him was too dangerous. If he picked up a second tail … a true threat … he might not realize it until it was too late.

      Damn her. If she thought she could thwart him and get away with it, she was dead wrong.

      Tarrys ducked behind a crystalberry

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