A Warrior s Desire - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,2
the unknown and dangerous world of Esria - unnerved even his steel- coated stomach.
As he pushed through the door to the roof of Myrtle and Tarrys's apartment building that afternoon, Charlie realized that in less than ten hours, he would enter that strange world with no way to escape for a month.
The gates between the worlds only opened during the midnight hour of a full moon.
Lying awake last night, he'd come to the conclusion he needed to polish his archery skills before he went through the gate.
Not only were guns useless against the immortal Esri, but the sound was sure to draw unwanted attention.
So he'd arranged a lesson from the finest archer he'd ever seen.
The little Marceil, Tarrys.
He shook his head at the irony.
Eight years as a navy SEAL, training with the most advanced weapons the world has ever known and what did he need? Bows and arrows.
Charlie buttoned his canvas jacket against the chill November breeze and headed around the brick structure that housed the stairs, following the sound of arrows zinging through the air.
The first time he'd seen Tarrys, she'd been bald as a cue ball, dressed in some god-awful gray sack of a slave gown, and controlled by Baleris as that bastard prepared to herd several dozen young women through the gate.
Baleris had ordered both Tarrys and his other slave to shoot the Sitheen, but even controlled, she'd managed to thwart the Esri and help the humans.
She'd aimed and timed her arrow so perfectly, she'd knocked the other slave's arrow out of the air, leaving his intended victim untouched by either.
An amazing shot.
Charlie didn't expect her to turn him into an Olympic-grade archer in a few hours.
He just hoped she could fine-tune his own rudimentary technique and give him some tips on making his own equipment in that foreign world.
Then he'd have weeks to practice shooting game so he could feed himself while he was in Esria.
"Tarrys?" Charlie called out, not wanting to startle her in the midst of firing a deadly weapon.
"Here."
Her voice was clear and sure, surprising him a little.
He'd always thought of her as meek, but maybe that wasn't fair considering he barely knew her.
He'd been away from D.
C.
far more than he'd been here since Baleris found the gate.
Though he tried to be in town for the full moon, other responsibilities demanded his time and attention.
After his stint in the navy, he'd joined a civilian agency that did much the same kind of covert ops work without the political red tape.
A couple weeks ago, he'd taken a leave of absence, finally devoting himself full-time to the Esri problem.
If they didn't get these gates sealed, the rest of the world's troubles weren't going to matter.
Charlie turned the corner and for a second thought he'd come upon a stranger until he registered the slight stature and supershort hair of the shapely woman pulling arrows out of a target hung from the brick.
He pulled up, watching her with interest and no small amount of surprise.
The snug jeans fit her perfectly, hugging her slender hips and falling just to the tops of her bare feet.
Feet sporting pretty pink toenails.
His admiring gaze rose to take in the clingy purple turtleneck that clung to a surprisingly ripe pair of breasts.
An appreciative smile tugged at his mouth.
He'd always thought of her as cute in an alien, otherworldly kind of way.
Like a buddy's violin- playing little sister or something.
But there was nothing otherworldly about her today.
No one would ever guess this woman wasn't human.
Until she glanced at him, revealing the most vibrant pair of violet eyes he'd ever seen.
"You look good, eaglet.
I like the clothes."
Her gaze returned to the target as she pulled the last of the arrows.
"Aunt Myrtle said I needed clothes that fit.
I was fine with the others."
Aunt Myrtle, the elderly aunt of one of the Sitheen, was a Sitheen herself and a gifted healer.
She'd taken Tarrys under her wing while Tarrys looked after her in return.
Apparently, Myrtle had decided it was time to update Tarrys's wardrobe and replace the baggy T- shirts and sweatshirts she'd been wearing.
He had to admit, the results were impressive.
"You liked those Redskins sweatshirts, huh?" "They were soft."
Her simple words reminded him that she wasn't used to luxury.
Hell, she'd been slave to one of the vilest creatures Charlie had ever encountered.
Baleris.
He couldn't begin to imagine what her life had been like.
She deserved a little luxury.
"It looks like Myrtle's getting a start on your wardrobe.
If there's anything else you need, you let me know, okay?" He