A Warrior s Desire - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,25

pale hair glowing like copper beneath the russet sky, a lust-filled smile on his face and a hard promise in his pink eyes.

Her days of freedom were over.
Chapter 8
Charlie woke to the sound of a scream.

He was on his feet before he was fully awake, his brain scrambling to catch up.

One glance at the disappearing flowers beneath his feet did the trick.

Esria.

Check.

"No!" Tarrys's furious voice was laced with a terror that chilled his blood.

He saw her below, surrounded by two Esri, one of which he recognized all too well.

Dammit.

Tarrys was trying to dodge the bastards' grasping hands, but she was too small, her robe too large and unwieldy to allow her quick movement, despite her agility.

As Charlie ran down the path to reach her, the bastard in the blue tunic rushed her and clamped his hand around the back of her neck.

Instantly, Tarrys stilled, her face a mask of misery and defeat.

Her captor grinned with satisfaction, his teeth gleaming white as he released her.

Tarrys didn't run.

Instead, with quick desperate motions, she tossed her bow and quiver on the ground, untied her purple sash, then lifted her gown over her head - the only scrap of clothing she wore - and dropped it.

As she stood naked but for the band of holly, which clearly hadn't worked, the Esri reached for the ties of his pants.

Charlie's gut tightened, fury roaring in his ears.

The bastard had enslaved her with that touch, probably mentally ordering her to undress and she'd been helpless to disobey.

He would rape her and she'd let him, unable to fight.

Like hell.

Charlie leaped onto the open rock and launched himself at the son of a bitch, tackling him to the ground.

The Esri didn't fight the attack, but the moment they hit the rock, he slapped his palm over Charlie's hand.

Pain shot through his body of such a ferocity that his vision went white.

Jesus.

He struggled to free himself, prying the Esri's hand off his.

The moment he could move, he retaliated, plowing his fist through the Esri's pale face three times before he realized the Esri wasn't struggling.

Was, in fact, watching him with keen interest.

Warning bells went off in his head, Kade's advice flashing through his mind.

Act the aggressor.

He'd done that in spades, but not in the calm, barbaric manner Kade had recommended - breaking bones.

Just by the color of his skin and hair, they knew he had human blood.

The key was making sure they didn't know exactly how much.

Charlie got to his feet and backed away from the Esri and that hand of his, then glared at the two men.

"She's mine!" he growled.

The man he'd attacked rose to his feet with an ease that mocked Charlie's attack, his eyes glittering with speculation.

"Not anymore.

You didn't enslaved her.

I have."

"Look at his hand," said the second Esri.

With a sinking certainty, Charlie knew what they were looking at.

He could feel the sting of a split knuckle and the dampness of blood running down his finger.

"Human," the first man intoned as a malicious smile crossed his face.

"And a Sitheen, at that, or my touch would not have caused him pain, but enchanted him.

Catch him.

" Hell.

"Charlie, run!" Tarrys cried.

If the men had been human, he could have taken them.

But they were immortal.

He could knock them down all night and day and they'd just keep popping back up for more.

Running was never his favorite course of action, but there were times when retreat was the best option.

The only option.

Like now.

He dove for Tarrys, bending low as he grabbed her gown and weapons with one hand and slung her over his shoulder with his other.

The Esri shouted, but couldn't move fast enough.

Charlie tore back between them, up the path, running for his life.

For both their lives.

Adrenaline rushed through his system, lending him strength and speed.

He felt good again, strong and rested, even though he was certain he hadn't slept long.

Tarrys squirmed against his shoulder, her bare feet kicking his hipbone, her small fists pummeling his buttocks.

His hand gripped her bare thighs tighter against him.

"Settle down, eaglet.

I've got you... Umph," he groaned as she kneed him in the chest.

"I can't stop! I can't control it."

Her warm, round hip pressed against his cheek, filling his nostrils with the intoxicating scent of woman.

"When he touched me, he claimed me as his slave.

His mark calls me to him, now, and will always do so.

My body is trying to get back to him."

Charlie heard her words, his logical mind longing to deny that any such thing was possible, but he knew too well how