A Warrior s Desire - By Pamela Palmer Page 0,44

became a fire in his veins.

His own Esri attacker had retrieved his short sword and was lunging for him again.

With focused savagery, Charlie met him halfway, slashing the sword and several fingers from the immortal's hand.

The Esri yelled, clamping what was left of his bloody appendage around Charlie's wrist, sending that fiery pain shooting up his arm and into his body to spread through his chest.

He could barely breathe, and didn't care.

Only one thing mattered.

Tarrys.

Digging for every ounce of strength he still possessed, he lowered his shoulder to the center of the Esri's chest and shoved hard, knocking the man back, ramming him into his companion.

As he tackled both of the slighter men to the floor, he reached under his tunic and pulled out his small flamethrower.

His brain swam with agony.

But as the fire licked out from the flamethrower against the bloody remains of a hand that still gripped him, the words to the death chant came to him in a rush, rolling off his tongue.

The Esri screamed and released him, but it was too late.

The fire engulfed both immortal males, immobilizing them in a perfect, if unnatural, arc.

Charlie rolled away, lurching to where Tarrys sagged against the wall, drenched in her own blood.

Tears streaked her cheeks, her mouth open as if in a silent scream.

A scream that tore through his head.

As he sang the words of the death chant, he grabbed her at the waist and hauled her away from the Esri and away from the fire.

Sinking to the ground, he held her against his chest, her mutilated head brushing his chin.

Dear God.

But he continued to chant.

His vision spun, his words slurring even as the pain slowly receded from his head to settle in the pit of his heart.

As he sank to the floor, Tarrys in his arms, his enemies' bodies began to sparkle with a thousand iridescent lights, lights that slowly rose, hovering above them for one breathless instant before exploding in the narrow space.

As the lights erupted like fireworks, the Esri's bodies crumbled, their immortal existence ending in a single pile of ash.

"Oh, Charlie," Tarrys breathed, her voice soft, but strong.

"That wasn't good."

She turned on his lap to face him, her face bloody, her scalp already almost fully healed.

Her hair remained long and untouched except for the single chunk of bald spot halfway between her temple and her crown, a spot the size of an egg.

He gripped her shoulders and stared into her face, disbelieving.

"You're all right?" "Yes, of course.

Are you?" "You scared the crap out of me."

She glanced back at the pile of ash.

"You killed them."

"It was them or us."

She nodded, tears springing to her eyes.

With a shudder, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her face against him.

Charlie pulled her tight, his hand burrowing into her hair as relief tore through him.

He closed his eyes and drank in the feel of her warm weight against his heart.

Holding her felt right.

Perfect.

He was beginning to need her in ways he didn't understand and didn't want to contemplate.

"I was so scared," she murmured against his throat.

"I heard you yell.

I thought he was going to kill you."

"He packed a wallop with his hand."

"Pain?" "Yeah."

He stroked her head, careful to avoid the wounded patch, though he knew it was fully healed.

"Do you still feel your power?" "I think so.

I don't think he took enough of my hair for me to lose it.

Do you want me to call for water?" "Soon."

He pulled her back against him, not ready to let her go.

"I've got a death mark," he said finally, forcing himself to say the words out loud.

"Yes."

Tarrys sighed deeply.

"They'll come for you, of course, but it will take a while.

There are no villages in this part of Esria.

But they'll follow you now, as easily as my master followed me."

He stroked her hair.

"What do you think, should we continue through the mountain or try to backtrack out and go over instead?" "Through.

I know I've made some mistakes, but I believe it'll be quicker and safer to stay in the mountain.

The Esri aren't likely to come in after you."

"They'll be waiting for me at the entrance."

"Perhaps, but only if there are travelers nearby, and that isn't likely.

I think we can be out of the mountain in under two weeks and there's no village that close.

The only problem might be..." She pulled back to look at him.

"What?" Worry lit her eyes.

"The king has horses.

The royal court is far, but on horseback, they'll travel much faster.

Possibly within that two weeks."

"It's going to be