Reluctant Guardian (34 page)

 

The hilda beasts moved in synchronized precision, working together to trap us. We were easy prey as we turned, trying to keep the beasts at our back. But there were just too many of them, and then something happened that surprised me yet again.

Zach shrugged me off and held up his fists. “If I'm gonna die, then I'll do it like a hero in my game!”

A hilda beast with large, rounded horns lunged at us. Time seemed to slow as its claws reached out, sharp and stained. I stood there quaking, holding my fists up too, but not really intending to use them. I didn't know how. The most I'd ever done was pinch or pull hair. True girl fighting.

But Zach. He leaped into the air, swiveled his hips—which by no means is a small feat, because like I said before, he was pretty chunky—and kicked the beast in the face. He'd
never
done anything like that before—at least that I'd seen. He could hardly run without getting out of breath. And doing what looked like a black-belt karate kick? No way.

His feet extended in a double roundhouse kick, snapping the hilda beast's head back. It lost its balance, tripped over an exposed root, and toppled down a shallow incline. A roar of outrage bellowed from its mouth.

“Where did you learn
that?”
I shrieked as he grabbed my hand and took off down the path.

“I don't know! I've never done it before!” But he was flying high as a kite, and he wouldn't quit talking about it. It blew my mind too. We'd never really been into sports. I'd taken dance for a while, but quit when I was twelve. I should have stayed with it. I think I would have been a great dancer.

We raced on, ignoring our exhaustion until the hilda beasts fell behind. Their huge, lumbering bodies held no stamina, and they weren't fast runners. Thank heavens. Because we weren't either.

Coming around a bend, we found ourselves on the outskirts of a quaint, little village. And I mean totally cute, with white picket fences, houses with rounded roofs, and people in pioneer clothes. If I didn't know better, I'd say we'd traveled back in time. That seemed much more likely than being in a computer game.

We hurried forward and came to a large building with white siding and dark shutters. A sign hung on the front that read,
Morgantown Inn
.

“Terratir,” Zach whispered, half in dread, half in amazement. “We're in the land of Terratir.”

“What?”

“I can't believe it!” Zach exclaimed. “This
is
my game! Come on.” He hurried past a large mailbox and ran inside the inn. I followed, warier. I wasn't about to barrel into a strange inn like I lived there.

The aroma of hot, home-baked bread engulfed me as I entered a wide-open dining room, which had a fire crackling in a huge fireplace. A long counter ran the length of the wall, and a bald-headed man stood behind it, wiping tall glasses. Just like in the movies. I almost expected to see a bunch of cowboys lined up drinking beers and wiping three-inch-long mustaches.

Zach rushed to the counter, panting and out of breath. “Let's get something to eat. I'm starving.” He stopped in front of the bartender and ordered bread, cheese, and a quart of milk. Not food I would have ordered in a restaurant.

“Anything else?” the proprietor asked.

“No thanks.”

“You gonna pay for that?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh.” Zach didn't have any money. He
never
had money, but he shoved his fists into his pockets anyway, and brought out a huge handful of gold, silver, and copper coins. He ogled the treasure, and so did I, counting the small fortune.

“Wow!” he whispered, paying the man. He took his food and sat down at a table by the fire. I sat across from him, staring hard into his eyes, my accusation clear.

“Where did you get that money?”

“Who cares?” He took a bite of warm, homemade bread, moaning in delight, completely ignoring me.

Too hungry to care about his integrity, I asked, “Is that all for you, or are you gonna share?” Granted, I was watching my figure, which meant carbs were definitely out, but the smell of that bread, and the way the butter melted on top… plus I hadn't eaten hardly anything for breakfast, and honestly, I was starving! I snatched a piece, which melted on my tongue like chocolate. Never had I tasted anything so sweet, so wonderful. I closed my eyes in ecstasy.

We didn't sit there long before a hulking giant of a man limped in, his armor dented, his sword dragging by his side. He fell into a chair at a nearby table. A long, fresh gash stretched across his massive chest, bleeding. He grimaced in pain as he glared at… you guessed it: me.

Never had I seen eyes so penetrating. Never mind they were the deepest, darkest blue, or ringed with thick, dark lashes that any girl would beg for, or the fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous with all those bulging muscles, but he was looking at me with raw hatred. Like he wanted to kill me. Seriously.

“Uh… Zach, that man is staring at me,” I whispered, leaning in close, as though he could protect me from this Conan the Barbarian. “Let's get out of here.”

“Huh? Guys always stare at you, Lauren. Ignore him. I want to finish eating. Besides, everyone here is a good guy.” He continued shoving the warm bread into his mouth, as though savoring every buttery bite. There's something you should know about Zach. He cannot be parted from his food. And if his bread tasted anything like mine had, he'd soon be a rabid dog if I tried to pull him away.

“How do you know who's good or not?” I asked. “He doesn't look good to me.” I sank lower as the man stood, his muscles rippling.

He slowly limped toward me, and my throat closed. I could not breathe. I even said a little prayer, begging for a miracle, but the man's heavy boots just kept pounding on the wooden floor, getting closer and closer.

The brute eyed me, towering over our table, and placed a heavy hand on my chair. “You should be more careful, girl. You could stir up something dangerous out there.” His eyes closed to slits as his lips pulled back into a snarl. I have to say, I was surprised that his teeth were so white and straight, but it was the long dark hair, wet with sweat at the moment—that I found myself staring at. Never had I met a guy who so totally terrified me, yet made my mouth water so profusely. Never.

Zach scooted back in his chair, staring up at the muscular stranger. “Dardanos?”

The man straightened, his jaw muscles flexing as he clenched his teeth. His thick, heavy armor glimmered in the dim firelight.

“Oh my gosh! I can't believe it!” Zach turned to me, grabbing my sleeve. “This is my toon! Unbelievable!” Suddenly, Zach was yanked from his chair, the front of his shirt knotted in the man's meaty fist.

My heart leaped out of my chest, and I found myself jumping up and yanking on the man's rock-hard arms, coming to my brother's rescue. I would not freeze up another time. Not if there was anything I could do, and Zach seemed to attract the wrong kind of attention everywhere we went.

My little hands didn't seem to faze him at all. He just kept staring down into Zach's eyes. “Who are you?” he growled.

“He is my coolest, and highest, character!” Zach yelled down to me, ignoring the man's question. “He's a human warrior and super powerful!”

“I see that,” I said, wanting to shrink back down into my chair. Everyone was watching, including the bald guy at the counter. Never had I felt so small or helpless, or like no one was on my side. I didn't think anyone would come to our rescue if it came to that. But then the warrior shoved Zach down against the table and turned away in a huff of exasperation.

Zach pointed excitedly at the swords that hung from the guy's hips. “See those?” he asked too loudly. “That one is called a stinging needle. It has extra nimbleness and tons of vitality added to it, and the other one there,” he pointed to the other sword, “is a death blade and has added stealth and attack power. I bought them for a thousand gold pieces! It cost me a fortune!” Zach laughed, hysterically, jumping up and down. “This
is
my game! I knew it!”

The man turned back around, catching Zach in his beady glare. And just when I'd started to feel a bit of relief that he was going to leave us alone…“I asked you a question, boy. Who. Are. You?” he said again, this time demanding an answer.

And true to Zach's nature, he didn't shrink away in terror, or try to hide, but stuck out his hand and introduced himself. “Hi! I'm Zach Marriott, and this is my bratty sister, Lauren. It's
so
great to meet you!”

The man ignored his hand. “How do you know me?” His voice rumbled with the deep threat of thunder.

“So you
are
Dardanos?” Zach's eyes were wide and innocent.

The warrior didn't answer. Instead, he scowled at Zach, turned on his heel, and stomped toward the door. Of course, Zach followed, close on his heels. I rolled my eyes, and knew another experience was coming where I'd need to save him. But against this Dardanos guy, we were sure to lose. He looked a lot faster than the hilda beasts.

Dardanos turned around to face Zach, gritting his teeth. “Go away!” He promptly slammed the inn's door in his face.

Zach ran back over to me. “This is the best day of my life!” Then he was back at the door, yanking it open and following Dardanos out into the bright sunlight, peppering him with questions. “What are you doing here in Morgantown? Have you done any raids lately? Do you like the armor you have? What quests are you working on?”

I was so embarrassed I could have slithered beneath the table, never to come out again, but what could I do but go looking for them?

 

 

 

 

Rosa never thought she'd make it to sixteen...

 

When being unique puts you in danger and speaking your mind can be punishable by death, you might find yourself fighting to survive. Sixteen-year-old Rosa lives in one of the eight enclosed cities of The Woodlands. Where the lone survivors of a devastating race war have settled in the Russian wilderness because it's the only scrap of land left habitable on the planet. In these circular cities, everyone must abide by the law or face harsh punishment. Rosa's inability to conform and obey the rules brands her a leper and no one wants to be within two feet of her, until she meets Joseph. He's blonde, fair-skinned, green-eyed, and the laid-back complete opposite of Rosa. She's never met anyone quite like him, and she knows that spells danger.

 

But differences weren't always a bad thing. People used to think being unique was one of the most treasured of traits to have. Now, the Superiors, who ruthlessly control the concrete cities with an iron fist, are obsessed with creating a ‘raceless' race. They are convinced this is the only way to avoid another war. Any anomalies must be destroyed.

 

The Superiors are unstoppable and can do anything they want. After all, they are considered superheroes by the general public
. But not everyone sees them this way. When they continue to abuse their power by collecting young girls for use in their secret, high-tech breeding program, they have no idea that one of those girls has somehow managed to make friends even she didn't know she had. And one man will stop at nothing to save her.

 

.

 

In a war between the humans and the inhabitants of the sea—humans will lose. Xanthus Dimitriou—the most lethal Dagonian to rise from the ocean—is on a mission to save mankind from annihilation. But first there's one small thing he needs to do… kill a beautiful young woman in a wheelchair.

 

Killing her doesn't start out as part of his plan. He entrenches himself deep in the human world. Aligning himself with his enemies, he prepares to send them to Triton to face their punishment. Then Sara Taylor rolls onto the scene. Xanthus knows at once she's a criminal. And her crime? Being born. She's a human/Dagonian half-breed, an abomination. Killing her should be an easy job. All he has to do is break into her apartment, slit her throat, and feed her body to the sharks. Simple, right? Wrong. If only she weren't so beautiful, so innocent, so sweet...