Drenched: Elemental Warriors (A Sci-Fi Alien Warrior Paranormal Romance) Page 34

  “What is that?” he mumbled, getting out of bed and stumbling to a window.

  He couldn’t see anything through the darkness of night, but when the alarm signaled that they were under attack started blaring, Kain knew what was happening.

  He swore under his breath and moved to get dressed, throwing clothes on and hopping around on one foot and then the other to get his boots on. There was no telling who was at their walls this time, but Kain knew he had to get out there.

  Kain measured his breathing as he rushed out to the walls. There was no use tiring himself out before he even got to the fighting. He could feel the comfort of the ground beneath his feet, even and firm as he ran, one foot in front of the other. It was where his power came from, and it was also what gave him strength. The connection to the land under his feet was strong and deep, and he let the surety of it fill him. Their landscape was unchanging unless they changed it, they had the power, and they had the control. Deep breath in, hold, deep breath out. Slow and steady. With just the right amount of expedience.

  He got close enough to hear the fighting, the high sound of metal clashing against metal and the deep, resonant bangs of stone shifting and crashing. There were screams of terror and anger, and Kain's lips curled into a smile.

  Whoever was trying to attack them was not doing a very good job.

  Kain closed his eyes to summon his power so he could join the fray when he heard someone shout "Guard the Prince!" and his eyes snapped open and his head whipped around.

  What in the seven circles was the Prince doing out here? It was the middle of the night, on a remote corner of the wall, and it was no place or time for their ruler to be getting himself into trouble.

  He couldn't see for a long moment, where the Prince was, but then a tall, thin figure slipped out of the crowd, and Kain swore under his breath. Prince Comman was easy to spot in this otherwise thick and bumbling patch of warriors. They were all built to be solid and firm, like mountains, and the Prince was tall and reed thin, more easily shifted by the winds. Just another thing that made him unsuitable, some would say, but they didn't have time to think about that now. The Prince was in danger.

  While he wasn't a member of the Prince's Guard, Kain couldn't just leave the Prince unattended. It was his duty to serve his people, and surely that also meant the one who ruled them.

  Centering himself again, he called on the power at his core and then let it flow through him, calling stones from the ground to form the large hammer he preferred to fight with. It was jagged and heavy, made from the literal ground beneath his feet, and he'd never lost a fight while wielding it.

  "Your Highness!" Kain called. "To me!"

  The Prince looked at him, brow furrowed for a moment, and then rushed over, darting this way and that around the fighting. If nothing else, at least he was nimble.

  "Who are you?" the Prince asked, eying him.

  "My name is Kain," Kain replied. "I'm in the Stone Guard. Which...is probably fairly obvious, considering." He smiled sheepishly and then shook his head. He needed to focus. "Where's your Guard?"

  Comman shook his head. "I don't know. I was here with Maraath, but he is..."

  Kain didn't need him to finish that sentence. For the Prince to have been with one guard and that guard to be absent now, could only mean he'd died protecting his Prince. It had finally happened.

  "What were you doing out here anyway?" Kain asked, voice rising, both in agitation and to be heard over the growing battle.

  He half expected a rebuke from Comman about speaking to the Prince in a way that was rude, but Comman hung his head, instead. "I was...I wanted to see the Conflux."

  "The what?"

  The Prince pointed to the sky where the moon and the largest stars were all in a line. It was beautiful, seeing how bright and strange the sight was, and Kain got the impression that this wasn't something that happened all that often.

  "The Conflux," he said, sighing. "And Maraath accompanied you."

  "Yes. And then we were ambushed."

  That much was obvious. Kain took it all in and formed a quick plan of attack. "Alright," he said. "Stay with me, Your Highness. I'll get you out of here."

  "But the battle," Comman said, gesturing around them.

  "You're more important than that, Your Highness,” Kain said. “If you die, then all manner of bad stuff will happen. And since there aren’t any members of your guard nearby, you’re going to have to be stuck with me.”

  The Prince looked startled, perhaps at being told what to do in such a way or perhaps that Kain was willing to stick his neck out like that to keep him safe. Either way, they didn’t have time to dwell on it. The longer they stood there, the more likely it would be that the Prince would come to some kind of danger.

  Kain took his duties seriously.

  “Very well,” Comman said, gesturing for Kain to lead the way. It was a nightmare, honestly. Ideally, there would be at least two guards on the Prince, one to watch the front and one to guard the Prince’s back. But now there was just him, and he wasn’t sure how to go about this. His job was usually just to defeat all the enemies he could find, not to have to guard one person.

  But he managed. He and the Prince skirted the edge of the fighting, with Kain closest to the chaos. Every time one of their enemies broke away to try and engage the Prince in the conflict, Kain smashed them down with his hammer. They went on like that for a while until they had cleared the fighting and were heading back up towards the palace.

  The rest of the Prince’s Guard met them halfway.

  “What happened?” demanded one of them, and his dour expression made it seem like he was the one in charge. “Where’s Maraath? Who is this?”

  The Prince drooped for a moment and then seemed to recover himself as he drew himself up to his full height. “Maraath has perished,” he said, and only his voice and the sadness in his eyes betrayed his emotions. “This is Kain. He escorted me here.”

  “You’re in the Stone Guard?” the man asked, eying him doubtfully.

  “Yes,” Kain said, drawing himself up as well. “I am.”

  “Thank you for seeing our Prince here, then. You have our gratitude.” The man turned on his heel, and it was clear Kain was being dismissed. That was just as well.

  He turned to leave, when a hand on his arm stopped him. Kain looked to see the Prince standing closer. “You have my gratitude as well,” Comman said. “I will not forget.”

  “You’re welcome, Your Highness,” Kain said, bowing before he hurried off. He didn’t really believe that Comman was going to remember him, but it was nice to think about.

  By the time they had stemmed the tide of creatures trying to get through to the city, the sun had risen in the sky and was high enough for it to be nearly midday. Kain was splattered with mud, dirt, and other people’s blood, and his body ached. He let the structure of his hammer fall to the ground with several heavy thuds, and stretched, wincing when his back cracked ominously.

  All he really wanted was to soak in the natural hot spring in the warrior compound and then go get drinks or perhaps just go back to bed.

  What happened instead was that as soon as he had stepped foot in the compound, he was summoned to the palace.

  “But…” Kain objected. “I’m in no state to go there!” He gestured to his mud splattered uniform, eyes wide.

  “You will come,” said the guard who was summoning him. “By order of the Prince.”

  Kain sighed and closed his eyes, dreaming of the steaming water and his soft bed. But one didn’t disobey a direct order from the Prince of all people, so he let out a breath and followed the guard to the palace.

  It wasn’t a place he’d been to very often. It rose up from the ground, taller than anything else in the city. It was a large natural structure, hewn from stone and glass, and studded with gems, with a walkway that led from the rest of the city to its massive doors.

  Kain kept his mouth shut and just followed.

  They walked down
an otherwise deserted hallway and then down another and another before they reached an elaborately carved set of doors. The guard knocked.

  “Enter,” said the Prince from within, and Kain swallowed hard.

  They stepped inside, and Kain barely had time to take in the sparsely furnished room before the Prince was standing in front of him.

  He had clearly had time to bathe and change, as he looked fresh and put together. He was dressed in simple clothes of fine make and material, his long, dark hair tied at the nape of his neck in a low tail. The Prince stood straight backed and clear eyed, though if he looked closely enough Kain thought he’d be able to see sorrow and fatigue in the lines of his face.

  “Kain,” Comman said, a smile flickering over his lips. “Thank you for coming. I know you must be tired from the battle.”

  Kain shot a glance at the guard who had brought him, and nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Yes,” the Prince said, nodding. “There is. With the death of Maraath, I find myself in need of a new member of my guard. I’m aware that it’s not a well sought after position to take, but I do only want the best.”

  “Would you like me to recommend someone for you, Your Highness?” Kain asked. Because surely not. Surely he hadn’t been called so that one of his lifelong dreams could come true. Life didn’t work that way. He’d only escorted the Prince away from danger, that was all. That was not worth such a promotion, was it?

  “No,” Comman said. “I would like for you to take the position yourself, if it is something you would be interested in. I will understand if it isn’t of course.” He lowered his eyes. “I know that I am not my mother and that I don’t inspire the loyalty that she did, but I believe that in order to be a good ruler, a good leader, I need to surround myself with good people. I think you are a good person, and perhaps more importantly in this case, a good warrior. Would you take the position?”

  He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just bowed his head, composing himself for a moment.

  “Yes,” Kain said finally, when he could force words out of his mouth. “I will.”

  Prequel Two: Plateau

  “Some people have all the luck,” Silvia sighed, slumping down in her bed. Part of her was yelling at the rest of her to turn the television off for crying out loud, but she was stubborn, even when she was arguing with herself, so she kept her eyes glued to the screen. On it, the news was doing some feature on prom season, and they had done interviews with various high school juniors and seniors about their outfits, their dates, their choice of transportation, and whether or not they were attending after parties.

  Silvia stared at the screen as smiling teenager after smiling teenager showed off their frilly dresses or pressed suits and talked about the hotel suites their parents had booked for them.

  “My uncle owns a limo service,” one breathless girl was saying into the camera. “So he’s hooking up me and my friends with a car for free as like, an early graduation present!”

  “We’re riding our bikes to prom,” said a boy with a seemingly permanent scowl. “We just wanna get there, not spend a whole buncha money on one night, you know?”

  “No, I don’t know,” Silvia muttered, scowling at the television. “Please tell me more.”

  “Oh, honey.” She looked up to see her mother coming in, holding a tray that contained what she could only assume was her dinner. “Why don’t you turn that off?”

  Silvia rolled her eyes. “Just seeing how the other half lives, Mom. Living vicariously, and all that.”

  “You’re just making yourself upset, and you know it,” her mother countered. “Anyway, I brought your dinner.”

  “Goody. More pudding.” Silvia sighed and turned the TV off with a vicious jab at the remote control. She laid perfectly still while her mother pulled the legs of the tray down, setting her meal before her. Lukewarm Salisbury steak and rubbery green beans, for the third time this month. And of course, the perpetual cup of pudding, strawberry cheesecake this time.

  She closed her eyes and tried not to hate her life.

  But she knew her mother would be watching her anxiously, waiting for her to eat something. She knew that if she turned her nose up at this meal, her mother would fret and then offer to go home and make her something else (as if stopping at the McDonald’s down the street was out of the question), and then Silvia would feel worse than she already did.

  So she let out a breath, opened her eyes, and picked up the plastic fork and knife to start sawing through the hockey puck masquerading as steak on her plate.

  Her mother relaxed and eased herself into the chair on the other side of the room.

  Silvia was fifteen years old, and she had spent the majority of the last four years in the hospital. A weak immune system and a habit of catching anything and everything that was possible to be caught had her sick every other day it seemed like, and her parents were paranoid and had too much money, so she got checked into the hospital every time she was sick for more than a couple of days.

  Sometimes it was worth it, sometimes she needed to be there, and sometimes she definitely did not.

  Unfortunately, this wasn’t one of the times she needed to be hospitalized. The doctor had been concerned about her white count and some kind of rash she’d had, so she had already been here for three days with no sign of being discharged yet.

  Everyone else was out there living their lives, and she was trapped in here. Her best friend tried to keep her up on what was going on, but she missed so many days of school that it wasn’t like she could go to public school anyway.

  All Silvia wanted was to be normal. All she wanted was to feel like she was just like any other fifteen year old girl. But instead she got this. It made her angry and frustrated, but she tried not to show that to her parents. They had enough to worry about.

  Two years later, and she was staring down the barrel of a gun shaped cigarette lighter. Silvia held up a hand and pushed it out of her face.

  "No, thanks."

  "Aww, come on," her friend Katya was saying. "Are you afraid of a little smoke?"

  "Considering it might put me back in the hospital with lung issues, yeah," Silvia deadpanned. She wasn't intimidated by Katya and her friends, no matter how cool they tried to pretend like they were. They were the same age as she was, and she wasn't impressed by their whole 'we're bad and dangerous' vibe.

  Katya just rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, are you coming with us tonight?"

  Sil hadn't decided yet. She did desperately want to go to this party. It seemed like one of those things that people would talk about for years, a kegger thrown at some rich kid's house while his parents were out of town. She'd seen it in countless movies, and it was one of those experiences that she would have missed out on if she was in the hospital.

  Her parents had eased up a bit when it came to the worrying about her health, but not enough that they wouldn't put her right back in an uncomfortable bed and a hospital gown if anything happened to her at this party. So it would probably be safer to bow out and tell them that she couldn't make it.

  But she didn't want to do that. For once, she wanted to be a normal teenager, and that meant keggers and proms staying out past her curfew. Her parents thought she was spending the night at Katya's house, anyway, which wasn't technically a lie. Technically. They would be together, just...not at Kat's house.

  "Yeah," she said, making a snap decision. "Yeah, I'm going."

  The music was blaring when they pulled up to Bobby Henderson's house. 'Rich' didn't quite seem to cover it when it came to how much money his parents had. The sprawling lawns were well manicured, and there was a fountain in the middle of them, where several people were already gathered, leaning against the stone and smoking.

  The noise was incredible, and as they got out of the car, Sil could feel the bass from the music inside the house thumping through her shoes. It was chaos, and she could see people she'd never met before all over the place, dancing, to
uching, groping, smoking, drinking, laughing, living.

  It was amazing.

  She smoothed down her leather jacket (genuine leather, a hand me down from her father who had decided he was too old for such things), and hoped her hair was still in the messy ponytail she'd spent an hour constructing that afternoon.

  Silvia knew she'd never be able to pull off the glamorous look that some of the other girls were going for. With their short skirts and low cut blouses, make up on their faces drawing attention to their eyes. She wasn't pretty like that, even if she did have a nice figure and an okay face.

  Her hair was long and dark, a muddy brown that she wanted to dye as soon as she could. She was average height, with above average boobs and decent hips. Katya had told her all of this, of course. Silvia wasn't vain enough to spend that much time staring at her reflection and trying to come up with some kind of description for her body.

  "You look fine," Kat said, smiling at someone who whizzed by them on a skateboard. "Stop fidgeting."

  "I'm not fidgeting," Sil hissed back. "I just don't know any of these people." She probably would have known them if she'd gone to school with them, but since she didn't, she was the stranger in the midst.

  "That's for the best, trust me," Katya said. "No one knows you. You're like a blank slate. You can be whoever you want to them. This is your night to make yourself, Sil."

  It was surprisingly inspirational from Kat, and Silvia sighed. Still sounded easier said than done, but she was willing to try.

  "Okay," she said, letting out a breath. "Let's do this."

  They made their way up the ridiculously long driveway and got a better view of the house.

  Mansion was a better word for it, honestly. It was all white stone and glass, and shining lights from the inside spilling out onto the lawn. The sight of it took her breath away for a moment, and she wondered what Bobby’s parents had to do to make this much money.

  “Kat!” someone cried, and Kat laughed and waved at a tall boy with wavy hair.