Dear Reader,
Here, at last, is the long-awaited third book in the Esri series that began with The Dark Gate and continued with Dark Deceiver. While you neednât have read either of the previous books to enjoy this one, I hope youâll be intrigued enough by the story and the world to eventually pick them up. The climactic ending of the four-book Esri series, Warrior Rising, will be available soon from Mills & Boon® Nocturneâ¢.
For more information about all of my books, and to learn more about the world of the Esri, please visit my website, www.pamelapalmer.net.
Happy reading!
Pamela Palmer
I canât go back there.
Slavery. Pain. Degradation. Her body controlled by anotherâs mind, every action orchestrated by her masterâs intent, her free will ripped away. Eliminated. Destroyed.
I will not go back to that.
With shaking hands, Tarrys dumped the leftover coffee into the kitchen sink as the two brothers, Charlie and Harrison Rand, argued behind her in the living room of the small apartment she shared with Aunt Myrtle in downtown Washington, D.C. Their every word scraped at her conscience.
âDammit, Charlie, youâll never get through Esria alive. Itâs suicide.â
Charlie Rand made a sharp sound of disgust. âItâs not suicide. Give me a little more credit than that, Harrison. But even if it is, what choice do we have? If we donât stop the Esri, weâre as good as dead anyway.â
It was almost three in the morning, but the meeting of the Sitheen Resistanceâthe mere handful of humans who knew of the Esri invasion and could actually fight itâhad just ended. The others had left or retired to bed, the plan set.
When the gate into Esria opened at midnight tonight, Charlie Rand was going through.
And would almost certainly die.
I could help him.
Tarrysâs stomach clenched painfully. Shaking her head against the whispers of her conscience, she soaped the sponge and began cleaning the coffee carafe. Sheâd prayed it wouldnât come to this. Prayed the humans would find a way to seal the gate between the worlds, shutting the Esri out once and for all, leaving her on this side.
Safe. Free.
Because, though they treated her as one of themâas a humanâshe wasnât.
She looked human though, at five feet tall, a small one. Her body might be slender, but for the first time in her life she had food aplenty and had started to develop true curves. Even her hair had begun to grow and now covered her scalp in a sleek, dark cap of which she was immensely pleased.
Yes, she might pass for human easily enough, but she wasnât mortal. She was Marceil, one of the slave race of Esria.
After knowing freedom and kindness, how would her heart ever survive slavery again?
âThere has to be another way to seal those gates,â Harrison said. âWeâll find it.â
âAnd how many more people will die in the meantime?â Charlieâs angry frustration set the air to vibrating, quickening her pulse.
Tarrys grabbed the dish towel and turned to lean against the counter as she dried the carafe, her gaze drawn to Charlie. While Harrison maintained an air of deadly calm, Charlie was living motion and muscle, passion and anger. Like his brother, he towered over her in height, his hair close-cropped and sun-streaked. But it was Charlie, with his mercurial temperament and his charmerâs smile, whose presence dominated the room, heating her flesh and stealing her air.
It was Charlie Rand who made her wish she were human, a beautiful human he might want in return.