Dark Warrior Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Teaser chapter

  FROM NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF ATLANTIS BETRAYED AND ATLANTIS REDEEMED

  Books by Rebecca York

  PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF RUTH GLICK WRITING AS REBECCA YORK

  “York’s combination of werewolves, romance, suspense, science fiction, and fantasy is a winning one.”

  —Booklist

  “Rebecca York delivers page-turning suspense.”

  —Nora Roberts

  “[A] quick pace and dangerous overtones ensure that readers won’t be disappointed!”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “Action packed . . . and filled with sexual tension . . . A gripping thriller.”

  —The Best Reviews

  “A steamy paranormal. Brava.”

  —Huntress Book Reviews

  “A compulsive read.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “York delivers an exciting and suspenseful romance with paranormal themes that she gets just right. This is a howling good read.”

  —Booklist

  “Mesmerizing action and passions that leap from the pages with the power of a wolf’s coiled spring.”

  —BookPage

  “Delightful . . . [with] two charming lead characters.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “[Her] prose is smooth, literate, and fast-moving; her love scenes are tender yet erotic; and there’s always a happy ending.”—The Washington Post Book World

  “She writes a fast-paced, satisfying thriller.”

  —UPI

  “Clever and a great read. I can’t wait to read the final book in this wonderful series.”

  —ParaNormal Romance

  Books by Rebecca York

  KILLING MOON

  EDGE OF THE MOON

  WITCHING MOON

  CRIMSON MOON

  SHADOW OF THE MOON

  NEW MOON

  GHOST MOON

  ETERNAL MOON

  DRAGON MOON

  DAY OF THE DRAGON

  DARK WARRIOR

  BEYOND CONTROL

  BEYOND FEARLESS

  Anthologies

  CRAVINGS

  (with Laurell K. Hamilton, MaryJanice Davidson, and Eileen Wilks)

  ELEMENTAL MAGIC

  (with Sharon Shinn, Carol Berg, and Jean Johnson)

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

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  South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  DARK WARRIOR

  A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PRINTING HISTORY

  Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / September 2011

  Copyright © 2011 by Ruth Glick.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form

  without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in

  violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN : 978-1-101-54389-4

  BERKLEY SENSATION®

  Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY SENSATION® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  CHAPTER ONE

  SHE WAS TWENTY miles from safety when disaster struck.

  The desert had cooled off, and Sophia Thalia was driving along Blissful Canyon Road, back to the spa where she and the other women of her ancient family ran a luxury retreat for the rich and privileged.

  Sophia had always lived there, always accepted the responsibilities that had fallen on her from an early age, but tonight’s contentious meeting of the Sedona Business Association had worn her out.

  As she emerged from a stand of junipers, she leaned forward, watching her headlights cut through the desert darkness.

  At night on this desolate stretch of road, she was always a little on edge until she reached the turnoff to the resort. This evening it was worse because she couldn’t shake the feeling that danger lurked around the next outcropping of red rocks.

  When she spotted the small white sign for the Seven Sisters Spa, she sighed with relief, until her premonition slammed into reality. Something came hurtling out of the darkness toward her SUV, and she swerved past the shoulder, almost plowing into a piñon pine before she regained control of the vehicle.

  The car rocked back and forth, then settled into a pocket of loose, dusty soil. Her gaze shot to the windshield. Whatever had zoomed toward her had vanished.

  Had a bat changed course at the last minute? Or had she managed to dodge whatever it was?

  When she tried to drive back onto the road, the wheels spun, digging the vehicle further into the unstable surface.

&nb
sp; “Hades,” she muttered as she cut the engine. A tow truck could pull her out, but she’d have to wait here for hours.

  She made a low sound of disgust, thinking this was the perfect ending to her trying week at work. The new massage therapy and meditation rooms she’d been pushing for were going to cost a lot more than the original bid. She’d been trying to get some of her sisters to agree that the extra expense was worth it, but so far her point of view was losing.

  Then the supplier of the handwoven rugs they sold in the gift shop had gone bankrupt, just when they were running low on stock. Which meant she’d have to find another alternative—quickly.

  Fumbling in her purse, she found her cell phone, but when she tried to get a signal, nothing happened. The phone was dead, although it shouldn’t be. She’d made a point of charging it that afternoon when she’d gotten the bad news that she was going to the meeting in town.

  It had been her younger sister’s turn to take that duty, but Mrs. Finlander, one of their frequent guests, had made a special request to have Tessa give her a before-bed massage. Really, anyone could have done it just as professionally. But Tessa had developed a rapport with the woman, and she’d asked Sophia to go to the meeting.

  Now she was stuck about three miles from the spa. An easy walk. Too bad she was wearing a creamy yellow suit and high heels. But a pair of running shoes was in the trunk. And a T-shirt and shorts, come to that.

  Once she changed her clothes, getting home would be no big deal. Out here in the desert, the moon and stars were brilliant, more than enough to light her way. Yet the idea of climbing out of the car sent a shiver up her spine.

  As she peered out the window, she saw headlights in the distance. Someone was coming, and hopefully she could get a ride.

  She climbed out, waving a manicured hand as the lights approached. Whoever was in the other car roared past, leaving her standing in his backwash. Did he recognize her? Was he one of the people in town who thought the Thalia sisters and cousins were witches because of the way they retained their youth and beauty?

  She allowed herself another curse as she walked to the back of the vehicle and clicked the trunk release. The casual clothing was where she’d left it, in her carry bag. After changing into the running shoes, she reached to shrug off her suit jacket, then changed her mind. The idea of getting undressed on the side of the highway had her nerves jumping again.

  To calm herself, she took a deep breath of the desert air. It smelled clean and fresh and reassuring, and she wondered why she was so spooked.

  After slinging her purse over her shoulder, she started up the road, her eyes fixed on the white sign for the turnoff to the spa. It was a refuge for her and the other women of the Ionian Sisterhood who had come here long ago, seeking a place where they could practice the ancient arts they had brought from their home in Greece.

  As she walked, she heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel shoulder behind her, and all her vague fears came crashing down on her.

  She started to run, wondering if there was any chance of getting away from whoever was stalking her.

  He answered the question by streaking past her at speeds no normal human being could attain, stopping about twenty yards in front of her, blocking her path.

  In the darkness, she couldn’t make out many details, but she saw he was wearing a white T-shirt and tight-fitting jeans. His hair was dark, but the shadows hid his features as he walked slowly toward her, young and cocksure in the moonlight.

  In that terrible moment, she knew who he was. Not his name. But everything about him told her that he must be a Minot, one of the men who had hounded the Ionians down through the ages, since they had made a devil’s pact with the ancient warriors.

  None of them had attacked the Sisterhood in years, and perhaps that had made them too lax in their security measures. Of course there were wards around the property and a guard at the gate, but now Sophia was alone and vulnerable on a dark desert highway. Like in that Eagles song.

  Her throat was so tight that she could barely breathe, but she kept her eyes focused on the man who advanced toward her. Even while she kept him in sight, she sent her mind toward the resort, hoping to get a silent message to Tessa, her real sister, the one who was closest to her in all the world.

  I’m on the highway. Just a few hundred feet . . .

  Before she could say more, he raised his hand. He was holding a small cylinder, and when he pressed on the top, a mist whooshed out and drifted toward her.

  The second she breathed it, her head began to spin, and her body stopped obeying her commands. Her mind told her to turn and run, but her legs wouldn’t move. She was rooted to the spot, like a desert animal frozen in the headlights of an advancing vehicle.

  The man waited a moment for the cloud of gas around her to dissipate. Then he tossed the cylinder away where it clanked against a rock as he walked purposefully forward, his gaze never leaving her.

  When he stepped in front of her, she should have been able to see his face better, yet each feature was blurred. Still, she sensed that his eyes were large and dark, his brows heavy, his lips curved into a smile that was as arrogant as it was sensual. If she had met him at the spa, she would have seen him as a vital, desirable man.

  And she might have made love with him. Totally on her terms. Because that was the Ionian way.

  Yet she wasn’t the one in control here, and she knew she was in danger.

  “I have you now,” he murmured, touching her lips with one long finger.

  She tried to speak, but no words came out of her mouth, and sending a mental message to her sisters had become impossible.

  All she could do was stand facing him as his hand moved to her cheek in a sultry caress.

  He smiled again, showing her his gleaming white teeth, while his hand slid down her neck, pressing against the pulse pounding there—and sending a shiver over her skin.

  She hated responding to him, but sensuality was part of her being, and she was helpless to fight against the waves of sexual energy rolling off of him—augmented by the paralyzing mist he’d sprayed on her. She knew it was affecting her senses—and her judgment.

  Making a tremendous effort to speak, she managed to say, “Leave . . . me . . . alone.”

  “That’s not what you really want, is it?” he answered in a confident voice as he slid his hand lower, pushing back one side of her jacket so that he could cup her right breast through her blouse. “You’re a sexy, dynamic woman who needs a man to complete her. At his pleasure, of course.”

  She closed her eyes, trying to shut him out as he rubbed his thumb back and forth across her nipple, making it stiffen.

  Don’t. Please don’t. She shouted inside her mind, but she couldn’t make the words slip past her lips.

  This was so wrong. It wasn’t the way any woman should be treated—being aroused against her will.

  Somehow she managed to speak again. “Get off me . . . you . . . bastard.”

  He laughed, a rough, grating sound, and moved in closer. Keeping up the maddening caress on her breast, he slid his other hand lower, finding the juncture of her legs, then pressing through her skirt against her clit, sending an unwanted jolt of sensation through her body.

  “You’re as lovely as I knew you’d be. But all your sisters are so tempting. So young. So vital. So desirable.”

  What was he planning to do? Rape her out here on the highway?

  She prayed that another motorist would come along and see what was happening.

  Or was this like so many instances of modern life when strangers weren’t going to get involved? Even if you were lying on the sidewalk bleeding.

  Teeth clenched, she steeled herself against the man whose hateful touch sucked her into a vortex of his making.

  Desperately, in her mind, she said one of the ancient supplications that had sustained her Sisterhood throughout the centuries. Once they had prayed to the Greek goddesses, but their thinking had evolved so that they had come to see one di
vine force in the universe.

  Spirit of the Earth

  Hear my plea

  I am but a mortal woman

  Standing before you.

  But I humbly ask for your aid

  In the hour of my need

  As the Ionians have done through the ages.

  Even as she clung to the ancient words, she could feel herself falling further under the attacker’s spell, bending to his will no matter how she struggled against the unwanted arousal coursing through her body.

  He tipped up her head, staring into her eyes, and she heard him gasp. “You’re not . . .”

  Before he finished the sentence, everything changed with the suddenness of a lightning bolt spearing out of the sky.

  CHAPTER TWO

  SOPHIA CAUGHT HER breath as another man came streaking out of the darkness and into the scene. Like the attacker, he was dark haired and well muscled, although he wasn’t close enough for her to see his face.

  His voice was loud and commanding. “Take your dirty hands off her.”

  “What the hell?” The attacker whirled to face the newcomer.

  “Get away from her.”

  “You dare interfere.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of outrage.

  “I do.”

  “I think you’ve made a mistake. She is mine.”

  “No.” He bit off the one syllable as he charged forward, his fist flashing out, striking a blow to the first man’s chin.

  At least she thought she’d seen the punch, because it happened in a blur of motion, the way both men had come out of the desert.