Rhychard heard screams, but he couldn't tell whose or where they originated. They might have even been his for all he knew. Pieces of the broken table jabbed him in his back and legs, and he felt blood making a trail down his side. Groaning, he tried to sit up. He must get up. Renny needed his protection as did his parents.:Warrior, Baltabek is heading to your home,: Kree sent. Rhychard could hear the elven hound moving toward him through their connection. :He hid among the woods along the creek.:"Rhychard!" Renny shouted, and then he felt her hands on his arms along with someone else's on his other side.:Well, he knows how to make an entrance.: Rhychard sent.He could hear shouts of panic coming from the parking lot and other apartments, people screaming at the sudden explosion.Glancing up, he noticed the other set of hands helping him to his feet belonged to his father. His mother stood by the sofa, her face pinched with concern, and Tryna picked herself up off the floor from whe
Rhychard wasn't sure what he hit, but he found himself spinning backward, the Guardian Sword leaving his hand as he hit the ground with a hard thud, the air whooshing out of his lungs. Scrambling to his feet, a pain tugging at the back of his head from where he hit the ground, the first thing he noticed was Laci sprawled on top of Kree. Renny! He jerked his attention around until he saw her still gripping Jayden's arm as both women lay stretched out on the grass. However, he didn't see the wall he ran into, knocking him back on his ass. Another glance around, and he noticed the salt circle and the three witches sitting on the ground, eyes closed as they chanted. An older man he didn't recognize stood behind Wanda, his face a mask of admiration.A groan alerted Rhychard to Baltabek stirring, and Rhychard lunged for his sword. The demon moved faster, however, and shot a burst of his demonic power at the Warrior, knocking him back against the invisible barrier, the air he just managed to
While their mother piddled in the kitchen fixing them a plate of fajitas, the Valentine sisters sat on the living room sofa, legs folded under them. Maria Valentine put most of the house back in order after Baltabek's attack, but the destruction remained obvious to Laci. She held tight to her sister ever since the Summerlands, scared to let her go. Jayden, of course, fussed at her to stop being a mother hen.Once everyone arrived back at Rhychard's Thinking Rock, a place Renny decided would cause the least amount of sightseers, the witches and Famallumi returned to the Murky Cauldron while Rhychard placed a still-weak Jayden in the back of Laci's car. The eldest Valentine wasted no time or words as she headed straight for home."I almost lost you," Laci said. "I don't know what I would have done if that happened.""Probably moved into my room since it's the biggest," Jayden said with a shrug."That's not even funny," Laci snapped, shoving Jayden's hand away from her in disgust.Jayden
Rhychard Bartlett fell against the coarse stucco of the church column, the rough texture ripping into his back through his shirt as he oozed to the ground. Smoke floated through the morning air, carrying with it the scent of sulfur leftover from the burst of demonic power Vargas used against him, red flames of energy that exploded from the demon's fingers. Rhychard suddenly wished he had kept his duster on as the pain screamed in his mind and explosions of white dots burst behind his eyes like fireworks. He barely managed to maintain his grip on the Guardian Sword with the attack. The blade pulsed a violent blue as heat emanated from the bronze weapon. He could feel the power from the sword, but faintly, the voices of past Warriors a low murmur in his head, instead of their consistent howl. His arm hung limp at his side, blood trickling down as his chest suffered from three long claw marks that left his flesh layered open, revealing torn muscle and tissue beneath. His chest heaved with
The elven hound pressed his massive forehead against Rhychard's shoulder. A tingling sensation coursed through him as he felt Kree's magic knit muscle and tissue back together. Rhychard glanced down as his injuries seemed to shrink back in time, the open wounds finally becoming thin, pinkish lines of new flesh with blood coating the healed wounds the only evidence something had happened. The pain was still a dull ache, but he was no longer in danger.Tryna looked into Rhychard's eyes once Kree finished. "I knew you would be here, at this church, when I felt your pain." There was no accusation in her voice, only sadness. "This is not good, Warrior. This distraction almost killed you."Rhychard didn't answer. There wasn't really anything to say. He came here to remember; he came here, to this church, every day for the past three months because it was as close as he could get to the love he had lost, the love he had lost because of being at the right place at the wrong time. Vargas had be
Rhychard splashed cold water over his whisker-stubbled face, the chill shocking some life back into his mind. His arm and chest throbbed with pain even though Kree had successfully healed the gouges Vargas left. The skin was still pink, and even the elven hound couldn't take away the scars left behind.Rhychard glanced up into the bathroom mirror, water dripping from his face into the dirty sink below. A hollowness seemed to surround his pine bark-colored eyes, giving him a ghostly appearance. His high cheeks had a thinness to them he hadn't noticed before. He knew he hadn't been eating properly but didn't realize his lack of appetite had taken such a toll on him in so short an amount of time. He reached around and pulled his long, dark hair into a ponytail, tying it with a leather thong. He noticed how his biceps bulged and his chest rippled as he did, more than they had before and a contrast to the gauntness of his face. While he had never been buff, he had carried a few extra pounds
His friend only lived a couple of subdivisions away as well, so picking him up was never a problem. Within a few minutes of Rhychard leaving Whispering Oaks, Trace's portly five-eleven frame was riding shotgun, and the two men headed to the warehouse district by the interstate to empty a storage unit for old Mrs. Ivy. Trace was also always ready to go because he never dressed up. He never really dressed down, either. His appearance was as shaggy as his walnut-colored hair which hung to his shoulders. He always needed a shave but never had a beard. It was as if his whiskers grew so far and then gave up. He hid his small tortoise-green eyes behind sunglasses, whether or not the sun was out, which always made Rhychard wonder just how bloodshot they really were. The job was simple. Empty the storage unit and dump its contents in the garage of Mrs. Ivy's son, Justin. Trace came across the job because he was friends with Justin Ivy. "Well, not really friends," Trace had said in a weary voic
It took about an hour to load the truck. The problem with monotonous manual labor is that, while it keeps your body busy, it abandons the mind to venture into dark corners you wish to ignore. Rhychard's mind took him to what Tryna said about the sword's power being hesitant because of his bitterness. The Guardian had drafted him into the god's war, given Rhychard a magical weapon to do battle with, and then punished him because he wasn't all chuckling happy about fighting. Perhaps the races of the Seelie Court felt proud the Guardian chose them as a Warrior, but Rhychard wanted nothing to do with it. Unfortunately, however, he couldn't get out of it. It was a cruel twist of logic thrust upon him, and eventually, it would cost him his life. Of course, without Renny, life was not worth living.By the time they loaded the last box onto the truck, Rhychard's arm was throbbing, and he just wanted the job over. Trace made a couple of cracks about Rhychard getting old and feeble, and by the t