Marie_Harte_-_Gale_Season(1).pdf

GALE SEASON

Marie Harte

Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright June 2006

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be

confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Prologue

Checking up on her charge, a brooding prince and Storm Lord who had no idea she existed, the

last thing Alandra le Aelle expected to see in the grimy little Seattle apartment was bloodshed. She stared

at the ongoing fight in shock, safely concealed by the shadows of the dingy room.

Several Light Bringers, Tanselm’s fierce Storm Lords to be precise, dueled with ‘Sin Garu, a

malevolent Dark Lord and sorcerer who was seriously beginning to piss her off.

She had missed the signs that ‘Sin Garu would attack this soon, and worse, that he’d have the

audacity to steal one of the Storm Lords’ mates, the River Prince’s beloved affai. Only three of the four

Storm Lords were fighting back, and Marcus’ affai lay unconscious on the ground. Prince Darius, the

fourth member of the legendary Royal Four, had returned to his homeworld of Tanselm with a new bride

a month ago.

From what Alandra had observed through her charge, Darius’ marriage would be a strong one,

one that would bode the land of Tanselm well against ‘Sin Garu and his Netharat , an evil scourge that no

one, not even her family, found promising.

“Tessa! No!” Marcus cried from a large pool of red contaminant that chuckled gleefully in a

language only Alandra could hear. Staring at the red goo, Alandra took a deep breath, frustrated that her

intention to remain invisible, and thus effective, would have to change. The red goo, an immature

youngster known more commonly as a Nocumat , clung to Marcus, his brother Cadmus, and even her

charge, prince and Wind Mage Aerolus Storm.

She knew the youngster, Oxcen, would not relent until he had devoured them all. A Nocumat’s

appetite was well-known for being one of the most voracious of the Shadren.

By the Shadow’s Curse, she hadn’t wanted to meet Aerolus like this. Damn Oxcen! She glared

at his spreading substance, at the many hands and mirrored form of Marcus that molded from his red

being. How one of the Shadren came to be in this place, a world with so little magic as to be nonexistent,

boggled the mind.

She shifted her gaze to ‘Sin Garu, who struggled against Marcus’ impressive defense. A thin

sheen of water encased the sorcerer from head to toe, slowly suffocating him to death.

Good. A fitting end to the Dark Lord, considering his quest to subjugate not only the Storm

Lords and their people, but all who opposed his future rule over Tanselm. To that end, he employed ice

wraiths, the rebellious Djinn and a handful of ignorant Shadren willing to believe in his obscene plans.

And speaking of ignorant Shadren... she glared at Oxcen as he toyed with Marcus and his

brothers, and deliberately stepped closer to Aerolus.

Her Wind Mage, as she’d expected, had Oxcen’s appetite in hand, but even he could not hold

the Nocumat back forever. Neither, for that matter, could ‘Sin Garu. What had he been thinking to bring

a Nocumat here, of all places?

While ‘Sin Garu wrestled with Marcus’ magic, Alandra noted yet another complication, and her

head began to throb. Cadmus, the Earth Lord, began flashing as if under a spell. She rubbed her temple,

grimly wishing she had never heard of Tanselm and the Storm Lords. By all that was Shadow, the four

identical princes were more trouble than they were worth. She eyed Aerolus. Well, almost.

A movement to his left caught her attention. As if Cadmus’ odd shifting weren’t enough, the

white-gold fiery form of a man covered in otherworldly black flames low-crawled toward ‘Sin Garu with

his dark hand outstretched, threatening under his breath. A Djinn, a stupid, haughty, trouble-making

Djinn, interfered openly in the presence of the narrow-minded Light Bringers. Had he no concept of what

the Storm Lords would do with him once they rid their world of ‘Sin Garu?

Similar to the Shadren, the Djinn were widely regarded as evil, simply because they preferred,

and even lived in, the Dark. But like Alandra, this Djinn appeared to believe in the Storm Lords’ dynasty,

knowing that only with their powerful leadership could the possibility exist that someday, somehow, the

Djinn and Alandra’s people, the Aellei, might be allowed to return to Tanselm, a land of celebrated

prosperity, wealth and magic.

Tessa, Marcus’ affai, diverted her attention by rising to wield an incredible amount of elemental

and psychic energy at ‘Sin Garu, draining some of Alandra’s psychic energy in the process.

Extraordinary , she thought, staring at the warrior-like redhead with a hint of envy.

What she wouldn’t give to be that tall.

‘Sin Garu faltered, and in that moment, the Djinn grasped his ankle, merging his Dark energy with

the sorcerer’s. Moved by his efforts to free his people, even at the cost of his own life, Alandra sent him

a hint of her magic, pushing him and ‘Sin Garu toward a dark welling in the floor.

A moment later, a loud boom sounded, the noise made by their clumsy reentry into the pathways

between worlds. She had no idea where the Djinn would take ‘Sin Garu, or if the two would even

survive the trip. But she had given the Djinn a chance, one he wouldn’t have had if he’d used his

remaining energy to expel the sorcerer from this world.

“Marcus,” Tessa cried before falling to the floor.

Quickly noting what she’d ignored in her attempt to aid the Djinn, Alandra reluctantly made the

decision to make her presence known. Aerolus could not hold Oxcen back any longer, and her red

kinsman was slowly consuming one Storm Lord while easing his way up Aerolus’ knees. And that would

definitely not do.

Shimmering into the image of her aunt, the Aellei queen, Alandra assumed “the royal presence”

she’d learned through her miserable years spent at court and decided to give young Oxcen a piece of her

mind.

It would be too much to hope that he’d keep the tale of the queen’s visit to Seattle to himself. No

doubt by this time tomorrow everyone in Aelle would know someone had impersonated the queen, yet

another sin to add to Alandra’s lengthening list of crimes against her world and the royal family, of which

she was no longer considered a part.

But she would at least have the chance to meet Aerolus face to face and give him the opportunity

to see who’d been watching over him during his pressing time in this world. She hungrily studied him from

head to toe, from his dark hair and glinting, silver eyes filled with power, to his broad, muscular chest,

and lower, to that other impressive part of him.

She couldn’t help the naughty grin that escaped. Time to show Aerolus her patience had worn

thin. And when she was done with him, maybe, just maybe, she’d finally get the irresistible Aerolus Storm

to herself. What she wouldn’t do for five minutes alone in the dark with the Wind Mage....

Chapter One

Three weeks later

A little to the left, no, stop, don’t move. Okay, two more steps, ah,... there. Now, slowly,

one button at a time. Yes, yes, that’s right.

Alandra/Trudy Warner stared through the telescope carefully positioned in the corner of the

bedroom, obscured from view by shuttered blinds and a large, potted fern should the male under scrutiny

decide to give her window a second glance. She felt ridiculous having the fern near with closed blinds,

but she knew better than to underestimate a Storm Lord.

“Oh yeah, baby,” she uttered on breath and a prayer. “I love that chest.”

Helplessly fascinated and growing steadily more aroused, she watched her tall, strapping

neighbor lose his shirt as he readied, she assumed, for a bath―the light in his adjoining bathroom was on,

and steam fogged the bathroom mirror.

She swallowed around a dry throat, wishing for a glass of water, but refused to leave the sight of

Aerolus Storm stripping down to nothing.

Long fingers reached for the snap of his jeans, his hands graceful and sure as they unzipped the

denim, allowing a brief thatch of dark hair to appear.

Mother of all that was holy.

She stopped breathing, anticipation making her almost dizzy. Come on, Aerolus. Drop them,

already. I’m dying here!

Jeans slid slowly to his knees before he kicked them off, giving her an uninhibited view of sizzling

male perfection. Golden skin rippled as he moved under the sunlight streaming through his room, casting

beautiful shadows of a warrior in his prime. A sprinkling of dark, silky hair covered his upper chest,

tapering over a taut abdomen packed with clearly delineated muscle. The hair trailed lightly down his

belly to frame a thick, mouth-wateringly large shaft that whispered “yours” the longer she stared at it.

Shadows, how she wanted to touch that part of him.

She swallowed loudly, her heart hammering like a ringing alarm clock that refused to turn off.

Trying to rein in her boiling needs, she took a deep breath, then released. Repeating the process several

more times, she finally sighed, hopelessly in lust with the god-like image before her.

Aerolus was so beautiful, so very desirable, and so utterly slow.

Her hands gripped the base of the telescope as she watched him stretch and rub his chest, a

motion she could have been performing had the stubborn man answered her summons.

Instead, Aerolus Storm, both warrior and sorcerer, Storm Lord and Wind Mage, acted as if he

had nothing to fear, as if she hadn’t rescued both him and his brothers from sure death just a few short

weeks ago.

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