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Rated: GC · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1762230
A plot to free great evil, a cursed warrior, and a gypsy healer. Can they beat the odds?
                                                Chapter Two



“You can take these off now,” Gaden said as she pulled against the straps that bound her hands and legs to the bed. Tied up and defenseless wasn’t agreeing with her at all.But at least the excruciating pain she had suffered for hours was gone.

Jayla eyed her for a moment, decided she wasn’t freaking out anymore, and came to release her. Gaden moved her arms around, doing a mental check on her body. She was still tired, but otherwise good as new.

It had taken Gaden awhile to realize she wasn’t in that horrible cellar anymore, for her to see past the fear she had endured for only god knew how long. It had seemed like she had spent days in that cellar being tortured.

Now, she was looking at three very different women and laying in one of the mansion’s many guest rooms. Jayla, the closest to her, looked like an Amazon warrior in her green and silver kimono shirt and black leggings. The woman had light brown skin and short, choppy, jaw-length copper hair. She had high cheek bones, a straight nose, and lush lips, but she was more beautiful in her strength that her looks.



Leah’s looks didn’t stand out like Jayla’s. Leah had her mossy brown shoulder-length hair pulled back in a tight, high ponytail. She had an earthy, natural look to her. Her eyes were a common hazel and she wore a loose grey blouse and blue jeans that weren’t too tight or too loose.

“How ya doing?”

The question came from the woman Gaden didn’t know, the one with the mess of blonde curls and yellow dress. She seemed very feminine, her voice and manner very soft, making her sound meek to Gaden’s ears.

“Fine. Now, who are you?” she asked shortly. Gaden had learned long ago not to trust what she didn’t know. Even though she didn’t seem a threat, Gaden wasn’t taking chances. She had taken too many of those lately, and it had almost gotten her killed.

“That’s a fine way to treat the person who just saved your life, Gaden Rowley,” Jayla said scornfully as she moved to stand beside the woman. “This is Sarris Alin. Sarris, Gaden Rowley.” Jayla introduced them.

“It’s alright, Jayla. She’s been through a lot,” Sarris said, shrugging.

“Thank you,” Gaden said so quietly she almost couldn’t be heard. She knew she could very well have died tonight, had felt death pulling at her, when the fire had pulled her back. If Sarris hadn’t healed her, then Rylan would be stuck in the Shadow’s forever.  Then she asked, “Where is Gareth?”

The Healer’s exchanged a look and Gaden realized what had happened now. Gareth had been on the floor when they had taken her out the room. He had undoubtedly been unable to block her out and had received a blast of her frantic emotions upon waking. Must of sucked for him, she thought as she recalled how much she had embarrassed herself in there.

At that moment, he came walking threw the door with Michael right behind him, as if he had heard her asking for him. Gareth strode straight up to the bed, his face closely guarded from showing emotion. He was the type of man whose presence seems to take up the whole room, one that could not be ignored. There was a commanding, almost royal air about him. Gaden felt a bit of an Emapth herself as she looked at him. Despite his black canvas of a face, she could feel his anger, his tension, but also sadness, and she felt deep regret for being the cause of it when he’d always given her happiness as her mentor. With a quite sigh, she met his cold eyes and disapproving scowl, and opened her mouth, but he cut her off,

“I want to hear where you’ve been, and who did this to you, and that’s all. We’ll talk later.”

His voice was a deep, commanding rumble she was used to, but the hard tone in it cut right through her. Suck it up, she told herself, and do what you have to.“Gabriel came to see me,” she began, and Gareth growled low, a purely male sound, but he didn’t say anything. She knew he had no fondness for the Archangel. She continued, “He told me I had a brother, but he’d been stolen at birth and enslaved in the Shadows by some sorcerer. I couldn’t leave him there. Gabriel showed me how to get to him, and I went.”

“You went to the Shadows?” Michael spat at her in his loud, rough voice, bringing her attention to him momentairly. Unlike Gareth, Michael didn't allow his anger to build up, but Michael had to keep a reign on how much anger he allowed himself at all times and watch himself or his dark side would overpower him. His temper bubbled in his fierce, almost glowing sky blue eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Gareth remained silent, remained blank, and waited for her to carry on. She had pissed him off a lot in their days, but it hadn’t been like this. He had never been so cold to her.

“I couldn’t leave my bother there,” she replied to Michael, thinking to herself that he would’ve done the same thing had it been Gareth. “So, I went to the Shadow’s and found him alone and locked in a caller, sitting in a chair. I tried to get him out, but he attacked me. It wasn’t him though, I know it wasn’t. It was whatever was controlling him. He was the one who let me go, after he almost killed me. I’m going to get him out, but I don’t think I can do it alone. I came to ask for help,” she paused and looked at the faces in the room, making sure that they understood her determination. They were all quite for a while, all eyes on Gareth as they waited for him to say something. Finally, he said,

         “I need time to think and discuss this with the others,” he said. “You’ll have your answer after dinner.” With that, he turned and left and Michael followed him out after throwing her a hateful look.

         Left with the Healer’s again, Gaden decided she’d rather close her eyes and search for that place of rest, that dark, calm place where she didn’t have to think and feel. Surprisingly, she found it almost instantly. As exhaustion slammed into her, she just let herself fall into that peaceful dark place, but not before the last words her brother had spoken to her before throwing her, literally, up that cellar’s stairs and straight out the doors to freedom. Those two pained words echoed through her mind,

“Help…me.”

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