Rhychard found he was pacing again. None of it was making sense. Guardian. Swords. Elves. He walked to the back of his apartment and stared out the window. He had gone crazy. That was all there was to it. No one would believe him. Hell, he didn't believe him. He took a few deep breaths to try to calm his nerves, but it didn't help. What was he going to tell Renny?"I understand that all of this is more than your human brain can comprehend, but we do not have time for you to ponder your fate. John Relco is in danger, and the Destroyer is trying to have him killed. We must protect him."Rhychard recognized the name from Jamairlo but didn't know who it was. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. The last time he helped someone, his world exploded. He ran his hand through his long hair. He just wanted all of this to go away."I will allow you tonight to contemplate the truth of things. Tomorrow, I will return, and we will begin your sword training as I assume you have not used one before the ot
"Well, I can only guess, but I'd say you've made some life-changing decisions lately," Rhychard said. "Gargoyles are servants of the Void, what you would call evil. My guess would be, you lived your life in a way that honored or served the Void and recently made a decision that would put you on the path of the Way, which, basically, you would call good. The Void hates losing members, but then again, what religion doesn't. The Void's exit plan, however, is a little drastic."Buttercup glared at the Warrior. "I am not evil."Tryna reached out and brushed the hair from the girl's eyes. "No, sweetheart, you are not.""Nevertheless, you were living for the Void," Rhychard said, ignoring Tryna's icy glare. "You may not have shed blood or practiced occult sacrifices, but you were living your life for the Void, regardless.":Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired,: Kree's voice sounded in his head. Rhychard ignored him. No one took it easy on him when he discovered faerie tales were re
It was an excellent question. Outside of conquering an establishment of the Way and desecrating sacred ground, Vargas seemed way too hungry for Harvest Fellowship for there not to be something else motivating him. Rhychard tied his long, black hair into a ponytail with a leather thong, donned his long coat over his swords, and left the others in his apartment. Buttercup had calmed down, but only after Tryna put an enchantment on her to make her sleep. He still wasn't sure what to do with the street hooker. As soon as she reappeared on the street, the gargoyles would be after her. She was a liability to whatever Adrian and Vargas were scheming.All across Harbor City, the nine-to-five types made the most out of their weekend. They had traded their suits and ties for shorts and flip-flops as they made their way to parks and malls. The late August air was balmy as it kicked up mini-tornadoes, sending leaves and discarded candy wrappers into a swirling frenzy. Rhychard allowed his jacket t
It didn't take long for Rhychard to discover the truth of the elf's words.The memory scattered as Kree's question popped back into Rhychard's head at the thought of his enemies. I wonder what's there that Vargas wants. Creatures of the Void usually avoided sacred ground, so it had to be more than a taunt on the demon's part. Something had to be there, but what? Rhychard hit the throttle on his Suzuki and did a quick U-turn. It was time to have a talk with Adrian Michaels. It was Saturday, so he wasn't sure the good pastor would be at the church, but it was worth a visit to see. Hopefully, it goes better than the last time I was there.As he neared the church parking lot, he noticed Adrian leaving the building, but he wasn't alone. Rhychard let go of the throttle and coasted into an office plaza across the street to wait. He didn't want to confront the pastor in front of witnesses.Adrian Michaels was a tall man with perfectly manicured black hair and a slender, muscular build. He had
"Criminals? You want me to believe Pastor Adrian hangs out with criminals?" The conversation had definitely not gone the way Rhychard hoped. After leaving Adrian standing in the parking lot with his mouth open, Rhychard went after Renny, hoping to get some answers to questions he couldn't really ask. The whole secrecy thing of being a Warrior of the Way was a giant obstacle for his fishing expedition for information, but he thought if he substituted criminal for demon, Renny might listen. Of course, as with every conversation between Renny and him since their breakup, he guessed wrong. He debated telling her about Buttercup and her role in Adrian's plans, but the way the conversation went, any mention of Rhychard helping a hooker would not help his case. "Rhychard, you've been watching too much television. Maybe it's time you got a real job." Renny stood staring at him, arms crossed defiantly over her chest.He had caught up with her just outside her townhome as she locked up her car.
Buttercup stood in the kitchen in front of a pan of sizzling bacon. She wore one of the long button-down dress shirts Rhychard forgot he even owned. They apparently hadn't found pants for her because as she stretched to reach for some plates, the shirt rode up her thin legs exposing the bottom curves of her firm ass, the flesh slightly paler than the rest of her body. Rhychard's eyebrows went up as he shifted in his seat, but he didn't look away. He couldn't no matter how much decency said he should. She had showered and finished scraping the remaining makeup off that had plastered her face. The transformation was stunning. Her obsidian hair hung straight and loose down her back in a soft waterfall instead of the hair-sprayed curls that had before sat there like a crude bird's nest. Her bronze skin was clean and alive now even if a bruise decorated it here and there, and she had gentle eyes and thin, soft lips that appeared as if they would hold a natural smile.:A real flower, is she
Rhychard glanced back out at the trees behind his house, oaks and elders with a couple of towering pines thrown in. It was an oasis for him. He could walk into those woods, and the noise of life faded the deeper he went, the churning waters of the river calling him, soothing him. He wanted to walk in them now and forget Vargas and Adrian, Harvest Fellowship and cemeteries. He wanted to forget Renny.He felt Tryna's tiny hand on his arm and glanced down at her. "Rhychard, to open a Gateway to the Void takes blood, lots of blood.""And Harvest Fellowship has about four hundred in their congregation on any given Sunday. That's a lot of blood." What is it with demons and blood? Why can't they just once perform a simple ritual with a dance and a chant and then go for an espresso?Tryna returned her gaze to the woods as she turned back around. Dusk cast its long shadows over the earth. "I need to go see someone. I need to see if I can find some answers. We have to be able to turn the tide, a
Kendalais had spent quite a bit of time describing the power of the sword. It was the one weapon the Guardian had made in the beginning. He was a god of creation, not destruction. Yet, he made one for every Warrior he planned on calling and imbued it with the power to detect the Unseelie with a blue glow and radiating heat. Iron is deadly to the faerie, so the Guardian made the swords out of bronze and empowered them with magic that would not only detect the Unseelie but destroy them, as well. He also gave the blade the power to remember. The Warriors passed the Guardian Swords from Warrior to Warrior as each one died and the Guardian called another. Somehow, the sword held the soul of the dead Warrior. The Guardian knew when a Warrior was about to die and called the next, so they would be there to retrieve the sword. It could not fall into the hands of the Unseelie, for they would turn one over to the Destroyer who would then convert it and turn its power against the Seelie. When it w