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
Every Monday night, Harvest Fellowship's deacons gathered in the pastor's conference room, twenty men selected by the congregation who best represented Christian values and assisted Pastor Adrian Michaels in carrying out the ministry of the church. Rhychard knew most of those men, had hung out with them, had dinner with them. He had even worked alongside them in several ministry projects. Of course, that was before Renny accused him of cheating on her and dumped him. Now, no one at Harvest Fellowship would even say hello to him.Miles Evans had been an exception. The man loved gossip and didn't care where he got it. Rhychard had known that about the man since he met him. Miles enjoyed his off-colored jokes that were borderline crude, which had surprised Rhychard considering Miles was a leader in the church. Of course, it was now quite obvious that something was rotten at Harvest Fellowship, and that standards were preached, but not followed.Men started slipping out of the glass door o
So much for Christians being meek. David was a thick mass of swinging arms and thrashing legs as he tried to straddle Rhychard's waist. He kept lashing out, connecting wherever he could. It took several blows before Rhychard could twist his hips enough to toss the heavier man off him. He used the excess of his jacket to slow the swinging fists from pummeling him into one giant bruise. Rhychard didn't try to defend the accusations, just his body. He rolled on top of the squirming man and caught each of his fists. Once he seized both of David's fleshly weapons, he pinned them to David's chest and pressed down. Rhychard's ribs screamed as the angry deacon kicked and twisted under him trying to get free."David! David, knock it off! I didn't do it." The man wasn't listening. Rhychard needed to become a better observer of body language. "David, don't make me hurt you! I didn't set you up. I was here talking to Renny when I saw Buttercup get out of your car. I didn't know what was going on a