All Chapters of Warrior of the Way: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Flames surrounded Rhychard, the scorching heat singeing the hair on his chest and arms. He felt the fire's heat burning his flesh, melting his skin. He tried to escape, his arms shading his eyes to protect them from the flames. No matter which way he turned, however, he was faced with a wall of flames that dwarfed even his gigantic size. The gold chain around his neck, as well as the ring dangling on his chest, scalded his flesh. He tried to see beyond the roaring fire, but he couldn't recognize anything. He wasn't in his room or even in his condo. There were no walls. Looking up, there was no ceiling, either. Only stars. How the..? Where am I? How did I get outside?He panicked, first thinking of Buttercup, then Kree. Did they make it out as well? How had the condo even caught on fire? That idiotic elf probably did it putting metal in the microwave or cardboard in the oven. Rhychard never should have allowed the elf to stay. He should have listened to Tryna and sent the apprentice pac

Even in September, the Florida nights are muggy as humidity makes everything thick with its stickiness. It was something Bertram Leary found difficult to become accustomed to since his move to Harbor City. He would never become used to it, he thought, as he stood at the entrance to Feather Lakes—the Bottoms. Hopefully, he wouldn't be here long enough to worry about it.Bertram ran a hand through his gray hair, taking a deep breath as he scanned the surrounding area. There was still quite a bit to accomplish before he could return home to Ireland. His father would not allow it until their task was completed, and so far, it had been slow going. Of course, Bertram was not pleased at being sent to Harbor City to clean up after a demon. However, when Prince Dakath of the Unseelie Court demanded something, the Leary family jumped, as they had for generations. It was the price of being aligned with power—and magic.Bertram wouldn't even be there if Vargas could have done his job. Yet, the dem

Buttercup shut the door behind her and fell against it as soon as she heard the click. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to calm the knots that welled up within her upon seeing Karl Bartlett. She thought she had left the Bottoms and all its memories behind her. It never even dawned on her that Karl was Rhychard's brother. She wasn't even sure if she had known Karl's last name. Last names were irrelevant in the Bottoms. Real names were irrelevant for that matter.She slid to the floor, sitting there in her misery. Would she ever be completely free of the past? She wiped the tears that started to fall with the back of her hands, leaving smudges on her cheeks. She didn't want to think about where she was a month ago, the strange cars she climbed into, the men she had sex with just to pay her bills and eat. Once she surrendered to her fate, Jerome Williams, her pimp, had not treated her badly as far as street workers went, but he made sure she knew she was his property. He never

Rhychard glanced at the small homes, most needed a lawn mower ran through the yards, and almost all needed a new coat of paint. Of course, before they could be painted, they would all need a solid pressure washing. Decades of dirt and grime clung to the walls, dulling the already faded paint even more. Some of the homes possessed broken windows, and only a few of those were boarded up to keep the weather and mosquitoes out. Curtains covered some windows while sheets draped across others to block out the nosy neighbors and passersby. Garbage cans overflowed, and litter filled the gutters and sidewalks. The Bottoms. These people had basically given up on having anything nice and surrendered to the decay they felt overtaking their lives. "Most humans care very much. These people have merely given up," Rhychard said."It is sad, really. However, if you did feel something of the Void here the other day, it would not surprise me. This place seems ripe for the activity of the Unseelie."Rhych

Buttercup tucked a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear as she walked the sidewalk in front of the downtown shops. The morning was closing in on noon, and the humidity draped a sticky blanket over Harbor City. Florida weather was often confusing. September saw many states starting the decline toward cooler temperatures, but not Florida. It stayed hot and humid, the dry air playing havoc with her hair and causing her cream-colored top to stick to her honeyed skin. It didn't bother her, however. She walked the streets long enough to be able to ignore the weather. Besides, she had to get out of the condo before she melted into a pile of emotions. The reappearance of Karl Bartlett brought back way too many bad memories she wanted to forget.Couples walked in and out of antique stores, browsing for some special find to accent a table or shelf. Buttercup just wandered aimlessly, not really having a destination in mind, but just wanting to get lost in the Tuesday crowd. Yet, no matter where