Index Diana Hunter [Submission 01] Secret Submission [EC] (pdf) Trina Lane [Perfect Love 05] The Perfect Balance [TEB] (pdf) Chalker Jack L W Ĺwiecie Studni 1 PĂłĹnoc przy Studni Dusz (pdf) Dale Goldhawk Getting What You Deserve The Adventures of Goldhawk Fights Back (pdf) Harry Harrison Stars And Stripes 02 Stars And Stripes In Peril v3.0 (lit) Deborah Siegel Sisterhood, Interrupted From Radical Women to Girls Gone Wild (pdf) Alan Burt Akers [Dray Prescot 07] Arena of Antares (pdf) Christy Poff [Internet Bonds 09] Terms of Surrender [WCP] (pdf) Alan Burt Akers [Dray Prescot 14] Krozar of Kregen (pdf) Arthur D Howden & Robert Louis Stevenson Porto Bello Gold (pdf) |
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] waterfalls and other natural wonders. Overhead rang the raucous calls of birds and small mammals. A heady perfume of tropical flowers and rich, damp volcanic earth filled my nostrils. Higher in the sky, the gulls soared ahead of us as though announcing our arrival. The trail wound slowly upward. My companion and I rounded one last bend and stepped into a secluded glade ringed with brightly colored hibiscus. As we passed into the clearing, musicians began pounding a compelling rhythm on skin drums. We moved forward, along ground that rose in ripples that looked as if they had been formed by the downward movement of an ancient lava flow. The rising ground made for a natural dais at the far end of the clearing, perhaps a hundred yards to the right of a steep waterfall that splashed noisily into a wide pool of water so clear and pure I could clearly see every stone and swimming fish. I didn t waste much time looking at it or any of the other natural wonders surrounding me. Because we had come into the presence of royalty, judging by the arrangement of six thrones carved from the native stone, in graduating sizes and complexity leading to the massive center chair. The thrones were occupied, each chair seating a siren of imperious beauty. While I couldn t be sure, I could almost guess which woman represented which ocean based on their appearance. Each was completely unique in her appeal, coloring, and dress. One throne was empty. I presumed it was for the Atlantic queen who no longer existed. They were dark skinned and light, Asian and Caucasian. One woman bore a particularly striking resemblance to Ren presumably her mother, queen of the Mediterranean branch. A tiny woman with Japanese features was, I assumed, the ruler of the Sea of Japan. On the center and largest throne sat a tall blond woman who looked remarkably like me, only better. A lot better. Her blond hair was loose, flowing unhindered to the waist of a crimson lavalava hemmed in glittering gold. Her skin was too fair to actually tan, but it had the hint of a warm glow. All of her features were beautiful, but her eyes . . . her eyes were unforgettable. Because while she had the body of a youth, one look in those storm gray depths and you knew she was ancient. There was both wisdom and cold, implacable pragmatism in her gaze. I knew I should look at each of the queens, take their measure. But I couldn t seem to look away from Queen Lopaka. Even without the benefit of my vampire talents I would ve felt the power in that clearing. It was thick, thrumming, almost a separate, living presence that grew with each passing moment. Ren appeared beside Hiwahiwa and the two of them led me forward until I stood directly in front of the row of thrones. The drumming continued, growing in intensity as more women, sirens all, filed into the clearing, sitting on the ground in groups of four or five on either side of the main path. At a tiny gesture from Lopaka, the noise of the drums and the murmurs of the crowd stopped in an instant. The rushing splash of water was deafening in the sudden silence. Hiwahiwa bent almost double before her queen, her long hair brushing the ground at her feet. Your Majesties. I present to you the abomination, Celia Kalino Graves. Abomination. Great. Just great. Although I suppose it was better to find out right at the beginning where I stood. She means no insult. It is simply a label for what you are: not human, not siren, not even vampire. The voice in my head was calm and melodic, as if it was set to music I couldn t quite hear, a song so heartbreakingly pure that I d never forget it if I did. I shook my head, trying to break the spell. It didn t help much. But that was all right. The warmth of the unheard music clashed in harsh counterpoint against the harsh words of the tiny Japanese queen. She rose from her throne next to Lopaka. Glaring at me with cold, dark eyes, her beautiful features twisted into an expression of disgust. Again the words formed inside my skull. This creature, this . . . thing . . . has no place among us. Siren blood may be in her veins, but it is blood corrupted. She was summoned to appear before us weeks ago. Where has she been? She hasn t even the decency to show respect by bringing a gift for the queen of her line. There was no sound, but I could feel the stirring of their minds against mine. Psychics. They were all psychics. Well, I d guessed as much and Hiwahiwa s actions on the way here had warned me. Had she done it deliberately? I was grateful either way. Each voice in my head had its own melody. Some beautiful, some harsh. It wasn t [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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