Phantom Warriors: Riot Read online

  Phantom Warriors: Riot

  by

  Jordan Summers

  Phantom Warriors: Riot

  Copyright 2012 by Jordan Summers

  Published by Jordan Summers

  Formatted by Ironhorse Formatting

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to jordansummers.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work. This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to places or persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  Note to Readers:

  This story is a total and complete work of FICTION. I took many liberties with the town of Cherokee and the Cherokee mythology incorporated in this book, twisting and distorting it to fit the ‘fiction’. The town is beautiful and so are its people. I have the utmost respect for the Cherokee Nation and the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. If you’ve never had a chance to visit, I highly recommend going, so you can see for yourself.

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Jordan Summers

  Author Bio

  CHAPTER ONE

  Riot clenched the summons in his hand and glared at it. In all his years as a Phantom Warrior, he’d never been summoned before the Atlantean King until this week. Nor had he been summoned before any other king for that matter. He scowled at the missive. This made the third one in a matter of days, since he’d returned from Earth. His mind flashed to his brethren, Phantom Warrior Linx. It was that damn cat’s fault that he was in this mess.

  He should’ve never allowed Linx to talk him into smuggling Taylor Shelley onto the ship. Riot had only done so because the woman would’ve been killed had she stayed on Earth. In his mind, the threat of death superseded the actual ‘rules’ put in place by the Atlantean people for gathering fertile females. Not that he expected the King to see it that way.

  The fact that the Taylor’s sister was Linx’s mate…well, that simply complicated matters.

  Riot stared at the giant rock slab doors that guarded the Throne Room and took a deep breath. Deceiving the King was wrong. He knew it. But for him, honor and friendship trumped fealty. Riot had no doubt that the King would disagree. He made a mental note to beat some sense into Linx the next time he saw him, then growled under his breath and threw open the doors. He stepped into the Great Hall and scanned the long aisle that led to the crystal throne. This might be his third visit, but he didn’t like it any better than the first two.

  Long tables fanned out on both sides of the aisle, separated by only a few feet in order to accommodate large crowds. Today, they were empty. Perhaps this would be a private meeting. The thought had barely had time to settle in Riot’s mind, when he spotted a small group of people orbiting the throne. So much for a private meeting. Riot’s massive shoulders tensed a notch. He didn’t want an audience, but if there were others here, maybe he’d been summoned for a routine reason—not because of the mistakes and bloodshed that had occurred on his last mission to Earth. He glommed onto that remote chance, minor though it may be.

  Linx, that lazy good for nothing cat, still hadn’t bothered to petition the Atlantean King for permanent residence for their stowaway. Instead, he’d dumped the helpless woman on Hades, the Dark King, knowing she wouldn’t be discovered.

  Hades only ruled a small part of Planet Zaron, but the Dark King was formidable. No one crossed him and lived. Fortunately, Riot hadn’t had to deal with the Dark King…yet. King Eros was bad enough.

  As Riot approached the people hovering around the throne parted, revealing a large, blond-haired man dressed in a loincloth. His chest was bare and softened hide enclosed his feet. Perched upon the glowing green and blue crystal throne, the man leaned forward, as if in anticipation of his arrival. One look at the Atlantean King and Riot’s tension skyrocketed, twisting his muscles into tight knots.

  King Eros’ gaze appeared lazy, which belied his intense scrutiny.

  Riot dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “You summoned me, your Highness?” The question was a formality. They both knew that he wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t been summoned. Riot glanced up and met the King’s eyes. His thoughts immediately turned to food, though he was not hungry.

  The King might look soft with his long hair and pretty features, but he was a powerful Atlantean. And like all Atlanteans, he could read thoughts.

  Eros’ blue eyes brightened with amusement. “Are you hungry, Phantom Warrior Riot?”

  “Yes,” Riot said, automatically thinking of platters filled with roasted meats.

  Eros’ eyes glittered and his mouth pressed together as if to seal off laughter. “It’s strange that you’re always in need of nourishment when I call for you.”

  “Yes, your Highness. Truly odd coincidence.” Riot purposely kept his expression blank as to give nothing away.

  The amusement vanished from Eros’ handsome face. “Do you know why you’re here?”

  Riot slowly shook his head and pictured an apple pie. “No, your Highness.”

  Eros shifted, his thick muscles flexing and tightening as he moved forward on the throne. “I read your incident report about the violence that occurred during your last mission.”

  Riot remained silent and thought about the hamburgers he’d had on Earth. He’d especially loved the ones covered in ketchup and extra pickles.

  Eros’ brow furrowed. “You really should eat before you come here.” His gaze flicked to Riot’s stomach, then back to his face. “As I was saying, I wanted to speak with you about the deaths that occurred. You said in your report that they were unavoidable.”

  They’d gone over this multiple times. So many in fact, that Riot wondered if the King expected him to change his story. That wasn’t going to happen. Riot rose from his kneeling position. “My Phantom brother, Linx was fighting for his life and the life of his mate when I arrived. He was outnumbered. The humans were armed with weapons made of steel. They fired metal rounds that were meant to lodge within the body.”

  Eros’ mouth tightened. “I am familiar with guns,” he said. “What I can’t figure out is why a gun would have been a problem for a Phantom Warrior.”

  “It wouldn’t have been, if not for the safety of the women—woman,” Riot corrected.

  Eros rose from the throne. “Women? Your report stated that there was only one woman.”

&nbs
p; Riot thought about french fries smothered in gravy and his stomach growled. Several of the Atlanteans present took a step back as if they expected him to shift into his bear form and eat them. Riot nearly snorted. None here were to his liking. Besides, they’d be far too tough.

  The King’s lips twitched and Riot stiffened. His last thought must’ve gotten through. He immediately went back to thinking about ice cream shakes and toasted buns with thick burgers wedged in the middle.

  “I misspoke, your Highness. There was only one woman that I can recall,” he said. “Phantom Warrior Linx later claimed her in order to save her life. Had I not arrived to help, we might have lost her.”

  Eros’ muscles tensed and his nostrils flared. Anger radiated from his pores. Like Riot, the King wanted to kill the men all over again for what they’d done to Linx’s mate, Tabitha. “I trust there will be no further incidents,” Eros said.

  “Definitely not, your Highness.”

  Eros nodded. “Good,” he said. “You’re dismissed. I expect you to be on the next transport back to Earth.”

  “But, your Majesty, I just returned. Shouldn’t a few of the other warriors have a chance before I’m sent back out?” This was punishment for omitting information. Riot knew it, but he couldn’t exactly call the King on it without implicating himself.

  “Are you questioning a direct order?” Eros asked.

  Riot felt his face pale. “No, Sire.” He turned to leave. Eros’ next words stopped him short.

  “I trust if any new details of the event jar your memory that you will let me know immediately,” he said. There it was, the suspicion that had been lurking under the surface the whole time.

  Riot looked back over his shoulder. “Of course.”

  “Oh, and Riot,” Eros said.

  He swiveled to face the King once more. “Yes, your Highness.”

  “Do get something to eat. Your hunger is mentally…distracting.” The King’s lips twitched.

  He knew. There was no doubt in Riot’s mind, but somehow he managed to keep his composure. “Yes, your Highness. Right away.”

  Before Riot made it three steps, the stone doors flew open and a small brown-haired woman swept into the room. “There you are.” Her gaze bypassed Riot to settle on the King. A golden-haired boy, the future king of Zaron, and a beautiful chestnut-haired girl, whose curls hung halfway down her back were hot on her heels.

  The little girl saw King Eros sitting on his throne and squealed, “Daddy!” As she raced forward, arms outstretched.

  Her brother watched Riot closely as he passed, his green eyes as off-putting as his father’s aqua blue ones.

  Riot bowed. “My Queen,” he said.

  Rachel smiled at him. “I swear I will never get used to people calling me that.” She shook her head and glanced at her husband. “We’ve been looking all over the palace for you.”

  The second the King’s gaze landed on his wife, his blue eyes began to glow. People may have questioned his return after so many years away, but there was no denying the love he felt for the human woman, standing before him.

  Something in the vicinity of Riot’s hearts throbbed. He hadn’t experienced any kind of connection with the women on Earth. Certainly nothing like the kind he saw between the royal couple. Oh, he’d tried. His body had been more than willing to ‘test the waters’, but his size seemed to intimidate the females of the species. Riot couldn’t really blame them. Even among the Phantom people, he was considered large and rather intimidating—not that anyone would be able to tell that from the King’s reaction to him. But Riot had heard his Phantom brothers joking about him on the ship. The harsh words would’ve hurt, if there hadn’t been a thread of worry laced with the humor. They hid their concern with laughter, while Riot hid his pain with silence. He stopped at the stone doors and glanced one final time at the King and Queen. They appeared to be so happy. Riot was under no illusion that he’d find the same happiness.

  ***

  Nina Whitetail walked down the sterile hall toward her grandfather’s hospital room. The smell of urine, blood, and antiseptic cleaners battered her nose and soured her stomach. Why did all hospitals smell the same? No matter how much they cleaned they could not cover up the odor of death. It clung to the walls, the light fixtures, and the very skin of the workers with its sticky cold fingers. She shuddered and took a deep breath through her mouth. It did little to help. She pressed on, trying not to gag. When she reached the nurse’s station, she stopped.

  “How’s Harold Twofeathers doing today?” she asked.

  The nurse recognized her and gave her a wan smile. “He’s hanging in there, but there’s been no improvement.”

  No improvement was better than him getting worse. Right? The lie slipped easily into Nina’s mind because she wanted so desperately to believe it. “Thanks for taking such good care of him.”

  Compassionate eyes met hers. “He’s a wonderful man.”

  “Yes, he is,” she said. Nina reached her grandfather’s room and paused long enough to paste a smile on her face. The act was as much for her benefit as it was for his. It helped ease the dull pain of impending loss. She’d been dealing with the grief for over six months.

  Nina knew when she walked in the room that she’d find him propped up in bed, his once strong muscles wasting away. It was like an invisible monster took chunks out of him while she was at work. She couldn’t stand to see him like this and would change places with him in a heartbeat if she could. Not that he’d let her. Her grandfather, Harold Twofeathers, was a proud man, who believed in the old ways. Life circled and that was how it should be.

  “Stop hovering outside my door like the coyote, Little Deer,” his warm voice called out, even though there was no way he could’ve known she was there. The cancer might be eating his body, but it hadn’t touched his mind or his Shamanic abilities.

  Nina stepped forward, forcing her legs to move her into the room. “Shi-yo, Grandpa. You’re looking better today,” she said.

  “Hello.” His warm chocolate-colored eyes sparkled as he patted the lumpy chair beside his bed. “Did you know that your nose twitches when you lie?”

  Her hand rose to her face to cover her nose. “Does not.”

  He laughed. “Come here, Little Deer. My eyes are not what they used to be.”

  Warmth spread through her at the continued use of the endearment. “Your eyes might not be, but your hearing is just fine.” Nina grinned at him and did as he asked.

  The second she sat, his large hand reached out to cover hers. His copper skin stretched like crinkled paper over his boney knuckles. Life may have beaten the padding out of them, but you wouldn’t know it from his warm gentle touch. Nina carefully squeezed his hand, then didn’t let go. Maybe if she just held onto him, death would be unable to take him away. It was a child’s hope. She knew that, but in her heart she couldn’t stop praying that somehow a miracle would occur and her grandfather would recover. She needed him.

  His soft brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “Don’t be sad, Little Deer. There’s no need to fear the Great Spirit. I have spoken with him many times. He waits on Kuwah’ hi for me to join him.”

  “Well, he can wait on the Sacred Mountain a little longer. You’re not going anywhere.” Nina sniffled and quickly wiped all hint of wetness away.

  He patted her hand. “Not yet. I must remain until you’re settled.”

  Nina rolled her eyes. “Then you’re going to be here for a while.”

  Harold chuckled. “So what have you been doing today?”

  Nina sighed. “Stocking up on bandages and antibiotics. The bear hunts are about to begin.”

  He looked at her, his warm expression quickly turned serious. “Stay out of the woods. I don’t want the Sheriff to arrest you again.”

  “You know I can’t do that. Too many animals need me.” He’d never told her to stay out of the woods in the past. Oh, he’d warned her not to get near the crazy white hunters because they might mistake her for an anima
l, but he’d never told her to stay out of the Smoky Mountains and the surrounding areas. It was tantamount to saying ‘stop breathing’. “I’ll be fine, Grandpa. You know I’m always careful.”

  “It’s not you that I’m worried about,” he said. “The spirits have been whispering to me. They tell me that powerful magic is coming.”

  “You know magic isn’t real, Grandpa.” Perhaps the cancer had spread to his brain after all. Her heart dropped as she battled the pain to keep it from showing on her face.

  “Oh, it’s real.” He touched her heart. “You just need to open your eyes to see it.”

  Nina knew she could keep her eyes open forever and the most that she could hope to see was a rerun of Harry Potter.

  “The ancestors are singing The Bear Song. I hear it most everyday,” he said. “I think this time it’s going to draw the Great Bear out of hiding.”

  Her grandfather had always loved The Bear Song. In his youth, he’d gladly joined in to sing along. Talk of it usually made her happy, but now it just frightened her.

  As a veterinarian, Nina could logically understand the ritual of performing the song, but she hated its end result. Every bear season brought an increase of dogs and horses being shot, along with too many bears for her peace of mind. She was always inundated with injured animals this time of year—most of which she couldn’t save.

  Hunting wasn’t allowed in the Smoky Mountain National Park and was highly regulated on the Qualla Boundary, but that didn’t stop a few hunters from wandering into places they shouldn’t be. Bear Season also brought out the poachers. Not satisfied with killing just one bear, they had to trap and kill as many as possible. Of course, it was illegal, but that didn’t stop them. The mountains and the woods were vast. Hunters could easily evade law enforcement.

  “You are frowning again, Little Deer.” Harold Twofeathers smiled. “Let me tell you a story.”