Aeon War Page 7
“You’re going to live, if you were interested in knowing. Touch and go for a moment there, but I think we worked everything out,” Doctor Bak told him.
Gar could do nothing but nod. He was weary, exhausted really, and sleep took him once more.
When he woke again, a dark blue female was sitting at his bedside.
“Ah, you’re awake,” she said. “I’ll be briefing you.”
And at that, the woman told Gar a lot of what he already knew, and then what he was dying to find out.
“Your friend Sarah, and our friend Fib made it to the weapon, where the Earthling deposited her crystal into the mouth of the volcano. This created a large reaction that we didn’t expect to happen so quickly. It looked as though the two would be lost.”
“But they weren’t? Gar asked.
“No, they were picked up by a ship,” the woman said.
“That’s great news,” Gar said with a smile. It was quickly wiped from his face.
“It was not one of ours,” the woman finished, and Gar felt an anguish and despair he had never known.
****
Moments after boarding the ship, it rose in the air and flew away from the exploding volcano. A door slid open nearby, and Sarah’s mouth fell open as a familiar presence entered her mind.
“Hello, love,” Henry said.
THE END
You've enjoyed the Sensual Abduction story, and now it's time for it to end. Aeon End is the fourth and final entry into the steamy series, where Sarah and her alien lover Gar fight to end the Aeon terror once and for all, while striving to keep the passion between them burning.
About The Author
Amelia Wilson has dedicated her life to writing. She is a firm believer in the power of love to conquer all, and her works reflect this belief. Her paranormal romances are known for their love stories, action and suspense. She creates immersive worlds that are rich in detail and full of emotion.
Amelia can be contacted at her Facebook page or through her newsletter.
http://www.ameliawilsonauthor.com/
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Amelia Wilson
Sensual Abduction Series Other Books
Preview of Rune Sword
Rune Sword
Rune Series Book 1
By:
Amelia Wilson / J.A. Cummings
Prologue
An icy wind whipped across the field where the people stood, flickering torches in their hands. The laborers had finished digging pit, and longboat had been lowered down into the hole. A sheet of silver was laid on the floor of the boat, with silver shackles attached to its four corners.
From the village behind them, a solemn procession approached. The warriors and the vala – the wise woman and shaman – walked at the forefront. More warriors, heavily armed with double-headed axes, brought up the rear. In the middle, bound with silver chains, the Draugr chieftain rocked and screamed his fury and his fear.
The warriors took the Draugr and wrestled him to the pit. He was shaped like a man, but his vampire nature was clearly revealed by the long black fangs he gnashed as he struggled. His bloodshot eyes were wide with fear and rage.
He fought like a wild beast, but the silver around his body weakened him, and they were able to overcome his resistance. They flung him onto the silver plate, still bound by his chains, and shackled him at the wrists and ankles. He screamed in agony as the silver burned into his flesh.
The vala intoned the words of a binding spell as she held a mighty sword in her hands. The runes inscribed into the blade glowed brightly. The power was alive.
They placed the sword on top of the Draugr, sealing him into his grave. They could still hear him screaming after the last heap of earth was added to the barrow. The screaming would last for weeks.
Chapter One – Exhibit
Nika Graves hurried through the museum, headed for the special gallery. The last guided tour of the day for the traveling exhibit was scheduled to start in just a few minutes, and she had promised Tamara that she would be there. A long meeting with the museum docents had made her late... again.
She reached the velvet rope just before the guard snapped it shut, closing off the exhibit for the day. She saw Tamara waiting by the massive wooden gate that marked the entrance to the display, and her friend smiled when she approached.
“About time you got here! I thought you were going to leave me all alone with these Vikings.”
They were as different as two women could be. Tamara was blonde and blue-eyed, but with an edgy style that hinted at her job as a bartender on the rough side of town. Nika was lithe and elegant, with long, flame-red hair and bright green eyes. Her style was more conservative. Despite their differences, they had been friends for years.
The exhibit was on loan from the Royal Museum of Stockholm, and it featured priceless artifacts recently discovered in the remains of a Viking ship burial. The wooden gate that Tamara was standing beneath was a replica of two dragon boat figureheads. The dragons roared silently above them as they entered the gallery.
Nika had always been fascinated by the Vikings, and having this exhibit in her museum was a personal thrill. As the assistant curator, she was delighted to have the opportunity to present her passion, Nordic history and mythology, to the general public. She hoped that people enjoyed the exhibit as much as she did.
Tamara’s reactions would be her guidepost. Her friend was not a stupid woman, but she had a tendency toward flightiness that verged on the annoying. She had virtually no sense of history and certainly would never have studied it on her own. If the exhibit could grab and keep her attention, then Nika could rest assured that the general public would enjoy it, too.
They strolled through the temperature-controlled boxes in which the artifacts were displayed. The glass was specially treated to block UV rays, protecting the fragile treasures within. They were also bullet proof and airtight, which would prevent accidental damage or excessive moisture from causing the objects to decay.
“This is weird,” Tamara said.
“What is?”
“I can’t believe that they buried a whole boat.”
“It was common for a Viking chieftain or person of note to be buried in his or her boat. It was a mark of status and a great honor.”
She looked at the label on the case before them. Inside, the Swedes had created a perfect scale miniature replica of the burial as it was first laid in the ground. She pointed.
“See, the man they buried holding the sword - he was a very important person in his day. It’s just a shame that they haven’t been able to figure out his name.”
“But why the boat?”
“He’d need it in the afterlife.”
“But he’s dead.”
“He would live again.”
Tamara shook her head. “It still seems like a waste of a perfectly good boat.”
She laughed. “To each their own.”
They continued through the rooms of the gallery, following a path that roughly matched the outline of the longboat that had been the unnamed chieftain’s coffin. In the very center of the exhibit, in a darkened a
rea illuminated only by carefully-aimed spotlights, was the central artifact.
It was a Viking sword, the one that had been buried in the cold hands of its master all those centuries before. The lighting was arranged so that the runes etched into the blade could be seen, the play of shadow making the symbols appear more clearly. Nika was well versed in Futhark, both Elder and Younger, but she could not make out the words that the runes were spelling.
“That,” Tamara said, “is one hell of a pig-sticker. That bad boy would leave a mark.”
Nika smiled but did not reply. Instead, she leaned closer to the glass, peering at the runes.
A deep, resonant voice spoke behind her. “I don’t think you’ll be able to read it.”
She turned, surprised, to see a tall man in a black suit, his blond hair perfectly coifed. He had an earpiece in one ear with a curling wire leading down into his suit coat, and he looked for all the world like a member of the Secret Service. He smiled.
“I’m sorry to startle you, Miss Graves.”
Tamara drifted to stand behind the man, but where Nika could see her face. She mouthed ‘wow,’ to the embarrassed curator, who quickly turned her attention back to the stranger.
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mr. …”
“Thorvald,” he said, offering a handshake. She accepted, and her hand vanished into his huge grip. “Erik Thorvald.”
“A pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” He smiled. “I’m an attaché from Stockholm.”
“Oh! Then this is your baby,” she said, gesturing to the sword.
He looked at the ancient weapon with a jaundiced eye. “Not mine, I assure you.”
“Has anyone been able to determine what those runes say?”
Thorvald looked back to her with a smile. “No. Not yet. Some scholars in Sweden believe that it might be encoded, which of course makes no sense at all.”
She laughed. Behind Erik’s back, Tamara was waving good bye, winking at her friend as she backed away. She put her hand to her face, mimicking a phone in the universal sign for ‘call me,’ and then vanished into the crowd.
Her companion looked over his shoulder. “It seems your friend has abandoned you.”
“Well, history isn’t really her thing.”
“Too bad.” He looked around the room, a flash of sudden anxiety in his clear blue eyes. His tone abruptly changed from warm and friendly to all business. “Please enjoy the exhibit. I have to -”
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Preview of Love Beyond The Wall
Love Beyond the Wall
A Rizer Wolfpack Series Book 1
By:
Amelia Wilson
CHAPTER ONE
Cara couldn’t sleep.
How could she? In the morning, she would be forced into a marriage with Aldrich. It didn’t matter that she didn’t want to marry him. Cara had no other alternative. Not anymore.
She could still remember what it was like before the town had walls built over ten feet high surrounding it. There were mountains in the distance, beautiful sunsets. Back then Cara thought she’d climb those mountains. She thought she would escape her father and leave all the ugliness behind.
People would talk about the big cities beyond the mountains. Cities that welcomed all walks of people, even the new race of people who changed their shape. These big cities still had the kind of things that Cara’s mother used to talk about. Taxi cabs, television, and phones that made communication possible across great distances.
The cities who did not fight against the shifters were allowed to carry on as they were. People like Cara’s family, who rejected the new race were pushed out of the established communities and forced to build new towns, and ways of surviving without any contact with the Shifter accepting cities.
Eventually war broke out among the shifter cities. At least that was what Cara heard. People left the cities, and so did the shifters. The order of the world forever changed.
Cara thought that perhaps the shifters were misunderstood by the people of her town. She wanted to believe that the world would eventually return to the kind of order it once held. She wanted to believe that the shifters were good.
Then they came.
The creatures who walked like men but were not men at all. They were monsters, wild beasts. Every man attacked by them died. Their bodies were brought back in pieces.
It wasn’t long after the hunting party was slaughtered that the wall was built. At first it was only five feet high. When more hunters were killed outside the wall, the townspeople added to the wall. It grew higher every year, cutting out more and more light from the people inside.
For seven years Cara, and most of the people of Aldrich Town, were trapped behind the walls. It was a cage, and it was only going to get smaller for Cara when she married Aldrich.
The man was in his forties, while Cara was not even twenty years old yet. Cara knew him to be a cruel man, just like her father.
If it wasn’t for Cara’s uncle, Mortimer, she might not know that there were men who were kind.
The men of the town angered easily. Many of them took out their frustration on anyone weaker than they were. When this happened, it was up to Aldrich if the person causing trouble got to stay, or was pushed outside the wall to be killed by the shifters.
All matters were taken to Aldrich. When Cara once asked her uncle why Aldrich was in charge he said, “He owns the food. Aldrich owns the weapons. He owns the wall. Aldrich owns the people of his town because without him they starve, are defenseless, and die.”
When Cara’s father took to beating her, the neighbors called in Aldrich. Cara was thirteen years old when he came to her house that night to answer the complaint. He arrived with a rope, ready to tie up her father because he was not interested in justice so much as he was interested in not being bothered.
When he saw Cara, he entered the home and sat down at the dinner table with Cara’s father. He promised to spare him if he kept her untouched by other men.
A virgin.
Aldrich said he would return for her when she was ripe.
Cara didn’t understand most of what he’d said, but she knew she didn’t like how he looked at her. She didn’t like the way Aldrich would follow her home from the schoolhouse after that.
She was relieved when Aldrich married Paulina. Cara thought that since he’d married, Aldrich had forgotten her. Cara believed she was free of him.
Up until two days prior, Cara believed that she would be like every other young woman in town and choose who to date and who to marry. When Aldrich came knocking, Cara knew she’d been mistaken. Aldrich hadn’t forgotten her. Not at all.
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