Libra Ascending: An Epic Urban Fantasy Romance (Zodiac Guardians Book 1) by Tamar Sloan (adult books to read .TXT) 📗

as green farmland stretches around them. There’s the odd tree, a few more cows, but little else. Isolated is good, Tristan tells himself. Less witnesses.

“We’re getting close,” Tess murmurs tensely.

Dust billows up on top of the rise ahead and Tristan slows. Tess glances around. “What’s wrong?”

Tristan points to the particles slowly dissipating in the breeze. “There are others ahead.”

And they haven’t seen anyone for ages.

Pulling over, he turns the engine off. “I think we walk the rest of the way.”

Tess nods, not questioning his decision. They haven’t verbalized it, but they’ve both thought it—this could be a trap.

Parking the car among some bushes, they hike up the small hill. Tristan reaches the top first, and the moment he does, he jerks Tess back. “Skins,” he hisses.

Tess nods and they go down to all fours, creeping back up and dropping to their stomachs. Three cars are parked haphazardly around a large warehouse.

That means at least six. The bastards always travel in pairs.

“Zarius,” Tess whispers hoarsely.

Tristan scans the countryside, planning his entry. “I’ll go down, you have the car ready to go.”

Tess opens her mouth only to shut it. She might’ve learned to defend herself, but she’s not an offensive fighter. Her shoulders sag. “Be careful.”

Tristan grins. “We both know that’s not my strong point.”

She narrows her eyes. “Or the waffle tradition ends.”

His grin dies. Who knows how many schools he’ll have to enroll in yet. “Fine, then,” he mutters. “But if Zarius goes full soldier on them, then you can’t blame me for any bruises.”

Tess relaxes just like Tristan knew she would. Talking about finding Zarius alive is the reassurance she needs right now.

Planting a hard kiss on her forehead, Tristan sprints for the first tree. Heart thumping, he presses himself against the rough bark. But there are no shouts of alarm, no shots fired. Crouching down, he watches the warehouse. There’s no movement, but he didn’t expect there to be. If there are Skins patrolling the outside, they’d be invisible.

All he needs is a sign…

A leaf flutters toward one of the walls, flicking and dancing on the wind. Tristan watches it with narrowed eyes. It trips up on an eddy then slams to a stop.

Bingo.

The Skin must flick it off, because it flips, trembles and resumes its random flight. One Skin beside the door. That means another on the opposite side. Holding his breath, Tristan counts. One, two.

And the bastard would be around the corner.

Another frantic run and he plasters himself against the next tree.

He waits to discover whether he’s been seen. Nothing.

Five. Six. Seven.

Only a few yards to go. Please let these Skins be ambling like he’s counting on.

Keeping his breathing under control, Tristan lines up the water tank nestled against the side of the warehouse. Silently, he streaks over the grass.

He reaches it, his whole body wired and tense. Waiting for a bullet to penetrate it. The breeze caresses his hair, cooling the sweat at his temple. Silence.

Holding still, Tristan angles his head. Zarius would spend hours having him stand in their constantly changing backyards, listening for crickets. Once he’d heard one, he’d have to locate it with nothing but sound.

And then he’d have to tell Zarius when it had started munching on a blade of grass.

It means Tristan hears the almost silent scrape of a shoe on gravel. The Skin’s coming around the corner of the warehouse.

Slipping a hand into his pocket, he grips the contents.

He leaps, throwing a handful of chalk dust at where the Skin should be and the outline of a broad shouldered man instantly appears. It’s all Tristan needs as he slams his arm into the man’s neck. The man crumples, becoming visible as he loses consciousness, and Tristan catches him before he can hit the ground.

Dragging him around the back of the water tank, Tristan waits to repeat the process.

Dust. Strike to the neck. Make him disappear.

Another few precious minutes to make sure he hasn’t miscalculated and there are more Skins patrolling the outside, Tristan studies the timber door. Probably creaky. Who knows what’s on the other side.

Apart from at least another four Skins.

Invisibility sure would be good right now.

Actually, what would be better is his suit.

Every Zodiac Guardian possesses one, stored within their gem with advanced technology Tristan will never understand. Covering him from head to toe in a molded, protective shell, it would mean he could storm this warehouse wearing his own personalized shield.

But Zarius is a soldier, not royalty. There was no time to learn how to unlock the suit trapped inside Tristan’s tanzanite gem before he jumped in the pod and left the exploding space station.

Zarius has been able to teach him everything but that.

Turning the door handle slowly and evenly, Tristan waits for the inevitable creak. When it fails to fracture the tense silence, he doesn’t let out his pent up breath. He needs to get inside undetected first.

Slipping through, Tristan silently enters. And stops.

On the other side of the warehouse, Zarius is tied to a chair. Head drooping as blood drips onto his lap, six Skins circle him. Here in the warehouse, they haven’t bothered with their invisibility. Their hands flex as they pace, their backs to Tristan.

They don’t know he’s here, which is a good thing.

But there’s more than he’d hoped. Not such a good thing.

Without warning, one of the Skins steps in, slamming his fist into Zarius’s face. A low groan slides through the warehouse and Tristan winces. Things must be bad for Zarius to be showing pain.

“Tell us where the Gemini Prince is,” growls the Skin.

Zarius raises his bloody face to glare at the Skin. He spits a glob of blood at the man’s feet. “Go. To. Hell.”

A second Skin steps in, this time with an uppercut. And then another one. And another. “And once you tell us about his location, you can tell us about the others.”

Tristan skims over the wall to a stack of wooden crates and slips behind them. The sound of fist hitting flesh assaults him again and he