Terran Realm Vol 1-6 Read online

  Terran Realm Vol 1

  Keira Ramsay, Bonnie Dee, Jeanne Barrack, Rae Morgan

  Published 2012

  ISBN: 978-1-93176-115-4

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2012, Keira Ramsay, Bonnie Dee, Jeanne Barrack, Rae Morgan. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books

  http://LSbooks.com

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Foreword

  Enter the Terran Realm … where passions explode and desires burn hot as Terrans and humans discover their mate or mates. Who will live and who will die as two worlds collide in a battle that may destroy them all?

  Terrans: The species split from Homo sapiens more than 50,000 years ago. As they became increasingly isolated from their human cousins, Terrans evolved into Talismen, Keepers, and Protectors, who battle the evil Destroyers to save mankind and the ones they love. Each developed distinct preternatural abilities to control Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and the Spirit.

  Keepers: Armed with the very power of Mother Earth, Keepers use their extraordinary talent to manipulate the elements of Air, Earth, Fire, Spirit, and Water to maintain world balance. They are one of the most precious resources our world possesses.

  Protectors: The security force for Terrans, Protectors utilize a combination of strength and magic to ensure a Keeper is never compromised.

  Destroyers: Destroyers seek to annihilate everything KOTE (Keepers of the Environment) fought to establish millennia ago … and to a certain extent, they’ve succeeded.

  Talisman: A special Terran, one who can manipulate and control their signature element. A rarity among Terrans, these beings have slowly become more myth than reality, and their importance and talents have been almost lost in the mists of time.

  Dive into the Terran Realm and experience the adventures and challenges of the lusty, the willful, and the destructive. Discover how the mix of love, seduction, and superhuman abilities can steal your heart, sear your very soul, or destroy your world.

  Redemption

  Keira Ramsay

  First Published 2007

  ISBN 1-59578-332-6

  Blurb

  For most of her life, Warden Brenna Kennedy has guarded a book of lore on behalf of a species she’s been taught to loathe. Over the years, she has become convinced the whole thing is simply a legend. Then a handsome Terran, Donovan Callahan, drops into her life, and Brenna discovers the line between loathing and lust is all too thin.

  Corporate bodyguard Donovan Callahan has seen it all, and done it twice. He’s tired, jaded, and really doesn’t give a damn. It takes four horrific events—Hurricane Hugo, Tiananmen Square, the Exxon Valdez, and the Loma Prieta earthquake—to make Donovan realize someone must take action, and that someone is probably him. As a Terran, a preternatural being entrusted with keeping the world in balance, it’s up to him to try and save the world, or watch it all come tumbling down. When he teams up with Brenna, the earth moves—and it ain’t an earthquake! San Francisco will never be the same—and neither will Donovan and Brenna.

  Dedication

  For Moni, who came up with the fabulous idea, Linda and Mike for believing in me enough to give the green light, and Chrissie, Jenn, Pat and Skully, who keep me on the right track. And always, to August, for being my hero each and every day and keeping me straight on the military stuff!

  Author’s Note

  I’ve always listened to music while I’m writing, but especially so in this book, to take me back to 1989. Depeche Mode’s Personal Jesus, The Cure’s Lovesong, The Smithereens A Girl Like You, the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Higher Ground, Living Colour’s Cult of Personality, Jane’s Addiction’s Mountain Song and Jane Says, The Violent Femmes’ Nightmares, the Psychedelic Furs’ House, R.E.M.’s Stand, and Concrete Blonde’s God is a Bullet transported me back. And although Metallica’s Enter Sandman wasn’t released until 1991, it was such a perfect song for this book, I took the liberty of incorporating it in.

  Prologue

  Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, 1863

  I am too young for this, have not witnessed enough, but what I see now, even without my gift, tells me the world is in serious peril. Even as I stand here amidst the shattered bodies scattered over this bloody field, I know this fight has been for a greater good which will be realized only as this young country matures.

  Horrible, stupendous evil approaches. An evil that believes in the supernatural, and will attempt to seek out the Sorhineth and use it for impossible gain. And while the name of this madman is shrouded, his face and ultimate goals are as clear as if he were standing before me. The cunning lunacy gleaming from mud-brown eyes, his vision of the death of millions by starvation and worse, so much worse. The sigil of of his madness, the warped cross, fills me with an unfamiliar loathing, and my ears ring with the phantom sound of jackboots.

  In this future, I see no sign of the Terrans who act as stewards of Mother Earth and mankind as a whole.

  The Terrans no longer even attempt to right the balance, to seek out injustice and impropriety, and because of that—and the future I see so darkly beckoning—I have no recourse but to bury the identity of the Wardens who hold the Sorhineth, our most valued treasure. The Terran soul has become almost irreparably stained.

  Clan Kennedy shall emigrate here, to the new world, and begin their lives anew … hidden from even the potential of danger. And should it arise, in the form of a Destroyer, then they will know intuitively, and keep the sacred book safe.

  If I hide the Sorhineth, then a new future comes clear … over a century from now, a Spirit Talisman will rise and put right the imbalance, beginning the arduous task of bringing the Terrans back to what they hold most closely, their love of Mother Earth. The final moment of atonement will take place within the great pyramid, on the western shore, and the fate of millions will rest in the hands of two.

  * * * *

  San Francisco, California, 1989

  The Destroyer stood on the top floor of the Transamerica building, clenched the ancient paper in his fist and heard the brittle crunch as it disintegrated. At long last, the Sorhineth. There would be no Spirit Talisman, or any Talisman for that matter, interfering in the dynasty he’d spent decades building, what the Keepers Of The Environment—KOTE—with him at the helm, continued to build. Giving up the piece of his soul that tied him to humanity was of little consequence compared to the profit.

  Talisman, he thought with a curl of his lip. They were a phantom of memory, supposedly tapping the true, uninhibited power of their signature element. Only called upon in the world’s greatest moment of need; one hadn’t been even whispered of in over a century. And if he had anything to do about it, their memory would molder with the Sorhineth and its Warden in a locked dungeon.

  The Sorhineth was almost as much of a mystery as the Talisman … even his oldest scribes and seers only knew it held their history, their spells, their prophecies, and was an immeasurable source of power. Until now, until this missive from the past, he had never known its location, and he’d spent a large portion of his long life and considerable resources in the attempt. But now, it might very well finally
be within his grasp.

  Clan Kennedy couldn’t be very difficult to find, not with his vast assets. When he tracked them down, he’d send a nice, clean non-Destroyer to pick the book up. And as soon as it was in his hands, safe in the City, he would dispose of everyone who’d dared cross him over these many years.

  Victory would be his at long last, and as he gazed out over San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate, he smiled.

  Now all he had to find was a Terran with enough skill to convince the Warden of their need, but not one smart enough to realize he wasn’t retrieving it for his own means.

  Chapter One

  San Francisco, 1989, 7:35 am

  Donovan Callahan leaned back in the seat of flight 1245 and closed his eyes as the plane leveled off. It was 21 December and the aircraft was full of families on their way to holiday festivities around the country with a stopover in Boston. He wondered if he’d make it through six hours of spoiled, screaming kids and numb parents without completely losing it. How he could stomach artillery shells and bullet ricochets, but still be annoyed by silly little things, was a mystery.

  It wasn’t that he disliked flying specifically, since he’d seen the evolution of flight first-hand. The difference between the Kitty Hawk and the 747 he was on was nothing short of amazing. What he was about to do fell into that category as well. Protectors like him had become almost obsolete in the last fifty years, not really giving a shit what happened around them, as long as their piece of the pie was safe … and lucrative. For him to be heading out on his own was probably nuts, but it was something he knew, down in his bones, he had to do. He hadn’t felt this much conviction since World War Two, and it gnawed at him, pushing him toward acts of selflessness he’d given up long before Tunisia and Cambodia.

  He’d spent the last fifteen years in private security, bodyguarding whiny, spoiled celebrities, and he was tired of it. So tired he’d left the business in the hands of his second-in-command, Mark, for the duration.

  He reached into his coat pocket and ran a thumb over the smooth triangular jewels on his key fob. It had been a gift from a client just three weeks ago—a quirky old Terran who’d required only that they drive him around the City. It had been too expensive to accept, but as soon as his fingers closed over it, something deep resonated within him. Even now a feeling of peace, of purpose, settled over him. If nothing else, the key chain could serve as a personal reminder of exactly who and what he was. He would do what needed to be done.

  He shut out the input, noise by noise, just as he’d learned to do in Tunisia, and felt himself beginning to drift, knowing what he would see in his dream, even as the vision came.

  Jenalee’s stunningly beautiful voice beseeched him through the telephone lines, brought his father’s Protector nature to the fore as his mother’s Earth Elemental genes surged to tamp it down. As always, Protector won, even in the safety of his own home, with no visible threat.

  “You need to snap out of this. This ‘noble cause’ is going to get us both in trouble. I want my old Donovan back.”

  “You didn’t have any complaints when I was buried balls-deep in you last month.” His words and tone were cruel. More cruel than Jenalee deserved.

  She let out a short, bawdy laugh which totally contrasted with her usually melodic voice. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’ve got no objections when it comes to that, lover. I miss you, miss talking to you, miss all of the things we used to do together as friends.”

  Donovan just sat in silence and waited. He and Jenalee had been many things over the last eighty-five years, but lately, friends wasn’t it. Occasional fuck buddies, yeah, but he was through taking care of Jenalee when her flavor of the week didn’t turn out to be exotic enough. No woman was worth this kind of drama, and their shared childhood was the only thing that kept him coming back, even if he hadn’t seen her in over three weeks.

  “That damned earthquake. It changed everything.” Bitterness tinged her words.

  “Loma Prieta should never have happened, at least not to that extent. Never mind the other shit that went down this year which didn’t directly affect us. As Terrans, we know what we’re supposed to be doing, and it isn’t shopping Union Square or having lunch at the Yacht Club. I’ve just started acknowledging it, unlike everyone else.

  “KOTE feeds us shit and we’re happy to eat it because they take care of everything. They hide up there in their ivory tower making pronouncements from on high. It’s wrong … they’re wrong!” All the anger, the disgust he’d been feeling since the 17th of October poured out, vitriolic and piercing in the close air.

  “Hush, Donovan. You don’t know who’s listening.”

  “Don’t you understand? I don’t give a shit. I’ve had it.”

  Jenalee was quiet for a long moment, then spoke quietly. “You’re not the only one Donovan, but you’re definitely the loudest.” Her tone went almost sad, as if she was imparting something painful. “I heard something the other day… Promise me you’ll come see me first when you return.”

  Her voice was close to tears now. She wasn’t above using hysterics to make a point, but this was extreme even for her. And, as always with Jenalee, he caved in.

  “I promise.”

  “Boston. You’ll find the Sorhineth—and Warden Brenna Kennedy—in Boston.”

  Donovan awoke with a start, heart pumping furiously as Jenalee’s words echoed in his mind. The Sorhineth. The Book of the Terrans. The collected true works of his people. Just the tool he needed to put shit back on the right track.

  * * * *

  Boston, 4:30 pm

  Brenna Kennedy pulled the can of Mace out of her purse, and then took the time to fully survey her living room from the front door. The place had been utterly trashed, stuffing torn from the couch cushions, pictures ripped off the walls, broken glassware from the wet bar glittering on the Berber carpet. The big-screen TV was still in place, as was the state-of-the-art VCR. Her Pioneer sound system sat intact in its rack, and her Nikon hung on the hall tree, undisturbed.

  She started to shake—not with fear, but rage. This was no ordinary break-in. She only hoped she was dead wrong about why her privacy had been violated. And if she wasn’t, then at least the Sorhineth was safe and sound, hidden in the most likely place someone could look, and therefore wouldn’t.

  Ears attuned for the slightest of sounds, she backed out of the doorway slowly, looking warily down the long hallway where the baddie might still be lurking. When her pumps crunched on the scree of snow bordering the sidewalk, she sidled toward the safety of her Bronco, ignoring the snow falling around her in heavy sheets.

  Brenna swung into the truck, jammed the keys in the ignition and sank down in the seat until she could just see over the dashboard, then fumbled for the massive “mobile” phone nestled in its travel case on the floor next to the gearshift. She didn’t give a damn if it was expensive as hell, she was using it, and dialed her brother with trembling fingers.

  She pushed the fury out of her voice when he picked up, because if there was one thing she didn’t want, it was Tommy and half the freakin’ engine company hitting her house like the Patriots’ offensive line.

  “I need you over at my place … now.”

  To give her older brother credit, he didn’t ask questions, just hung up the phone.

  Her heartbeat bumped back down and she began to doubt herself, doubt the reality of what she’d seen. R.E.M.’s Stand mocked her from the tinny speakers. What if she’d called Tommy away from the ‘house for no good reason? What if the rigs had to roll on a blaze and someone died because she was acting like a frightened little girl? When was she going to start acting like the Warden she was, rather than falling back on her brothers?

  She straightened in the seat. According to family lore, it had been almost two hundred years since a Destroyer had “visited” Clan Kennedy, and that had been an ocean away. What made her think she, of all the Wardens, would be the one called upon? Especially when she was so woefully unprepared?
r />   She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, considering and rejecting going back inside her home. This would be the last time she leaned on Tommy, but right now she needed his strength behind her.

  The legacy of the Wardens went back so far their origins had been lost in the mists of time. If her grandmother hadn’t been so resolute about the reality of Terrans and Destroyers in the stories she’d told, and the information passed to Brenna’s mom on Gram’s deathbed, Brenna would have written the whole thing off as a family fancy, and to be honest, had, to a certain extent. Until today. The reason her home had been violated wasn’t as simple as a break-in … it just didn’t feel like one. No, this was about her … about the Sorhineth. She could feel it in her all-too-human bones. And if it was a Destroyer who had left that feeling, she had a lot of catching up to do … as of yesterday.

  The indescribable value of the Sorhineth, even if she couldn’t read more than a few words of it, demanded she keep it out of the wrong hands at all costs … even at the risk of losing her life. The tome had its own protection built in—it faded from sight, and any Terran’s enhanced perception—the moment she was more than three yards from it. Apparently the Terran who’d just ransacked her house wasn’t aware of that little tidbit.

  It was always the youngest of the Clan who held the title of Warden, the baby. And for the last two incarnations, they had been female. Women in families dominated by hulking men who delighted in protecting what they considered theirs. And until today, no one had ever challenged such an ancient right, because there’d been no need to. Gram had died suddenly before Brenna was old enough to walk, making her the de facto Warden without ever really knowing what it meant, and leaving her with almost absolutely nothing to go on but the Sorhineth … which none of them had been taught to read. They’d figured out a tiny bit on their own, but not enough to really understand what the book held. She often wondered if Gram had seen her own death at the hands of a drunk driver, and had begun passing information on to Mom, but it wasn’t nearly enough, especially not today.