Pema's Storm: Rowan Sisters' Trilogy Book 1 by Brenda Trim, Tami Julka, Amanda Fitzpatrick Page B
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filled the room and she was disoriented. She had no idea how long she had been out of it, but felt a burning sensation in her limbs. Her sisters’ screams filled her ears and she tried to move toward them, but her body refused to obey.
She lay panting for long moments while the noise settled and her sisters went quiet. Frantic, she shouted their names, but they didn’t respond to her. Fear twisted her gut at the thought of them being injured. Only one person could have done this. She had no doubt that it was Claire. It was Pema’s fault that her sisters were hurt. They had to be alive or she would never forgive herself.
Warm liquid dripped off her arms from a million tiny cuts that littered her exposed skin. She turned to look at her legs and groaned. As she tried to lift her head, it throbbed and felt like a lead balloon. She sat still, gathering her strength and trying to clear the dizziness.
When the pressure in her head eased a bit, she lifted her eyes and realized her left arm had gone through the glass case and was stuck in the broken doors of the display cabinet. She finally managed to glance down and then wished she hadn’t. Bones were sticking out of her right arm and left thigh. Oddly, it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as she thought it should. She was sure that shock kept most of the pain at bay.
She tried to cast a pain-relieving spell so she could get to her sisters, but nausea assailed her. Silence descended over the room, or maybe she had blacked out again, she couldn’t be sure. Smoke, thick and cloying, poured in through the missing front windows. Her beautiful Ferrari was in flames at the curb.
Anger, hot and sharp, had her cursing. She began coughing and grimaced at the pain in her rib cage. She added a broken rib to her list of injuries and wondered again if her sister were okay. As much as her injuries allowed, she searched the rubble for sight of them.
Unable to see anything, it took every ounce of strength to pull her left arm free. Her attempt to stand up brought sharp pain and made her stumble. Her leg gave out and she fell back down. Thankfully, Isis crawled to her side and Suvi was right behind her.
“Thank the Goddess. Are you guys okay?” Pema asked as she laid her head back and saw Bhric, Suvi’s bat, flying erratically overhead.
“Pema…holy shit, your arm! Oh Goddess, your leg, don’t move! I’m going to put pressure on them and it’s going to hurt. Suvi, call Jace and see if he can portal here,” Isis ordered. Pema knew it was bad if they wanted Jace to portal to her. The pain now wracking her body only confirmed her suspicions. She cried out when Isis pressed on her injuries.
Isis’ eyes hardened like a storm-laden sky as she snarled, “I’m going to find that bitch and kill her. She isn’t getting away with it this time. She has fucked with the wrong witches!” Before Pema could agree with her sister’s rant, Isis’ grip tightened and her world went black.
*****
Ronan drove back to his apartment in the pouring rain, replaying the sex with Pema. He was awed by the experience and anxious for more. His mate was a hellcat and fired his blood like no other. The change his thinking had undergone in a matter of hours was mind-boggling. He had gone from not being sure what he wanted, to wanting nothing but Pema.
His cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. Caller ID told him it was the hotline at Zeum. This was the first number he had been given when he arrived in Seattle right after Killian had explained the state of affairs with the demons and skirm. Immediately, he began to worry. Why would the Dark Warriors be calling him? Was it Pema?
“This is Ronan Blackwell.” His bear stirred as his anxiety rose.
A deep, male voice answered his greeting. “Ronan, this is Rhys at Zeum. I need to talk to you about something. Is this a good time?”
“Sure. How can I help you?” Silence met his reply. He waited several agonizing seconds and wanted to reach through the
She lay panting for long moments while the noise settled and her sisters went quiet. Frantic, she shouted their names, but they didn’t respond to her. Fear twisted her gut at the thought of them being injured. Only one person could have done this. She had no doubt that it was Claire. It was Pema’s fault that her sisters were hurt. They had to be alive or she would never forgive herself.
Warm liquid dripped off her arms from a million tiny cuts that littered her exposed skin. She turned to look at her legs and groaned. As she tried to lift her head, it throbbed and felt like a lead balloon. She sat still, gathering her strength and trying to clear the dizziness.
When the pressure in her head eased a bit, she lifted her eyes and realized her left arm had gone through the glass case and was stuck in the broken doors of the display cabinet. She finally managed to glance down and then wished she hadn’t. Bones were sticking out of her right arm and left thigh. Oddly, it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as she thought it should. She was sure that shock kept most of the pain at bay.
She tried to cast a pain-relieving spell so she could get to her sisters, but nausea assailed her. Silence descended over the room, or maybe she had blacked out again, she couldn’t be sure. Smoke, thick and cloying, poured in through the missing front windows. Her beautiful Ferrari was in flames at the curb.
Anger, hot and sharp, had her cursing. She began coughing and grimaced at the pain in her rib cage. She added a broken rib to her list of injuries and wondered again if her sister were okay. As much as her injuries allowed, she searched the rubble for sight of them.
Unable to see anything, it took every ounce of strength to pull her left arm free. Her attempt to stand up brought sharp pain and made her stumble. Her leg gave out and she fell back down. Thankfully, Isis crawled to her side and Suvi was right behind her.
“Thank the Goddess. Are you guys okay?” Pema asked as she laid her head back and saw Bhric, Suvi’s bat, flying erratically overhead.
“Pema…holy shit, your arm! Oh Goddess, your leg, don’t move! I’m going to put pressure on them and it’s going to hurt. Suvi, call Jace and see if he can portal here,” Isis ordered. Pema knew it was bad if they wanted Jace to portal to her. The pain now wracking her body only confirmed her suspicions. She cried out when Isis pressed on her injuries.
Isis’ eyes hardened like a storm-laden sky as she snarled, “I’m going to find that bitch and kill her. She isn’t getting away with it this time. She has fucked with the wrong witches!” Before Pema could agree with her sister’s rant, Isis’ grip tightened and her world went black.
*****
Ronan drove back to his apartment in the pouring rain, replaying the sex with Pema. He was awed by the experience and anxious for more. His mate was a hellcat and fired his blood like no other. The change his thinking had undergone in a matter of hours was mind-boggling. He had gone from not being sure what he wanted, to wanting nothing but Pema.
His cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. Caller ID told him it was the hotline at Zeum. This was the first number he had been given when he arrived in Seattle right after Killian had explained the state of affairs with the demons and skirm. Immediately, he began to worry. Why would the Dark Warriors be calling him? Was it Pema?
“This is Ronan Blackwell.” His bear stirred as his anxiety rose.
A deep, male voice answered his greeting. “Ronan, this is Rhys at Zeum. I need to talk to you about something. Is this a good time?”
“Sure. How can I help you?” Silence met his reply. He waited several agonizing seconds and wanted to reach through the
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