Dream Warriors 3_Kane Read online

  Praise for the writing of CYNDI FRIBERG

  Dream Warriors 2: Ryder

  Enjoy this short, hot paranormal story. The fast paced plot will draw you in and the wonderful characters will keep you turning the pages until the very end.

  -- Trang, eCataRomance Reviews

  I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys paranormal tales with heroes that are sexier than sin. Dream Warriors 2: Ryder is a keeper!

  -- Susan White, Coffee Time Romance

  Fans of paranormal romance with a mythical twist will enjoy Ryder.

  -- Patricia Green, Romance Reviews Today

  Action packed and with a good supporting cast, you’ll enjoy the ride and be looking for more.

  -- Holly, Euro-Reviews

  The action doesn’t let up, and the storyline is well-paced and interesting. This paranormal book was a nice surprise for me not having read any of Ms. Friberg’s books before, but Dream Warriors 2: Ryder can stand alone.

  -- Aggie Tsirikas, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

  Dream Warriors 2: Ryder is now available from Loose Id.

  DREAM WARRIORS 3:

  KANE

  Cyndi Friberg

  ®

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book is rated:

  For explicit sexual content and graphic language.

  Dream Warriors 3: Kane

  Cyndi Friberg

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © October 2005 by Cyndi Friberg

  Excerpt of Desert Moon: Cael copyright August 2005 by Alicia Sparks

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 1-59632-168-7

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Maryam Salim

  Cover Artist: April Martinez

  www.loose-id.com

  Prologue

  Kane caught one of Lyra’s nipples between his teeth and closed his lips around the tender crest. Her soft gasp sent desire twisting through his body. Had Aphrodite ever fashioned a mortal woman more beautiful than his wife?

  Lyra arched her back, encouraging his exploration. Her fingers moved through his hair, holding him close and urging him on. He suckled with long, firm pulls. She panted softly and parted her thighs.

  She was always wild when he returned from war, and this campaign had been especially long. Easing his hand between her legs, he groaned at the wet heat awaiting him. He wanted to savor her luscious body, hear her cries of passion again and again, but he had been without her for too long.

  He stroked her, aroused her to a fever pitch before settling between her thighs. She circled his waist with her legs and found his mouth with hers. Seeking, demanding, her tongue slid against his and curled around it as he pushed his shaft into her welcoming core.

  They groaned together, their breaths mingling. “Oh, my love. How I’ve missed you.” He whispered the words against her sweetly parted lips.

  She tightened her inner muscles, dragging a moan from Kane’s throat. He pulled back and thrust deep, filling her, joining with her. All the lonely nights on the cold, hard ground seemed a lifetime away.

  He was home.

  Clutching his back and matching his rhythm, Lyra cried out sharply. Her core rippled around his shaft, driving him over the edge. Kane dragged her hips off the fur pallets and drove deep, emptying himself against her womb.

  Their harsh breathing filled the air. He lowered her bottom to the furs, her long legs still circling his waist. Supporting his weight on his knees, he smiled into her eyes. “We shall never be parted this long again. I will see to it.”

  She brushed her fingers against his cheek, tucking his damp hair behind his ear. “I was going to wait for just the right moment, but I’m too excited to wait.” Her voice sounded breathless and laden with emotion. Moonlight gleamed in her wide, blue eyes.

  “What could be more exciting than what we were just doing?” Kane separated their bodies and rolled to her side.

  Lyra chuckled and splayed her fingers against his chest. “The two are connected.” She paused for a smile. “I shall bear your child at summer’s end.”

  His heart lurched, and his mouth dried up. Did she think him an imbecile? While he had battled their enemies, she had given herself to another man. His dreams turned to ashes and fury filled his heart. He shoved her hand away.

  “Are you not pleased?” She stared at him with guileless eyes.

  Kane couldn’t breathe. He pushed to his feet, raking his hair with both hands, his back to his faithless wife. “I may be a warrior, Lyra, but I know how long a child remains in its mother’s womb. If you give birth at summer’s end, it is no child of mine.”

  Pausing to glare into her tormented eyes, he turned and stormed from the room.

  Kane plunged into utter darkness. Swirling sensations pulled him this way and that. He struggled against the unseen force, flailing, writhing within the void. His feet found purchase, and a distant light dispelled the darkness.

  He stood on the vast, empty plane of the Dream Realm, shaking with sorrow and rage. The years rolled away, decades, then centuries. His confusion mounted. This wasn’t right. Lyra was part of his mortal life, long dead, all but forgotten.

  Through discipline and determination, Kane had banished the pain of his past. He was a Dream Warrior now, accomplished and proficient. Kane constructed images so vivid mortals couldn’t distinguish them from reality.

  His breaths came in ragged gasps, and he braced his hands against his knees. He hadn’t summoned Lyra’s likeness, so how had she appeared?

  Despite their command of this dimension, Dream Warriors didn’t dream.

  Chapter One

  The Great Hall of Morpheus

  Kane stared into the reflection pool, his hands clutched behind his back. It was his responsibility to report any anomaly to the Dream Master. Still, he was an intensely private person.

  “You may as well speak. Your frustration has already disturbed me.”

  Shifting his gaze, Kane saw Morpheus’s image on the surface of the pool. Surrounded by a solid black robe, Morpheus undulated in and out of focus. Kane turned and faced the Dream Master.

  “I’m not sure the incident is worth reporting.”

  “You wouldn’t be here if that were the case. What happened?”

  “Images came unbidden to my mind.”

  The golden nimbus surrounding Morpheus flared, revealing features that hadn’t been there a moment before. “Explain exactly what happened.”

  “I had just completed my mission, and I was making my way across the Dream Realm when I was… sucked into…”

  “The images were unpleasant?”

  “Yes
.” Kane suppressed the memory of Lyra’s tear-bright gaze. “Is the succubus confined? This has Delilah written all over it.”

  “Delilah is in Tartarus. I checked on her yesterday.” Morpheus passed through Kane, sending a shudder down his spine. When Morpheus was distracted, he often lost track of his semi-corporeal body. “The stubborn bitch has no intention of telling me her name.”

  “Until you know her name, we can’t be certain she isn’t communicating with others of her kind.”

  “True.” Morpheus glanced into the reflection pool, his nimbus stabilizing. “I’ll put more pressure on her, for all the good it will do. Only her maker can disperse her energy, and I don’t know who made her. I can control her when I’m with her, but I’d rather not spend the rest of my existence babysitting that obnoxious --”

  Boots slapping against marble interrupted his thought. Ryder strode into the hall, his movements mechanical and his expression tense.

  “This is a surprise,” Morpheus muttered. “You’ve been rather scarce these past few weeks.”

  Ryder fought back a guilty smile, but dimples appeared on either side of his mouth. “I’ve been busy.”

  Kane laughed. “And we both know what you’ve been busy doing.”

  Ryder was dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. The outfit seemed out of place in the opulent hall surrounding them. Constructed by the Dream Master himself, the hall served as a gateway between realms.

  “What brings you to my hall?” Morpheus asked.

  “A mystery.” All playfulness left Ryder’s tone. “Dora, Sheri’s cousin, is missing, and Sheri is worried sick.”

  “Are you certain she’s missing? Females can be unpredictable.” Kane raised his brow as he looked at his friend.

  “Dora wouldn’t take off without contacting anyone,” Ryder continued when the Dream Master said nothing. “None of Dora’s clothes are gone, and her car is still in the garage.”

  “A missing mortal is a problem for the local authorities,” Morpheus pointed out. “Why have you brought this to me?”

  Kane studied Ryder’s face. Dream Warriors used their influence to prevent calamities and steer mankind away from certain disaster. The disappearance of one mortal woman hardly warranted their attention.

  “We’ve contacted the local authorities.” Ryder paused, raking his blond hair with the fingers of one hand. “Sheri filled out a report, and the officer assured her they’d do everything in their power to find Dora. That’s what concerns me. Mortals are powerless.”

  Morpheus chuckled and turned to the reflection pool. “Show me Dora.” Ripples disturbed the surface of the water, but no image formed. “What’s her full name?”

  “Theodora Gunther,” Ryder supplied.

  “Show me Theodora Gunther.” The pool stirred again. Miniature waves overflowed the pool’s marble walls and splashed Morpheus’s robe. “Interesting. Your mate’s friend is no longer in the Realm of Mortals.”

  “What?” Ryder moved closer to the Dream Master, gazing into the reflection pool.

  Morpheus turned to Kane. “It appears I have an assignment for you.”

  “I can search for Dora,” Ryder objected. “She’s Sheri’s cousin. I should --”

  “Your telepathic link with your new mate will cloud your judgment and hinder your instincts. We need someone less involved in this mystery.”

  “Am I only to locate her?”

  “For now.” Morpheus motioned him closer. “If she is not in immediate danger, return and report her location.”

  Tracking someone across the Dream Realm was no simple undertaking. Kane looked at Ryder, knowing Morpheus’s casual comments had to have upset him. “I’ll find her. When were you last in contact with this female? Did she ever touch you?”

  “I saw her right before we captured the succubus and, yes, she shook my hand.”

  “Good.” Kane extended his arm. “Shake mine.”

  Ryder clasped his hand and transmitted a clear image of the missing human. Tall and lushly curved, the woman had combed her thick, blonde hair straight back from her face and bound it at the nape of her neck. Her image stared back at him with wide, suspicious eyes. Kane released Ryder’s hand with a soft gasp. Those bright blue eyes, that full-lipped mouth, even her tall, curvaceous figure were familiar to Kane.

  “Did Chaos see this woman?” His tone snapped with sudden demand. Kane’s feud with the demigod was old, yet time had not decreased the intensity of Kane’s hatred for Hades’s son.

  “I don’t think so.” Ryder’s gaze narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Chaos was in the house when Dora stopped by, but Sheri insisted he go upstairs.”

  “Why do you ask?” Morpheus wanted to know.

  “I was just curious,” Kane lied. Finding her should be simple. He had a good idea where she was. “I’ll report back as soon as I’ve pinpointed her location. This shouldn’t take long.”

  * * * * *

  Dora tossed on the bed, fighting against the images. She didn’t want to relive these events, but the dream descended all the same. She was twelve again, gangly and introverted, standing outside the library waiting for her older sister Beth. Clutching a stack of books to her chest, Dora looked up and down the empty street. Where was Beth? She’d promised to pick her up when the library closed. That had been an hour ago.

  Footsteps echoed in the distance. Dora ducked into the shadow of the stairs ascending to the library’s main entrance. Why was she such a coward? She had no reason to be afraid.

  “Dora?” Her sister’s voice reached her in the darkness, impatient and annoyed. “Where the hell are you?”

  Dora released her pent-up breath and emerged into the moonlight. “What happened to your car?” She shifted the books to her hip.

  “The piece of junk broke down three blocks from here.” Beth made a bland gesture with her half-smoked cigarette. Moonlight silvered her features and gleamed in her world-weary eyes. “There was no answer at home. Do you want to wait around for Mom or hoof it?”

  They both knew their mother’s routine. Her shift ended at nine. If she wasn’t home by now, she’d headed to one of her favorite “watering holes.”

  “There’s no telling when she’ll stagger home.” A familiar combination of sadness and frustration made Dora sigh. Their mother had started drinking three years before when their father walked out of their lives.

  “If we cut through City Park, we can make it in under an hour.”

  Dora’s heart lurched at the suggestion. City Park wasn’t safe after dark. It was barely safe in the light of day. “I’d rather walk around.”

  “Enjoy the trip.” Beth headed off without her. “I have to be up for work in the morning, and now I have to take the frigging bus!”

  Rushing to catch up, Dora licked her lips and matched her steps to Beth’s hurried stride. City Park was long and narrow. If they walked all the way around, it would double the distance to their apartment complex.

  A massive wrought iron arch marked the entrance to the park. Paths branched off into the darkness, winding through leafy trees and shadowed gardens. The fresh scent of grass, pine trees, and flowers drifted on the night wind.

  Dora caught her bottom lip between her teeth and clutched the books before her like a shield. Her heartbeat raced, blood rushing through her ears. They were helpless. Why couldn’t Beth sense the danger?

  “Beth, I want to go back.”

  Her sister glared at her and stopped long enough to light another cigarette.

  You don’t have to watch this. A deep male voice penetrated her terror. Think of somewhere else, and I’ll take you there.

  “Did you hear that?” She covered her mouth with her hand, tears blurring her vision.

  “Hear what?” Beth sounded more bored than annoyed.

  “A voice. I heard a man’s voice inside my head.”

  Beth laughed. “They have pills for that. Stop stalling”

  This dream is about to become a nightmare, and your mind is resist
ing my guidance. Picture somewhere else.

  The nightmare awaiting Dora was all too familiar. She pictured her dojo and the scene wavered, starting to morph. “Wait! The only reason I’m afraid is because I’m a little girl. Let me walk through the park as the woman I am today.”

  It won’t make a difference. The past can’t be changed.

  “I have to try.”

  The image shifted, and Dora returned to her sister’s side. Replacing the timid twelve-year-old was a strong, confident woman. A dragon decorated the sleeve of her sturdy white uniform. This was the gi Dora wore for competitions. The stylized dragon identified the dojo where Dora taught self-defense and Kodenkan Jujitsu. Markings on her black belt denoted her ranking as Godan, the fifth of ten “dans” a Jujitsu sensei could achieve.

  Three young men crossed the grass on their right, silent signals passing between them as they approached.

  “Hell of a way to spend Friday night,” Beth muttered, flicking the ashes off the tip of her cigarette.

  Dora watched the men through narrowed eyes, alert and prepared. Her mind was as much a weapon as her body. Long ago she’d realized “no” was seldom enough. Through long years of discipline, she’d learned to channel her fear and combat her desperation.

  One of the men moved directly in front of Beth as a second crowded her from behind. “Hand over your money,” the one in front of her sneered.

  “You can’t get blood from a turnip, sweetheart. Have a nice night.” She shoved him off the gravel path, the tip of her cigarette touching his arm.

  “You burned me, you bitch.” He grabbed her and swung her around. “Watch where you put that thing.”

  “How about I shove it up your ass?”

  The third man moved toward Dora, his eyes glassy and bloodshot. She waited until he neared and went for his legs with a quick, sweeping kick. Her leg passed right through.