The Warlord Gena Showalter (primary phonics TXT) 📖

their ankles, they couldn’t protect themselves, much less stand. Their wings fluttered like crazy as they struggled for freedom without success.

Rage growing hotter... Where were the other harpies?

Directly behind the captives—each a contender for General—were four men.

The monsters, no doubt about it.

They were enormous, both incredibly tall and stacked with muscle. A wealth of tattoos covered their torsos—Whoa. She did a double take. Did those tattoos move?

They did. But why? What did it mean? She needed a plan.

What would a General do? Aid the captives or hunt for the others?

At the moment, the invaders were distracted by...whatever this was. They remained unaware of the powerful phantom lurking in their midst. There was no better time for a search and rescue. Also, there was strength in numbers. The other harpies could help her save these captives.

What did these men have planned for them, though? Rape? Murder? A little of both? Hatred seethed inside her.

Better stay put.

Where did these monsters come from? What were their greatest strengths? Their weaknesses?

They reminded her of berserkers. Extra-large mutant berserkers on a steady diet of the bones of their foes. Each man wore an elaborate headdress. A mythological creature’s bottom jaw rested on their shoulders, the upper part on their skulls, with saber teeth creating a cage-like effect around their faces.

Taliyah curled her hands into fists. Bloodstained claws extended from their nail beds.

“Come, ladies,” a man called. The man. The one she’d heard before. “Surely someone wishes to claim the title of Bloodthirstiest Harpy?”

That deep voice with its smug undertone drew her gaze toward the throne, where a fifth male reclined.

How dare he claim the General’s seat?

He exuded aggression and arrogance, the ferocity of him awe-inspiring. His headdress was bigger than the others. He was bigger than the others, with a crap ton more of those moving tattoos. Except for a fist-size patch above his heart, the images covered every inch of exposed skin.

I’m going to kill him. The decision solidified, becoming a mission. He would be the first to fall by Taliyah’s hand.

He drummed black claws on the arm of the golden throne. “The bloodthirstiest will be released from her bonds. The rest will spend the next month imprisoned in the dungeon below. Any takers now?”

The girls took turns belting out replies, their tones sugary sweet.

“I’m like walking cotton candy. I practically dissolve in your mouth.”

“Don’t listen to her. She once drove a car into my face! I’m the sweetest.”

“Sweetest? You just admitted to liking the taste of your own face. Bloodthirsty!”

As the women did their best to nominate each other for freedom, the leader continued to drum those claws.

Wanting a better look at him, Taliyah floated closer. Not materializing and fighting to free her people destroyed her.

As soon as she reached the edge of the dais, the leader shifted.

“Did I forget to mention,” he grated, “the bloodthirstiest harpy earns the right to challenge me?”

New assurances rang out.

“Me, me, me! You heard about my face smash, right?”

“Jacoline be nimble, Jacoline be quick, Jacoline will impale you with a candlestick. Hi. I’m Jacoline.”

“I will cut you open and remove your organs one by one—with my teeth.” The threat came from Mara, a woman who’d earned her ninth star. Blonde like Taliyah, and equally pale.

The leader stood, silence descending upon the onlookers. “I believe I’ve found who I seek.”

Not yet. Challenge him? Sign me up.

She had to be careful, though. If someone noticed Taliyah’s appearance, they might suspect she’d keyed in. They might realize she’d misted, might discover her true origins. So, Taliyah returned to the double doors. A quick scan proved every eye remained on the leader. Replacing a dagger with mini-crossbows, she materialized at last. The barest tendrils of warmth unfurled through her limbs.

No time to waste. She shouldered her way to the front, commanding, “Out of my way.”

All eyes zipped to her. Some men stepped out of her path, confused. Others had to be pushed. Most glowered at her, but didn’t retaliate.

In this form, she smelled the blood and sweat of the men. “I hear you’re holding auditions for Bloodthirstiest Harpy, and I’m here for my reading.”

“You,” the leader said, his tone...reverent? Thick shadows cast by the headgear kept his features in hiding, but she could feel the burn of his gaze upon her icy skin.

He recognized her? Had they met before? Perhaps he followed her on social media. Can’t blame him. Her posts chronicled her steps to become General.

Guards drew their swords, suddenly intent on stopping her by any means necessary.

“Do not touch her.” The leader stated the words simply, but every weapon got sheathed in a hurry. Men leaped out of her path.

The authority he wielded, to control so many with a lone statement... Envy swept her up.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” she announced. “I’m Taliyah the Terror of All Lands, the Cold-Hearted, the Enemy of Enemies. My hobbies include listening to the screams of my foes, collecting the bones I sever and avenging the deaths of my people.”

Bypassing the bound harpies a second time required great effort; for the greater good, she managed it. Only when she reached the royal dais did she halt. Your move, monster.

Move he did, lifting the headdress. Powerful biceps flexed, igniting flutters of anticipation in her chest. What would she find? An average Joe? A hideous beast? Maybe a handsome fairy-tale prince?

A thick tracery of veins led her gaze to the tattoo of a beautiful Amazon warrior on his—

A sudden spike of dizziness rocked Taliyah, and she swayed. Her eyesight dimmed, the throne room fading. What’s happening?

Though she fought, a scene opened up inside her mind... A memory?

I stalk through a garden, trailing an Amazon dressed in a blood-splattered ivory gown.

The girl from the tattoo, Taliyah realized with shock.

As she stumbles and flees to the right, then the left, warriors wearing those monstrous headdresses step into her path, forcing her to continue straight ahead, where a massive structure looms. An onyx monstrosity with steps, a raised platform and an altar.

A crowd stands behind it, a thirtysomething