The Warlord by Gena Showalter (free ebook reader for pc .txt) 📕

Remaining penis-free had been difficult. Hades had skills! Who could resist his silken voice, sinful hands and wicked mouth? Don’t even get her started about his incredible body. But resist she had.

Taliyah smiled slowly, fully assured of her power. She would be General or she would die trying.

She’d fought for the title her entire life. She had died for the title—many times. Born to lead. The knowledge saturated every fiber of her being. Under her command, harpies would thrive, and enemies would fall.

Never been closer to my goal.

So why am I so dissatisfied with my life?

Her mood soured. There seemed to be holes in her heart, left by the first blades to pierce the organ. Whatever contentment Taliyah managed to garner, she lost soon after.

Everything would change when she became General, though. Surely! Long-lasting satisfaction would become hers for the taking.

“So what are we going to do after this?” Neeka asked. “Watch Henry Cavill do absolutely anything? Call Jason Momoa? His number just magically popped into my mind after only hours of searching for it. Or we could update our friends’ mythology online with more facts? Oh! Let’s retool Hades’s family history, so his first wife is also his sister.”

“We’re definitely updating Hades’s history, but first I’ve gotta meal-prep. I’m craving Italian.”

Taliyah’s diet consisted only of soul, or pure energy. Unlike Blythe, who went weeks between meals, Taliyah indulged once a day. Her current fare lived in the dungeon, her version of a refrigerator. The (former) rapists had grown too feeble to strengthen her, their souls no longer regenerating. Tonight, she’d finish them off and find their replacements.

“Steal me a marshmallow sundae while you’re out,” Neeka said. “Make it a double. And don’t let the ice cream melt. Also, make sure they know the number of cherries added is the number of fingers they’ll have when you leave.” Pause. “Yes! All done.” She lifted the branding iron from the flames and grinned. “Time to get aburnin’.”

As her friend skipped across the room, the tool in hand, and took a position behind her, Taliyah placed a thick rope between her teeth and bit down.

Inhale. Exhale. Okay. Ready.

“You’re gonna do great,” Neeka assured her. “On the count of three. One—” She pressed the blazing iron into Taliyah’s nape.

A bellow lived and died in her throat, murdered by determination. Heat swallowed her, every ounce of her sizzling. Sweat dotted her brow and dripped from her temples. The scent of frying meat inundated the air, and she nearly gagged.

“Mmm.” The other harpy smacked her lips. “If we had marinated you in butter, I would be digesting you right now.”

With a wheeze-snort, Taliyah spit out the rope. “Cannibalism...always hilarious,” she managed to eke out. Harpies drank blood, but only as medicine and only when needed.

Taliyah focused on her breathing. In, out. In, out. Good, that was good.

Neeka returned the branding iron to its hook before cleaning and bandaging Taliyah’s wound. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you need to work harder and faster to earn your final stars. I’m a queen, and I want to be friends with other queens, not average soldier-peasants.”

Another snort. Completing eight of the ten prerequisites had required extra time—because she’d doubled or tripled each requirement, just to make a point. I can, so I did.

The ninth, though...the sacrifice. The task she needed to complete before she earned the right to challenge the current General. So far, the task had proved impossible. She’d given things away. Killed important people. Freely offered her time, her strength and her resources to other causes. Apparently, your motives must be pure for the sacrifice to count. Right now, she had no ideas for a next move.

Never accept a picture of defeat. A mantra Taliyah lived by. She’d fight until she succeeded or died for real. “I believe your husband the king divorced you when you murdered him that third time,” she said as her friend tossed her a T-shirt.

A while ago, Taliyah’s sister Kaia found herself betrothed to a Phoenix king. The girl had already fallen for a demon-possessed dude, though, and she’d refused to wed anyone else. To prevent an all-out war, Neeka had agreed to wed the guy instead. She’d owed Taliyah a big favor. Huge! See, a few weeks before, Taliyah had killed her favorite avatar in her favorite video game to save Neeka’s favorite avatar. The loss cut deep.

The wedding should have been a typical Friday night. Murder a king before the honeymoon kicked off, loot his treasury, free the immortals he’d kept as slaves and put his palace in their rearview. And they’d done it.

They’d known the king would revive, and they’d looked forward to the ensuing war. What they hadn’t expected? His ability to find Neeka anywhere. Needing a secret lair, Taliyah had bargained with friends to buy time in a place known as the Realm of Blood and Shadows. There, she’d mined rare and precious bloodgold buried in the mountains, which she’d then used to purchase time in this world. The Realm of the Forgotten.

The beauty of this place? As the name suggested, everyone everywhere forgot you the moment you entered. Unless, of course, they bore a special tattoo to remember you.

“As soon as I gain control of the harpy army,” Taliyah said, “we will destroy the phoenix. You have my word.”

The muscles in Neeka’s shoulders suddenly bunched with tension. “The collision...it’s already happened.”

Collision? “What are you talking about?”

“They’re here.” Her friend’s gaze drifted far, far away, to a land unseen by others. “The game has begun.”

“What game?” Taliyah asked, only then realizing the harpy was in the midst of a vision.

“He has drawn his cards. Now he plays his hand. Prepare. The next move is yours.”

The bedroom door swung open, hinges whining. Tabitha Skyhawk, mother of four, matron of dishonor, merciless killer and perpetual bachelorette, stumbled inside the chamber. She looked as if she’d just escaped a blender. Battered, bruised and bloody. She clutched an arm to her chest: her hand