Libra Ascending: An Epic Urban Fantasy Romance (Zodiac Guardians Book 1) by Tamar Sloan (top ten books of all time txt) 📕

It’ll either be the last thing he’s ever going to say.

Or he’ll finally stand a chance.

Heat blasts from the stone and Tristan releases it as it flares so bright, he has to close his eyes. Suddenly, sensation explodes across his skin. He tries to identify where it starts, but it’s everywhere. All over him.

Encasing him.

Tristan looks down to find a metal suit the color of midnight purple enveloping him so fast, he knows he can’t blink. It wraps around his chest, expanding down his legs. Simultaneously, it streaks up his neck and closes around his face.

For a second, Tristan feels suffocated. What if he can’t breathe in here? But then his lungs fill with air. He looks around, registering details he hadn’t noticed before. A moldy lettuce leaf protruding from a trash can. A scar on a Skin’s cheek. The scent of Adalind’s fear as she runs back down the alley.

Tristan flexes his arm—whatever the suit is made of, it’s hard…yet flexible. He looks down, realizing the energy of the shift has him levitating a few inches off the ground. He’s surrounded in armor. His senses are heightened.

And it’s possible he can fly.

He looks at the open-mouthed Skins around him. “It’s time for a new game.”

22

Brielle

Brielle has never been more terrified in her whole life as she watches her once best friend stab a man in the back while Skins tug her out of the alley and toward a waiting car.

Things couldn’t possibly get any worse. Tristan is being attacked by invisible foes, Eye Patch Guy just got murdered, and the one person she trusted most has been working against her all along.

Wait, no. Things can get worse. And they will, whenever they get to where the Skins are taking her.

She doesn’t want to find out!

But she’s useless. No matter how much strength she puts into her jerks against her captors, they don’t budge, and every futile effort inflicts more and more pain, and soon-to-be bruises. How are her so-called powers supposed to help her now? How could they possibly help Tristan?

Her panic spikes when she hears the sound of the car door opening behind her and her feet are lifted up off the ground.

No, no, no!

She can’t tell if she’s screaming the words in her head or out loud as every muscle in her body clenches in refusal to be put into that car, her eyelids sealing as if believing the bad things aren’t happening if she can’t see them.

Then suddenly, everything stops moving, and even behind her tightly closed eyelids a blinding light flashes not far ahead.

Brielle hesitantly squints her eyes open, looking up at the Skins that have hold of her arms and legs. They’ve gone still as stone, their stunned faces all aimed down the alley at the fading flash. Her eyes follow theirs to the source of that light, wondering what could be enough to surprise them.

Tristan is at the end of the alley, surrounded by Skins that are ducking as if from an explosion. But it’s not a blast that let out such bright light.

As the glow implodes on the stone hanging from Tristan’s neck, some dark and shimmering purple material seeps out of it, covering Tristan’s body in a pixelated kind of way. From this distance, the substance looks both inky and metallic, mercurial yet scaly.

What have they done to him?

“Tristan!” she cries, certain she is about to watch her potential soulmate die.

But the looks on every visible face that’s frozen in his direction are not expressions of victory, but of dread.

The inky purple has completely covered Tristan from head to toe, and he stands tall, flexing his fingers.

It’s not poison or some alien biological weapon.

It’s a hi-tech suit of armor!

Looking like Iron Man, Tristan slams his fist into the closest Skin, the man’s body flying backward and smashing through the Skins behind him.

Instinctively, Brielle takes advantage of her captors’ distraction and puts every ounce of force she can muster into one final buck. Her arms and legs slip from their grasp, and she scrambles out of reach as they try to snatch her back up.

She sprints at full speed back into the alley, swerving through and leaping over Skins, knowing only that her place right now is at Tristan’s side. She slides on the dirty ground behind him like a baseball player who just made a home run.

Eye Patch Guy’s body lays beside her. Her heart tugs for him, but there’s no time for tears or questions now.

As Tristan uses the body of one Skin as a sling shot against the rest of them, she scans the alley floor for anything she can use to help him. There’s a dumpster, dozens of old wrappers and fallen leaves of all colors. Then something catches her eye. A dented pipe that’s a little over a foot long. That’ll do.

She grabs it and gets into a batter’s pose, ready to swing with all her might at any Skin who gets close. She refuses to be the damsel in distress, or let Tristan take on this burden alone.

Not that Tristan needs her help now that he’s in his suit.

He’s incredible to watch. She’d seen glimpses of the fight before when the Skins were carrying her away, enough to know that the suit isn’t responsible for the skill and grace she’s witnessing.

Before she’s even had a chance to swing her pipe, Tristan dispatches the last Skin standing, slamming his head into the ground so hard it cracks.

Tristan gets back to his feet and turns all around, looking for his next opponent. After a moment, he realizes there isn’t one.

The alley in front of them is scattered with bodies, and from what Brielle can tell, most if not all of them are dead. She finds herself searching the lifeless faces. Adalind isn’t among them. She must have fled.

Tristan approaches her, putting his armored hands on her upper arms.

“Are you alright?” His voice doesn’t sound muffled as she imagined