To Woo A Warrior (Southern Sanctuary)

BOOK: To Woo A Warrior (Southern Sanctuary)
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To
Woo A Warrior

 

 

 

Southern
Sanctuary – Book One

 

 

Jane
Cousins

 

 

 

 

Copyright©2013.
  All rights reserved

 

This is a work of fiction. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For Dad - A warrior in word and
deed.  Love and thanks for always having my back.

 

And to Tom … for
the sheep.

 

 

Chapter One

 

Time froze. The less than heartfelt
apology for her tardiness dying on Hadleigh Valhalla’s lips as the air was
sucked out of her lungs.

Too late her cousin
Charisse’s
words registered.

“Whatever you do, don’t look
directly at it!”


Arrgh
!”
Hadleigh flung up an arm to shield her eyes but the damage had been done.
 She’d seen a lot of ugly things in her time and generally ended up
killing them but this … this
thing defied
description.
It mocked the
word
ugly as pithy and stomped on an
array of descriptive words such as loathsome, skin crawling and hideous. “Good
Goddess, what in the Hell is that?”

“That cousin dearest is your
bridesmaid dress. No don’t look at me!”

Hadleigh
ignored the warning and turned, taking in the sight of Charisse in her
own matching nightmare.  “Goddess, it looks like radioactive seaweed has
become sentient and crawled out of the ocean.” Hadleigh felt the flare of magic
cross her palm to her fingers seeking a weapon and release.
 

Charisse held up a warning hand,
humming softly under her breath. Instantly peace and tranquillity blanketed the
room.

Hadleigh sent her cousin a stormy
look. “Bloody Sirens, if you’d just let me shred that sucker I could have
gotten out of this whole nightmare.”

Charisse sent her a dazzling grin.
“And why should you be so lucky?  Misery loves company and we have eight
assorted friends and relatives who have kindly covered all the mirrors in the
dressing room next door. Come on.  Just get the damn thing on. The sooner
this is over with the sooner we can start drinking.”

Reluctantly Hadleigh grabbed the
hanger. She’d picked up decapitated heads with less distaste. The dress was the
colour of pond scum and appeared to be both ruched and ruffled to within an
inch of its existence. The material was sack like but not unpleasant to
touch.  “What’s this made out of?”

Charisse yanked her dress up none
too elegantly by the floppy cap sleeves, the sheer weight of all the material
making it hang and droop in very unflattering places.  “Ah well, that’s up
for discussion at the moment. Gigi is voting that it’s some sort of carcass but
Eli thinks Auntie Meg may have got the loom out, made a pact with the devil,
and gone old school with some hessian and barbwire.”

Grabbing her duffle, trying not to
jostle any of her back-up weapons Hadleigh followed Charisse.  “What
happened to the gold taffeta puff balls?”  
Anxious for a
new topic.
  She desperately needed a distraction from the sight of
the big limp mottled coloured bow that was currently hugging her cousin’s
butt.  Resigned that in the very near future one very much like it would
be clinging to her own derriere.

“We think Aunt Meg used them as a
ruse to get our measurements.”

Hadleigh choked back laughter. “I
know we said at the time they made us look like gold Christmas ornaments but in
comparison to this…”

Charisse abruptly stopped her
gorgeous face slightly paler than normal and Hadleigh didn’t think it had
anything to do with the Goddess awful dress she was wearing.

“What? What haven’t you told me?”
Hadleigh dropped her duffle bag with fluid speed, stretched out her hand and
began the call of magic for her favourite sword.

Charisse laughed softly. “No weapons
needed. I just wanted to warn you that Gaia has gone a little
Bridezilla
on us and that you might want to leave your bag
out here and put a lock down on your magic.”

Hadleigh frowned in disbelief.
Generous of heart, soft spoken Gaia who scoffed at the whole traditional
wedding thing, who, had only agreed to a church wedding and formal reception to
stop her mother from hounding her? That Gaia had gone over to the dark
side?  Had these ‘unique’ - for want of a better descriptive word - gowns
been Gaia’s idea and not her nuptial obsessed mother?

Charisse read her cousin’s mind. “I’m
not kidding Hadleigh. She almost hexed the florist because he turned up with
roses that weren’t pink enough. Trust me I saw those roses … they were plenty
pink.  And it’s not just the ceremony.  She’s being smug about
finding her meld match.”

“No?” Hadleigh couldn’t believe it.

Were they talking about the same
person?  Sweet Gaia who for the last sixteen years had sat and
commiserated with all her female relatives at every family picnic, party and
shindig about the lack of available men and the fact that these days their
chances of finding suitable meld matches in the Southern Hemisphere were slim
to none. It was beyond belief.

“But she and Sergei, the Council
only just barely rated them a bronze meld match.” 

Charisse rolled her sea green eyes
skywards. “Well she’s acting like the elders declared them a gold meld instead
of just scraping through as acceptable. And then there’s her dress.” Charisse
shoved Hadleigh hurriedly into the dressing alcove and yanked the curtain
closed. “Hurry up would you.”

Hadleigh knelt down to start working
her steel capped boots off.  “What about Gaia’s dress?”

“It’s a little...”

“Is she here yet?” The tone was high
pitched, strident and virtually unrecognisable as belonging to her normally
soft-spoken cousin.

The dressing room curtain was ripped
opened and from her half kneeling position on the floor Hadleigh found herself
eye to … well cleavage … lots and lots of cleavage … acres of cleavage. With an
almost physical wrench she forced her gaze away letting it travel
upwards.  “Oh My Goddess … Gaia.”  Hadleigh forced back the whimper
that was trying to escape her suddenly dry throat at the sight of her normally
hippie Mother Earth loving cousin having been transformed into what she could
only think of as Dolly Parton gets married Vegas-style during the 70’s.

Just over 5 feet tall and a little
plump, Gaia had managed to stuff her frame into a figure hugging floor length
swathe of white lace with a neckline so low she resembled a tube of toothpaste
being squeezed. Her long dark blond hair was drawn up into a mass of tube like
curls frozen high on her head. And it looked as if a 12 year old had done her
makeup with a heavy hand on the blue eye shadow and overly red lipstick.

Gaia had always had a soft
understated natural prettiness, not a smidgeon of that beauty was in evidence
now.

 “You’re late.”  Gaia
screeched reminding Hadleigh of a Harpy she had once tangled with. Able to tear
the flesh from your bones as easily with its voice as it could its razor sharp
claws. “Are you trying to ruin my wedding?  Is that what the plan is?
I found a man Hadleigh
,
we’re a match
.
You’re just going to have get over your own issues and grow up.”

“Sorry … I was working.”

Gaia’s eyes narrowed, looking ready
to shoot off another uncharacteristic vitriolic burst.

Hadleigh changed tactics, letting
out a deep heartfelt sigh she
lied
her ass off.
 “Gosh Gaia you just look so … beautiful.”

For a moment Gaia wavered, then
tears flooded her eyes as she reached over to wrap her arms around Hadleigh’s
head, bringing her in close for a tight hug.


Urrgh
.”
Hadleigh found herself suffocating.   Death by cleavage, she could
just see her obituary now.

“Don’t worry Hadleigh I’m sure you’ll
find someone … someday. Probably not as handsome as my Sergei but someone who
won’t mind that you’re so tall or built like an Amazon on steroids or walk like
a man…

Charisse pried them apart just in
time. “Gaia Sweetie, isn’t it time for you to fit the tiara? Leave Hadleigh
with me and I’ll get her ready in a jiffy.”

Charisse gently manoeuvred the Bride
out the room, all the while Gaia completely oblivious to the fact that Hadleigh
had pulled a knife from her left boot and had been contemplating shoving it
where the sun don’t shine.   Bride
be
damned.

Muttering under her breath Hadleigh
resumed yanking off her boots.  “Don’t worry Hadleigh you’ll find a man …
someday … even if you walk like a man … fight like a soldier.” She yanked her
trousers off next. “Are built like a brick outhouse … the nerve. Where does she
get off being so holier than thou?” Her long sleeved black top was next.
Getting caught slightly as she tugged it off with vengeance. “I mean sure if I
was to wear a low cut top and bat my big cow eyes at the first
unibrow
foreigner that knocks on my door at the height of a
storm then I could have a man too.”

“Hey, what did you just say?”
Charisse demanded suddenly.

“Ignore me.” Hadleigh grabbed the
poor excuse for a bridesmaid dress from the hanger, pulling it on roughly with
no regard whatsoever for the fabric.  Who cared if it got torn?  Then
she could excuse herself from this nightmare and go home, soak in a bath with a
good book and a glass of wine.

“No you said something … something
important.”  Charisse yanked the curtain open once more.

That was the problem with growing up
in each other’s pockets, no privacy, no boundaries and no secrets. Hadleigh won
the tussle with the dress to emerge dubiously victorious. “I’m always saying
important stuff … you’ve just type cast me as the muscle and never take me
seriously.” She jerked and dragged the dress into place; it was a lot of
material. But then given her height she supposed there would have to be a lot
just to cover all the important bits.

“No you said something about … oh my
Goddess you bitch!”
Charisse’s
green eyes narrowed
with a look of exasperation.

Hadleigh looked up from the disaster
that was currently clinging to her frame. “What? Do I have a spider on me?”

She hated spiders. She could take on
a nine foot tall Cyclops but spiders, ick, with their little hairy legs and
multiple eyes.

“No.”  Charisse rolled her
eyes, reaching past Hadleigh to uncover the mirror. “Just look at yourself. How
do you take an oversized sack made of bile and make it look as if you could
wear it down a Paris runway?”

Now it was Hadleigh’s turn to roll
her eyes as she contemplated her reflection.   “Whoa how come it’s so
tight?  Yours isn’t tight! Why does it have to cling?” She glared at her
own reflection.

“Honestly you’ve been brainwashed by
those three dumb lugs you call brothers. You look freaking amazing, even in
that hideous sack. On the rest of us it hangs like the skin on one of those
Shar
Pei dogs … on you it hugs curves that should be
outlawed.”

“The colour makes me look like a
week old corpse.”

“No, on you the colour makes your
skin even creamier and those darn clear grey eyes of yours glow. Honestly big
deal you’re 6.6ft, you have a supermodel pout and hair the colour of fire-lit
rubies.”

“I’m not that tall.”  Hadleigh
muttered under her breath, technically she was 6.5ft, nine tenths and three
quarters. “And you are so full of shit Char.” Hadleigh tossed out her voice
full of affection.

Charisse shook her head knowing her
cousin refused to see what the rest of the world so clearly could. Those no
good brothers of hers and that bad experience away at college had decimated
Hadleigh’s self-esteem. “Come on.  Grab your shoes, your swords, your
mace, your knives and your backup knives. The sooner we get this over with the
sooner I can hit the bar.”

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