Plucking up the bag that Mort had thrown into the pod, I retrieved the long-range comm device that the shifter had stolen for us earlier that morning. I resisted the urge to chug a vial of the sweetblood as my knuckles knocked into the loose bottles. I could almost taste it on my tongue and in my veins, but one glance at Nova turned me away from it. Holding the comm device in my hands, I focused on the task before me. My friends would be waiting for information—any information—and there was a lot to catch up on. Besides, if we were going to come up with our next plan of action, they’d need to know where to meet us.
“How far away can we get?” I asked wryly.
Navan smiled, checking the navigation systems. “With the fuel this thing has left, we can get as far as Mallarot. If you still want to go there, that is.” A sad look flickered across his face. “His idea was a good one. Nobody goes there, and it might be a smart spot to keep a low profile for a while.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “I’d like to go there still.”
“Charting a course for Mallarot,” he said brightly, his sweet expression taking the edge off my pain. I knew he had to be suffering too, but he was better at hiding it than I was.
As he worked away on the controls, directing us toward Mort’s home planet, I flipped up the screen of the long-range comm device and sent a transmission toward the communications department at Lunar HQ. I remembered the channel sequence, the soundwaves lying still as the transmission disappeared into the ether, traveling light-years in search of Earth’s Fed unit.
A voice crackled through a few minutes later. “Hello?”
“Hello? Who am I speaking to?” It wasn’t a voice I recognized.
“This is Agent Namian. Who is this?”
“This is Captain Riley Idrax. I need you to send a message to Agent Phocida, Warrior Anai, or whoever has taken Commander Mahlo’s position,” I said firmly, before delving into the tale of what we’d just endured. I told him of the rebels’ discovery of the final element required for the immortality elixir and their subsequent invasion of Vysanthe, after drinking down the contents of their new toy. “As you can see, it’s pretty urgent, so if you can get that along to someone in charge ASAP, that’d be great.”
For a good few moments, there was nothing but the sound of heavy breathing.
“Agent Namian? Are you there?”
“Yes, Captain Idrax. I was just… absorbing everything. I’ll tell them what you’ve said immediately.”
“Oh, and can you put me through to one of my friends—Angie, Lauren, Bashrik, Ronad, Stone, or Xiphio? Any of them will do.” I just wanted to hear a friendly voice.
“Certainly, Captain.”
The line went dead for what seemed like forever, Navan and I waiting with bated breath for the soundwave to flicker again, showing that someone else was on the line. Just when I’d started to wonder if Agent Namian had disappeared altogether, keeping our tale to himself in a state of utter shock, a symbol flashed up on the comm device. I brandished it at Navan, confused.
“It means it wants to stream live video,” he explained, reaching over to press the right button.
“You’re alive! Oh Rask, you’re alive!” Bashrik cried, his face flashing up on the small screen. “Where have you been? What’s been going on? We’ve been worried sick.” I set the device up on one of the shelves at the side of the pod and stood in front of it, so we could see him better, with Navan scooting in beside me, his arm sliding around my waist.
“Not for lack of folks trying to kill us,” Navan joked, flashing a grin at his brother.
“Rask, it’s good to see your faces! I thought I’d never see you again—we all did. We as good as had burials for the pair of you.” Bashrik looked crestfallen, tears of bittersweet joy glittering in his eyes.
I smiled. “Well, we’re in one piece… It’s a bit of a miracle, but we are.”
“It looks like you’ve caused some kind of commotion,” he replied nervously. “Has something happened out there?”
“You could say that,” Navan replied. Honestly, the simple understatement made me want to double over in mad hysterics. Had something happened out here? What hadn’t happened out here? There really was a lot to fill them in on, on top of the more urgent news of Vysanthe’s freshly declared war.
Angie barreled into Bashrik, almost knocking him flat in her bid to get into the shot. Tears were already streaming down her face, her hands reaching for the camera of whatever device they were speaking to us on. A blur smudged the screen as she leaned in and gave us both a sloppy cyber kiss, a relieved smile turning up the corners of her lips.
“What have I told you about tearful reunions?!” she cried. “Think of my ventricles! That coronary is due any day now, with all the worrying I’ve been doing.”
“Sorry about that,” I said sheepishly, grateful to see my best friend again. All I needed was Lauren, and the picture would be perfect.
“That agent you sent to get us has been screeching at the top of his lungs about the rebels discovering the key to the immortality elixir—is that true?” Angie peered closer to the camera, as though it would somehow break down the distance between us.
Bashrik shot Angie a panicked look. “What? When did he say that?”
“Just now, in the hallway. Are you losing your hearing, sweet pea?”
“Is that true?!” He whirled back around, his eyes staring down the lens in horror.
I sighed, casting a subtle glance at Nova. “Sadly, yes.”
“How did they crack it?” Angie whispered conspiratorially.
The impulse to laugh hit me again. “Let’s just say it’s a very long story that’s going to need to be told face-to-face,” I said, gathering my faculties. They’d think I was insane if I started cackling, out of nowhere. Besides, I figured it’d be better to tell them all about Nova later, once they could actually see her with their own eyes. They wouldn’t believe me otherwise, and, to be honest, it was probably going to give Angie that coronary.
“Go on, tell us!” Angie pleaded.
“I will, when I see you again.”
It looked like she was about to protest, but her gaze flickered off to the side, like someone had just come into the room. Lauren appeared on screen a moment later, her face brimming with anxious excitement. It didn’t make sense, considering what Angie had just told us about Agent Namian causing mass panic in Lunar HQ. She looked way too happy, and way too hopeful.
“Riley! Navan!” she squeaked, grinning widely. “I knew you were alive. I kept telling Angie you were fine, but she wouldn’t believe me. After everything we’ve been through, she’s still the worried mother hen of our group.”
“I am clucking amazing,” Angie quipped.
“It’s so good to see you both, and your timing couldn’t be more perfect!” Lauren gushed.
I frowned. “What do you mean?” Our timing was pretty crappy, considering war had just broken out because of us.
“Stone has woken up. And he wants to take us to the Stargazers!”
I turned to Navan, and our eyes met. There was an immortal army on the loose, soon to threaten the lives and futures of an entire universe. We needed an immoveable object to face this unstoppable force… and there was only one species that was up to the task.
“Let us know where to go, and we’ll be there,” I said, turning back to Lauren.
The Stargazers might have been the stuff of mythology, but they were the only ones who could end this madness. If they were really out there, we were going to find them.
Ready for the FINAL book of Riley and Navan’s story?
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Invaders.
Book 8, Stargazers, is the epic final book of the series!
Stargazers releases July 27th, 2018.
Pre-order your copy now for convenience and have it delivered automatically to your reading device on release day!:
If you’re in the US, tap here.
UK, tap here.
Australia
, tap here.
For any other country, tap here.
Check out the amazing cover:
I can’t wait to see you there! It’s going to be a wild ride…
Love,
Bella x
P.S. Sign up to my VIP email list and I’ll send you a personal heads up when my next book releases: www.morebellaforrest.com
(Your email will be kept 100% private and you can unsubscribe at any time.)
P.P.S. I’d also love to hear from you — come say hi on Instagram, Twitter or Facebook.
Sneak Peek BONUS Chapters!
Although Navan and Riley’s story is ending with Book 8, do not worry, because the paranormal journey will continue with a brand new supernatural series that I am releasing on August 27th, 2018!
Introducing,
Harley Merlin and the Secret Coven
Keep turning the pages for the blurb and an exclusive sneak preview of the first 3 chapters!!
Blurb:
A girl with a gift…
Harley has had a difficult life, slipping through the foster system while trying to understand her strange abilities. At nineteen, she finally seems to have it all under control, using her unnatural skills to pinpoint cheaters at a casino—her first job as a responsible adult. She’s yet to figure out who or what she is, but Harley is definitely not like other people.
Everything changes when a mysterious, and startlingly handsome, young warlock named Wade Crowley crosses her path while hunting a monster. A very literal monster.
The encounter sets Harley on an incredible journey, as she discovers the hidden world of magicals, riddled with secrets—and clues about her murky past.
A girl with no history…
Whether she likes it or not, this new world is where she belongs now. But after a nerve-racking twist of events, it appears that someone is out for her blood, and she must decide whether it is somewhere she is truly brave enough to stay…
Fans of witches, magic and fantasy, you are in for a treat. Prepare to enter a tantalizing new world!
Prologue
I froze, my back against the window, my whole body shivering as the beast in front of me shuddered with delight.
Another second and I would become its dinner.
Something inside me roared like thunder, unwilling to give in yet. The air around me thickened—I could feel it tickling my fingertips, beckoning me to wield it. I’d done it before, though not with the strength I would need to disable a fiend as savage as this.
But I had to try. There was no other choice.
I summoned all the energy I could muster, and, for the first time ever, I sensed the particles of Chaos flowing through me. My mind went into overdrive, and I thrust my hands out. The winds outside listened, rumbling and whistling as they crashed through the window.
I ducked as broken glass exploded everywhere. Shards cut through the beast’s face and eyes, and it hissed from the pain.
With no other route to safety, I embraced the winds and leapt onto the windowsill. My breath hitched as I looked down at the sheer drop, and then I closed my eyes, abandoning myself to the air.
Chapter 1
My eyes wandered around the poker table.
The dealer, a young man in his early twenties, had been fitted into a crisp white shirt and black silk waistcoat, his brown hair slicked back with too much gel. His dexterity as he shuffled the deck made me stare, before I went on to check the players.
Two women and three men. Three of them had skipped on the Gamblers Anonymous meetings—I could tell from their frayed nerves and shoulder-crushing guilt. It was written all over their faces. The other two, a man in his late twenties and a cute brunette who didn’t look a day older than twenty-three, struck me as the coolest cucumbers I’d seen all evening.
This was a steady gig I’d gotten my hands on, so I had to do a good job. Three months in, and I’d already gotten fifteen people banned for cheating and counting cards. It wasn’t an easy profession, though—for most people, anyway. It required a lot of psychology and the study of body language, along with excellent knowledge of the game itself. You had higher chances of success if you were a former cheater, preferably with some Vegas experience. But I had very little experience at all.
Then again, I wasn’t “most people.”
After betting, it was time for the “flop.” The dealer displayed three cards in the middle of the dark red velvet table—seven of clubs, queen of diamonds, and a five of spades—while we checked our “hole” hands again. I had nothing to use, but I bet anyway. The casino supplied my betting cash, so it didn’t matter if I lost. My prize came in the form of a generous percentage of the cheaters’ relinquished winnings if I caught colluders at the table, along with my hourly rate.
Texas Hold’em was a favorite game choice for collusion, and with the amount of money involved in tonight’s game, I knew I’d get some bold players this evening.
My instincts were pointing me to the “cucumber” couple. The other three were already sweating. One was clearly a veteran gambler, at least compared to the rest. With graying hair, salt-and-pepper stubble, and sweat stains on his peach-colored shirt, the man was nervously clicking two blue chips between his fingers as he stared at the three cards in view. He was going to fold soon.
I could feel it in my bones. There was nothing he could do with what he had in his hand, and what was on the table. With five crappy cards combined, and just two more to go with the “turn” and the “river,” he wasn’t feeling this round, at all. Sure, he had the gambling bug, but he’d probably lost enough over the years to know when to pick his battles.
He scoffed, and folded.
Hah, called it! Who’s a smart girl? You’re a smart girl, I mentally congratulated myself while my gaze wandered around the table. I was a smart girl. It was the only thing I’d learned from my father.
I flipped open my black satin clutch—which I’d matched with my dress—pretending to look for a tissue. I kept a small note in my card wallet. I pulled it out and examined it for a moment.
Harley, I am so sorry for doing this to you, but there is no other way. Stay safe. Stay smart. I love you. Dad.
That note was the only thing my parents had left me with, before dropping me off at the orphanage when I was three. I was bounced around from one foster home to another after that. It was rarely a pretty picture, and my father’s advice somehow helped me retain my sanity. Even now, as I glided into adulthood, I kept looking at that note for guidance, whenever a part of me wavered. As a foster kid, I always had to “stay safe” and “stay smart,” though the two rarely went hand in hand.
When the turn was dealt, I glanced around the poker table again.
Each of these people had their stories to tell. They had first names and last names, parents and grandparents, uncles and distant cousins, social security numbers and student loans. In my twisted view of the world, they existed, while I was just a visitor of sorts. Always on the outside, looking in.
I had no identity. Just a name on paper. I rented an apartment in Park West and pinpointed cheaters in casinos for a living. Nobody knew anything about me or my… special skills, and I was okay with that.
“I’ll raise you twenty,” the male cool cucumber said, looking at the equally chilled female across the table.
In the eyes of everyone else, they didn’t know each other. They were complete strangers exchanging pleasantries during a game of Texas Hold’em, where tens of thousands of dollars were at stake. But I could feel the physical attraction between them. The guy was head over heels in love with her. She was just as crazy about him. There was a familiarity between them, an intense emotion that they couldn’t hide from me. That was the downside of being an empath; I felt every emotion as if it were my own.
I basically had the hots for both of them, as if we’d been together for years. Ugh…
When the river was dealt, I could almost hear the guy’s heart thumping out of his chest. His excitement filled me to the brim, and,
judging by the looks the couple exchanged briefly, unbeknownst to anyone else, they were ready to do some good old-fashioned whipsawing—raising and re-raising each other until they trapped another player in between.
And I knew exactly who their target was for this round. The other female, one of the compulsive gamblers. She was nervous, her eyes darting across the five cards now shown on the table: a seven of clubs, a queen of diamonds, a five of clubs, a jack of clubs and another queen, of hearts.
My hand was weak. All I could offer was a pair of fives. I folded, clicking my teeth.
“Maybe next time.” I smirked, then leaned back in my seat.
As expected, the cucumbers started teasing each other.
“I’m thinking it’s a good night,” the guy said, then tossed a few red chips on the pile gathering in the middle of the table. “Thirty.”
“Your overconfidence could be your weakness,” the girl said, grinning, and raised him another thirty, her tongue passing over her pearly white teeth. The tight, jade-colored dress she wore was meant to arouse, and based on what I was reading from the guy, she was getting the desired results.
I shifted in my chair, slightly uncomfortable with feeling someone else’s arousal, but stayed focused nonetheless. The girl’s outfit looked expensive. They weren’t here to play for pennies.