Freedom (The Sorcerers' Scourge Book 4)
Freedom
The Sorcerers’ Scourge: Book Four
By Michael Arches
Copyright by Pyrenees Publishing 2017
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
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Chapter 1
FOR MY FIRST eighteen years, I’d prayed for my Prince Charming to come and save me, but the son of a bitch never showed up. Instead, my sorcerer father sold me into slavery the day I became an adult.
Six ugly years passed. I was forced to fight as a gladiator for one sorcerer after another, and I’d long since given up on being rescued. Then my Prince Charming wandered into my life.
-o-o-o-
Monday, January 11th
Max Tanner’s Mansion, Salinas, California
AT FIRST, MY prince sounded like just another asshole arguing downstairs with Tanner, my current owner. He was always fighting with someone about something.
I ignored the yelling and went back to eating my kibble. It was part of my punishment for losing my last fight. I’d been sick with the flu, but Tanner had made me fight anyway. My opponent, Slashing Venus, took me apart, and then the monster who owned me beat me bloody.
As the argument continued downstairs, I focused on my e-book about Liam, a sex-starved billionaire leprechaun. His stories were surprisingly good—plenty of action in interesting places like Bali and Copenhagen. Anywhere would’ve been more interesting than Salinas, California. In this particular story, sex-starved water nymphs were chasing Liam around a Greek grotto.
Then Tanner screamed downstairs. Nothing unusual about that—he had a helluva temper. I ignored him and kept reading until I heard the unmistakable thunk of a magician’s staff smacking someone’s head. There’d be no backing down from a full-scale fight downstairs.
Usually, I would’ve helped my master, but since my latest loss, he’d locked me in my room. Too bad for you, sucker.
He’d have to fight his own damned battle for a change. That thought gave me a little comfort. With any luck, he’d get his ass kicked, and I’d get a new owner. Anyone would be better than Tanner.
I couldn’t change the outcome, so I ignored the idiots downstairs and dove deeper into my paranormal romance. It was the closest I’d come to real romance in a long time. One of the harem slaves, a gorgeous redhead covered with freckles, had gotten me hooked on this amazing series. I was mainlining a book a day on Kindle Unlimited.
The subscription and a used Kindle had been my reward for winning a big fight last October. Tanner had even paid for a full year, so I didn’t need to leave the privacy of my prison cell to enjoy all the thrills of my books.
I tossed another handful of kibble in my mouth. The box had said it contained all the essential vitamins and minerals I’d need. It was supposed to be chicken flavored, but I was still getting over the flu—couldn’t taste a thing. I washed it down with a can of warm lemon-lime soda. Yum!
Years ago, my mom had told me that human beings could get used to anything, and I was living proof. Although I’d gotten the living shit beaten out of me two days ago, I was bouncing back. Liam had helped. He was everything a lonely female gladiator could want, namely handsome, muscular, and well-endowed. The three willowy creatures chasing him couldn’t get enough of the poor guy.
A loud BOOM resonated from below. Tanner’s scream of agony gave me hope. My professional services might soon be under new management. One thing was obvious—some stranger downstairs knew how to cast a powerful lightning spell. That boom was louder than anything Tanner could have conjured up.
I tore myself away from my e-book and packed my Kindle in its ratty case. When my new master came, I needed to be ready. The last time I’d changed owners, I hadn’t packed fast enough. Tanner had forced me to leave half of my stuff behind.
To minimize the risk of that happening again, I opened my foot locker and started tossing in clothes from the dresser. Then I added the only framed picture I owned. Seven years ago, my mom, my two sisters, and I had stood on the beach at Carmel-By-The-Sea. A passing tourist took a photo of us with my phone. That picture has remained my greatest treasure.
Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at it, but I couldn’t afford to appear weak. I wiped the tears away and kept packing.
A few minutes later, a heavier than usual footfall on the stairs told me my time with the monster was over. I tossed my last few things into the locker and straightened the black karate uniform I usually wore around the house. Then I sat on the bed waiting, hoping for the best.
Some sorcerers got turned on by fighting, and my door was the first one at the top of the stairs. My heart pounded in my chest as I prepared for what could happen next. I wasn’t nearly as pretty as the harem slaves, but some sorcerers thought they had to prove their dominance right away.
A tall, stocky, dark man a few years older than me stepped in and smiled. He seemed friendly instead of aggressive. That was a good beginning. Then he put one hand to his mouth. “Oh, my Lord! What happened to you?”
My face flushed hot. What’s it look like, fool?
I touched my swollen lips and cheeks. “I disappointed Master Tanner in my last gladiator match. I will do better for you, sir, I swear.”
He shook his head. “No need to tell me any more. I release you as my slave. What’s your name?”
“Moira.”
“Wonderful to meet you.” He looked at me expectantly. “Your last name?”
I didn’t tell it to anyone. My father had too many enemies, and I didn’t want to pay for his crimes. “I don’t really know.”
“OK, well, I’m Ian O’Rourke.”
I shook his massive hand and took a good look at my giant Prince Charming. He definitely didn’t look the part. His skin was brown, which was very different from all the Disney princes I’d seen. Although he had an Irish name, this guy was either part-Hispanic or part-Indian.
Who cares? Otherworldly joy filled me. This was better than Christmas, better than all my Christmases put together.
Best of all, I’d lied to him, proving for the first time since I’d turned eighteen that I was a free witch. “Thank the gods, you’ve come at last!”
He looked baffled. The poor guy probably didn’t realize he was my Prince Charming.
“You have anywhere safe to go?” he asked.
Before I could answer, doubt flashed through my mind, and my stomach clenched. This was too good to be true. “Can I really leave, go wherever I want?”
“Sure, you’re free as the wind. Where are your family and friends?”
“My mom and sisters were enslaved by my father. I don’t know where they are, but I’ll find them. As for friends, none.” My throat tightened at that admission.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. You were raised by sorcerers?”
I couldn’t speak, so I simply nodded.
He sighed. “You should come with us for now. You’ll be
able to stay at our compound until you can make other plans. Please grab your stuff.”
He turned to leave.
But I had one other thing on my mind—revenge. I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, sir, but you beat Tanner, right?”
“Yep. His thuggish days are over.”
“I’d like to pay him back for how he’s treated me and the others. I’m not normally a vindictive person, but, sir, he’s a monster.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, “while we’re deciding how long he should remain a slave. I took his magic already, so you’d have to fight hand-to-hand. You look like you’ve spent some time in the ring, but he’s a lot bigger.”
I had fought a lot, over a hundred gladiator matches. “I’d love the chance to take him on, to get some payback.”
“You betcha. Grab your things, and we’ll meet downstairs.”
Ian left me, no doubt headed to free the other slaves.
That’s when I noticed something. The fist that had been squeezing my heart for six years had let go. It was all thanks to Ian. What an incredible guy. I was free to search for my mom and sisters. With any luck, I could release them from slavery, too.
I hadn’t flat-out bawled in years, but I couldn’t hold back. Standing alone, I hugged myself and thanked the Mórrígan, our great triple goddess, for delivering me from evil.
I’d already packed, so I scanned my room one last time. As slave quarters went, this one had been decent. I’d had a room to myself, and the curtains on the window had protected my privacy. The clock radio played any kind of music I wanted.
My deal had been much better than the harem had enjoyed, probably because I’d made Tanner over a hundred grand last year. When he wasn’t pissed, he’d thrown a few crumbs my way. The other gladiator, a guy who hadn’t won as often, had been forced to live with the house slaves, four to a room.
The ladies down the hall began squealing and laughing. Ian must’ve broken the joyous news to them. A chill of excitement shot through me, and I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Sweet freedom.
To further test the theory that I was my own woman for the first time ever, I knocked over a lamp on my nightstand. It fell to the floor, and the bulb shattered. If I’d still been a slave, magic would’ve prevented me intentionally damage my owner’s property. Hell, yeah, you crazy witch! You are as free as the birds! Ian is a genuine Prince Charming.
I was suddenly mobbed by several women from harem. “Moira!” one said. “Did you hear? We’re free!”
I hugged them. They were the closest thing I had to friends, and we’d spent a lot of idle time together. But we’d known better than to get too attached. Sorcerers were always buying and selling their property, and I hadn’t known these women for more than a few months.
Thanks to glamour, two were beautiful enough to be on the cover of a fashion magazine, including the redhead. I looked dowdy by comparison. The old battle scars on my face drew a lot of attention, that was for damned sure. If I could find the money, I could have them magically removed.
Our group wandered down the hall to their rooms where a party had already started. One of the house slaves was passing around a two-hundred-dollar bottle of Rémy Martin cognac from Tanner’s liquor cabinet. I took a long pull on it, and it burned my throat. I’d rarely been allowed to drink because I was always in training for my next fight. I giggled.
I didn’t have to follow Tanner’s rules anymore.
I listened as the others talked about where they would go next. Most of them had family or friends they could return to, including the male gladiator. Good for them. I’d have to search hard to find my mom and sisters, and that would take time.
Because I’d been raised for the gladiator ring, I didn’t have much in common with the witches who’d once been free. Even so, we all shared our glorious first few minutes of blissful freedom together. Someone passed me a bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne, and I took a swig of that, too. The bubbly went down much easier than the cognac.
Ian clapped his hands. “Ladies and gentlemen, a bus will be pulling up in front of the house in a few minutes. It will take you to our compound where you can contact your friends and relatives. Before that, though, Moira is going to fight Tanner for revenge, for her and for you. Grab your things and bring them downstairs. As soon as the fight’s over, we’ll take off. You’re welcome to bring the booze on the bus.”
I ran back to my room for my foot locker. Luckily, I was in good shape, because it weighed at least seventy pounds. I had to slide it down the stairs by holding a handle on one end. When we got to the marble floor on the main level, I carried it to the front door.
-o-o-o-
I RETURNED TO the living room. Tanner was sitting on his fancy Italian leather sofa in front of a Louis XIV coffee table. His hands covered his face. Now he’d be a slave, which was poetic justice, although I doubted Ian’s clan would treat him nearly as badly as he’d treated me.
My blood was ready to boil. I’d never allowed myself to get this mad before a fight. I had to struggle for control. Over the years, I’d built up a lot of rage and buried it deep. I’d learned early on that it would blind me and fog my mind if I didn’t keep it under wraps.
So, I suppressed most of the fury I felt at Tanner, shoving it deep into the part of my mind where I hid away the rest of my hatred for sorcerers.
“Get up, asshole,” I shouted. “You’ve had this coming a long time.”
He stood suddenly, showing no signs of the fight he’d just lost. Someone must’ve healed him already. He scowled as he stood over me, appearing even taller than before. Tanner was six-foot, five-inches, which was two inches taller than me. He weighed two-thirty, fifty pounds heavier.
Doubt began to creep into my mind. Of all my past owners, he was undoubtedly the best fighter. That’s how he’d taken me, by beating my last master in a challenge. Did I bite off too much?
As though he’d read my thoughts, he smirked at me. We’d exercised together all the time, so I knew he was much stronger than me. Hopefully that wouldn’t matter much now. This was a pure street fight. No rules. Thanks to my work, I knew every dirty trick in the book.
For starters, I was tempted to push him back over the coffee table, but it belonged to Ian now and was supposedly irreplaceable. I owed Ian everything. Don’t start out on the wrong foot with the prince.
Instead of pushing, I screamed and stuck my fingers out straight, seeking Tanner’s eyeballs.
He slapped away my left hand, but I managed to cut him above one eye with the sharpened nail on my right index finger. First blood!
But my old owner twisted his torso around and rammed his left knee into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.
That caught me by surprise. While his leg was up, though, he was vulnerable. I drove my left knee into his crotch, but the angle was wrong. I missed crushing his nuts.
Still, I’d come close. He stumbled back and crawled over the sofa putting it between us. When he grinned at me, I wanted more than anything to rip those flabby lips off his face.
“Everybody, get a load of the coward!” I taunted him. He deserved it after what he’d put me and the others through. He’d always bitched about me not being aggressive enough, despite the fact I’d won most of my fights. “Running away from a girl? Good thing you’re a slave now. No sorcerer could live with that kind of shame.”
His brow furrowed, but he didn’t come at me. The prick was afraid of a woman half of his age. I said a silent prayer to the Mórrígan for the strength to beat him.
Tanner ran behind a dining room table that would seat twelve, and I couldn’t get around it fast enough to catch him. So, when he stood across from me, I ran at an angle and slid over the slippery surface on one hip.
That caught him by surprise. He froze, and I reached out with both hands for his thick neck.
But he jerked back. I missed and toppled forward onto the marble floor. As I sprawled bef
ore him, he cackled and brought one shoe down on the back of my head, squeezing it against the stone floor.
Damn! That hurt!
I was blinded for a second, but I scrambled back, out of reach. Instead of pressing the advantage, though, the monster dashed for the front door.
Ian said, “Nope. You fight her here, where I can see you.”
I shook my head to clear my vision. That’s when I noticed an oil painting of his mother hanging on the wall next to the dining room table. She was a nasty sorceress—I’d met her several times. Just to piss off her son, I grabbed the picture and smashed it over the high back of a mahogany chair, ripping the canvas into pieces.
“You crazy bitch,” he screamed at me, but my attempt to lure him closer failed. Blood from the cut on his brow trickled down his face, a reminder that I’d hurt him first.
A thrill surged through me at being able to hurt him. “Come on, you chickenshit coward. You’re going to let me treat that whore you call a mother like that?”
With a roar, he dashed at me. His huge fists flailed the air. On his left hand, he wore a heavy, gold, championship ring I’d won a few weeks back, the top female in the heavyweight class. At that moment, I was officially the best fighting sorceress in California.
His left fist shot straight for my face, but I’d expected that. I jerked my head sideways a little to let his paw whiz past my ear. Damn, he was mad. If it’d connected, that punch would’ve put me down for good.
My right fist found his bleeding eyebrow, and I opened the cut wider still. Now his face and my hand were smeared with blood.
“You’re looking like a mess, jerkoff!” I spit at him, hitting him in the middle of his precious white polo shirt.
In response, his right uppercut snapped my head back. Ouch! I grunted but didn’t scream. This monster would never hear me scream again.
I shuffled back to clear my head. Fight smarter! You can’t take another shot like that. Gloat later.
He headed for the stairs, but he couldn’t go far. Ian had told him to stay in sight.