Capture Death (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 20) Read online

  It is because of a badass set of fans and support that we are able to say that the Kurtherian Gambit WIKI is going to go live.

  We have had some gallant efforts to bring a WIKI (a place to check out the stories, events, characters, books etc.) throughout 2016 and 2017. Hell, I’ve tried starting one (twice) and gave up both times. We had a stellar fan also try, but she got sick and the software that was being used is damned difficult.

  The fuckers are a challenge!

  I met fan John Raisor in Las Vegas in November, and he showed me a usable WIKI (meaning, the software was simple and usable.) He already had example data in the system for me to play around with when I met him and his wife at TGI Friday’s that morning. Now, I know she is going to think, ‘Seriously, you don’t remember my name?’ when I fail to mention it here.

  Yes, I suck at faces and names…

  (HA! Slack and always available Internet connectivity to the rescue. I asked John in Slack and he replied “Wendy.”)

  The meeting with John was fortuitous because Karla Kay was working behind the scenes to pull together the information and we needed a web accessible location to plug the information into to support our fans.

  Together, the two of them and others (Lynne Stiegler for one) have been working to make this happen. The official unveiling will be January 1st, but if you want to ‘Beta’ the WIKI, you can request access. The URL is:

  https://sites.google.com/site/kurtheriangambit/

  You must have a google account to access this WIKI. Once you request access, please be patient…Lynne and John will try to get your request approved within a day. We hope to have it truly live, without needing to sign up on New Years Day.

  Keep your fingers crossed ;-)

  OTHER STUFF?

  Believe it or not, there is MORE that I can share, but if I don’t shut down at some point, you won’t get to read my stuff with Laurie. Further, what I don’t tell you now, I can WOW you with later!!!!!! (That’s for you, Candy.)

  Ad Aeternitatem,

  Michael

  WANT SOME MORE READING FUN?

  GO THAT WAY! >>

  The following story is part of the Seven Sons Series (Arriving 2018)

  (Not a Kurtherian Gambit Universe - Completely new.)

  Training Day

  A Seven Sons Short Story

  By Laurie Starkey and Michael Anderle

  Chapter One

  The cackle of the dark witch ripped through the gray sky above Jarreth. An icy gust sent his long leather coat flapping behind him as he glanced around with a wicked smile on his face. “I’m going to win this round. You guys are going down. Don’t fight it. Be graceful and accept your fate.”

  “I’ll bet cleaning the kitchen later tonight that you get your ass handed to you,” Delilah said as she finished pulling her long, crimson hair into a high ponytail and looked over at the third member of their group. “Canter, you want in on this?”

  “Hell no.” The lanky hunter lifted his hands and chuckled low in his chest. “If the past predicts the future,” he said as he viewed the landscape. “Both of you are going to end up with dirt in your teeth.”

  Jarreth snickered. “Promises, promises,” he said as he rolled his shoulders and glanced over toward the field where dusky figures began to take shape. “Do try and keep up.”

  Canter bounded around both of them, taking the lead and pulling his sword from the sheath on his back. Of all the hunters being trained to fight for the church, the other two members of Canter’s triune were the cockiest of them all.

  A smile lifted his lips. Never a dull moment.

  Movement to his left had him spinning on his heel and gripping the blade. He swung hard and tore through the magic vapor approaching him at breakneck speed.

  The scent of rotten eggs rolled through the air, almost causing him to gag. He bit his tongue, bitched about the blood that filled his mouth and spun to find Jarreth and Delilah taking on what looked like a hulking, one-eyed troll.

  “No way these fuckers exist, right?” Jarreth glanced over at Canter for a split second before looking back at the creature. “I mean, why would God make something so damn ugly?”

  “He made you.” Delilah chuckled and ducked as a huge ass rock was thrown her way. After rolling over, she leapt up and moved in front of the boys. She cracked her whip and lightning danced around it.

  The troll screeched and backed up, stumbling.

  “Love you too, Kitten.” Jarreth squatted and pressed down, reaching deep to bound over his friends toward the troll. “Only the aggressive win the field, right?” he asked as he cleared both Delilah and Canter.

  A grunt left him as something grabbed him by the shirt in midair and flung him halfway across the field. The ground was cold and hard, ripping his breath from him as he landed flat on his back. “Fuck,” he groaned loudly and rolled on his side.

  Love for the fight helped to push the pain away.

  Delilah positioned herself between Jarreth’s prone body and the charging troll. He took a moment to let his eyes move up her body. What a beauty. No fucking way I’m saying a damned thing to let her know.

  Their friendship, their families’ history as hunters drew them together creating a connection that went beyond simple friendship when they matured into adults themselves.

  Or, at least it had for him.

  “Get up and fight.” Another male hunter raced past Jarreth, his voice tight with agitation.

  “Right. Thanks. I forgot what I was doing.” Jarreth rolled his eyes, jumped up and sprang back toward the fight. The witch that flew just above his head looked like something out of a Halloween movie. Surely, the real magic wielders were nothing like the characters humanity had molded them to be. He couldn’t shake the hope that they were bigger. Badder. More.

  “Back door!” Delilah’s voice broke through the noise and penetrated his wandering mind.

  Jarreth spun and flung a silver star from the side pocket of his pants. The big green demon that charged him dropped to his knees and hissed. His big-ass teeth dripped with a dark red substance, which would have been terrifying if it were real. “When do we get to go into the field?” Jarreth yelled and lifted his eyes to the sky as he flung another star toward the witch.

  “When you pass your exams, and the Ancient One says you’re ready.” Father Till’s voice filled Jarreth’s ears. If the old man wasn’t agitated, he was anxious. It was only those two emotions, and he used them unsparingly.

  “Be nice to see this Ancient One. That might help, you know?” Jarreth returned his focus to the fight to find Canter on the ground with a black shadow holding him down. Without hesitation, he bolted toward his triune partner with the intent to knock the shade back.

  “Wait!” Delilah moved up beside him as they raced toward Canter. “It’s a trap. Remember last—”

  She never got the last word out.

  The shade turned and plowed into both of them. The force of the shadow caused Delilah to fly backward and land on her butt. She watched in horror as the evil bastard flattened himself against Jarreth. Her heart constricted in her chest, and although she quite understood that they were in a safe environment for practice, anything related to Jarreth had her willing to give her all.

  “No!” She scrambled to her feet and raced toward them as the shade moved up and pounded Jarreth into the ground twice.

  “Enough!” Father Till’s voice echoed around the group as the lights returned and the holograms dissipated. “When will you learn, Jarreth?” he muttered in annoyance as he watched those on the field groan and start to move around.

  A door at the far end of the facade opened, and the elderly priest walked out, the scowl deeply ingrained on his face. “You fell for this same thing last time. The shade is a creature of deception. Canter wasn’t in danger until you put him there.”

  “I’m good. Really,” Jarreth spit out as he rolled over onto his stomach and gasped for air as the fake grass tickled his nose. “Just had my ass handed to me
by a hologram, but I’m good. Thanks for checking.”

  “Get up.” The priest stopped beside the hunter and glanced around. A sickness rose in the center of his stomach. “You’re not ready. She’s not going to arrive until one of you are ready.”

  Canter walked toward the priest as the rest of the trainees gathered around. “You’ve promised her arrival for almost three months, Father. When will she show?”

  “I just told you when.” The priest’s dark gray eyes narrowed, and his thin lips pursed tightly. “She will return when even one of you is ready.”

  “What does it mean to be ready?” A tall guy asked from the back.

  Delilah moved in closer and kept her eyes on the priest. “And why isn’t she helping us get ready? Doesn’t the church need us now?” It was hard as hell not to look down at Jarreth or offer him a hand, but he wouldn’t have taken the offer kindly. He was far too prideful for that.

  “She will help you.” The priest glanced around. “All of you, but you have to meet a certain level of accomplishment before she’s to come. You’re a waste of her time at this point.”

  “Maybe if you’d let us go out and fight real monsters, we could prove ourselves.” Jarreth reached for Canter’s hand and pulled himself up slowly as a groan left him. “Or maybe not.” He snorted. “How the hell are those things capable of punching me into the ground? They’re nothing more than smoke and mirrors.”

  “And magic.” The priest turned and walked back toward the door from which he came. “You’re running out of time. Stop messing around and focus. You were born for this purpose alone. It’s not a matter of whether you are capable. You are already capable. Focus. Get it right.”

  “Easy for him to say,” Canter muttered and glanced around as he brushed his hand over his chest. “I want to see this Ancient One.”

  “Me too. I hope she’s hot and needs to get a little bit of aggression out.” Jarreth wagged his eyebrows and glanced at Delilah.

  “You going to offer her your ass to beat on?” Delilah smirked and bent down to stretch.

  “People always give what they’re really hoping to receive.” Jarreth shrugged and reached over to pat Canter on the back. “You seen this Huntress before?”

  “Nope. I’ve seen a male Hunter they call the Ancient One.” He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. “He’s not been seen since our great-grandfather’s time. He’s an asshole from what I understand.”

  Jarreth snorted. “And your great-grandfather told you this?”

  “Don’t be an idiot.” Canter dropped his hands to his side and glanced around. “Let’s work together this time.”

  “I thought that was what we did last time.” Delilah gave her partners a stern look. “We need to pass this part of the training.” She glanced at the far corners. “I’m sick of this fucking room.”

  “Someone is seriously moody all of a sudden.” Jarreth pulled out his staff and twirled it. “And you didn’t even get your face pounded into the ground by a shadow. God forbid—”

  “Jarreth Barnes. Come.” The priest’s voice filled the room, causing everyone to jump.

  “Turn down your mic, Father. Shit.” He shook his head and walked toward the end of the training room as his friends made crude remarks at him for getting called out once again.

  It was a regular occurrence.

  The lights lowered by the time Jarreth reached the door at the end of the room. He positioned his staff against the wall and missed its warmth the minute he released it. The fight would have to continue without him, it would seem. Concern for his triune had him glancing back before slipping into a candlelit study. They seemed to be holding their own, but could they stay standing without him?

  “Doubtful,” he muttered and closed the door behind him.

  Jarreth walked into the large study as the priest grumbled from over by the fire. “You’re not living up to your potential, boy.” This wasn’t the first time he had been called out for a special review.

  And it sucked every time.

  The room was suffocated by shelves and shelves of books. Old, heavy, leather-bound books. Ancient history of all things created and manipulated by God.

  Jarreth nodded and clasped his hands behind him. There was no use in arguing with the other man. He was right. Daven Barnes, Jarreth’s father, had been one of the finest hunters in all of history, as was his father before him.

  “I’ll work harder.” Jarreth lifted his chin and locked eyes with the older man as he turned to face him. Something beyond age clung to the priest.

  Father Till ran his hands over his face and walked to the chair nearest him. “Something is coming, Jarreth.” He pointed a finger at the hunter. “You are the next generation of fighters to preserve the goodness here on earth.” He dropped down into his chair and let out a weary sigh. “I know that you’ve not been allowed to face the reality of your calling, son, but a time is coming when you will beg for a training ground again. The real fight is never as forgiving as the practice.” He raised his hand and pointed to his left. “Out there, death is the reward for the mistakes you and the rest of the Hunters are making.”

  Jarreth was able to get to three before he replied, he thought it a new record. “And yet we’re trapped in a cycle, Father. You know we are.” It took every ounce of concentration not to fidget with something on his shirt or run his fingers through his hair. Nerves tore at his confidence.

  “Then move past it!” The old man’s voice boomed around Jarreth. “Your father’s time is over. There is a gap in the transition.”

  “And the Huntress should recognize that. Bring her here, or for God’s sake—”

  “Watch your words, son.”

  “For shit’s sake.” Jarreth corrected himself, offering a cocky smile. “Bring the true Ancient One. Let him train me as he trained my ancestors.”

  The priest’s dark eyes shifted down to his hands. The large golden ring he wore had a dull shine to it, the darkness making the engraving hard to read. “Do not make demands of the church. You are in no place of power.”

  “Yes. I am.” Jarreth took a step toward the priest and paused. Forcing himself on his guardian would do nothing but cause the situation to further sour. “I am a Hunter, chosen by God through the power of the church to fight the evil laid out by the fallen. Give me a chance to prove myself.”

  The priest lifted his hand and never glanced up. “Search your heart, Jarreth. Find the power that grows inside of you and press into it.”

  A growl of frustration bubbled up inside of him. “And what of the Great Huntress? When will she come, Father? Stop with the riddles and give us a clue.”

  “Leave.” The priest stood and walked toward the fire. “I tire of repeating myself, and your triune is in trouble. Go. Help them once again and pray for the help you seek. You’ll not find it in this realm.”

  “Will we find it at all?” Jarreth didn’t wait for an answer, but turned and stormed from the room, feeling all of ten years old again. The scene before him as he stepped back on the practice field wasn’t much different than the one he’d been a part of moments before.

  Hunters lay on the ground, doubled over and groaning in various positions. A witch flew above his head, and various creatures moved with unnatural speed around the trees.

  “Enough.” Jarreth reached out and grabbed his staff before jogging toward the fray. He swung with all his might and took out two dark shadows before reaching down and pulling Delilah up.

  Her dark red hair was a mess, and her cheeks flushed. Desire raced through him as much as his anger at the calamity befalling them, but he shoved the desire back down.

  “You okay?” he mumbled and released her, stepping back as he continued to look over the field.

  “Do I look okay?” she bit out and turned to take on another monster.

  Danger! Much troubles lie that way his mind screamed at him. “Much better than okay if we’re being honest,” he finally muttered and ran three steps to his left and jumped
while taking his staff and swinging it, knocking the witch from the sky above. He dropped back to the ground, turned around and smiled as he dropped to press a knee to her chest. “Gotcha, bitch!”

  “Never, child.” The image faded, and he found himself on the ground with a dark laugh bubbling up behind him. He knew better to look but did it anyway.

  The witches fist connected with his left eye, and darkness wrapped around him and dragged him under.

  Fuck! Another failure. His father would have been so disappointed.

  Too bad he wasn’t around to see it or help anymore.

  The priest was right. It was their time, and yet, they weren’t ready.

  Jarreth couldn’t help but wonder if they ever would be.

  Chapter Two

  “That eye is going to be black by tomorrow.” Canter slapped Jarreth on the back as they walked into their favorite bar. Drinking in the early afternoon was always more fun. Fewer people meant more attention from the cute older woman that bartended during the week.

  “Fuck you, too,” Jarreth muttered and walked to the bar. “I swear to God; we’re never going to be ready for this ‘calling’ bullshit.”

  Delilah pressed her shoulder against Jarreth’s as he paused at the bar. “Watch your language. No swearing to God. He’ll strike you down or make you a Hunter for the church.” She pursed her lips. “Oh, wait. Swear away.” She leaned against the bar. “We’re getting better. At least, I am.”

  “But we’re not good enough.” Jarreth let out a long sigh and reached up to cup his head. “My father is probably rolling over in his grave.”

  Canter moved up on the other side of Jarreth. “Dude. If your dad comes back, we’re all in trouble.” He offered the bartender a small wave as she walked up. “Lindsey.”

  “Hey, kiddos. What can I get ya?” She leaned over and offered a lazy smile.