Parabellum

By Nadia Scrieva

The greatest cataclysm to hit our planet in 65 million years is imminent. Meanwhile, powerful demigods are distracted by petty personal problems...

Pax and Amara are two young goddesses who have been overwhelmed with the pressures of their human lives. Employing an ancient technique to join their bodies together into a new and improved woman named Para, they are driven by the lust to exact revenge on the men who have wronged them. Unable to escape their identities, the girls choose to escape the Earth to engage in the rigorous trials of a realm known as the Pseudosphere. Their willpower and bodily fortitude is tested as they endure a constant stream of otherworldly hardships, challenging their loyalties and tearing them apart. The girls discover that regardless of how far they travel, their pasts will always gnaw at them from the inside.
Meanwhile on Earth, a mysterious dark-skinned woman has been following Thornton and Asher, two wayward devas. The men cast her aside as one of their many female admirers, only to learn that she is actually a visitor from the future. This demigoddess has risked everything to travel back in time and warn them of a catastrophic event that has already been set into motion--the world will be changed forever, unless the drunken, lazy pair can pull themselves together to prevent the apocalypse.

In the midst of heated battle, Pax Burnson struggles with her simultaneous love and resentment for Thorn Kalgren. Personal feelings threaten to get in the way and distract the fire goddess from her purpose; with minutes ticking down on the clock until doomsday, will Pax choose to accept defeat and spend a final night in her lover's arms? Or will she focus on harnessing her inner strength and go down fighting until her final breath?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nadia Scrieva
• Release date: Aug 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476343907

Nadia Scrieva

Nadia Scrieva is an award winning author from Toronto, Canada. She loves martial arts, travel, and getting lost in a good book. Disappearing from the world for weeks for all-consuming writing marathons is her greatest joy.For more information, you can connect with the author on Facebook or visit her website to subscribe to her mailing list:facebook.com/NadiaFansnadiascrieva.com/#!subscribe

Book preview

Chapter 1: Between Mountain and Metropolis

In the dip of the crater on Mount St. Helens, massive cracks began to appear in the solidified magma. Soft molten rock began to lift and swell, becoming engorged like living flesh. The pressure from the hot liquid rising below provoked undulations in the once motionless, solid surface. What had been flat and lifeless landscape now ballooned upward, a breast expanding with quivering breaths. To an onlooker, if anyone had been unfortunate or blessed enough to be looking on, the pulsations in the growing dome might have resembled the mountain’s heartbeat—racing with the excitement of approaching release.

With a sound like a sigh, a thin white plume was released from the crest of swollen rock, sending ribbons of hot ash billowing up into the air. A growing fracture began to form in the apex, from which more and more steam was emitted, spurting thousands of feet into the atmosphere. The rupture rapidly expanded, allowing the first drops of bubbling lava to trickle from its creases.

A woman’s hand abruptly broke through the crack in the rock. More steam immediately surrounded the lime green fingernails which just barely poked out of the seam. The fingers began to flex and writhe as they clawed at the crevice. A second hand smashed through the fissure, feeling around tentatively. If one could have seen through the thick steam, they would have noted the woman’s dark copper skin, slender fingers, and several eclectic rings with multicolored gemstones. The hands thrashed around in distress as lava bubbled up around small wrists, hot enough to boil rock, but apparently not the tender skin of this human being.

Finally, emitting an ethereal silvery glow, the two hands paused—they firmly gripped the sides of the gap and worked in unison to forcibly rip the rock apart. A forearm followed, elbow resting on the surface to help push the woman’s torso through the crack, and when her head was above the surface she gasped for oxygen hungrily. Crawling along the surface away from the crevice, she panted as she rested gratefully on a firmer portion of the crater—the bright light surrounding her entire body intensified. When the mountain continued to hiss, teeming with pressure from below, she struggled to rise to her feet.

Stumbling as she limped to the edge of the mountain, the woman leaned weakly against a jagged portion of rock that jutted out along the rim of the crater. The translucent white blaze which hugged her curves like an outline began to fade. She coughed as she inhaled some of the hot grey ash that was spewing out of the volcano’s mouth. She glanced up at the steamy plume with dismay, and looked down at her damaged lime-green jumpsuit. She began hastily brushing ash and clumps of drying lava from her bizarre garment.

"I am never doing that again," she vowed.

Jumping off the edge of the crater, the woman began to levitate slowly toward the ground. She interlocked her arms across her chest and frowned at the skyline of a city visible to the north. In the blink of an eye, she propelled her body across the dozens of miles between the mountain and the metropolis. She now hovered above a busy intersection, staring down in confusion.

Is this Seattle? she whispered as she lowered herself to the sidewalk. Looks different without piles of dead bodies in the streets. She ignored the judgmental looks as pedestrians strolling by examined her oddly vibrant, neon-green outfit. When a grandmother pulled her small child away protectively, and the young boy stared up at her with his mouth in a little O-shape of surprise, the woman growled. She reached up to touch her curly black hair to check if it was out of place. Finding nothing wrong with her appearance, she made her way to a payphone.

Staring at the machine in bewilderment for a moment, she seemed to be trying to remember how to use it. Mumbling a few numbers under her breath, she lifted a hand. Her fingers paused slightly in front of the phone, not making contact, but causing the receiver to float toward her ear and mouth. Numbers on the keypad began to depress automatically, and the payphone reacted as though coins had been inserted, beginning the call. After a few rings, a polite, professional voice filtered through the receiver.

Kalgren Technological Enterprises, CEO’s office. Nina speaking. How may I help you?

I was supposed to meet with Thorn Kalgren an hour ago! The young woman in the green bodysuit acted convincingly annoyed. God, he still hasn’t shown up and I can’t sit here all day—I have other appointments!

The CEO is a busy man and he seems to be occupied with some sort of emergency. I apologize—I’ve been cancelling his meetings for the day, but I must have missed yours—who is calling, please?

It insults me that you even have to ask, she told the secretary. Never mind—is Thorn’s sister available? Amara should be able to help me.

I’m afraid Miss Kalgren isn’t in the office today either. Is this about one of her inventions? I could forward you to her department manager…

No, no. The dark-skinned woman chewed on her lip thoughtfully. This is a matter of some delicacy, Nina. I need to speak to a Kalgren directly—is Rose available?

Nina seemed to hesitate. Thorn’s mother is retired. Sorry, ma’am, who did you say you were? If you’re from the tax office, I can forward you to the financial…

No! Is Pax Burnson there?

Why, no. The secretary paused. In fact, I don’t believe she’s involved in any current projects. Thornton recently broke up with his girlfriend, you see.

"What?" the young girl shouted. This seemed to bother her more than the volcanic lava. She tried to regain composure after slipping out of character. Well, what about Asher Burnson? Any of the Burnsons really.

I highly doubt the Burnsons would be able to assist you with Kalgren Tech company issues. If you just call back tomorrow, I am sure we can schedule you another appointment. I’ll mention to the CEO that you called.

No! the woman in the lime jumpsuit hissed. "Where the hell is he? I’m going to kill your boss."

Uh… excuse me? Nina’s voice faltered.

"All of them. I’m going to kill all of them." The woman turned her back on the payphone and it promptly exploded behind her. People traversing the Seattle sidewalks began to shriek when she levitated several feet off the pavement. The girl ignored the attention and swept her body up into the air, moving away from onlookers in a fraction of a second. Her slender silhouette barreled through the air so briskly that she was just a kiwi-colored blur. Finally, she landed in the middle of a forest clearing before a massive Victorian manor.

Burnson Grove, she muttered. She had been hoping to see several cars in the driveway, signifying that the Kalgrens were visiting. Instead, she could tell without entering that the house was empty. She could not detect any formidable life forces within the walls of the mansion, and the Burnsons and Kalgrens were all strong enough that they would have been easy to detect. Damnation, she swore, glancing to the west. Her eyes narrowed angrily. They’re in India. I should have known.

Before the final word had left her mouth, her toned body exploded into the sky—a sleek missile launched to a distant destination, sure to wreak carnage upon arrival.

* * *

An angry-looking blonde stood atop a hexagonal portal with her hands on her hips. Beside her was a dark-haired woman whose eyes were downcast and dismal; she was staring expectantly at the lemony light consuming their legs, traveling upward to engulf their entire bodies.

Goodbye, everyone, the blonde woman said triumphantly. Sakra, please send us away.

Clearing his throat, a skinny Indian man responded with a gesture of his arm, accentuated by an elaborately embroidered sleeve. I bless you in your journeys, children. May you find all you seek and more in the Pseudosphere.

The otherworldly yellow mist surrounded the two girls for a moment before they disappeared. Sighs and murmurs traveled through the small crowd gathered at the mountaintop temple. The significance of the moment hung heavily in the air like a sickness, palpable to every member of the two families present at the secret Himalayan spot. A dreary, Sunday-morning silence descended on the group before they began to disperse.

A tall blonde man, clad in a custom-tailored business suit, pulled an older man aside roughly. You might be a king among gods, he hissed, but that does not give you any right to play at being a father!

Thorn! You will not speak to your dad that way, Rose Kalgren said in disappointment as she followed the men to a private corner of Sakra’s Point.

Thornton’s head snapped to his mother, his blue eyes fixing her with an icy glare. "Why not? He has never shown me any kind of support. I just proposed to the woman I love, and she refused because my father convinced her that I wasn’t worthy." Thornton’s fists were clenched, pulling his skin taut over reddened knuckles. Mere minutes ago, he had smashed his hand into his father’s face—he was now tempted to begin an encore performance.

"You’re not worthy, Vincent said simply. You are a descendant of the royal bloodlines of devas—and yet you act like a filthy human slug."

Hey, hey! Calm down, both of you! Rose pushed herself between her husband and son angrily. She gestured to the dark-haired family chatting a few feet away. What will the Burnsons think of us? Honestly! Hold onto your testosterone until we get home.

Thornton was already unbuttoning his blazer and loosening his tie. It’s better to get this off my chest here, Mom. We can’t really have an all-out fight in America. Since we’re in the middle of nowhere, I feel like I should seize the day.

Do you even know why I insulted you, boy? Vincent asked, cracking his neck from side to side. He seemed unfazed by his son’s threats. Not merely because you deserved it, but because of the moment you chose to propose. You have the most inappropriate timing thinkable.

Timing? Thornton asked, moving forward until his nose was inches away from his father’s face. "That was my only chance to reach her before she entered that place!"

She will be back in a few days—could you not have waited for her to return?

Time is distorted in the vector zone! Thornton tossed his blazer to the ground angrily. It will seem like years to her. If she isn’t strong enough… she could spend a lifetime in there. She could forget all about me.

Rose laughed. Honey, Pax Burnson couldn’t forget about you if she picked up a degenerative disease. She would sooner forget her own name.

"Mom, she just entered the Pseudosphere. I know you’ve never been to a different dimension, but I have—and let me tell you this. The vector zone is exactly the kind of place that makes you forget your own name."

Vincent scoffed. You should have asked her to marry you months ago.

That helps, Father. I can’t exactly turn back time now, can I?

Vincent shrugged. Sure you can. You can travel back in time and ask before you cheated on her. Ask her on her 26th birthday or Christmas. Women never refuse on special occasions. Something about the atmosphere.

Thornton began to calm down when he saw that his father was actually offering him advice. Maybe the powerful demigod was still on his side after all. I’m not strong enough to perform the technique for time travel, he admitted, hoping the older man would offer to help.

"You’re my son. You damn well are strong enough," Vincent said.

Thornton’s eyes narrowed. But I don’t have the time to go through the full procedure. I have an important full-time job.

Of course. Because pushing paper at the office is your main priority, Vincent mocked.

Honey, that’s not nice, Rose said disapprovingly. "Thorn has been running all of Kalgren Tech for over a decade now. His role is challenging, and you don’t give him enough credit. He can’t just focus on carrying on your legacy—there’s mine too."

Thornton lowered his voice, glancing over at the Burnsons to make sure they were engaged in conversation and could not hear his words. Father, do you really think I can manage the time travel?

Oh, for heaven’s sake! Rose said, looking skyward.

Vincent crossed his arms and shrugged. Probably. It obviously isn’t an easy procedure to master—or every idiot with a bit of deva blood could accomplish the feat. It needs to be a grave situation. It needs to matter more than life itself. Obviously Pax isn’t that important to you or you would have already gotten her back.

How can you say that! Thornton yelled. "She is the most important part of my life!"

In one fluid motion Vincent had slammed Thornton to the ground. And what about your sister, boy? Do you care about Amara at all? Because if you did, you would know that your sister isn’t strong enough to survive the vector zone.

Rose’s hand flew to her chest while Thornton’s eyes went wide. Vince! Rose gasped, beginning to hyperventilate. You said she could… you lied to me! Did you send my little girl to die?

Thornton glanced across the room, noticing that his best friend had stopped conversing with his family and was looking in their direction. Asher Burnson’s face had darkened when he heard Vincent confirm his fears for Amara’s safety.

I’m trusting Pax to take care of my daughter, Vincent said, his blue eyes flashing in rage. He grasped his son’s neck roughly to retrieve his attention. "Do you understand now, boy? Everything depends on Pax. She must focus—she needs to focus more now than ever in her life. She has natural power bursting at the seams, a fountain of pure prana—but she does not know how to channel or control it. If she makes one mistake, your sister will suffer. Amara isn’t strong."

Father… why did you let her go in there? Thornton pictured his little sister’s face. He gulped, more from fear than the pressure on his trachea.

"I am hoping it will change her. The easiest way for a person to accomplish anything is if there is a need to do so. When failure is not an option, you will find that people fail significantly less." Vincent released his son, offering him a hand to help him off the ground.

Thornton grasped his father’s forearm to lift himself, feeling embarrassed once he was standing before the older man. He felt humbled by his father’s great wisdom and strength, and the continually impressive scope of Vincent’s forethought. I’m sorry. I guess Amara does deserve this opportunity, he admitted.

"Hmph. The truth is I don’t expect Amara to grow much. I believe she will continue to hide behind Pax and double the pressure on the poor girl to keep the both of them alive. No matter—Pax can handle that if only she doesn’t allow herself to be distracted. Do you understand now, boy? She doesn’t need trivialities on her mind right now. She doesn’t need to be thinking of whether her wedding cake should be chocolate, vanilla, or fucking marble! She needs to be concentrating on growing connected with the source of her power—on meditation and controlling her prana—for the future of our whole race! Vincent turned to Rose and spoke softly. For the record, I prefer chocolate."

I’ll make a note of it, dear, said Rose Kalgren with a nod. She whipped a notebook out of her lab coat and pulled her glasses down from her head, dropping them on the bridge of her nose. Retrieving a pen from behind her ear, she scribbled the shorthand for chocolate directly beside a complex drawing of infinite space.

Future of our whole race? Thornton said in confusion. He was sure that his father was just spouting grandiose garbage, but he was curious nonetheless.

Yes, Vincent said. I have given up any expectation of my own children taking pride in our heritage. Pax is my only hope. I know she won’t disappoint me—she’ll be the one teaching my grandchildren and great-grandchildren our ways long after I’m gone. I may be a deva but I won’t live forever. It’s imperative that the legacy of what we have achieved is not lost, and Pax is the only one interested and dedicated enough to take charge. She cares about her roots. Unlike you and Amara, she cares about her strength.

Thornton stared at his father in shock. He had not known that the older man had such long-term ambitions for his fiery young girlfriend. He swallowed, rubbing his sore neck. Could Pax handle all these responsibilities? How could it be that Vincent was always looking ahead, always planning for battles to come?

You made her angry, boy. Whether or not you know it, that was the best thing you could do for her. A blessing in disguise. No one seeks power when they are happy—but anger motivates a person to travel great lengths. I hoped that you would have enough sense not to interfere in the girl’s dedication until she had finished achieving the heightened level of strength she seeks.

So what you’re saying is that you didn’t want me to propose to her so that she would stay angry at me? Thornton asked in disbelief.

Precisely.

Don’t you care about my life, Father? Don’t you care that her anger is directed at me? Don’t you care that it’s killing me to be separated from her?

Not really.

Thornton shook his head incredulously. You can’t just manipulate me like some emotionless pawn. You can’t play with our lives like this!

You did this to yourself, son. I wasn’t the one who put my dick in another woman. Vincent was turning to leave when he noticed the death-glare that Rose was sending him. Realizing how callous he sounded, he tried to soften his expression and tone of voice. He glanced back at his son. If you want to know the truth, Thorn—she’s going to agree to marry you. She’ll be yours in the end regardless of how much she tries to resist.

Why do you say that, Father?

It’s in her blood to choose the strongest available mate. In addition to that, she’s been emotionally attached to you since her birth. Pax may be the strongest woman on earth—but she doesn’t have the emotional strength to let go of you, regardless of what you put her through and how you hurt her. Deep down you already knew this, and that’s why you took advantage of the situation.

You’re wrong, Thornton said with a frown. I never meant to do that. You don’t even understand how fragile this situation is—it’s all black and white to you. You forget that Pax and I are mostly human. There are more important things than physical strength—like honor, honesty, and respect…

Vincent rolled his eyes. Rubbish. We are all physical creatures at the end of the day. Every species works this way. She will choose you based on the mere power of your bloodline—your supremacy is unmatched.

Father, Thornton asked through gritted teeth. What did you tell Pax when you spoke to her alone?

That is confidential.

Did you tell her to refuse me? Thornton demanded desperately.

It is none of your concern.

Chapter 2: After Room One

Pseudosphere, Month Five

My handwriting is a mess. I doubt I’ll ever be able to read any of these notes again. I’d like to blame it on med school and say that I had to take notes so fast that my script became an indiscernible scrawl, but the fact is that I took most of my notes on my laptop. I can’t even remember the last time I used a pen and paper, and there is a decidedly antiquarian vibe to it. It’s comforting. I am not writing for the purpose of re-reading these notes later, but just to engage in the motion of writing. After spending five months in a place that makes hell look like Disneyland, each stroke of my pen is therapeutic.

Time here feels different. I knew it would be different, but I never considered how it would feel. Everything blends into one continuous circle gyrating around us. I no longer have any concept of yesterday, today, or tomorrow. I feel a sense of urgency to hang on to the human parts of me. I am filled with the fear that I am changing into something unrecognizable. I realize that’s the whole point of this—to grow more familiar with my goddess heritage—but I didn’t know that I would need to lose so much of my humanity in order to do so.

It’s harder for Amara than it is for me. She can’t even give up eyeliner.

I believe we’ve been in this place for five months. I wonder how much time has passed on the outside? A few minutes, or several hours? I wonder if everyone is still just as we left them. Maybe Thorn is still standing around outside and yelling at his dad.

The pen hovered within a leather-gloved hand for a moment, suspended above the page. Pax Burnson allowed her lips to curl into a subtle smile at the thought of the blonde man. She could not believe it had been five months since she had seen him, for he still occupied every recess of her mind.

Or maybe he’s already returned to the office. Maybe he’s sitting at that solid mahogany desk of his—in his thinking pose. His elbow on the wooden surface, and his hand lightly pressed against his chin. Maybe he’s absent-mindedly stroking his five o’clock shadow, stressing about how the workday never actually ends for the big-shot CEO of Kalgren Tech. Possibly, he’s staring at his laptop, and trying to work—but he can’t help thinking about me. Just a little. For Sakra’s sake! Why is it that every time I think of home, all I do is imagine Thorn? I hardly think of my dad, I hardly think of Grandma or Uncle Ash. I hardly think of anyone but Thorn, sitting in that ergonomic office chair and polishing his glasses when he gets flustered. I think about whether he could be with another woman right now—on that same mahogany desk. It wouldn’t be the first time. He really is a thorn in my foot. A thorn in my pancreas.

And I think I might marry him.

Pax exhaled a shuddering breath, and the pen snapped in two in her hand. Shit! she cursed, as the navy blue ink spilled all over her black glove and the white page, ruining her writing. She had only brought a few pens and a few pairs of gloves with her to the vector zone. She needed to conserve their supplies. She heard a rustling a few feet away in the small cubic room.

Paxie? called a groggy voice. How long was I sleeping?

I’m not sure exactly, Pax answered as she pulled off her gloves. By my estimation it was something approaching 72 hours. Or the equivalent of whatever that is here.

Amara groaned, stretching out and entangling her hands in the sheets and pillows. It sure is good to wake up in a real bed. Have you slept yet since we completed the first trial?

Sure, Pax said, rising to her feet, but I found it difficult to sleep after Room One. Getting constantly struck by lightning kind of ruined my appetite for sleep. She gazed at the empty purple wall where a door had previously been—there was now only a small golden plaque in its place with a single word inscribed in the metal: Retribution. She did not understand why this had appeared; she had never heard of decorative tablets appearing in the vector zone.

Don’t remind me, please. Amara shuddered violently and wrapped her arms around herself. I swear I had a nightmare about going to the dermatologist. He told me that my skin had been damaged from exposure to high voltage. I started crying and asked if he could recommend a good night cream so that I wouldn’t get wrinkles prematurely.

Pax narrowed her eyes, squinting at the blonde woman. "We barely got out of Room One alive. I took most of the lightning for you! And you’re thinking about your skin? Good Sakra, you are such a diva."

I’m an heiress! Amara protested, sitting up and running her fingertips over her cheeks anxiously. We may be locked in this dimension for a while, but when I get back to the real world, zero time will have passed. I have a responsibility to look good for my family and our company—you know, in case of media coverage and such.

With a deep sigh, Pax shut her notebook. She began walking toward one of the yellow doors. Let’s just focus on how we’re going to beat the next five trials. The real world doesn’t matter much in here. Come on, princess.

Paxie. What are you doing? Amara’s voice was tremulous. Don’t touch that doorknob! I’m not ready to enter Room Two yet!

What’s the alternative? Pax asked, turning to observe her friend with amusement.

We can just chill out here for a few more days, Amara suggested, trying to seem casual.

Pax could tell from the way that the woman nervously combed the blonde strands near her ear that she was panicking. It was a habit she shared with her brother. Chill out? Pax repeated with a smirk.

Yes! I mean, look at this cute little cubic room. Amara gestured around enthusiastically. Decorated by ancient gods! Rich eggplant-colored wallpaper, and charming amber doors. More importantly, beds. A shower. Snacks, toothbrushes, and…

Mara. We need to keep moving forward. It took us about five months to complete the first trial. If we continue at the same rate, we’ll be stuck in the Pseudosphere for another two years.

Amara swallowed, looking at her friend timidly. I can’t, Paxie. I can’t do this. That was the most awful experience of my life, and I can’t survive such pain five more times. I’m used to life being easy—and pleasant. The blonde woman’s pale blue eyes darted around the room to the five doors which remained.

Did you think this was a game? Did you think we’d come in here and hang out for years and just automatically come out better beings? Pax’s dark eyes seemed to be more shadowy than usual. "I have bad news for you, Amara Kalgren. The trials are supposed to get more and more challenging. Two years is the generous estimate—that’s if we continue at this rate. If we slack off, it could be five or ten years. If you stop trying altogether, we could never go home."

Ash was right, Amara moaned, putting both hands in her hair and massaging her scalp with frustration. He knows me so well. He knew I wasn’t tough enough. That must be why he left me.

Pax clamped her eyelids shut in disgust. She clenched her fists, and ground her teeth together roughly. Okay. Then come with me and prove my stupid uncle wrong.

No. Please, Paxie…

Growing exhausted with her friend’s sniveling, Pax reached out and turned the doorknob, yanking open the amber door. She gazed inside with a combination of fear and excitement. Every day we waste resting is a day we could have spent getting stronger and improving ourselves.

Amara bolted out of bed and pushed the door closed, putting her body between Pax and the portal. What’s the rush? she asked, holding up both hands in a gesture of peace. She tried to cover her terror with forced cheerfulness. The trials aren’t going anywhere. Let’s gloat about how hilarious it was that Thorn and Ash never knew that we were joined together to be Para—let’s plan what we’re going to do when we get back. For example, what if the guys ask us for her last name? What are we going to call her—Medea what? And what about her childhood? We need to create a backstory for her so that she is a convincingly real person to fool them…

This isn’t the time for that, Pax said softly.

Please, Amara begged. Let’s just hang out and talk about boys for a bit. Like we used to when we were little girls.

Mara. Pax glared at her friend. A hot wave of red energy swept around her body to signify her growing anger. "That is the last thing I want to do. I came here seeking life-threatening danger because it is the only thing that will keep my head clear. I need to be absorbed with staying alive so that I don’t have time to think about your brother. If we stop going forward for a minute, my mind starts to wander. I can’t afford to let that happen right now."

"Why not? We just had a huge accomplishment and deserve to unwind. Okay, let’s talk about Thorn! Let’s make a pros-and-cons list about whether you should marry him! Pro number one, you get to be my sister-in-law forever. Con number one, well, there’s the whole thing about redheads in his office…"

Shut up, Pax said quietly. If I get angry and screw up when we’re inside, you’ll get killed.

Amara wanted to make an arrogant retort, but she knew it was true. She was completely dependent on the strength of the dark-haired woman. Feeling the need to attack her friend in some way, she placed one hand on her hip and used the other to point at Pax’s hand. If you don’t want to think about my brother, why are you wearing his ring?

Pax glanced down at the lump under her black leather gloves. She could visualize the beautiful orange diamond just beneath the fabric. Just a little something to remind me of home when things get tough. To give me a reason to keep fighting.

So you prefer not to think about Thorn—yet when your back is against the wall, you use him to keep yourself strong. Explain this logic to me, honey. Amara’s grin was cocky and teasing. Although Pax knew it was good-natured, she could not help growing upset.

There is no logic, Pax admitted. She felt as though the ring on her left hand was suddenly choking her finger and cutting off her circulation. Thorn Kalgren turns me into a brainless fool—and if anyone could understand what that man does to me, it’s you.

Amara’s smile disappeared. I’m sorry. There’s no one else to talk to in this godforsaken place! I miss arguing with people. I miss teasing and complaining and acting superior. But you know, my situation is different than yours. If Ash had proposed to me, I would have agreed without reservation!

I think I will agree. I’m not sure. Pax smiled sadly, fingering the ring through the worn material of her glove. This little piece of metal somehow has the power to make me feel that everything’s going to be okay.

Amara nodded and took a deep breath. Okay! she breathed with determination. I’m ready for Room Two.

Really? Pax’s eyes lit up. Do you want to join our bodies together first so that you can share my strength?

It’s always easier being Para, Amara said with hesitation, but I need to stop depending on you to carry me. I’ll try to do this in my own body, and if I can’t take it, we’ll coalesce.

Pax gripped the doorknob again, and Amara stepped aside shakily. As the slender woman’s black-gloved hand turned on the doorknob, Amara began to panic.

Wait! Amara shouted. Before we go in there, can you at least tell me what my dad said to you? You know, way back before we entered the Pseudosphere?

Pax smiled. It’s not important.

Everything my dad says is important. He’s the King of Devas.

Pax flung the door fully open. Don’t you want to see what’s inside Room Two?

Amara had been dreading this moment for months. She had heard stories about the brutalities of the vector zone, but she had never believed they could be true. While most stories were exaggerated, she now knew that her brother and ex-boyfriend had understated their tales about the nastiness of this place. Oh, Sakra, Amara whispered when she peered beyond the door. She shivered. It looks like a fucking ocean of liquid nitrogen!

What does your dermatologist say about frostbite? Pax asked.

That’s seriously not funny, Amara scolded, but her sternness was interrupted as her friend tossed her forward into the foggy white room. The blond woman screamed at the top of her lungs as her skin hit the subzero liquid. Pax!

Pax shrugged lightly as she moved forward into the room. Maybe there’s a face cream for that. When she inhaled, the freezing air choked her and prickled her lungs like shards of glass. She turned around and watched as the yellow doorway closed behind them and disappeared. They would be stuck in Room Two until they had completed the trial. Glancing at her blonde companion, she scowled as the other woman tearfully struggled to levitate above the liquid. Tears began to pour down Amara’s cheeks as she hastily rubbed her skin to avoid getting frostbite. Pax was somehow filled with the conviction that Vincent’s spoiled daughter was much more powerful than she had ever allowed herself to believe.

Chapter 3: Goats or Leopards

Thornton stood at the very edge of the temple, contemplating the rest of the mountain range below. Most of the scenery was obscured by a thin film of clouds that wafted far below Sakra’s point. His parents and the Burnsons had just left via the portal created by Sakra himself.

"Are you sure you don’t want to go back to America?" the mystical little

Reviews for Parabellum

[draak_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

In book one Pax and Amara are best friends and also Devas. To get back at their ex-boyfriends, who are also Devas, they learn the ancient magick of joining their bodies together to make one woman who will get revenge. At the end of book 1 Pax and Amara decide to get away from everything and choose to enter a realm called the Pseudosphere. In this world there are 6 challenges they must overcome. It could take years or they could die trying. Back in this world a visitor from the future has come to warn them of a comet that will destroy the planet and ask for their help in rewriting history. Who will step up and help?Nadia gives us just enough in the Pseudosphere to satisfy us. I hate to give things away but I will say that the fight between the 2 Pax's was brutal. I had to wonder what good Amara was to Pax because she whined alot while in the sphere, but her helplessness made Pax train harder and therefore made her stronger. In this book we get to know their families better and I absolutely fell in love with Rose and Vincent, Thorn and Amara's parents. As with Nadia's other series, this book was better than the last. Chapter 31 had me on the edge of my seat and I couldn't read fast enough, while the last line left me laughing. I fell in love with mermaids in her first series and now I am in love with Devas and want more. I highly recommend this and all her books. You won't be disappointed.