Novels by Rachel Holt

Ethan left the hospital the next morning against the doctor's advice.His ribs were still cracked. His face was still swollen. But he could walk and breathe and think clearly, and that was enough.Claire had wanted to stay with him overnight but he sent her home. She needed rest. Real rest. Not sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair watching him sleep.Sophia had left awkwardly after walking in on them. She mumbled something about checking on her grandfather and disappeared before either of them could say anything.Now Ethan stood at the hospital's billing desk on the first floor. A young woman sat behind the counter typing on a computer. Her name tag said Rachel."Mr. Cross," she said without looking up. "Your total comes to four hundred and seventy-three thousand dollars."Ethan blinked. "For one night?""Emergency surgery. Specialist consultations. Private room. Medical imaging. Pain management." She finally looked up. "You did not have insurance listed in our system.""I do no

The hospital room smelled like disinfectant and clean sheets.Ethan lay in the bed staring at the ceiling. His ribs were wrapped tight. His nose had been reset for the third time in his life. The doctors wanted to keep him overnight for observation but he had already told them he was leaving in the morning whether they liked it or not.James had come by an hour ago."The leader escaped," James said.. "We had the harbor locked down within minutes but he was already gone. Morrison thinks he had a boat waiting offshore."Ethan nodded."He will come back," James continued. "Angrier,better and prepared. This is not over.""I know."James stared at him. "You almost died tonight.""Almost does not count Ethan said""Next time it might."Ethan did not answer.James shook his head and left.Now the room was quiet again. Just the faint beeping of machines in the hallway and the sound of his own breathing.The door opened.Claire walked in. She had changed out of her torn clothes. The cut on her

Ethan moved faster than the leader expected.He closed the distance in two steps, grabbed the leader's wrist and twisted it away from Claire's throat. The knife sliced through empty air instead of skin.The leader tried to counter but Ethan was already inside his guard. He drove his elbow into the man's ribs. Hard. The leader grunted and stumbled backward.Claire fell forward in the chair, gasping.The leader recovered quickly. He lunged at Ethan with the knife.Ethan sidestepped and caught his arm mid-strike. Twisted it behind his back. The knife clattered to the floor.But the leader was strong. Trained. He slammed his head backward into Ethan's face.Pain exploded across Ethan's already-broken nose. His grip loosened for just a second.That was all the leader needed.He spun free and kicked Ethan hard in the chest. Ethan flew backward and crashed into a stack of crates. Wood splintered. His vision blurred.The leader did not press the attack. Instead he turned and ran toward the ba

Ethan looked at the knife pressed against Claire's throat.The leader was not bluffing. Ethan could see it in his posture. In the steadiness of his hand. This man had killed before. He would do it again without hesitation.Claire's eyes were locked on Ethan's face. She was trying to stay calm but her chest was rising and falling too fast. Her hands were shaking behind the chair."The ring," the leader said. "Now."Ethan did not move."I will count to three," the leader continued. "If you do not tell me where it is, she dies. One."Claire's jaw tightened. She shook her head slightly. Do not give it to him."Two."Ethan's mind was racing. He could rush the leader. Maybe close the distance before the knife moved. Maybe.But probably not.And if he was wrong, Claire would be dead before he took two steps."Three—""It is at my parents' house."The words came out flat and final.The leader's hand stopped. "What?""The ring. It is at my parents' old house. Hidden in the floor under the kitc

The first operative came from the left with a baton aimed at Ethan's head.Ethan ducked under it and drove his fist into the man's ribs. Hard. The operative gasped and stumbled back.No time to stop. Two more were already on him from the right.Ethan blocked a punch with his forearm, twisted, grabbed the second operative's wrist and yanked him forward. Used his momentum against him. Slammed him into the first operative. Both men crashed to the floor.A kick came at his knee from behind.Ethan shifted his weight at the last second. The boot grazed his leg instead of breaking it. He spun and caught the operative's ankle mid-air, twisted hard. The man went down with a grunt.Four down.Eight to go.They were not stopping. They were not slowing down.Three operatives rushed him at once. Coordinated. One high, one low, one straight through the middle.Ethan moved like water. Sidestepped the first, ducked the second, drove his elbow into the third man's jaw. Bone cracked. The operative's he

Pier 19 was abandoned.It had probably been a working dock at some point, years ago. Now it was just rotting wood and rusted metal and the smell of salt water and oil mixing together in the cold night air. A single warehouse sat at the end of the pier, its windows dark, its walls streaked with rust.Ethan parked the car and stepped out.The wind off the water was cold and sharp. He zipped his jacket and walked toward the warehouse, his footsteps quiet on the wooden boards beneath him.He had switched the real ring for a fake before leaving the villa. The fake was good. Same size, same weight. Same basic shape. He had made it weeks ago as a precaution, never thinking he would actually need it.Tonight he needed it.The warehouse door was open. Just slightly. A thin line of yellow light spilling out from inside.Ethan pushed it open and walked in.The inside was large and mostly empty. Concrete floor. High ceiling. A few old crates stacked against the walls. Bare bulbs hanging from meta

The observation deck at the top of the crystalline spire had become Jack's favorite place to think. From here, he could see the entire city spread out below—rebuilt stronger and more beautiful than it had ever been, filled with people living lives that would have been impossible without the protection his network provided.But tonight, as the dual moons cast silver light across the transformed skyline, Jack wasn't admiring their achievements. He was remembering where it all began."Hard to believe it started with Charles Oliver's execution," he said aloud, knowing his friends would hear him through their permanent mental link even though they were scattered across different dimensions on various missions."You mean it started with a weak boy nobody wanted," Lucy's voice replied warmly through their connection, her protective instincts wrapping around the memory with fierce affection.Jack smiled, pressing his hand against the medallion that had become part of his chest. The golden sur

The war room deep within the crystalline spire had become the nerve center for the most ambitious defensive project in dimensional history. Holographic displays showed the status of their entire universal cluster—thousands of realities connected by the portal network, each one now monitored by their expanded consciousness.Jack stood at the center of it all, no longer the weak boy who had once struggled to survive in a world that saw him as worthless. The medallion had become so integrated with his being that its golden surface was visible beneath his skin, pulsing with the rhythm of dimensional currents across countless worlds. But unlike the corrupt artifacts that had consumed previous wielders, his medallion was sustained by the bonds that connected him to his friends."Protocol Seven is now fully operational across all monitored dimensions," Sierra reported, her tactical awareness coordinating defensive measures on a scale that would have been incomprehensible months ago. "Early w

Six months after the dimensional crisis, their city bore little resemblance to the place that had nearly been destroyed by Vale's invasion. The rebuilding hadn't simply restored what was lost—it had created something entirely new.Where the old council headquarters had stood, a crystalline spire now reached toward the sky, its faceted surface designed to detect dimensional anomalies from hundreds of miles away. The building served as headquarters for the Dimensional Monitoring Initiative, the organization Jack and his friends had established to prevent future crises."Seventeen minor rifts detected across the northern sectors this week," Sierra reported during their morning briefing, her tactical awareness processing data streams that would have overwhelmed any individual mind. "All within normal parameters, but the frequency is increasing."Jack nodded, his consciousness simultaneously monitoring the reports while maintaining awareness of dimensional currents across their entire real

As the final seconds of his transformation ticked away, Jack felt his consciousness crystallize around a revelation that changed everything. The medallions' power didn't have to choose between perfect guardianship and human connection—it could create something entirely new."What if the burden doesn't have to be mine alone?" he said through their shared mental link, his voice carrying wonder despite his fading physical form. "What if we've been thinking about this wrong from the beginning?"Through their psychic connection, his friends felt his idea taking shape—not one guardian managing impossible responsibilities, but a network of consciousness that could handle the dimensional network's complexity while remaining anchored to humanity."You mean permanent integration?" Sierra breathed, her enhanced understanding immediately grasping the implications. "All of us linked directly to the dimensional network?""The ancient guardians failed because they became isolated from the people the

Jack's consciousness spread like spilled mercury across the dimensional network, his awareness touching worlds he'd never imagined. He could feel the pulse of life on countless planets, sense the delicate balance that held reality together, perceive threats to dimensional stability that existed light-years away.It was overwhelming and magnificent and terrifying all at once.Through his expanded perception, he could see their own world as just one node in an infinite web—small, fragile, but pulsing with the fierce determination of beings who refused to surrender to despair. He could feel Mrs. Sophie organizing relief efforts in the ruined city, Lord Rasmus's surviving soldiers helping with rescue operations despite their old conflicts, even the corrupted treasure hunters slowly recovering their humanity as the dimensional toxins were purged from their systems.But he could also feel himself slipping away from all of it. His connection to individual human concerns was fading as cosmic

The moment Jack's hand closed around Vale's dark medallion, reality screamed.Two opposing forces—one meant to protect, one designed to consume—collided within his consciousness with the fury of colliding stars. Jack felt his sense of self being torn apart and rebuilt simultaneously, his awareness expanding beyond the boundaries of single-dimensional existence.Vale's eyes widened in shock as his dark artifact began resonating with Jack's medallion, the two pieces fighting for dominance within the same host. "What are you doing, you fool? You'll destroy us both!""Maybe," Jack gasped, feeling the competing energies threaten to tear his mind apart. "But at least I'll take you with me."The dark medallion's hunger crashed against Jack's consciousness like a tidal wave of pure malevolence. It whispered promises of power beyond imagination, showed him visions of ruling infinite realities, offered him the ability to reshape existence according to his will. The corruption was overwhelming,

Time did not actually stop. It just felt that way because everything happened at once—Ben Tate's guardian corps hitting Verons from three sides simultaneously, Roseline's blades carving through the air where his throat had been a moment before, Marcus throwing something that exploded into blinding light that made the shadow coating Verons's body recoil.The coordinated assault bought Anna exactly two seconds.She grabbed Jacob and started dragging him toward the exit. His body left a blood trail across the sanctum floor, red mixing with the darkness that seemed to be seeping from the walls themselves.Verons recovered from the surprise attack faster than should have been possible. His shadow-blade swept through Ben's guardians and three of them fell with wounds that would not heal. Roseline barely dodged the backswing, her coat torn but her body intact as she rolled away and came up moving toward the exit."Running?" Verons called after them, his voice carrying amusement that made Ann

The guardian blast hit Verons square in the chest and actually drove him backward. Shadow peeled away from his body in strips, exposing flesh underneath that looked wrong—too pale, veins visible through skin that was becoming translucent. For three seconds Jacob thought Anna had found a weakness.Then Verons stabilized himself and the shadow reformed. Faster this time, flowing back over exposed flesh like water filling a container. Within moments he looked exactly as he had before, completely unmarked by an attack that should have vaporized a normal opponent."Interesting," Verons said, examining himself with clinical detachment. "That actually hurt. Not much, but more than zero. Perhaps you two are not completely useless after all."Jacob and Anna moved together without needing to speak. They had trained for this—fighting as a unit, covering each other's weaknesses, combining their powers in ways that multiplied effectiveness. Every technique they knew, every strategy they had practi

Verons's transformation completed and the temperature in the sanctum dropped so fast that breath turned to mist. The shadow that coated his body was no longer just a layer—it was part of him now, integrated with flesh in ways that violated everything Jacob understood about physical reality."You see?" Verons's voice came from everywhere, not just his mouth. "This is what your ancestors could have become if they possessed vision beyond their narrow moral constraints. Power without limitation. Existence without the weakness of purely mortal form."Jacob channeled energy through his artifacts and fired a concentrated blast. The attack crossed the chamber faster than thought, aimed precisely at the spot where Verons's heart should still be located beneath the merged flesh and shadow.Verons was not there when it arrived.He had moved. Not dodged or blocked—simply moved from one location to another without appearing to cross the space between. The blast struck empty air and dissipated agai

Jacob did not answer Verons. He attacked instead, channeling everything he had left through his blade and driving forward with speed that would have killed a normal human from the acceleration alone.Verons blocked without effort. Their weapons met and the impact sent shockwaves through the temple courtyard that knocked down fighters on both sides. Shadow beasts scattered from the force of the collision, reforming seconds later to continue their assault on the survivors."Is that all?" Verons asked, his merged voice carrying amusement. "The great Dark Blade reduced to this?"Anna hit him from the side with a guardian blast strong enough to crack stone. It struck Verons full in the chest and actually drove him backward three steps. For a moment Jacob thought they had hurt him.Then Verons laughed."Better," he said, shadow already healing whatever minimal damage the attack had caused. "But still insufficient."He moved faster than before. One hand caught Anna's throat while the other d

The shadow army hit the southern perimeter like a black tidal wave. Hundreds of creatures, maybe thousands, swarming the defensive positions before most fighters had finished arming themselves. Screams cut through the predawn darkness as the first line collapsed under the assault.Jacob ran. No time for orders or strategy, just raw reaction as he channeled power through his artifacts and threw himself into the breach where shadow beasts were tearing through fighters who had been writing goodbye letters thirty seconds ago.His blade cut through the nearest creature and he was already moving to the next, then the next, falling into the rhythm of combat that his body knew better than conscious thought. Anna appeared at his left, her hands blazing with guardian light, buying space for fighters to retreat and regroup behind them.But the beasts kept coming."They are not stopping!" Leo's voice carried from somewhere to the right. "They are pushing straight through toward the camp center!"

The camp did not sleep that night. How could they? Tomorrow they would either kill a god or die trying, and rest felt like accepting death before it arrived.Jacob walked through the preparation areas watching fighters sharpen blades that would probably break against shadow armor, checking straps on armor that would not stop mystical attacks, rehearsing formations that assumed they would live long enough to execute them. Nobody spoke to him directly but he felt their eyes tracking his movement. Looking for confidence he did not have. Searching for certainty in a man who knew better than anyone how badly outmatched they were.The mystical warriors gathered in circles, chanting rituals that would supposedly strengthen their connection to guardian energy. Marcus led one group through meditation techniques designed to expand their capacity for channeling power. It might help. Might buy them an extra thirty seconds of fighting before exhaustion claimed them.Ben Tate supervised the convent