by Dianna Love
That made Devon laugh even more.
She enjoyed the Cajun. He was the first Belador from Louisiana she’d ever met.
They had just walked across a highway bridge, which ran in front of the gigantic event arena. This walkway and drive spanned the old railroad tracks below.
Silence once more dropped over her like an invisible shroud.
Devon stopped as abruptly as she had. He held up a finger and whispered, “Stay here.”
Then he walked over to a set of steps going down to a parking deck perched to the side of the tracks. He stood on the second step, looking all around.
All at once, normal sounds of rats scurrying along the gutters and automobile engines droning returned.
Even the air seemed to move again.
Her skin prickled at the odd sensation.
Devon bent over the stairway rail to look down.
She called out telepathically, Anything unusual going on, Devon?
Not sure, came back. He turned his head to look her way then returned to whatever had drawn his attention. He added, But this is enough for me to contact Trey.
Hair raised on her arms. Even so, she never ran from anything and said, Want to go down and take a closer look?
As soon as she said that, he backed away and turned toward her. He called out, Get out of ...
His body was yanked backwards over the rail and out of sight.
Using her Belador power, she rushed over there in seconds, but couldn’t hear or see Devon. No humans were around her. She leaped off the steps to drop sixty feet and land next to the tracks.
Devon! she shouted to him mind-to-mind.
Nothing came back.
She opened her mind to call Trey.
Without a sound of warning, a hand grabbed her arm. Claws pierced her skin.
She swung the other arm around to hit whatever it was with her kinetic power. Her hand slapped energy. Not a body.
And she had no kinetics.
The hand on her arm disappeared.
She called out to Trey, Devon was ...
A cold sensation covered her as if someone had dumped ice water over her body. She shouted over and over telepathically, calling for anyone who could hear her, but her muffled words bounced around in her head.
No one called back to her.
A male figure two feet taller than her appeared as if it formed from mist in the air and glowed yellow. The face that formed had empty holes for eyes and a black maw full of needle-sharp teeth.
Torn and ragged, a translucent robe hanging on the body.
Renata tried to run. She couldn’t move, no matter how much power she called up. She tried shifting into Belador battle form with thicker muscles and a head twice her normal size.
Nothing changed in her body.
She couldn’t open her mouth, couldn’t push words out, but heard them in her head when she shouted, What are you?
He latched translucent fingers around her wrist. Searing pain rushed up her arm. She trembled, her body shaking with shock. Tears sprung from her eyes. She silently pleaded for help. Anything to stop this abomination from whatever he was doing to her.
Then he shoved his other hand straight into her chest.
Chapter 2
Daegan! Need you in Piedmont Park.
Hearing his second-in-command call out telepathically, Daegan considered the Medb warlock he’d caught skulking around the east side of downtown Atlanta on a rainy night. He tossed the limp body aside.
It landed in a mud puddle near Vladimir Quinn, Maistir over the North American Beladors.
Daegan wiped water from his eyes. “Tristan called for my aid.”
“No worries. I’ve got this, Daegan.” Quinn had dressed as one of the businessmen of this era for an earlier meeting before being requested to lend a hand tonight. He hadn’t hesitated to come immediately, showing no concern for the drizzle that soaked his suit and flattened his blond hair against his head. Under that civilized exterior beat the heart of a confident Belador warrior capable of battling preternatural beings.
In addition to kinetics and telepathy, Quinn had the unusual gift to mind lock with a supernatural being or human as well, though he avoided using it except in dire situations.
Quinn noted, “I’ll interrogate the warlock once he regains consciousness to find out if he’s hunting humans for Queen Maeve. Then I’ll call Sen to pick him up for VIPER.”
Daegan glanced around to insure no humans observed them at close to ten at night where they stood knee-deep in weeds behind a school no longer in use. Trash had been dumped back here, including a couch, and thick vines climbed the crumbling building.
With a short nod at Quinn, Daegan teleported just north of the city.
When he appeared in Piedmont Park, everything came into focus around the copse of trees where he stood within dark shadows. He’d used this access point for teleporting to the park in the past to prevent humans seeing him appear out of thin air.
That would send humans screaming.
Especially those with phones that filmed videos and snapped photos. In today’s world, everyone had those damned things.
Tristan had explained they were called devices.
Strange words on Daegan’s tongue.
If not for the ability to manipulate the images and, thereby diluting the authenticity of the photograph, humans would have figured out that supernatural beings existed by now.
He and his Beladors were doing their best to shield humans from realizing preternaturals lived among them. Some of the Beladors possessed excellent computer skills to combat the problem at the source, an evil thing called an Internet.
These humans were fortunate Beladors had continued to thrive through the ages while remaining hidden among their population. Some nonhumans were predators, but his Beladors were honorable. They’d lived peacefully, protecting humans for all these centuries while he’d been ... gone.
Rain pelted the trees and fell in a steady drizzle down Daegan’s face and the back of his neck.
Looking around, Daegan saw a handful of humans jogging alone and some walking dogs, but no Tristan.
Daegan called telepathically. Tristan, I am at the south end of the park where we normally enter. What is the problem?
Tristan’s reply came back quickly. Great. I’m close to ... umph, the foot bridge. North end. Tristan paused, sounding out of breath. I could use your... His voice cut off sharply.
Then a woman screamed, the sound coming from the same direction as Tristan’s location.
Using the cover of darkness to hide his speed, Daegan wove in and out of deep shadows to reach the footbridge in seconds.
Standing in a barely lit area far from the road bordering one side of the park, Tristan held a sobbing woman draped over one arm as he slapped kinetic hits at a troll losing its human-like glamour, plus a demon not trying to hide its horns or the tail dragging behind.
Daegan stormed forward to take on the demon, which would normally be the greater threat.
Trolls were difficult, but as an unusual Alterant Belador able to shift into a gryphon, Tristan had plenty of power.
The demon whipped its dirt-brown head around at Daegan. A wide red mouth opened to expose long fangs. Thick black outlined the rabid yellow eyes. It growled a warning.
Daegan replied with a punch of power. He drove the demon thirty feet back to slam against an old oak tree.
Tristan called over, “Careful, boss. Locals are watching. Whoa!” The troll tried to slide under Tristan’s kinetic wall. He got his hand stomped on for that and mud splattered in his face.
Twisting around, Daegan realized five humans stood way over on the opposite side of Tenth Street from the park, maybe a hundred feet away.
All of them had their damned phones out.
Daegan wished for a downpour, but the rain had slowed to a sprinkle.
But Tristan had said the quality of images taken at night would not be recognizable unless those phones were brought closer. The femal
e Tristan held away from the troll no longer screamed as her limp body sagged, clothes and hair soaked.
Daegan tossed him a quick look of question.
Wearing glasses with dark lenses to hide his glowing green eyes, Tristan shrugged. “She passed out. Probably best for now.”
Growling at Tristan like a crazed animal, the troll scooted back. “That’s mine.”
Tristan kept his voice down. “Not helping your case, troll.”
Daegan started to reach for the troll when loud footsteps splashed, coming up from behind. He spun around and shoved an arm up, but not before the demonic creature latched razor-sharp teeth on his arm and clawed his chest.
That stung like being hit by a giant wasp.
His dragon grumbled, but they could tolerate demon saliva.
Daegan pounded a fist on the demon’s head, busting one horn off. That unlocked its jaws, but then it squealed a high-pitched cry. Shouting started up from the humans across the street. This demon had to go.
Calling mind-to-mind, Daegan told Quinn, This is Daegan. Do you have a place for a demon?
If he’s contained, yes. Send him.
The demon snarled and leaped at Daegan again. He grabbed the four-toed monstrosity by its throat and shoved a hard blast of energy into its body. The demon went rigid and its back arched. The crazed eyes bulged out and teeth clacked when the mouth shut.
That looked contained to Daegan.
With his back to the street and the human attention on Tristan battling the troll, Daegan laid the demon on the ground then teleported him.
“You’re gettin’ tired, Hollywood? You’ll be dinner, too,” the troll shouted.
Daegan swung around, glanced at the insane humans now crossing the road to enter the park. He told Tristan, “I shall handle this nuisance.”
“All yours, boss.” Tristan dropped the hand he’d been using to flick kinetic hits and backed away.
Before the troll could jump on Tristan, Daegan latched a hand on its shoulder and jerked the troll around.
Fool tried to bite him.
Daegan had lost all patience with being bitten.
He grabbed the troll by the throat, surprised the troll’s lower half still appeared human in dirty gray work pants. Must be getting tired trying to hold a glamour. From the chest up, coarse black hair hung six inches long, plastered against the wet leathery green skin. A horn protruded from the back of his boxy head, bright yellow eyes full of murder bulged, and thick pointy ears to go with all that. Slobber dripped from a mouth filled with jagged fangs. Two large ones jutted up from the troll’s lower jaw.
Lifting the snarling being to eye level, Daegan said, “Are you a local troll or have you come from afar?”
The idiot raked sharp claws across Daegan’s arms, growling the whole time.
“Boss, we got company coming.”
Angling away from Tristan so the humans only saw his back, Daegan clenched his fingers tighter, surprising the troll by his ability to even hold the creature’s heavy weight one-handed.
Then Daegan called up his dragon just enough to turn his eyes reptilian with a bright silver glow. He ordered in a deep voice, “Look at me.”
The troll’s gaze lifted and lost its glow. Dull eyes now the color of a rotting banana peel focused on Daegan’s face. The troll’s mouth dropped open. He made a guttural sound that could be, “Dragon?”
Close enough.
Nodding, Daegan kept his voice low. “You have one chance to live. Tell me who sent ya.”
Indecision flittered in the troll’s gaze.
Disgusted, Daegan tightened his fingers again. The next time he did it, he’d break bones even as thick as these.
He could hear the humans now, chattering excitedly as they crept closer.
They clearly hadn’t come running to save a woman, but they’d put their foolish lives at risk to record what Tristan had explained as a video worthy of going viral.
On an invisible Internet.
Rough throat noises dragged Daegan’s attention back to the troll with its mouth opened like a fish sucking in air.
Daegan loosened his grip and whispered, “If you lie to me, I will take you to my realm and let my dragon burn you alive.”
“No.” The troll gulped and swallowed hard. “No one sent me. Came for the gold.”
That was new. “Who offered gold?”
“No name. It’s on the darknet. Said if we loaded an original film proving preternaturals exist, gold would be delivered.”
A darknet? This world might have worse things than trolls.
Tristan stepped close, telling Daegan telepathically, I’ll explain the darknet later, but it’s part of the Internet.
Daegan sighed. Life had been simpler two thousand years ago without phones, Internet, and the need to hide his true identity.
Keeping his voice soft, Tristan asked the troll, “Where was the gold to be delivered?”
Shooting a death glare at Tristan, the troll grouched, “Don’t know. Didn’t get to find out.”
“What’s that thing?” a human called out from behind.
Daegan looked over his shoulder to find the pack of humans had made it much closer. One male with curly black hair stepped forward ahead of the others.
“Fuck,” Tristan muttered then swung around to them with a hand up. “Hey, no filming. We’ve got this under control.”
One of the two girls in the group warned, “Don’t get any closer, Lonnie.”
“Hush,” Lonnie shot back. “This video is gonna have a million hits.” Out of the six people approaching, this mid-twenties male in jeans and a rain slicker appeared to be their leader. They must have had little to choose from to pick that one.
Tristan told Daegan silently, We need to prove he’s not a troll.
Daegan replied the same way, Can you do that?
If you keep a grip on the troll and hold the woman, I can handle this.
Daegan held his free arm out.
Tristan slid her body off his arm and onto Daegan’s, then he turned to face the humans.
Having paused ten feet from Tristan, Lonnie took another tentative step closer, appearing confident even though his hand trembled. “Is that thing, uh, dangerous?”
“Him? Hell, no.” Tristan made a pfft sound at the possibility. “This fool loves to dress up like a troll and scare people. He’s off his meds. We’re here to take him back to the facility. Please stop filming. His family is embarrassed enough.”
Pausing in stride, Lonnie complained, “Aw, shit. I thought he was one of those weird things running around the city.”
“What weird things?” Tristan asked, sounding sincerely curious when he knew exactly what the humans hunted.
“You know, supernatural beings.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Tristan scoffed, making it sound as if Lonnie was an idiot. “Did you really buy into all that crap?”
Daegan admired Tristan’s relaxed manner and ability to blend in as a human with his wheat-colored hair cut in a modern short style, plus his usual worn-looking blue jeans and a gray T-shirt, all of which the rain had drenched.
When Lonnie started mumbling, “I can still make this work,” Tristan inched toward him.
“If you want weird, you should all be at UnveilCon in Buckhead,” Tristan said, still making small deliberate movements hidden by his shifting stance.
Lonnie foolishly continued forward, still holding the camera up. When the human stepped close enough, Tristan snatched the phone from Lonnie’s hands and tapped on it quickly. Then he handed the device back in a matter of seconds.
Lonnie whined, “What’d you do?”
Tristan shrugged, “Sorry, man, but I get paid a lot of money to run security for the family. This can’t make the news.”
The human stared at his phone as if his favorite toy had been broken. “You wiped out my freaking video, you asshole. That would have gone viral even if he isn’t a troll.”
“Exactly,” Tristan agreed. Pushing pow
er into his voice, he added, “Now get out of here before I make you regret owning that phone.”
The troll started kicking his feet. Daegan gave his body a shake and his captive settled down again.
Fear finally showed up in Lonnie’s eyes.
He backed away. When he turned to the others, they had all left him, running back across Tenth Street.
Daegan had his doubts about that one reaching old age, maybe not even next week.
Once they scattered, Tristan turned back to Daegan with a grin.
Daegan arched an eyebrow and cast a look at the woman on his shoulder.
Smile wiped away, Tristan stepped over to take her. “Sorry, boss. What are we doing with the troll?”
“Hey, you two, stop scaring off the locals,” a female voice called.
“Dammit.” Tristan wheeled around, ready to face the next problem, which turned out not to be one.
Evalle Kincaid, an Alterant Belador like Tristan, who could also shift into a gryphon, came striding up, laughing with each step. She’d pulled her long black-brown hair into a ponytail and didn’t seem to care one bit about water running off the bill of her cap. She never wore makeup, which Daegan found pleasing. He could see no reason for painting her face and preferred that natural look.
Tonight was like any other for her clothing choice. She had on the same black jeans, boots, and a sand-colored, short-sleeved shirt that had been around a long time. She’d explained once that she loved shirts she called vintage BDUs, short for Battle Dress Uniform.
The humans wouldn’t understand the dark sunglasses she also wore rain, shine, daytime, or at night, because they protected her sensitive eyes the color of a baby green lizard. Tristan’s eyes didn’t have that sensitivity, but they were just as bright an Alterant green as Evalle’s.
In spite of the irritating issues in Atlanta, Daegan returned Evalle’s smile. “’Tis good to see you back. You look well. Congratulations on completing your bond with Storm.”
“Thanks. I am not just well, but ready to kick ass.” She took in the troll, then the unconscious woman. “I’m sure there’s a good story behind all this. What is it?”
“Hey. Did you forget I’m ... ” The troll’s words died in his throat when Daegan squeezed out of reflex. Claws swung at his arms again. With a flip of his wrist, Daegan spun the troll in the air and caught it by the neck again. At least now that hideous face and sharp claws were turned away.