Rogue Belador: Belador book 7

by Dianna Love

  Lionel told Quinn how to find his way to Veronika’s cell, adding, “Both sides of all the walkways will appear solid until you reach her. The corridor wall to her cell will vanish as you approach and reappear as soon as you walk away. A ward prevents her from exiting, but allows conversation. I’ll remain here unless you need me for anything.”

  “We’ll be fine on our own.” Stepping aside, Quinn waved a hand. “After you, Adrianna.”

  Once they were inside, the gate closed behind Quinn. He prepared himself to meet the witch who had shifted herself into Kizira’s image the last time they’d met. But she would not get to him this time.

  If not for Adrianna being on the VIPER team, and now a friend of Evalle’s, plus Tzader needing his help, Quinn wouldn’t consider spending a minute in any witch’s company ever again.

  He took the lead again as they navigated the endless corridors lit by a stingy strip of light glowing along the ceiling above them.

  At one point, Adrianna flinched and stopped, looking to her left.

  What had she sensed? “Adrianna?”

  She shook it off and said, “Sorry. It’s just that I’m constantly experiencing different things since taking on Witchlock.”

  “Did you feel something even through that stone barrier?”

  “Yes. Whatever is on the other side is ... disturbing.”

  Quinn didn’t know if he should be impressed or terrified at her ability to breach Sen’s security shields. Sen would definitely not be impressed. Once they were out of here, Quinn would warn Adrianna to be careful allowing anyone else to realize she could do that. He continued to the third turn and, as he rounded the corner, a wall twenty feet ahead on his left began to disintegrate.

  That bastard Sen had better have the mother of all wards on Veronika’s enclosure.

  A wicked laugh started, building in volume as they approached.

  Quinn slowed, then picked a spot in the center of the viewing area. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but not this.

  Veronika’s long, dark hair had not taken well to prison life. Limp black locks fell past her shoulders, knotted with matted clumps. Her hands and feet were encased in stone gloves and shoes, all four limbs shackled to the wall behind her with fifteen feet of chain. A sink and commode had been tucked into the corner.

  Her red robe hung on her, tattered and dirty, much like the skin clinging to her emaciated body.

  The only part that had changed not one bit was the cruel gaze.

  She sat on the ground, hunched and broken.

  Adrianna’s lips quirked.

  Quinn had no sympathy for this woman, but neither did he find the situation humorous.

  Evidently, Adrianna did. “How sad, Veronika,” she said, sounding anything but sympathetic.

  The wretched prisoner grunted. “What do you want?”

  “I had hoped to offer you a chance to gain some relief while here, but clearly all you need is a bath. If Sen is alerted to your poor hygiene, he’ll bathe you himself. I doubt you’ll enjoy that, but maybe he’s more fun than he appears.”

  Quinn wanted to caution Adrianna to curtail the taunting, but she’d asked to do the talking once they faced Veronika.

  Veronika scowled and rose to her feet without even struggling. The chains fell away. A red cloud whirled around her, then the pristine robe returned. Her skin no longer sagged. A vicious beauty stood proudly before them, just as she’d been when she’d plotted to rule the world.

  Except for the stone gloves.

  The witch had been manipulating her audience even before Quinn and Adrianna laid eyes on her. She’d been setting the scene to gain sympathy. Such a fool to believe Quinn would drag up that emotion for this malicious bitch. Adrianna had not only seen through it, but had known how to handle it.

  She impressed Quinn more by the minute.

  Adrianna arched an eyebrow in amusement. She was the picture of calm, standing with her hands behind her back and her usual stoic composure. She watched with nothing more than mild interest showing on her face as Veronika finished her machinations.

  So at ease. He envied her that poise in the face of his nemesis.

  Or so it seemed, until Quinn’s gaze slid down to where he caught sight of Adrianna’s white-knuckled grip hidden behind her.

  Maintaining his own blank mask, he focused his attention on the drama queen now standing in the center of her stage.

  Veronika floated around. Now that she had an audience, she appeared ready to show off. “I know why you’re here. You need my help to figure out Witchlock.”

  The comment had been directed at Adrianna, who said, “It must be crowded in there, living with an ego the size of an elephant.”

  Swirling to face them, Veronika twisted her face into a snarl. “You should take care how you speak to me. I will not be in here long.”

  “Oh?” Adrianna chuckled lightly.

  Veronika said, “There is always someone who craves access to a power such as mine.”

  Releasing a soft sigh, Adrianna acknowledged, “Maybe, but Witchlock trumps anything you have.”

  Quinn held his breath, wondering if Adrianna’s plan was to infuriate Veronika to the point that she tried to break the ward.

  But Veronika surprised him by smiling. “You can’t fool me. I spent years studying Witchlock. I know what it demands of you. I was ready to accept it and willing to bind myself to it, but you? You never wanted it. I heard your sister’s thoughts while I milked her majik. She wanted to save you, and you wanted to save her. But she was gone, already turned into a power vapor. You both lost. And now ... you need me.”

  The silence stretched, thin and taut.

  Veronika had found a sore spot, and kept digging at it.

  With the two women focused on each other, Quinn spared Adrianna a quick look and found her hands had unclasped. She used one hand to hold the palm of her other one open behind her back.

  A white sphere of power, the size of a marble, spun above it.

  Adrianna had been inside VIPER enough times to know the rules. Specifically, no use of majik under any circumstances.

  Still, Quinn whispered, “You’re not going to use majik in here, are you?”

  She never took her eyes off of Veronika, but spoke so softly he could barely hear. “Technically, what I intend to use is not majik. Witchlock is a power just like your kinetics, but when joined with a witch like me, who wields majik, it becomes something greater. I know Sen doesn’t allow use of power in here either, but I allowed a small amount of the Witchlock power to escape as we walked down the halls. It didn’t seem to affect the energy skating over the rock surface. That makes me think Witchlock might be older than Sen, which wouldn’t surprise me. If this goes as I plan, Sen will either not be alerted, or I’ll simply blame Veronika if he shows up and claims his rules were broken.”

  Quinn took in the walls, where energy still rode calmly along the surface. Nothing had changed there yet.

  What Adrianna said made sense, but only when dealing with a reasonable person, a description Quinn would never assign to Sen. If Sen caught her using Witchlock here—power or majik—he still had autonomy to execute both Adrianna and Quinn and claim it was within his authority to do so.

  Adrianna addressed Veronika again, sounding bored with the whole conversation. “We’ll be out of time soon, so if you’d rather spend every minute pretending the world is your oyster, we have no reason to continue this conversation.”

  For the first time, Veronika’s chilling, blue-eyed gaze switched to Quinn. “What is it you want?”

  ”He’s only here as my guide. I’m the one with the questions.”

  Veronika held his gaze another ten seconds before crossing her arms and switching back to Adrianna. “Very well. What?”

  “What do you know about white witches being captured? Did you contract with anyone to kidnap members of the council?”

  “What if I did?”

  Quinn wondered where Adrianna was going with this line of q
uestioning. He thought she was here to gain knowledge of the dragon.

  Adrianna lifted a shoulder. “If you had any part in the crime, you can plan on sharing more than a bath with Sen.”

  Veronika’s smile slipped. “I find your humor crude.”

  “Be that as it may, I’ll inform the Tribunal of anything you tell me that aids in our investigation ... or anything that hinders us.”

  Dark vapors smoked away from a hissing Veronika. “Do you really think you can come in here and threaten me?” she shouted.

  Chuckling, Adrianna said, “Remember? I have Witchlock. You have nothing.”

  What had happened to the reserved Adrianna who maintained calm control at all times? Who was this braggart who had taken her place? Quinn could do nothing but support her at this point and hope she really did have a plan.

  Veronika’s hair shot out wide like a dark sunburst, then whipped around her as it fell again. She shook, but not from fear. That was raw fury bubbling, and Quinn had concerns about what would happen when she boiled over.

  Taking a step toward the ward-protected opening, Adrianna said, “I am the more powerful. I can make you kneel to me.”

  Veronika screamed and lunged at the opening, stopping short of being fried alive.

  Quinn moved toward Adrianna, but she whipped her open palm in front of her and held it up, shoulder high.

  The sphere blossomed to the size of a baseball. Tendrils of white vapors flipped away as it spun. The energy that raced over Quinn’s skin was only a tiny amount of what he’d felt the day of the battle between these two, but even at that it was extraordinary. As powerful as he was, this was far denser and stronger. Hers was a fifty-foot tidal wave she held back from crashing down on everyone, where his now felt like a gentle surf rolling up on the beach in comparison.

  Frightening, because his was no gentle wave of power.

  Veronika froze, staring at the sphere.

  Adrianna kept her eyes on her adversary until Veronika jerked her head up, eyes wild, and started backing away, rising higher off the floor. She grabbed her head, shaking it from side to side. “No. Get out. Get out of my head!”

  Energy along the walls hissed and sizzled like grease splattering on a hot skillet.

  Adrianna’s face never changed from intense concentration for a long thirty seconds, then she snapped her hand shut, and the orb disappeared.

  Veronika hit the floor as if she’d turned to lead.

  She moaned, and tears of blood dripped from her eyes. When she looked up, an insane beast stared at Adrianna. “You will regret that. I will do far worse than kill you.”

  Stoic once again, Adrianna said, “I hope you have the opportunity. That would mean you’ve escaped, and nothing would stand between us. Come for me. I will not spare you a second time.”

  Bloody hell. Quinn took one deep breath in, then out, and murmured, “Are you done?”

  Adrianna said, “Yes.” She turned to leave.

  Quinn felt his gaze dragged back to Veronika, who now saw only him. She swept forward, close to the invisible barrier. “I know your secret. You told Kizira you had not found her. You told me about Phoedra, and that secret will buy my way out of here. When it does, I’ll find her first.”

  His body stopped moving or breathing, paralyzed by her words. He tried to move just a finger and couldn’t.

  Adrianna stepped between them and lifted her palm, fingers folding in to close. “Would you like a second taste of Witchlock, Veronika?”

  In a flash, Veronika turned away and Quinn was free to breathe again. He backed away and stepped past the cell. Adrianna followed and the stone reformed across the open space.

  When she reached his side, Adrianna asked, “Are you okay?”

  He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Bloody witch. I’ll be fine, but she can never leave that cell. At least not until I find my daughter.” He glanced over at Adrianna.

  “I’m not going to help her escape, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “I wasn’t thinking that, but I’m glad to know it.”

  Lanna had warned him that Kizira’s dead body could give up secrets, that he was making a huge mistake to leave her in that tomb. But how could he destroy Kizira’s body before their daughter had a chance to mourn her mother?

  Knowing the way Kizira thought, and how much she’d hated the life she’d been born into, Quinn was certain she would have hidden their child somewhere safe and away from the supernatural world.

  He shook off the cold chills. With a potential war now on the horizon, he was glad that no one knew where Phoedra was.

  ~*~

  The next guard showed up right on time. A Belador who looked at Lionel and said, “How are the inmates?”

  “Quiet. Nothing to report.”

  “Okay, you’re free to leave. Have a cold brew for me.”

  Lionel laughed and shook his head, walking away. He met two more VIPER agents on the way out of the mountain who stopped him to chat, but he broke away by explaining he was in a rush to pick up a birthday gift.

  Once he located the pickup truck he’d been using, he drove fifteen miles down the road back toward Atlanta. When he hit the right exit, he pulled off and parked behind an empty strip center where he’d arranged to have his beige sedan delivered.

  Stepping out of the truck, he stood still and allowed the change to come over him, switching the Belador’s clothes, face, and body for his usual attire as Emilio, the warrior mage from Italy.

  He would now give his aid in locating the dead Belador who had donated his truck, clothes, and guard shift.

  Chapter 25

  Evalle followed Storm through the unfinished lobby to the conference room of their building.

  A disgruntled Tristan trudged along behind her. He popped off, “You do realize that dragging me here against my will constitutes kidnapping.”

  Storm paused at the doorway to the conference room, shoulders tensing. He would turn around, and Evalle would have to separate the two men again.

  Evalle said, “We’ll be there in a minute, Storm.”

  His head moved, acknowledging her words, before he continued into the room.

  She turned on Tristan. “What is your problem?”

  “Do we have time to list them all, Dr. Phil?”

  “Could you dial back the wiseass enough for us to have a serious conversation?”

  He circled the space, muttering to himself, and came back to stand in front of her with his arms crossed. The frigid weather falling across Atlanta hadn’t seemed to affect Tristan at all. They’d found him walking along Peachtree Street two blocks from the Fox Theater.

  Actually, after a lot of time spent searching the old-fashioned way, since Evalle had to stay within the warded truck to avoid exposure to the sun, Storm had finally gotten out and tracked Tristan by scent.

  Bad enough that Tristan had been on the move all day, but Storm was even less happy that Tristan had put Evalle through hell by pretending to be gone when he failed to reply to her telepathic calls.

  She put her hands on her hips and leaned in, keeping her voice down. “What’s it going to take to get your head out of your ass long enough to hear what’s going on?”

  “I don’t care what’s going on. Whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into isn’t my problem. I tried to tell you that before your tomcat got his back up and dumped demon majik on me.”

  A chair in the conference room scraped.

  She got the message. Storm was letting her know he’d heard Tristan, and that the Alterant was dangerously close to getting his mouth permanently shut.

  “Storm did that to get you into our truck,” she shoved back at him. “A reasonable person wouldn’t have made that so difficult.”

  Tristan dropped his chin low and chewed each word as it came out. “There is nothing reasonable about any of this.”

  “Dammit, Tristan. Don’t you want to get your sister and friends out of Treoir? Don’t you want all the gryphons out of Treoir?”
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  “Is that a trick question?” He sounded wary.

  Don’t strangle our only option for teleporting. Evalle said, “No, it’s me trying to get you to listen. I need your help. If you help us, once we’re done I’ll link with you to teleport gryphons back here until they’re all out.”

  For the first time since she’d forced him into the truck to come here, Tristan quieted, and his face shifted as he considered her words. “Why would you do that? The minute Macha realizes what happened, she’ll come after both of us.”

  “Yep. If I finally have your attention, I’ll tell you what’s going on.” Evalle gave him the bullet point version, which included sharing concerns over Macha. She concluded, “I’ve come to realize a lot of things. One is that the minute Macha gets me inside Treoir, she’ll never let me leave. This isn’t about my not coming home, or I’d just take my chances since Storm feels confident he can hide both of us from VIPER and Macha. This is about me taking a stand for all of us. If she’s willing to lock me away, then she cares nothing about any relationship with VIPER or my being a liaison for the gryphons. We’ll become her captives. I would never have left any of you there if I’d thought this would happen.”

  He chewed on the edge of his thumb, pondering away.

  She gave him one more thing to think about, but had to say it in a way that preserved his secret. “The dragon I told you about believes war is coming no matter what we do. He’ll support our side if we help him escape. Adrianna has seen this war in her dreams, and said if it does come to pass, humans will be involved. We’ll watch over those humans tied to our Belador clan first.”

  He dropped his arms and swallowed, finally getting her message. The woman he cared for would be at risk.

  Evalle didn’t want to talk to him telepathically. If he was going to be on this team, he had to speak so that all could hear, including Storm. She needed this conversation to show Storm that Tristan was committed.

  She asked, “Do you understand what I’m saying, Tristan?”

  “Yes.” Taking his time, he said, “We may not get all the gryphons out. I want a guarantee that if you and I get stuck there, my sister will be safe here.”