At the sound of a guttural growl, she turned her attention to the current fight. The troll circled orange lizard guy, whose two sets of arms dangled. Lizard guy snapped wide jaws at the troll, who jumped back and forth, dodging until the wide lizard jaws spewed a dark cloud of air that stank like a sulfuric gas.
Evalle covered her mouth and nose with her hand when the smell drifted outside the ring.
While the troll coughed and flayed his arms to break up the nasty cloud, lizard guy swatted his tail, knocking the troll’s feet out from under him. He landed facedown. The lizard guy used his four arms to fold the troll in half—backward—with a loud crack that had to be the troll’s backbone.
The Domjon called out, “Trolls out by a backward fart, demons still winnin’ and lookin’ sharp. Duals up next to give it a go. Let’s hope they shift and make it show.”
Evalle met Storm’s gaze and saw nothing but ruthless determination in his eyes as he started shedding clothes. His leather jacket landed on the ground first, then he yanked off his shirt, boots and socks.
She’d never seen him shift with clothes on, but she had no doubt he could rip out of his jeans.
Imogenia hovered too close for Evalle to say anything to Storm besides, “Don’t disappoint me.”
Understanding lit his eyes. He caught her meaning that he’d better walk out of there alive. Giving her a curt nod, he stepped into the circle, then crossed to the other side and turned, waiting on his opponent.
Evalle watched with everyone else as Imogenia unclipped the collar around her fighter’s neck.
Fear shanked off the little guy so strongly Evalle could practically smell it. She felt sick over what was going to happen and glanced at Storm, who had his arms crossed, face empty of any emotion.
When Evalle turned back, Imogenia pulled her fighter around to face her and the crowd, his back to Evalle and the fight ring. “Ready for a new challenge, beaniepole?”
“No.” The word whispered through the black cloth that trembled.
“Don’t be shy. We both know what you’re capable of.” Imogenia lifted off his hood.
Gasps ricocheted through the air.
From where Evalle stood, all she could see was a partial side view of his scruffy red beard. He had short curly hair the same color, but without seeing any more she’d guess he was no older than twenty-three or four. Close to her age.
Just a young man. Could this get any worse?
Imogenia told him, “Showtime, beaniepole. Where’s your spirit?”
“My name’s Bernie.” His fingers curled into fists, but tremors still wracked his body.
“Beaniepole fits you so well,” Imogenia whispered softly as she leaned in, but Evalle heard her. “Get into that ring and don’t kill him until I tell you to, or I’ll have to visit your girlfriend. Tonight.”
“No. Stay away from her.” Bernie’s hoarse words shook with anger and fear.
“Then get moving. I’ve stayed here longer than I planned already.”
When he turned to enter the ring, Evalle finally got a good look at his face.
Glowing green eyes.
An Alterant.
She whipped around to face Storm, whose eyes took in Bernie, then narrowed. Storm’s gaze shifted to her long enough to send a warning glare she understood. Don’t interfere.
Storm had fought demon trolls, warlocks and probably many other things she couldn’t name, but he’d never gone up against an Alterant. At least not that she knew of, since she was the first one he’d ever met. Based on what little information she’d gathered on other Alterants besides her, they tended to have a power or unique ability of their own.
What about Bernie?
Evalle suffered a deadly reaction to the sun, but she hadn’t met another Alterant with that same issue. Did Bernie even have a weakness?
Imogenia cackled with delight. The bitch had disguised the Alterant. Evalle doubted she even needed the chain and collar, not with the threat of the boy’s girlfriend hanging over him.
Storm unfolded his arms and stepped forward, body ready for attack. Muscles rippled up his arms and across his shoulders when he fisted his hands and arched his back, growling.
Bernie just stood on this side of the ring, shaking.
Imogenia unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, revealing a bony body. When snorts and chuckles erupted from the crowd, Imogenia rose up on her toes and hissed, “Need I remind you what happened in Tennessee?”
The young man’s body went taut as a bowstring.
He jerked his head to the side, looking over his shoulder at her with murder in his eyes, then roared and turned back to Storm.
Bernie’s jaws widened, teeth lengthening into fangs as his jaws expanded and his head grew larger. Cartilage popped and bones snapped in his arms and legs that extended and thickened. His feet grew as long as Evalle’s forearm, with four toes each. Bright red hair on his arms and legs lengthened. Clothes shredded and fell away as his body grew ten feet tall with black veins popping along his back and chest.
He raised four-fingered hands, fisted them and bellowed again.
Would Zymon’s monster have been a better choice?
Storm slid his jeans off and tossed them to the side, not the least bit insecure about being naked.
Evalle ignored the female murmurs of appreciation. Hard to blame them. She’d ogle him, too, if not for being more concerned over his keeping that amazing body in one piece.
Storm’s human form immediately shimmered as he shifted into a massive jaguar much larger than a natural one, all in a matter of seconds. Gleaming black fur blanketed the two-hundred-and-fifty-pound predator. His head lifted as high as Evalle’s shoulder. He roared at the Alterant Bernie, the sound echoing through the valley.
Bright jaguar-yellow eyes glared death at Bernie, who could rip Storm in half.
Evalle had to stop this, but to do so would pit her and Storm against this crowd. Calling in VIPER would put Storm at just as great a risk with Sen gunning for him.
But she would not let him die in that ring.
The giant mass of hair, muscle and fangs that Bernie had shifted into plodded forward and made a swipe at Storm’s animal form, but Storm had the reflexes of a preternatural cat. He raced around the Alterant, slashing a claw across the back of the giant’s thigh, drawing first blood.
Evalle cheered silently in her head, forcing herself to maintain a composed demeanor. She cut her eyes at Imogenia, who watched, transfixed by the scene.
Just as Evalle looked back, the Alterant stomped back and forth, causing the ground to vibrate beneath her feet.
Storm stalked one way then the other, taking a swipe here and there, not cutting Bernie deeply enough to do real harm, but blood flowed freely. The big jaguar raced around and around Bernie, causing the Alterant to turn in circles.
Evalle realized Storm was trying to wear Bernie down, catch him off balance and maybe tackle him.
Bernie’s frustration erupted in a screaming howl. His arms twisted in their sockets. They were . . . double-jointed ? Bernie slashed across Storm’s back as he came around Bernie.
Blood streamed down the jaguar’s hindquarters.
Evalle felt the blow to her center.
Storm’s jaguar swung around, facing the Alterant. He roared a vicious sound that would bring the dead back to life.
Imogenia yelled, “Acath-amee,” at Bernie.
What could that mean? Evalle hadn’t felt any power or majik cast with the word. Imogenia had said it the way a dog trainer used a foreign word to train an attack dog. A term the animal wouldn’t normally hear from someone else.
Bernie stopped moving around and extended one arm, hand turned up. He made a scooping motion.
As if snatched off the ground, Storm’s jaguar form flipped up in the air and rolled backward, landing hard from the kinetic hit.
Now Evalle understood. Bernie’s weakness was lack of aggression. The witch was using the commands to force him to fight.
Swinging his big head around to look at Imogenia, who smiled and gave Bernie thumbs-up, the Alterant went back to work on Storm. Bernie pointed a finger at the inert jaguar body and used kinetics again to toss Storm fifteen feet in the air for another backflip before dropping him to the ground.
The third time Bernie used the same tactic, Storm rolled in the air to land on all four paws, but took a sideways step and shook his head, dazed.
Evalle’s heart hammered.
Her Alterant beast wanted out to fight. Muscles rippled along her arms, threatening to expand and strengthen. She shoved her hands in her jeans pockets to keep from throwing a kinetic blast at the Alterant to knock him on his ass, then focused her attention on not shifting. Unlike Bernie, she couldn’t shift into beast form without consent from Macha or Brina. And if she used kinetics to interfere, everyone in this place would know she and Storm were not really sponsor and fighter.
Bernie pounded his feet back and forth, like a kid waiting to play tag football.
Storm wobbled left then right and stood very still, his head hanging low to the ground as if he’d forgotten where he was. Bernie took one step then another, creeping over to Storm with his head angled in a thoughtful way.
Evalle knew of only one other Alterant besides herself who could control his beast state. Tristan. Bernie acted based on fear and anger. Now he studied Storm with curiosity. Did he retain enough humanity that he regretted slamming Storm around like a rag doll?
Imogenia said to Evalle, “Give me your fighter and I’ll spare him.”
Storm had warned her deals were binding here, but even if they weren’t, this witch was crazy if she thought she could have Storm. “Want to make me the same offer?”
Imogenia hissed in reply. “Fool.”
Everyone around the ring quieted, leaning in, watching to see what Bernie would do.
Imogenia didn’t appear bothered by Bernie’s passivity. Why? Then it hit Evalle.
Because Bernie wasn’t really passive. Not in his beast state. He just needed prompting.
When he shifted into an Alterant, Evalle figured out too late that this was all part of Bernie’s act.
Imogenia bared her teeth and shouted, “Now! ”
FOUR
Bernie lunged at Storm. A towering mass of beast that could crush a jaguar.
Evalle only saw a dark blur, Storm moved so fast.
Where his jaguar had been standing still as death, he leaped away just before Bernie the Alterant slammed to the ground facedown with the force of a building being knocked over.
The jaguar snarled a roar and pounced on Bernie’s back. Huge jaws clamped around the Alterant’s neck. Bernie jerked twice, then didn’t move.
Cheers went up in the crowd.
Imogenia screeched, “Noooo! ”
Evalle locked her legs to prevent her knees from buckling with relief. Storm had intentionally lured the Alterant in, using Bernie’s size and clumsy movements against him.
The Domjon howled with happiness. “Dual on the mountain for a prime-time show. Shifter one, Alterant zeeeroooooo. That’s a guaranteed pass to the big night.”
Evalle wanted to ask the Domjon what “big night” he referred to, but that would throw up one of those red flags of suspicion Storm had warned her about. She’d learned enough about Beast Clubs for one night and just wanted to get Storm out of here before he had to fight Zymon’s behemoth creature.
But she still had to deal with Imogenia.
The witch lashed out at Evalle. “You killed my Alterant, you bitch. You’ll pay for this.”
Talk about screwing up a mission to gain intel.
Nothing to lose now by tossing the witch’s words back at her. Evalle said, “Shouldn’t have brought your second string. Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a first string.”
Imogenia vibrated with fury. She wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to keep from going for Evalle’s throat.
Bring it, witch.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” the Domjon cooed in their direction. “No loss yet. The shifter waits for his sponsor to call thumbs-up or thumbs-down. Either way, it ends the round.”
Imogenia snapped back to face the ring. “He’s alive?”
The crowd started chanting, “Death, death, death! ”
Was this what it had been like back during the days of lions in a coliseum?
Had Storm used his majik to put the Alterant into a semi-comatose state? Was that allowed? From where he stood with his jaws on Bernie’s neck, all Storm would have to do was rip apart the Alterant’s neck muscles and the head would fall loose.
But an alive Bernie just changed the game with Imogenia.
Evalle asked the witch, “You willing to deal to keep your fighter?”
Imogenia focused on Evalle, finally giving her the respect she should have from the start. The witch visibly fought to pull her emotions under control. What, exactly, had Imogenia so jumpy and on edge?
Imogenia stepped close to Evalle, even though the crowd noise covered their conversation. “What do you want?”
“Information.”
That drew a hard line across Imogenia’s pert lips. “Too vague.”
Time to gamble. “I’ll make this more than fair. I’ll give you back your Alterant if you answer all my questions truthfully about TÅμr Medb, the Medb Coven and Tristan. If not, I leave with both fighters.”
Imogenia’s eyes narrowed behind the mask. “What makes you think I know anything about those?”
“I don’t think. I know you do.”
Comprehension flooded Imogenia’s angry gaze. “That’s why you came tonight.”
Not a question, but Evalle answered, “Part of the reason. Make a decision. I have another commitment tonight.”
“Deal.”
Evalle waited as Imogenia told the Domjon she’d reached an agreement to spare her fighter. The Domjon reminded Imogenia she would not be free to leave the fight zone until Evalle gave him thumbs-up that the deal was satisfied.
Evalle called over to Storm. “Let the Alterant live.”
The crowd booed, but from the looks of this crowd there’d be more blood spilled before long.
All was moving along nicely until Storm turned demon-yellow eyes to Evalle. She had a disconcerting moment as he hesitated to step off Bernie. Was Storm caught up in a moment of bloodlust? Would she have to walk out there to stop him?
Did a sponsor do that?
He finally jumped off the Alterant and walked over to his jeans, where he shifted back into human form on all fours.
Evalle’s lungs relaxed. Storm had just been putting on a show for the crowd.
Imogenia called out to Bernie, but she spoke in a language Evalle couldn’t identify. After several moments of sluggish movements, the Alterant shifted back into his body, panting by the time he was done. He pushed to his feet, but with no clothes to put on he huddled into himself as he crossed the open ground to Imogenia.
She tilted her head at a spot behind her near the outer perimeter of the event area and ordered Bernie, “Wait for me by that tree.”
Once Storm had his jeans on, he swaggered back across the ring to Evalle.
He deserved to swagger after that win.
When he stepped out of the ring and turned to lift his shirt, Evalle gritted her teeth at the blood leaking from slashed skin on his back. Storm had some majik and preternatural ability that allowed him to heal faster than a human, but she hated seeing him hurt.
Imogenia watched Evalle’s every move, so Evalle made a show of passing a clinical assessment over his body before she gave a dismissive shrug and turned her attention back to Imogenia. “Let’s find a secure place to talk.”
Leading the way, Imogenia picked a spot beneath several towering pine trees and gave Storm a pointed look when she asked, “What about your fighter?”
Dressed again, Storm took up his place next to Evalle and crossed his arms, a silent sentry. Evalle said, “He stays.”
>
“Very well.” Imogenia lifted her arms, whispering as she turned in a circle. When she stopped, she said, “I’ve used a spell to guard the others from observing us or hearing our words.”
Evalle turned to the witch. “What do you know about Tristan?”
“He’s an Alterant working for the Medb.”
So the Medb were feeding that lie into the rumor mills, huh? Evalle shook her head and scoffed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Imogenia toyed with a silvery-white strand of hair. “He’s building an Alterant team of fighters.”
Could that be true? “Alterants are harder to find than a trustworthy deity.”
“Tell me about it. Why are you looking for Tristan?”
Evalle could have shut down the witch by refusing to answer, but it was better to give her the information Evalle wanted repeated instead of leaving her to speculate. “I’m going to be generous and answer your question in spite of owning both fighters right now.”
Tension stiffened Imogenia’s posture, but she kept her tongue still, waiting on Evalle’s answer.
“Tristan left in a hurry the last time I saw him, slipped away before he paid a debt I intend to collect.” Evalle cast a look over Bernie’s dejected form. “Where’d you find your Alterant?”
“Not far from here, but I don’t have to tell you where, since that wasn’t part of the deal.”
“In that case, let’s get back to what I want. Is there a way into TÅμr Medb undetected?”
Imogenia snickered. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Looks like we’re done then.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t, I said I couldn’t.”
Evalle turned to Storm. “Is she telling the truth?”
He gave it a second, then nodded.
Imogenia leaned forward, staring at Storm. “You want me to believe he can detect a lie?”
“Believe what you want, but lie to me one time and I’m walking away with your Alterant.” Evalle regretted having to leave Bernie with Imogenia, but Storm had taken this risk to get information she needed. She wouldn’t waste it. She’d search for Bernie later, once she got Tristan back.
Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4) Page 4