Pushing her glasses back into place, Evalle addressed Dame Lynn. “Alterants can enter for free, right?”
“Correct.”
“Would the host be willing to trade this Volonte to allow me to bring a guest in with me?”
Storm hadn’t considered that, and Evalle still had to get that damn bone off her arm.
“No.”
Storm buckled his temper only for Evalle’s benefit. “What about a healer?”
The Domjon allowed, “With a Volonte, she can bring in one healer.”
Storm asked, “What’s the specific ruling on using majik inside?”
“No one can aid his or her fighter during a match in any way. You can use majik only to heal a fighter between matches. Any infraction of the rules results in sanction, then ejection.”
That sanction part could be worse than death in a place like this.
The Domjon continued, “Additionally, the fighter is forfeited to the host, who can keep said fighter or trade it to the financial backer for this event, the Medb. However, a sponsor or healer can help someone else’s fighter as long as their own fighter is still alive and in a match.”
“Why would anyone help someone else’s fighter?” Evalle murmured.
Storm would never risk losing Evalle by using his majik where he’d be caught, and the rule should prevent others from helping a fighter that might eventually hurt their own entry, but his gut feeling was that no one in this place could be trusted. Not when one sponsor might cut a deal to help another sponsor if it was beneficial. Anything was possible in these battles.
Evalle asked, “When will the Medb representative face the truth test?”
Dame Lynn blinked up at Evalle. “That was an hour ago, and the Medb priestess passed the test. She stated the terms for negotiating trades with Medb representatives. Any Alterant surviving an Elite match will be offered the chance to become a warrior who can conquer death.”
Storm asked, “How are winners decided?”
“Alterants fight two matches against non-Alterants. If they survive, their third and final match is against another Alterant. A match ends either in death or relief, with the exception of an Elite round, where the Medb priestess can declare a winner and a loser if she chooses.”
“What do you mean by relief?” Evalle asked.
“The losing fighter begs to quit, and if the opponent agrees, the loser is handed over to the Medb with no trade for the sponsor.”
Evalle shifted her gaze to Storm, her eyes begging him again not to go inside with her.
He stated, “I’m her healer.” And he hoped like hell he wouldn’t be needed for that.
Dame Lynn told Evalle, “Give the Volonte to the other guard.”
Turning to the Spartan not holding a hologram of a head, Evalle told him, “You must tell me that you want this Volonte. Do you?”
“Yes, I want it,” he boomed and extended his arm.
Evalle lifted her arm and whispered the words Imogenia had used, then followed the same steps that ended with snapping the band on the guard’s arm.
Her entire body relaxed as if she’d been wrapped in barbed wire all this time and the binding had suddenly snapped. She let out a long breath of air, glad to be rid of that evil bone.
With that done, Dame Lynn issued final instructions. “Fighters can use whatever powers they possess and can bring one weapon of choice into the theater.”
Evalle hesitated.
Before Storm could tell her she couldn’t sneak anything past this group, the Domjon said, “If you keep the dagger, the blades in your boot soles won’t work in here. If you want the boot blades, then your dagger will disappear as soon as you enter.”
“I’ll keep the dagger.”
“What name do you fight under?”
When Evalle cut her eyes at him, Storm said, “Moonlight Warrior.”
“Welcome to the Achilles Beast Championship,” Dame Lynn said before her head vanished.
In a place that was very likely wall-to-wall witches in some form, he didn’t want her to use her real name even if somebody might recognize her face. He put his hand at her back, so damned glad that bone was gone.
Each guard reached for the center of the curtain and drew back his half, revealing lights blazing over a towering room that held a thousand if it held one.
Raucous voices pelted the air with excitement.
Storm indicated for her to enter ahead of him, giving her a two-step lead.
She missed a step and turned around, frowning. “Did you bump me?”
“No.” Storm sniffed the air, catching a smell similar to one he’d barely picked up around the troll’s potent stench. He knew that scent. One sniff would smell human, then the next would smell like some creature he couldn’t identify. Now wasn’t the time to discuss it, when he couldn’t think past the idea of Evalle fighting beasts. He nodded at her to keep moving.
With the armband off, she could shift into her beast form, but would she?
And if she didn’t, how was he going to keep her from being killed?
TWENTY-TWO
Lanna followed Evalle and Storm through the silver curtain and paused inside the noisy arena.
Her head throbbed from the strain of holding her cloaking in place and constantly camouflaging her scent. Her muscles ached from being in so many difficult positions while trying to be quiet, too. Riding in Evalle’s SUV had been simple, but shielding herself from view between the car and boat ride had taken much work.
Her cloaking would fail soon.
Lanna scurried through crowds moving around this place that smelled of many different beings. Where would be a good place to hide?
Storm had sniffed in Lanna’s direction when he and Evalle had come inside, scaring Lanna that she had been found out. She was sure the spell she used to mix Nicole and Feenix’s scents had been right. It should mask her scent from anyone but shifters.
She had not expected Storm to drop from the sky like an avenging angel. Angry angel. He knew her scent and had startled her when he’d noticed her presence as she’d snuck onto the boat.
Her heart had tried to climb out of her chest.
Squeezing between people, Lanna pushed through to keep up with Storm and Evalle. Looked like a small city in here. Tents scattered around. People sat in seats built like stairs. The crowd moved around two large fight rings with sparkling lights like invisible domes made of flickering stars.
How could Storm let Evalle fight in this place?
Lanna had already seen two mages and enough witches to fill several covens. These witches practiced dark arts, not like Nicole, whose aura shined with light.
Nicole would discover that Lanna had escaped once she checked the bed in her guest room. Maybe even by now. Lanna had left the covers pulled over a body shape that lifted and fell like normal breathing. To have stayed would have put Evalle’s friend and Feenix at risk.
Evalle had been careful on the drive to Nicole’s, watching for threats, but Lanna feared the wizard would find her even if she did not make another powerful draw on the elements. Doing that was like sending up a signal flare.
Grendal was in Atlanta.
Lanna’s idea had been such a simple plan.
Leave with Evalle and hope Grendal would believe Lanna had left Atlanta for good, but who knew Evalle would drive almost seven hours? And where was this Cumberland Island place? Lanna had to stay with Evalle now to get back to Cousin Quinn.
Her hand started taking form.
She carefully pushed power down her arms to turn her hand invisible again, but her body trembled from the strain. She could only hold cloaking this long because she had been able to rest in the Expedition on the way here. She hid in a very small area at the rear of the SUV and did not have to cloak while Evalle drove.
Her fingertips showed again.
She shoved them in the pockets of her jeans. Stay calm. Getting upset would disturb her focus, and cloaking would fail for sure.
Evalle and Storm p
aused up ahead, observing something Lanna couldn’t see.
She looked everywhere for a place to hide. Not an easy trick, since this place was like an outdoor tournament. She smelled food vendors, then took another look at the stair-step seating. Could there be space beneath the tall seats?
Maybe. She had to get through the crowd without drawing attention.
Bumping the legs of humans startled them.
Bumping the legs of someone with power was much more dangerous.
Women wore fancy clothes, like those at Cousin Quinn’s hotel. Fighters had studded chokers, belts and leg restraints that all smelled of majik.
Much money passed hands at this event.
Something else dawned on her. She had seen no one her age. Pulling her hand out to check for cloaking, she moaned at the pink flesh coming into view.
The crowd parted in front of her, finally offering a fast path.
She looked up as a man ahead of her stopped and slowly turned, his face intent as though searching for someone. He was tall, several inches over six feet, and he had short, thick hair the color of a ripe lemon. The long black robe only made his skin look more sickly, but that wizard was not ill.
Evil had turned Grendal’s skin that color.
Lanna froze. Her mind screamed at her to run, but her knees became jelly as her cloaking gave way.
TWENTY-THREE
How much power does it take to hide this much area at one time?” Evalle muttered. “I thought Sen was the only one capable of this much, but I have a new appreciation for centaurs.”
Storm strolled casually alongside Evalle, but his gaze moved constantly, taking in everything. “This isn’t just a shield warding. One way in and one way out. This D’Alimonte has some help, maybe multiple wizards or mages, keeping the entire area secure, even against teleporting in or out without permission.”
Which meant Tristan wouldn’t be able to teleport out. She couldn’t decide if that was a plus or not. “This looks like an inflated tent, if tents came with hundred-foot ceilings. Has to be that high up there. I see two fighting arenas . . . theaters,” she corrected herself, calculating the stadium seating around the two battle areas to accommodate an easy thousand. “And that wide building connecting the theaters must be what? Locker rooms?”
“Individual waiting areas to keep the fighters separated and allow them a place to be healed out of view.”
Nothing had happened the way she’d intended, starting with Storm showing up. At least he wouldn’t be fighting, but how could she battle an Alterant if she didn’t shift into beast form?
Macha had allowed Evalle to make her own decisions, free of repercussion, as long as Evalle didn’t put Macha’s pantheon in conflict with VIPER and acted in the best interest of the Beladors.
Entering the ABC put Evalle clearly in conflict with VIPER, based on what Sen had said. But if Evalle was successful in preventing Alterants from signing on with the Medb and handed VIPER evidence of Noirre majik being traded, she had bargaining power with the Tribunal.
If Macha backed Evalle at that point. Big if.
Changing into her beast form would screw all that, since VIPER rules forbade Evalle’s changing into anything more than the Belador battle form. That amount of change strengthened a Belador’s body and amped up power, but nothing like the strength of her beast form. But it also took a toll on her energy, so she’d have to absolutely need it to use it. She might get away with fighting if she could win without shifting and walk out of here with Alterants who would testify that Noirre majik was traded, which she knew had to happen tonight.
But if she put Macha’s pantheon in conflict with VIPER, then Evalle couldn’t claim working in the Beladors’ best interest, now, could she?
Thanks for nothing, Macha.
“What’s wrong?” Storm asked, his gaze taking in everyone and everything, right down to the sunken level of the battle theater they passed. His mood hadn’t improved a bit since he’d shown up in the helicopter.
“Just thinking through my options.” She’d thought he’d settled down after kissing her, but that had been only a momentary break from the anger surging off of him.
Storm walked along, then made a sound of utter frustration. “That’s not a straight answer. Just like the text messages you sent me, stepping around the truth is lying, Evalle. What’s bothering you?”
She could cut through stone with the edge in his voice. “You.” When someone jostled her in passing, Storm’s glare slid from her to the clueless woman digging through her oversize purse.
Storm tilted his head to indicate they should move out of the flow of traffic circling the battle rings. Once they were far enough off to the side to provide some privacy, he resumed his cool reserve, crossing his arms as if his glare had failed to communicate his aggravation with her.
Her jaw muscles locked and unlocked. “Would you just get over that I left Atlanta without you? I couldn’t face putting you at this kind of risk again.”
“I’m not the one at risk. You are.”
“Comes with the territory of the job I do.”
His mouth tightened and his eyes turned almost black. “Not this. You’ll have to fight some unknown creatures, and if you win those matches, you still have to face another Alterant who will shift into beast form when you won’t. And if that isn’t enough . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck, all of a sudden looking . . . guilty?
“What, Storm?” When he didn’t answer her, Evalle echoed, “Lying by omission is still lying.”
“That damned witch doctor I’ve been hunting for. I’m concerned about her getting close to you.”
That last sentence gave her mental whiplash. “The licorice-smelling one?”
“Yes.” He washed a hand over his face and shook his head at a silent thought. His jaw muscles moved, then he faced her again. “She should be trying to kill me, but my gut tells me she could be a threat to you, and I don’t know why.”
Like that made her feel better? “What’s her interest in me?”
“I don’t know. I would have told you sooner, but I really thought I’d had that vision because she’d learned we were partners at VIPER and that she’d figured if she found you she’d find me. When you disappeared on me today, I—” He shook his head, and this time when he looked at her his eyes were haunted. “I thought she had you. She could have taken you somewhere I might not find you.”
That explained the core of his anger. Evalle had scared Storm. Nothing frightened this man.
To know that he cared that much for her struck so deep she experienced a moment of happiness that had never been in her life before him. She would not let the witch doctor harm Storm. “The minute I get out of here, we’re going after her.”
“And that’s exactly why I never told you much about her. I may have stumbled on her up on the mountain today, but now I think she can find me if she wants to, so you going after her would probably play into her plans, whatever they are.”
Evalle wanted to get her hands on that crazy witch, but that wouldn’t happen if she didn’t walk out of here alive. Taking a deep breath, determined to say this with conviction, she told him, “You have to leave. Now. You obviously have resources. Get out of here.”
Storm lifted his hand to her face, but didn’t touch her when his glance around reminded her they had roles to play. He lowered his hand. “There’s nothing you can say to convince me to leave you.”
And that was why she wanted a chance to be with him.
He moved with the grace of a dangerous jungle cat, put Adonis to shame with his warrior body and wore honor with the same ease other men wore their favorite jeans. But he had come for her every time she’d been sure she had no one to turn to, and he would stand by her against impossible odds.
Her palms were damp. She didn’t know what to say to a man who gave so much and asked for so little in return. “I . . . you . . .”
“I know,” he said gently, a warm smile tipping the corners of his lips. “Let’s just
get through this with you alive. I want to find a place to watch the matches where you can see me. I can’t use majik, but I can still coach you.”
Dame Lynn’s voice filled the room, projected from some invisible spot. “First round opponents Varkal and Ixxkter have entered the holding areas. Our first match starts in two minutes.”
A roar of cheers and boos went up, shaking the air.
Since Storm was more familiar with these venues than Evalle, she let him take the lead. They’d just moved through a clump of people when he took a step and leaned down, looking between bodies.
Evalle followed his moves and whispered, “What is it?”
Storm muttered a curse. “Lanna.”
“Not possible!”
He shot forward into an opening and Evalle followed as he swung in front of Lanna, who looked ghost white. “How’d you get in here?”
Lanna stared straight through him. Her voice trembled. “He’s here.”
Evalle turned to see what had terrified Lanna. She caught a glimpse of short yellow hair and sallow skin she’d seen at the Oakey Mountain Beast Club before the crowd had swallowed the creepy guy. Had he frightened Lanna? In spite of wanting to strangle the girl, Evalle leaned down in front of her. “Who’s here?”
“Grendal.”
Storm’s words floated down to them. “We need to move.”
Thankfully, the crowd was engulfing them now. Evalle told Lanna, “Cloak yourself and follow us.”
Lanna’s glazed look finally cleared. “Not possible yet. I must rest.”
Evalle stood up, asking Storm, “Can you do something?”
“Yes, but I need to limit using my powers, since I might need them to heal you.” He told Lanna, “We’re going to go over to the stands and find a place to put you. Walk between me and Evalle. Don’t look at anyone or say anything.”
“I understand.”
At his nod, Evalle led the way through the crowd, sure that Storm kept Lanna sandwiched between them. To draw attention away from Lanna, Evalle lifted her hands from time to time, which did two things. Her sleeves caught the light, practically blinding some people, and others took a step away each time, suspicious of anyone with powers moving their hands around.
Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4) Page 20