That startled Kizira, drawing her gaze back. “Yes, but involuntarily. I withdrew the information from him while he was incoherent. You want to know if he’s still your friend. He’s done nothing to betray you. Anything you’ve heard, especially the day Tristan took you to the house in the country, is a twisted tale to turn you against him.”
Evalle believed Kizira. The weight lifted a little, allowing her heart to thump with peace again. And, if what Kizira said was true, Tristan had been tricked as well. He’d taken Evalle to meet an old Belador so pitiful he’d needed an oxygen tank to breathe.
Had that old guy been the traitor instead of Conlan O’Meary, who was still on the run? “Speaking of that day with Tristan, where’s the old Belador who told me those twisted tales?”
“He was not an old man but Conlan O’Meary wearing a glamour.”
“So Conlan is the Belador traitor after all.”
Kizira shook her head. “No. When he offered to join up with us, we suspected a trick.”
“You didn’t help him escape the prison beneath VIPER’s southeastern headquarters?”
“Why would we risk our people when we didn’t need him?”
Well, duh. “If Conlan’s not the traitor, then who is?”
“That I can’t tell you.”
Evalle wondered, “Do you think Qu- . . . our mutual friend helped Conlan escape?”
Kizira bared her teeth. “How can you think that? He is too honorable to do such a thing. What kind of friend are you?”
Maybe not a good one if a Medb had to stand up for Quinn. Evalle held up her hand. “I didn’t say I believed he did. Where’s Conlan?”
“When he failed to prove his loyalty to Flaevynn, she threw him in the dungeon. Cathbad claims you are significant in Flaevynn’s plans, but trust me when I say that can change and you’ll end up in the dungeon if you don’t prove to her you can be trusted to execute the attack.”
“Aren’t you concerned about the Beladors stopping the gryphons?”
“No, and if you’re digging for a weakness, save your breath. Nothing can prevent the gryphons from succeeding. Once they leave here as a unit, they’ll follow my every command. All of you will.”
What happened to us being allies? “I thought—”
“Don’t misunderstand me, Evalle. The attack will happen, and not just because I have no choice in the matter. I need it to succeed. It’s up to you to protect those you love, just as it is up to me to do the same.”
That killed the tiny warm and fuzzy feeling Evalle had been suffering. But changing her tune now would alert Kizira that Evalle had made a mistake in seeing Kizira as an ally. “I want my four hours to start in Atlanta, but I need a few minutes in my room, alone, before I leave.”
“No, you don’t. Lanna is content to practice her teleporting.”
“Just send her back with me.”
“No. I’d be a fool to let you walk out of here with nothing to lose. Lanna is insurance that you will steal the Triquetra, deliver the message and return in four hours. I’ll give you two minutes with Lanna, then it’s up to you to convince Flaevynn you are under my control.” Kizira lifted her hands.
THIRTY-SIX
Evalle deserved an Academy Award for acting subservient in front of Flaevynn to prove that Kizira’s compulsion spell had Evalle under control. The minute the queen agreed to the trust test, Kizira teleported Evalle to the mortal world.
When the spinning ended, Quinn’s luxurious hotel suite in downtown Atlanta came into focus. Evalle didn’t fall down or throw up. Maybe teleporting was like being seasick. If you did it often enough, you got used to the vertigo.
She glanced over to catch Kizira looking longingly at Quinn’s bedroom. “You know Macha will toast him if she ever finds out about you two.”
Kizira stiffened and turned around. “Your four hours are ticking.”
Good point. With one tiny window of time, Evalle was not wasting it here. “His Triquetra’s not on the door. Guess he only needs it to keep out uninvited Medb.”
“He hides it on top of the cabinet next to the door, something only someone close to him would know,” Kizira tossed right back with smug arrogance.
Crossing the room, Evalle reached up and felt a piece of flat metal that sizzled with energy. She was almost disappointed that Kizira had been right.
Evalle couldn’t pick it up, just as Lanna had explained, until she said a Gaelic phrase. Then the flat blade came to her hand. “Good thing we checked with Lanna,” Evalle pointed out, reminding Kizira she hadn’t known everything.
She pulled the triangular-shaped Belador throwing blade down and reached again to find the leather case for carrying it sitting on top of the cabinet. Tucking the blade in the case and both in her jacket pocket, Evalle turned to Kizira. “Where do you want to meet?”
“When it’s time, I’ll find you wherever you are, now that you’re bonded to me.”
Right now Evalle had to find Storm, and she needed Kizira’s help if she wanted to get rolling.
Heat warming her chest drew her eyes down to where the emerald glowed. The gem hadn’t changed at all in Medb Land.
Would Storm know she was back?
All she wanted was to finish here and go to him.
She wouldn’t have this opportunity if not for Kizira.
It galled her to thank the priestess for anything, but Kizira had given Evalle a new set of clothes and her custom sunglasses even though the light didn’t bother her now. Evalle hadn’t shared that new ability with anyone yet, which was why Kizira had brought her here while it was still dark out.
Monday night. Would the invasion happen tomorrow?
That was the impression Evalle had gotten from Kizira’s short word game.
Evalle felt every second tick against her. “I appreciate the clothes. Think you could conjure me up a motorcycle downstairs?”
“Teleporting would be more efficient.”
For Storm, Evalle would teleport across the world. “I like the way you’re thinking.”
“Remember, Evalle, that being compelled is not a joke. You might harm someone you’re with just as much as yourself.”
She’d gotten that part loud and clear when Flaevynn had said one misspoken word would take the life of those Evalle loved.
Watching Kizira almost choke had made her a believer.
Kizira reminded her, “Make sure you face the security camera when you leave, and hold up the Triquetra so Quinn will know what happened to his warded blade. As soon as you do that, I’ll teleport you.”
Evalle gave the priestess a thumbs-up. “Got it.”
Kizira disappeared in a swoosh of colors, and Evalle exited through the door to the hallway. She found the camera and made sure she faced it and pulled the Triquetra out of its sleeve long enough to be filmed. In the next two steps, she walked on a sidewalk in Storm’s neighborhood.
Nerves hit her all at once.
Would Storm forgive her? She had less than four hours, maybe the last hours she’d ever get to spend with him.
She touched her hair that fell past her shoulders. Kizira could have sent her here in warm-ups with dirty hair, but Evalle was freshly showered and outfitted in clean jeans, an aqua knit sweater, boots sans the fighting blades and a short leather jacket.
When she reached the walkway to his front door, fear gripped her chest.
What if he wasn’t here?
Or if he just shut the door in her face?
As much as needing him to warn the Beladors, she craved his touch. To feel him one more time. Swallowing past her thick throat, she pushed herself down the walk, up the steps and onto the porch.
When she reached out to knock, the door flew open and Storm stood there.
Tension vibrated the air until she couldn’t breathe.
All the things she’d thought about saying fled her mind.
“I’m sorry . . .” She lunged forward and he caught her. Powerful arms pulled her to safety, crushing her to him.
; Her heart started beating again.
His mouth crushed hers. His hands were everywhere as if unsure she was really here.
She reached up and shoved her arms around his neck, holding on with everything she had.
Holding tight to everything she’d ever wanted.
Cupping her bottom, he lifted her up and spun her around. She hooked her legs around his waist. The door slammed shut. Her sunglasses went flying, but everything was dark inside and she didn’t need them anyhow. He backed her against the cold wood surface of the door. His hot body stoked the furnace building within her.
She grabbed his hair, dragging him closer, aching. Wanting to feel him everywhere.
His tongue plunged into her mouth, tangling with hers. She could kiss him for days without stopping. Her heart beat as loud as war drums in her ears.
Long fingers swept under her sweater, unclipped the front clasp on her bra and . . . oh, dear goddess.
His thumb brushed over her nipples that were tight and hurting for his touch. She arched up against him, feeling the long, hard ridge pulsing inside his jeans.
He growled and nipped at her neck, panting with labored breaths. “Can’t believe you’re here.”
“I can’t believe you’re stopping.”
A savage emotion lit his eyes.
She rubbed up against him and kissed his neck, then his ear, not sure if that was the right move. He growled a sound that came out closer to jaguar than man. She eased back and lifted her gaze to his, making one thing clear. “This is me. Not the armband.”
He pulled her to him in a shuddering hug and kissed her hair, his voice raw when he whispered, “I thought you were dead . . . or worse.”
There were many things worse than death in the supernatural world.
“I know.” She ran her lips over his eyes and cheeks, then his mouth, sharing her hunger and giving him all the feelings she’d held back too long.
The feelings she’d been too scared to share.
She was tired of being a coward with Storm.
He wrapped his arms around her and turned, moving through the house to his bedroom, where it was darker than midnight. She didn’t care where he went as long as he took her with him.
His mouth touched hers again and she drifted into a fantasy world of nothing but Storm’s touch. Firm lips kissed her, then caressed her cheek and her neck.
Her jacket came off with a sweep.
The man had the hands of a magician.
She felt herself falling back, cradled in his arms. He followed her down, nuzzling her neck as he lowered her to his huge bed. When he covered all of her with his body, he slowed his kisses to tender touches all over her face and neck, his mouth burning a path. He slowed the tempo in spite of breathing harder than Evalle could ever recall.
His fingers brushed her hair, then inched down over her chest. He moved with ruthless control, holding back instead of unleashing that powerful body.
She should have been terrified by the hot desire staring down at her, but she wasn’t and trembled with her own need. Reaching up, she clamped her hands on each side of his face, forcing his gaze to hers.
Storm still couldn’t believe he held Evalle. He was out of his mind with joy over having her in his arms. Knowing she was alive and safe. He was the danger right now, wanting to feel himself inside her. Sex terrified Evalle, and he was acting wilder than his jaguar.
Had he rushed her? “I’m scaring you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’ll slow down . . . or stop.” For her, he’d take all the time she needed, even if it killed him, and stopping might.
“No, you won’t.”
He searched her face and saw that she meant what she said. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
The tip of her pink tongue made a swipe along her lips. “You. Only you.”
She had no idea what those words did to him. How deeply she touched him in a place no one else ever had. “I’m all yours and you’re mine.”
Bold possession gleamed in her eyes. “Touch me. Make me yours.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll touch you everywhere, but we’ll take it easy.”
“Don’t baby me in this, Storm. I’m fine. I’ve . . . got my beast under control.”
“Your beast won’t be a problem because you know you’re safe with me.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I need you more than my next breath. I will never hurt you.”
“I need you, too. I trust you.”
He lifted his head to see her feelings unshielded and honest. “Thought I’d never hear that.”
No one had ever looked at him the way she did right now, as if he was her world. She whispered, “Thought I’d never trust a man the way I do you. Never feel what I do for you.”
Caring this much was dangerous for someone like him, but it was too late to worry about that.
She was his.
He wasn’t giving her up.
Easing up off of her, he pulled his knees alongside her hips for support and eased his hands beneath her sweater, sliding up to lift her bra out of the way and push her top up until he could take one of her nipples in his mouth and brush his tongue over the tip.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
Slow. Easy. “Put your arms above your head, sweetheart.” When she did, he worked the sweater up her arms, stopping when it was halfway off and leaning down to suckle the other breast.
She cried out, trembling. Her reaction washed over his skin and sent blood rushing to his cock.
“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”
When she did, he held her brilliant green gaze with his.
The smooth green emerald glowed on her chest. He’d thought about removing it, but he’d changed his mind. Not until he knew she was safe from the Medb and the witch doctor.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said, talking calmly to her as he pulled off his long-sleeved T-shirt. Her eyes widened, watching him, no doubt expecting the jeans to go next.
He brushed his thumbs over each of her beaded nipples at the same time.
She moaned and arched hard, her body shaking.
Damn, what passion had been buried all this time.
The only time she’d been touched intimately had been by the bastard who’d attacked her. She might as well be a virgin and this her first time. This first time would be all hers. The next time, and there would be many more, he wanted to drive deep inside her and feel the passion thrumming through her when she crested.
Soon.
Running his hands up her arms, sliding the sweater to her hands, where he lifted it off, then held her hands with his. Not an imprisoned grip, but an affectionate one. He kissed her slowly, taking his time to drive her to the point of begging.
He wanted her so overwhelmed she could think only about what she needed. Only then could he take his jeans off.
Smoothing his fingers down her arms, he started kissing her at her neck, then her shoulders. He moved to her breasts, using his tongue to tease her nipple until she trembled.
While he had her focused on that, he unzipped her jeans and eased them down, kissing his way to her belly button, then sitting back on his knees and moving until he pulled her jeans off.
She wore a thin pair of black-and-red lace panties.
Sweet mother of . . .
His throat was too dry for words.
Her hips lifted and he dipped his head, tugging the panties down with his teeth, then pulling them off. What a view. She surpassed his fantasies, and his were pretty damned hot fantasies.
Running his hands along the insides of her thighs, he inched up until he touched her heat. Her legs quivered.
She arched her back, then, amazing woman that she was, Evalle shoved away from the headboard, sitting up. She grabbed him and kissed him. Attacked his mouth.
She never did anything halfway.
He’d suspected she’d be a powerhouse in bed, and she wasn’t disappointing him. He cupped her breasts and brushed his thumbs over nipples
crying for attention.
Evalle broke the kiss. “You’re still dressed.”
She was wet, but was she ready for him, all of him? He stepped off the bed and unzipped his pants, shucking out of them and groaning at the feel of springing free.
He climbed back on the bed, kneeling in front of her. “Okay?”
“No.” She shook her head, but the smile on her lips gave away the tease. “I’d call that spectacular.”
“Wild woman.” He kissed her all the way back down to the bed, loving the feel of her under him.
She reached between them, curling her fingers around him.
Muscles tightened across his shoulders with the effort of fighting the urge to thrust. He didn’t have to ask if she was good with this. He’d know the minute anything changed, and right now he could feel desire wrapping both of them.
“I trust you, Storm. Don’t hold back.”
He didn’t.
Kissing her again, he unleashed the hunger he’d fought since the first time he’d touched her. She released him and gripped his shoulders with the strength of a warrior.
But she rubbed up against him, and hot blood roared through him. He swept a hand down to slide into the slick, hot moisture between her legs. The second he pushed a finger inside her she arched up, gripping him hard.
She was ready.
He suckled her breast at the same moment his fingers stroked in and out of her. His thumb moved across the nub at the center of her heat, and he could feel her coiling toward climax.
Her nails dug into his back. “Storm . . . yes . . . I . . .”
He stroked her again and grazed his teeth over her nipple. At the moment he pushed her over the edge, he lifted up to watch her first orgasm. Green eyes glowed with passion. She arched up against his hand and shrieked, chest heaving.
“Oh, my . . .” She couldn’t speak.
When her shudders slowed, he wrapped her up and rolled over with her draped over him. He ran his hand up and down her back, calming her.
She rubbed against him, not calming him in the least.
He gritted his teeth. “Careful, sweetheart. Been a while for me.”
Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4) Page 29