The Curse
Page 9
"You're just full of ideas, aren't you? What makes you think I can find Alterants when I haven't located any others since meeting Tristan and his sister? Fat lot of good that's done me." She glared at Tristan, who examined his hands as if critiquing a manicure. Turning back to Sam, she asked, "Any tips on how I can find these Alterants?"
"Yes, you can--"
The living room windows exploded into the house.
Evalle smelled the burnt-lime odor that screamed Medb. She jumped to her feet and vaulted over the back of her chair, landing sure-footed.
She reached toward her boot for her dagger.
Which was still on her motorcycle back at the Iron Casket.
Two warlocks in snug, black, ninja-type clothes jumped Tristan, who hit them with kinetic blasts. Barely fazed them.
Poor Sam had been snatched up and shoved against the wall by another warlock.
Evalle swung her hand in a horizontal arc from left to right. The kinetic slice had been intended to take out the knees of the warlock attacking Sam.
Her blast bounced off the Medb.
No way.
Evalle started toward Tristan, but two more warlocks leaped through the windows.
She had her own fight coming on.
Her and Tristan's kinetics were dulled in here for some reason. A quick stomp released the blades in her boots as the last two warlocks reached her. Twisting her body, she swung her feet, cutting the first warlock's neck. Purple blood spewed everywhere.
Tristan yelled in her mind. Link with me and I'll teleport.
She didn't hesitate, opening her mind to feel his power surge through her.
The second warlock coming after her had paused to shove the one with the slit throat out of his way.
Evalle stuck her arms out when the room started spinning. She experienced a moment of panic. That warlock could attack her in this vulnerable position, half in and half out of teleporting.
But he'd turned from her to face the window where the Medb priestess Kizira came floating through, landing next to Tristan. She clamped a hand on his shoulder and he screamed in pain.
Evalle jerked when the pain lashed through their bond. Her body vibrated with the teleporting disrupted.
Kizira yelled at the warlock nearest Evalle, "Stop the Alterant!"
All of a sudden, Evalle spun into full teleportation.
At the best of times Evalle hated traveling this way. She didn't feel Tristan's presence near her as when he'd teleported her in and out of the Maze of Death.
All at once, her body whipped back and forth like a jet gyrating out of control.
She lost the link to Tristan.
But her body still flip-flopped through space in a crazy spin. Alone.
Had he managed to send her flying before he disengaged from her? She couldn't do this on her own, and she'd been teleported enough times to know something had gone wrong.
Please don't send me into a solid wall or drop me in the middle of traffic or ...
The calamari she'd eaten churned in her stomach. She flipped and rolled, turned upside down, then all at once ... she slammed to a stop. The spinning ended. Hallelujah.
When she opened her eyes, she was down on all fours on soft ground. Grass? And the air smelled ... ancient.
She didn't want to raise her head.
Please, not the Tribunal. How could Tristan do that to her? How would he even be capable of sending her to the realm of gods and goddesses? But then she heard music in another room. Loud, synthesized tunes pounded the walls around her. Nothing like the shrill silence of the Nether Realm where the Tribunal met.
Two massive boots stepped into her view.
She lifted her head to meet black eyes.
Definitely not a Tribunal. Deek D'Alimonte, which meant that reverberating sound shaking the floor had to be music blasting through the Iron Casket.
Hard to believe, but she'd landed somewhere worse than facing a Tribunal. The gods and goddesses had laws to uphold.
Deek made his own laws.
VIPER never sent anyone into Deek's club for intel for one reason--they would not come to save the agent stupid enough to break any of Deek's rules. Not without declaring war.
She'd been dumped in the one place on earth no one would willingly teleport without an invitation.
Deek surveyed her with surprise. "Evalle Kincaid?"
She'd take it as a good sign that he hadn't fried her yet, but she couldn't answer him. Not while she kept her mouth clamped shut to keep from humiliating herself by getting sick.
He angled his head in a confused-dog look. "Didn't I warn you about causing problems in my club the last time we met?"
She nodded, hoping he'd allow her that for a yes.
"And you know my rule about anyone using majik or powers inside the Iron Casket."
She gave him another nod, but technically she hadn't committed either infraction. He never said anything about teleporting. She'd point that out if she could.
Just how powerful was a centaur in his human form? Sweat ran down Evalle's cheek and dripped off her chin.
His face tightened with fury, but his voice came out soft. Dangerously soft. "You dare to teleport here uninvited?"
She shook her head, hoping to convey that this had been an accident.
"VIPER would not question my right to discipline someone who breaks into my domain." He'd leaned down so far his breath fired across her face. "I will allow you one chance to use that shrew's mouth to explain why I should not rip your body to shreds and use the parts to decorate my dungeon."
That required opening her mouth.
He roared, "Speak." The walls trembled.
She threw up on Deek.
NINE
Pain crawled up Tristan's arms and around his neck, twisting and biting. Phantom snakes with spiked skin squirmed inside his body. He clenched his eyes tighter.
Had Evalle escaped? Alive and in one piece?
He'd sent her to the Iron Casket, he hoped. Hell, he had no idea what happened after he'd shoved that blast of power into the teleporting.
He might if he'd been born with the ability to teleport. Unlike this witch priestess who was born with that power, Tristan had gained his ability secondhand by drinking a concoction that included the blood of immortal Hindu warriors.
Fat lot of good that blood had done him. Immortality would have been more helpful than limited teleportation skills.
A saucy female voice said, "Tristan, we meet again."
The bane of his life. He forced his eyes open and gritted out one word. "Kizira."
She released her grip on his shoulder and her warning-flare-red blouse shimmered with the movement. Sheer sleeves ruffled along her arms, down to her wrists, where slender hands had fingernails painted to match. Jeans hugged her shapely legs stuffed into knee-high boots made of eel-skin ... that undulated.
Some men would consider her dark green eyes and oval face surrounded by a mane of sunset-red hair attractive.
He'd like to stake that head on a pike.
"What do you want, Kizira?"
"I'll let you know when I think of something." She swung around, taking in the old guy.
Whoa. Tristan blinked his eyes. What was going on with Sam? His decaying image shifted and changed ... a glamour? Sam pulled the tubes off his mask and tossed them aside. He lost a little height with the alteration to his new form, but this early-thirties body had a substantial, even robust appearance. And, he was not currently being held prisoner by the warlocks.
Tristan demanded, "Who is he?"
Kizira looked from Sam to Tristan. "Oh, that's right. You think he's Sam something or other. Meet Conlan O'Meary."
The pain slithering through Tristan's veins became inconsequential compared to the surge of fury over having been screwed. "You bastard."
Tristan opened his mind to call a warning to Evalle. Sam is--
The words in his head bounced back at him, beating his brain with the force of a gong slamming inside a giant
church bell. He grabbed his head, yelling, "Stop!"
And the sound disappeared.
Tristan took shallow breaths to keep from passing out. Stars shot across his gaze.
Kizira warned, "If you try to reach Evalle again, or anyone else telepathically, you will suffer until your ears bleed." Then she told Conlan, "Were you successful? Convincing?"
"Hard not to be when I'm compelled," Conlan said with an edge of irritation. "I don't need that to do my part. I came to you willingly, didn't I?"
"I didn't do anything to you. If you have an issue with being compelled, file your complaint with Queen Flaevynn. But take it from someone she compels on a regular basis, you'll end up being forced to do far worse than fool an Alterant." Kizira ordered her warlocks, "Leave no trail from here."
Tristan had nothing to offer in trade to protect his sister, Petrina, and two Rias friends, except himself, and Kizira already had him wrapped in invisible binding. He hoped his group would stick with his backup plan and leave immediately when he didn't call them with news in the next fifteen minutes as scheduled. He'd told Petrina to contact Evalle or Tzader if anything happened to him.
Tristan would accept his fate as long as those three were safe. "What do you want with me, Kizira?"
She moved across the room, pausing to eye him as a useless speck of a creature. "At the present moment, not a thing. You did better than I expected."
"What do you mean?"
"Thanks to you, Evalle will find the Alterants for us."
"No, she won't." Not once Petrina gave Evalle the letter he'd written. The first part explained what he knew about Alterants that Evalle could use with the Tribunal. The last part warned her to stay as far away from the Medb as she could.
The Medb wanted Alterants, especially Evalle.
Now he had an idea why.
The Medb believed Evalle would locate more Alterants, including specific ones they clearly had plans for, and once that happened, the Medb would capture Evalle and the other Alterants.
Not if Tristan's contingency plan worked and Petrina traded his letter in exchange for asylum with the Beladors. Evalle would protect her and the two Rias. And the minute she read the letter, Evalle would realize that coming to save him would only give the Medb what they needed most to kill Brina and take Treoir.
He grinned at Kizira. "You'll never get your hands on Evalle."
"You're wrong, Tristan." Kizira leaned forward and whispered, "Evalle will lead us to the green-eyed Alterants."
"If you say so." He gave her a noncommittal look. "I'd think by now you'd realize that Alterants aren't as easy to catch as other nonhumans."
Kizira picked her head up and looked into his eyes. "That's why I've sent a team of Svart trolls to Atlanta to keep VIPER busy until I'm ready for them to bring Evalle back with our Alterants."
Svart trolls? What the hell were those? "You think a bunch of trolls can capture Evalle?"
"To be perfectly honest, not really. But she'll eventually come to us, because she's a sucker for a lost cause."
Tristan chuckled in spite of the pain that ripped through his chest. "Here's a tip, Kizira. Don't hold your breath waiting on Evalle, because I've made sure she won't come back for me."
Kizira levitated a couple of inches off the floor, smiling indulgently as one would at a naive child. "Evalle will never see your letter. I took it when my warlocks delivered Petrina and those Rias to TAmr Medb ... right before I left to come here."
"No," Tristan roared, lunging against the invisible bonds that sliced his skin. "I'll kill you!"
TEN
It's almost one thirty. Evalle's not with you?" Quinn slowly closed the door to his suite behind Tzader.
Why did Evalle have to be late this time? What could she still be doing this time of night ... morning?
He'd waited long enough to confess his betrayal to her. Guilt, and the potential for losing a friend, were eating through the lining of his stomach.
"No, haven't heard a word from her," Tzader called over his shoulder. When he reached the living room, he went straight for a cushy side chair and sank into it. "Glad to have your help at the cemetery, but why didn't you let me know you were coming back?"
"I made up my mind at the last minute, as soon as I felt ready to return." And I hadn't planned on seeing you until tomorrow, but that would only have delayed the inevitable. "Should we be concerned about Evalle?"
"Any other time I might be, but with her on some errand for Macha I'm thinking she's just running late or I'd probably have heard something from her or the goddess."
Quinn detoured to his wet bar, pulling a Guinness from the refrigerator for Tzader and pouring Boodles on the rocks for himself. He handed the chilled brew to Tzader, who wasted no time cracking it open.
Where to start?
Quinn had gone over this conversation in his head a hundred times and it never improved. "I would prefer for Evalle to be present so I only have to say this once, but now that I think about it, talking with you first may be better."
That brought Tzader's head up, his brown eyes sharpening. "You still having issues from probing Conlan's mind?"
"No noticeable residual issues."
"Then, what's bothering you?"
"We do have a complication. When I went into the precognitive area of Conlan's mind and accessed the future ... I ran into a problem."
Tzader leaned back, shaking his head. "You think I've forgotten how you bled from your eyes, nose and every other place blood could get out? Just glad you survived. Hate that you had to be the one to see Conlan joining up with the Medb. I know you had high expectations for him as a Belador warrior."
"We both did." Quinn swirled his drink, staring at the ice. "I condemned a good man to being hunted as a traitor."
"Not your fault, Quinn. You were doing your duty. And Conlan did more damage to himself by escaping from VIPER and running."
"We gave him no other option. He'd worked double time to prove he was not his traitorous father. Conlan came to the probe session willingly. Why would a traitor allow me, of all people, to search his mind?"
"I don't know, but nothing will change popular opinion right now."
Hearing resignation in that comment, Quinn asked, "What about you, Z? You thought Conlan was innocent at one time. Do you still think so?"
"Until I see hard evidence, I'm not willing to convict any person based on a vision of the future." Tzader twisted his neck, stretching it, then settled back against the chair. "You and I may be the only two who believe in that kid. Best way we can help him is by keeping our game faces on when we're around VIPER and Brina. Act as if Conlan's on the top of our most wanted list at all times. That way when we find the real traitor, they'll listen."
"I see your point."
Tzader's arm dangled off the side of the chair, beer loosely clasped in his fingertips. "Right now we have to come up with a plan for the Svart trolls and find out what they're after in Atlanta. I met with Sen and the other teams at headquarters--"
This was the part that Quinn had been dreading. He interrupted by raising his hand. "Stop. Before you go any further, there's something I need to tell you."
This time, the drink Tzader took clearly allowed him a pause to think. "Okay. Shoot."
"I did experience problems that lingered after the mind probe, but thought I'd heal like I had in the past."
"You didn't?"
"Yes and no. My mind has healed completely and I'm strong enough to handle a threat or a probe, maybe even stronger than before, but right after the probe while I was in my hotel room, I thought I was having hallucinations of Kizira being in my room."
That raised an eyebrow on Tzader's grim face. "What do you think caused that?"
"When I was in Conlan's mind and found the vision of the future where I saw him at a Medb meeting with Kizira, I got distracted and ... dropped my shields."
"What?" Tzader put his beer down and sat forward, feet on the floor, hands on his knees.
Qui
nn circled the mustard-yellow sofa and sat down, placing his drink on the glass end table and propping an arm across cinnamon-red pillows. "The spirit of Conlan's dead father showed up, but he didn't interfere. At first, he asked me to protect his son, then later he taunted that we were all fools. When Kizira didn't see or hear him, I took that as a positive sign. But when she started talking about the attack on Brina and Treoir Castle, I was caught off guard and allowed my shields to fall. Kizira saw me when I did."
"To be caught that off guard is ... unusual for you." Tzader spent a moment assessing Quinn. "What shook you?"
Quinn had argued with himself for hours over how much to tell Tzader, but he, Tzader and Evalle had always had each other's backs. He'd have to trust that Tzader would continue watching Evalle's when Quinn was no longer around. "I told you Kizira mentioned Evalle in that vision."
"Right."
"But I didn't say in what specific context her name was mentioned. I could claim having been in too much pain, but the truth is that I needed time to digest what I'd seen and heard. With Evalle's future on the line at the time with the Tribunal, I hesitated to repeat everything said about her."
Tzader propped his elbows on his knees and cupped his laced fingers under his chin, sorting through something mentally. "I took what you said to mean we had to keep an eye on Evalle because she was in danger."
"I know."
"That wasn't it?"
"To some degree, yes, but in the vision I observed Conlan telling Kizira that when the time came to take possession of Treoir, he would deliver Evalle to Kizira so that Evalle could destroy the inhabitants and breach the castle."
"No way. Evalle would never do that."
Lifting a hand to hold off Tzader's anger, Quinn said, "You'll get no argument from me, but with Conlan loose, VIPER, Macha and even Brina will have to give every possibility serious consideration, even that one."
"I won't let anything or anyone harm Brina." Tzader's conviction shook the air. "But neither will I give Sen the evidence he needs to bury Evalle in a VIPER prison or Macha to terminate her. We'll capture the traitor before anyone can get to Treoir. Besides, the Medb would have to find Treoir Island first."
"That's not the entire problem." Quinn looked Tzader in the eye when he told him the last bit. "When I was in my hotel room, I thought I hallucinated that Kizira was there and ... we made love."