Alterant (Belador #2)(20)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

But if her reasoning was wrong, she had no idea what the fallout would be.

“Then do it,” Storm encouraged.

Using one gift now left just two for capturing three Alterants and dealing with Tristan at large.

She had no choice, but that didn’t make her happy about what she had to do. “I can’t believe I’m going to burn a gift on this,” she muttered.

“On what?” Storm stepped close to her.

“Teleporting. And I don’t know how to do it, so I’ll probably throw up the entire way and …” She lifted her gaze to him. “I can’t leave you, but I might do something wrong and hurt you if I don’t do this right.”

Storm pulled her into his arms.

She sank against him, enjoying the feel of his body next to hers.

He lowered his head and told her, “I’ll keep you from getting sick. Call on the gift.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but his lips covered hers.

Since meeting Storm she’d come to realize that kissing cured a lot of ailments.

His mouth managed to suck all the fight out of her. His hands tucked her closer, but carefully. As if he knew just how far to test her ability to be touched. She’d never let anyone kiss her or get close enough to touch her since escaping that basement.

Not until meeting Storm just a few days ago.

He paused and lifted his head. “Teleport us now or we won’t be leaving here for hours.”

It wasn’t what he said so much as the serious intent in his voice and stark hunger turning his eyes black that got her moving.

She didn’t hesitate. “By the Tribunal power gifted me, I command that Storm and I be teleported along the same path as Tristan.”

The world started spinning as a thought hit her.

What if Tristan teleported somewhere dangerous that he was prepared for, but she and Storm would not be? What if …

Storm folded her close to him and kissed her again, pushing thoughts of anything but him from her mind.

An unfamiliar need coiled hot and urgent inside her. His lips caressed hers, his tongue playful. Fingers slid down to her hips, gently moving her snug against him.

Heat rippled through her abdomen.

He whispered calm words between kisses pressed along her neck. She shivered, longed for what his kiss promised. Her body urged her into his touch.

This was the only way to teleport.

He kissed her cheek once, twice.

She leaned back against his arm and turned her head, sucking in a breath when his lips caressed her throat.

All at once the swirling colors melded into distinct lines.

The ride was almost over. Too soon.

She smiled when Storm paused then kissed her again.

Did he do everything with this intense focus? As her feet touched solid ground again, Storm’s chest expanded with a deep breath. He released a groan as if he was just as disappointed as she was to realize their trip would end soon.

He cupped her face and whispered, “Welcome to Air Evalle. Coffee, tea … or this.” He kissed her again, murmuring, “Keep your eyes closed.”

She smiled around his lips and followed his advice.

One day when this was over, maybe she would …

Day.

A new worry hit her with brutal swiftness. If Tristan had teleported to Atlanta, that’s where she and Storm were landing.

It would be … afternoon. Right now.

What if the sun blazed overhead?

Still clinging to Storm, Evalle opened her eyes to a glint of brilliant light.

FIFTEEN

Tzader paced the boardroom on the eighteenth floor of Quinn’s building, one of several he owned in downtown Atlanta.

His gut said not to do this, especially to Vladimir Quinn.

Not that Tzader wanted to risk destroying any person’s mind, but Quinn and Evalle were his closest friends.

Next to Brina.

He stopped pacing. How could Brina think he didn’t put her safety first? What was going on with her?

She was his world.

Her idea of searching Conlan O’Meary’s mind had some validity. A slim possibility of gaining information, but enough that Tzader couldn’t refuse in good conscience.

And Quinn was the best they had at navigating a mind.

Quinn’s dry Oxford tone broke into Tzader’s thoughts. I’ll be up in a moment. I took care of Evalle’s job at the morgue on my way here.

Where do they think she is?

On personal leave. She may not like my interfering, but she’s getting my help this time whether she wants it or not.

Leave it to Quinn to pull strings to ensure that Evalle still had her grunt job once she appeased the Tribunal. She put a higher value on independence than an asthmatic put on oxygen.

She’ll appreciate that, Tzader said.

Perhaps. Then Quinn was gone.

The antique clock on the side table dinged softly five times. This late on a Friday afternoon, rush hour traffic heated tempers in any city, but if that sulfur fog descended on the streets of Atlanta this evening the highways would turn into bloody battle zones.

Quinn entered the conference room on a calm stride, but tension lined his forehead. He punched buttons on his smart phone. His cinderblock gray European suit fit his athletic build with a precision only the best tailors could offer. Women seemed to like all that fancy trimming and upper-crust British accent, one of his finer qualities acquired after early years spent in Russian ghettos.

Tzader stopped pacing and glanced at the door. “Where’s Conlan?”

“Our young O’Meary is on his way here. Then he’ll have to be cleared through building security.”

When Tzader quirked an eyebrow in amusement, Quinn chuckled and shrugged. “I must keep up appearances at all my corporate properties.”

Metal detectors couldn’t detect a weapon warded against view, like the two sentient blades hanging from Tzader’s belt. The blades had snarled at the security personnel when Tzader had passed through the scanner, but they were invisible to human eyes and machines when he needed them to be.

Quinn stopped fiddling with his phone and slipped it into a pocket inside his jacket. “I heard about beast attacks on my flight back from D.C. I assume these are Alterants, based upon the lurid descriptions. What’s going on?”

“I just left a meeting at VIPER. There’s a mysterious fog that hovers close to the ground around all these attacks. Has a sulfuric odor and causes everyone it touches to turn aggressive and mean, instant road rage mentality. Bad as that is, this fog appears to be a catalyst for forcing Alterants to shift. We’re up to a hundred and thirty-four that we know about that have shifted in different parts of the country.”

“I saw a low-hanging haze that covered a massive section of Virginia we flew over. A dull yellow color.”

“That’s it.”

“What—or who—is causing the fog?”

Tzader rubbed his chin and let out a weary breath. “I’d say we don’t know, but some people are jumping to conclusions about Alterants in general.”

Quinn made the mental leap Tzader expected. “Any word on Evalle?”

“Yes, but what Sen told me after the briefing isn’t good.”

“Let me guess. Mr. Charm wanted to gloat over Evalle being outside our reach right now?”

“I wish that was all. He said Tristan has escaped again.” Tzader had barely restrained himself from wiping the smile from Sen’s face.

“The Alterant we just put away yesterday? Whose bloody fault was that?”

“According to the Tribunal, Evalle is behind the escape.”

Something vile and Russian hissed from between Quinn’s lips, sounding as deadly as Tzader’s thoughts. Quinn crossed the room and stopped next to Tzader where he stared out the window.

No yellow haze had formed in Atlanta. Yet.

Tzader told him the rest. “The Tribunal believes Evalle and Tristan could be connected to the fog, that they’re trying to build an army from the shifting Alterants.”

“That’s absurd.”

“It’s absurd that Evalle would do this, but Tristan’s a wild card,” Tzader said. “However, none of the Alterants currently shifting have green eyes that we know of.”

“Then how can they tie this to Tristan and Evalle? Maybe these things aren’t Alterants. That’s like saying anything with a mane, four legs and a tail is a horse, but not distinguish that a zebra or giraffe might be different.”

“I agree, but the Tribunal isn’t making that distinction,” Tzader explained. “Sen indicated the Tribunal sent Evalle on a task with a time limit. Once Tristan escaped, the Tribunal issued a decree to kill all Alterants on sight, regardless of the color of their eyes.” Just saying those words out loud froze the blood in Tzader’s veins.

“Bloody hell. Why don’t they send Sen after her? Even if we don’t know what he is, the Tribunal must, and he’s pretty damn powerful. He could find her before anyone else.”

“Sen says he’s been given parameters for bringing her back that he can’t discuss, and the Tribunal won’t touch her until her time is up. Even if Sen could go to Evalle, do you really think he wouldn’t take advantage of a shoot-to-kill order?”

“The one time Captain Dickhead could really help,” Quinn ground out. He backhanded his fist into the window frame, denting it. For someone who prided himself on maintaining control, Quinn still had a temper. “Why is VIPER letting this fog still spread?”

“Because no one, not even the deities associated with VIPER, can stop it.”

“With all the power we control in the coalition, we can’t stop this? Why not?”

That was what Tzader had been asking everyone at VIPER for the past hour. He’d even contacted Macha, who’d been unable to affect the stinking fog that continued to leach through coastal states only. “No one knows for sure, but VIPER resources are speculating that it might take either the person who created the fog or someone who can wield the same majik to influence it.”

“The fact that this fog can cause immediate aggression in humans and trigger Alterants to shift into beasts would suggest that it’s sentient.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Tzader agreed. The fog had taken on a living quality.

“We’ve got to find Evalle before someone cuts her down.”

“I know, but no one is telling us anything, including Brina.”

Quinn’s expression offered consolation. “And you don’t want to press her until we have something on the traitor to give her?”

“Not with Brina on a tear right now. Evalle needs Brina on her side, since she’s the most powerful person allowed to accompany Evalle in the Tribunal meetings. I figure if we can convince Brina that Conlan’s not a threat, and show her we’re doing all we can to find the traitor, she’ll support helping Evalle.” And maybe realize Tzader put Brina’s safety first above everything.

He’d intervened to protect Brina many times since meeting her when she was fourteen. He’d lost his heart the first time he’d heard her laugh. The sound had stayed with him like a favorite song playing over and over in his mind. She’d been laughing at how he’d missed a bull’s-eye by an inch with his knife, but she hadn’t known that he’d been practicing with his nondominant hand. He’d been so taken with her that he’d let her believe she’d outmatched him when she’d tossed her dagger and stabbed dead center.

Her father had warned Tzader long ago that she’d heel to no man’s command except the Treoir patriarch, and at times she tested limits even with him. Tzader had smiled, thanking her father for his advice and more determined than ever to win the heart of the Treoir jewel.

Both of their fathers had wanted this union. Everyone had.

None as much as Tzader.

Had Brina really stopped loving him?

Something must have changed. She’d made it clear she wanted to break off their relationship.

Quinn spoke, pulling Tzader back to the issue with Evalle. “The Tribunal might forbid us from contacting Evalle—”

Tzader interrupted. “The Tribunal has ordered her not to contact us.”

“That would explain why we haven’t been able to reach her telepathically, and Brina would have to support a Tribunal declaration.”

“I’ll stand down from going after Evalle if Brina can explain how leaving Evalle to be hunted like a dog by VIPER is honorable.”

Quinn curved his lips in a grim reaper smile. “In other words, we begin searching by sunset.”

“Right.”

A voice came into Tzader’s mind, asking, Maistir?

Tzader answered, Yes?

Conlan O’Meary reporting in. I’m entering the building now.

Tzader sent back, Very good. He said to Quinn, “Conlan said he’s on the way in. Sure you still want to do this probe?”

“We all do things we’d rather not, including Brina. Perhaps she is more objective than you or I. However, I feel the need to point out that Conlan had an alibi for the night the traitor lured us into that Medb trap in Utah.”