Blood Trinity (Belador #1)(42)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

He did a perfect imitation of a robotic gargoyle.

The women laughed and oohed over him.

Bless Feenix, because he managed not to smile when she could see how much he wanted to.

Thankfully, the fourth floor hallway was vacant of humans. Nicole’s door opened before she knocked on it.

Beautiful. That word always jumped into Evalle’s mind when she saw Nicole, with her caramel brown hair that flowed and curled around her brown sugar shoulders, but the woman wasn’t the least bit vain. She wore a flowing sleeveless housedress that hid the crippled legs she’d been born with, and she leaned heavily on her rosewood cane.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Nicole inched forward to give a hug she knew Evalle didn’t allow easily. When Nicole hobbled backward and opened the door wider, she saw Evalle wasn’t alone. “Hello, Feenix. Oh! You’re wearing the shirt I gave you.”

Bouncing into the apartment, Feenix took Nicole’s exclamation as a cue to be himself again. He stomped from foot to foot and pointed at his shirt. “Like it, dammit.”

Nicole gave Evalle a sharp look at the curse word.

“Don’t ask. It was an accident, and I haven’t been able to fix it.” Evalle told Feenix, “‘Dammit’ is not a good word, so don’t use it, okay?”

“Whereth my bucket?”

“What?” Nicole asked.

“That’s another conversation. What’s up?”

“You’re in a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t need a witch with psychic ability to tell me that. I could have used my Magic Eight Ball.”

“You need someone to clue you in on how bad it is.” Nicole lifted her hands and murmured words, then the room fell dark as night. “Get out of that gear and start catching me up on the details while I fix our tea.”

Nicole produced several colorful twirling toys that floated across the room. Feenix took up the chase, flying after them through the eleven-hundred-square-foot apartment while Evalle gave her the rundown. Tzader and Quinn had warned Evalle about discussing Belador or VIPER business with anyone outside the tribe and agency respectively, but Nicole knew both groups existed and, at times, details that surprised Evalle.

She’d met Nicole while patrolling Avondale for Southend warlocks her first week in Atlanta. Warlocks were male witches who walked on the dark side of life, and the trio terrorizing Avondale had been especially dangerous.

When Evalle had found the three supernatural goons, she’d thought Nicole was a lone wheelchair-bound woman in danger of being hurt. But Nicole had intentionally drawn the boys into a dead-end driveway at the rear of a shopping center after midnight. She’d revealed herself as a witch, then used her rare gift to show them what their future held where they would end up enslaved to a more powerful warlock with twisted sexual cravings.

Nicole had done more in sixty seconds than anyone had accomplished with the three boys in their entire lives. She’d given them a choice of going to a halfway coven house for rehabilitation or facing worse judgment by their peers for crimes committed against humans.

They’d made the smart choice.

When Nicole realized Evalle had witnessed the exchange, she’d warded Evalle against being seen by the warlocks when they’d walked away from the alley, protecting her from any repercussion down the road in case the rehab didn’t work.

Evalle had never had a stranger act so selflessly on her behalf except for Tzader and Quinn.

Nicole was a rare witch, not because she was psychic.

Psi ability wasn’t uncommon in witches, but Nicole could speak to spirits from the future and sometimes give that future a corporeal form. That might sound like a handy ability to have, except that opening up a channel for a spirit from the future also opened a pathway for that spirit to travel to the present day. With no way of knowing if the spirit was evil or not, Nicole risked being attacked or unleashing the spirit on someone she cared about.

And when Nicole’s spirit traveled forward to search for answers, she risked being trapped in the pathway, which would leave her body an empty host.

But right now she was seated on a cozy chair in autumn colors across from where Evalle perched on a sofa. Nicole put her tea down on the glass end table at her left and clasped her hands in her lap while Evalle gave her a rundown on what had happened so far.

Nicole sighed quietly. “That explains some of my visions. You know of the ancient tribe who hunts the Ngak Stone, of the male being who is helping that tribe and about the human female whose life dangles in the midst of it all because she found the stone. But do you know why the female will not give up the stone?”

“She thinks it’s like a genie’s lamp that will grant her wishes?”

“That would have been my first guess, but when I asked the spirits for help all I got was that her world is a blur of fear.”

“Fear of what? Is someone hurting her?”

Nicole frowned with deep thought. “Not yet. I think the blurry part is important, but I don’t know what it means. Do you know anything about this woman?”

“I saw her.”

“Really? Did you talk to her?”

“No, I was too busy fighting off the guy helping the Kujoo.” Evalle rubbed her forehead, pushing back the ache from lack of sleep. “All I know is she’s clueless about all this.”

“What about the blurry part?” Nicole pressed.

Evalle ran back through last night in her mind until she hit on how the woman had been out in the dark with no flashlight and had felt with her hands at one point for her dog. But her eyes had been sharp and clear when she’d held the stone. “She might be blind.”

“Ah, I hadn’t considered that, since the woman was seeing something. It’s wrong to assume blind means no vision at all. Fear of a blurry world would make sense. You think the rock is allowing her to see?”

“Maybe.” Evalle sat up. “Do you know where she is?”

“No. Someone is blocking her face or shielding her.”

Crap. “Could be the Kujoo Vyan. I think he’s protective of her. If she is blind, she’s got to be terrified, between losing her eyesight and witnessing all that she saw in the park last night.”

“Hers was not the only fear I sensed. What is yours?”

The abrupt question caught Evalle off guard. “Nothing.”

Nicole’s pretty face stilled with disappointment at the lie.

Evalle sighed. “That’s not true, but I don’t want you searching my future.”

“If you fear something that’s coming, I can help.”

“My future has always been a crapshoot, but the dice are stacked against me right now. If you go looking into my future you could run into anything and not make it back.” Evalle considered what Nicole could do. “I need to know if I’m making the right decision on something. I have to find the Ngak Stone before another Alterant gets his hands on it.”

“There’s another Alterant free besides you?”

“Only because he escaped. He’s the guy working with the Kujoo and he hates Beladors almost as much as the Kujoo do. He claims Brina locked him away even though he didn’t turn into a beast or kill anyone before he was caged. I don’t know if I should believe that or not, but I’m more concerned with finding out if the Alterant, the Kujoo or the Medb are setting a trap for the Beladors. If not, I should have told the team about this Alterant, but if he was telling the truth about wanting me to tell my tribe, I’ve got to find a way to stop them from walking into the trap.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Tristan. Can you help me?”

“I’ll try.” Nodding, Nicole closed her eyes and leaned back. Several quiet minutes passed, then Nicole spoke a short prayer. Her eyelids started fluttering with rapid eye movement. “The Alterant Tristan … has a tortured past. He has lived as a beast in the jungle for five years.”

But had he changed into a beast before being caged or not?

Nicole was silent a moment, then said, “This same man at nineteen … is frightened, standing in front of strangers, Beladors, who are talking to him about his strange green eyes … then he disappears from his job digging graves and is in a jungle, terrified … he changes into a beast. He is tormented and alone.”

That sounds like Brina lied to me about Tristan. What about the other Alterants? Evalle’s throat tightened. She wanted to yell in frustration, but she wouldn’t distract Nicole.

“He does not have the stone yet. The Ngak Stone resides still with the female you met. She waits for … you. Follow the path from whence you last saw this stone. The trail will lead to the woman at her home, where you will find a sign of your next decision.”

That wasn’t a lot of help, since there was no way to track the woman after she’d teleported, and what did the “sign of her next decision” mean? Evalle kept quiet, watching Nicole’s lips move as she spoke in a dainty voice.

“Trust will open the path for one who is born to the task.”

Oh, great. Trust. One of my strengths. Why couldn’t Nicole tell her kicking demon ass opened the path? She had plenty of credits for that.

Nicole’s mouth puckered along with her brow with deep thought. “The path will lead to a choice one should not face.”

Evalle thought her head would explode with holding back her questions. What choice? That path didn’t sound promising.

“Your tribe’s future depends on the choice you make … to trust or not.”

What the heck did that mean? Evalle tapped her fingers on the fabric covering the sofa, waiting for a sign that Nicole was finished.

“You will be victorious—”

At that, Evalle gave up the breath she’d clutched in her lungs.

“—and you will lose.”

“What?” The word popped out before Evalle could clamp her lips shut. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Nicole’s eyes opened, drowsy at first, then lighting with the sharp intelligence that lived behind the hazel orbs. “The Kujoo do hold the future of your tribe in their hands.”

“I didn’t doubt that part. What did you mean about the choice to trust or not? To trust the Alterant Tristan?”

“Only you will know the answer to that one … unless you allow me to search your future.”

“No. It’s too dangerous. I’ll figure out who I have to trust. What about the victorious and losing part? How does that work?”

“There is no absolute win in your future. You must lose something.”

“Story of my life,” Evalle quipped.

“I hope not. I want you to survive this.”

“Me, too, but protecting my tribe comes first.” The story of her life, which was shaping up to be a short story.

THIRTY-TWO

Laurette yawned, but she wouldn’t end the conversation with this man called Vyan for the life of her. She’d lived alone so long that she’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone to share a meal with and talk to about things she would have once discussed with her granddad.

What would Granddad think of Vyan?

Where had that thought come from?

Vyan pulled her back to the conversation as he finished off the shepherd’s pie Laurette had made for lunch, a Tuesday staple. “My wife shaped bowls and cups with her hands, too. She had skilled hands like yours to make such art from the earth.”

She hadn’t realized how much she missed hearing a compliment on her art. The last time had been her granddad’s parting words before he’d left on a trip he wouldn’t discuss and never returned.

Granddad had held her hands in his when he’d said, “You have a gift like no other with your hands. Promise me you’ll always create pottery, especially the large ones, and mark them the way I taught you. Always have one of your planters outside each door to welcome visitors.”

She’d never failed him, yet. Maybe if she’d made him promise to come back to her he’d be here now. He had returned to her in her dreams, where he’d told her he was sorry for not coming home, then assured her he’d always watch over her and send others if she ever needed help.

Now would be a good time for the cavalry, Granddad.

The dreams felt so real she believed he did watch over her.

Maybe he’d sent Vyan. That brought a smile to her lips until she realized the warrior had stopped talking about his dead wife. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you for that.” His eyes seemed to gaze back through time, then dropped away, embarrassed. “I can no longer see her face.”

That had to be hard. To not have a picture to remember someone by. “Will you find her when you go back?”

He shook his head. “I cannot go back to the time when she was alive, only the last day of my life before being sent to live beneath Mount Meru.” Giving another little shake of his head as if wiping something from his mind, he said, “It was long ago and I am glad she did not have to live beneath Mount Meru. What of your family?”