Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)(10)
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Turning off Marietta Street, he drove down to an area below the main street levels. His truck tires bumped over the rails of an old train track that gave history to the iconic Underground Atlanta entertainment mall.

Jostled mildly, Evalle slept like the dead, just as she had for the whole trip back from the mountains. He didn’t want to wake her, but she had less than fifteen minutes to get inside her apartment before light leaking over the eastern horizon turned into full-blown daylight.

He didn’t want to leave her either, but he’d finally relented when she’d argued she wouldn’t rest if she spent the whole time worrying about what she might do to him.

Also, with her safe in her underground apartment he’d have time to do some tracking.

Driving across the last section of the cracked concrete lot where knee-high weeds sprouted, he parked in front of a crumbling brick building that shielded Evalle’s basement home.

And sat there for several seconds, indulging in a stolen moment. Just the two of them. No one to save. No one to kill. What he wouldn’t give to make this time stretch into infinity.

He leaned over the console and kissed her softly.

She woke with a start, alert. Her bright green eyes met his. He’d taken her sunglasses off when she’d fallen asleep. They were parked in the dark shadow of the building, where no light would harm her eyes.

Evalle breathed deeply and smiled.

Sunshine came in many forms. The ball of fire that burst into the sky daily had nothing on one of her smiles. She leaned forward and kissed him back, fingers gliding into his hair, then curving around the back of his head to pull him closer.

And just like that, he had the erection from hell.

He held her face, tasting slowly, when he practically shook with wanting her. When he traced his fingers down to her shoulder, he slipped his hand around her neck.

Her skin started to heat, but he was ready this time and broke the kiss. Or tried to.

She wrenched him closer, kissing with more urgency.

“Evalle . . . honey,” he murmured when he could get a word out. “Have to stop.”

“No.”

He didn’t grab her this time. No sudden moves unless he wanted to go airborne. Instead, he said, “The armband.”

She paused, kissed him again, then paused once more, hesitating with indecision, but this time she pulled away and released a sigh weighted with frustration.

He could sympathize. Frustration had become a natural state for him, but it appeared that some of his spell was still holding. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes.” She snagged her glasses off the dash and shoved them onto her face before opening the door to get out. He met her at the front of the truck.

Light glowed in the eastern sky, but she had eleven minutes left until the first rays of the sun broke the horizon. He wanted eight of those but wouldn’t push her for more than she could handle right now, so he stood a few steps away, hands loose at his sides.

Had to be ready for anything.

She crossed the few steps separating them and lifted her fingers to his chin, then her lips to his, kissing him gently. Pinning his hands at his sides to keep from touching her took all the control he had left.

A man could only resist so much.

When she moved back, she kept her fingers on his face. “I’m ready for . . . more. For us.”

Words he’d dreamed about hearing. “You have no idea how much I’d like that to be the case but—”

“But nothing.” She lifted her glasses long enough for him to see her clear gaze before she dropped them back into place. “This is me, Storm. Not the bone. You said to trust you. When I get this thing off my arm, I want to try . . . with you.”

Those words hadn’t come easily.

Her pride had prevented her from taking the plunge before now and either making a fool of herself or harming him. But that same pride forced her to face her fears. To meet him on equal footing. With Evalle’s deep sense of honor, she’d follow through no matter how much the idea might terrify her.

Humbling to be given a trust so precious.

He’d never let her get to the point of feeling terrified, and he believed she had plenty of control over shifting when she was fully in charge of her actions.

No woman could stack up next to this one.

Wrapping his fingers around her hand, he turned her palm to kiss the soft pads. “I’ll be here when you’re ready, but not until you really are ready. Right now, I just want that thing off your arm before you try to kill Sen or Macha.”

She laughed. “Let’s hope I have more control around those two than I seem to have around you.”

He’d like to be near when she saw those two. “Where’re you meeting Macha?”

“Upstairs here in the building, on the roof.”

Evalle would be in her apartment until dark, which would give him time he needed. “Come to my place before you go to VIPER.”

“I don’t want you signing on with VIPER again. Not for this Alterant issue.”

“I’ll be looking for you.”

She rolled her eyes and grumbled something acerbic under her breath. “This is my fight. Even if you sign on with VIPER again, only two people can get into the beast championship with this armband. I’ll probably have to argue hard to get on that VIPER team, but Macha’s opinion should sway Sen. I’m telling you right now that I’m not going to vote for you to go, so you have no reason to come back to VIPER.”

“With my background, I’m the best piece of intel on these beast fights, and I plan to dig up more on the ABC.” That made Storm the prime candidate to be entered as a fighter. Something Tzader would agree with. The only other choice would be entering Evalle, but she couldn’t shift into her Alterant beast state, so she couldn’t possibly fight another Alterant and win.

Didn’t matter. Storm was going with her regardless.

She said, “Then share what you find out with me and I’ll give the information to VIPER.”

“We’ll talk.”

“It’s a good thing I’ve got my inner beast under control, because I have the urge to beat some sense into you.”

He gave her a quick kiss. “You’re out of time. Get inside and don’t forget to stop by after you talk to Macha.”

Shaking her head, she lifted her hand, fingers pointed toward the metal door that covered her elevator. The door slid open and an oversized elevator appeared. All directed by her kinetic power. When she stepped inside, she turned around. “Where’re you going?”

“Home.” He hadn’t lied. He was going to his house first to grab a shower before he headed back to the area where the Beast Club had been held in the mountains.

Then he’d shift into his jaguar so he could track the slightest scent.

He’d find Imogenia and persuade her to tell him everything about that bone that she hadn’t shared the first time.

SEVEN

Imogenia dragged Bernie along on his spelled chain leash that clanked every time he caught up to her. She should make him shift and carry her, but he’d whine about that.

Worthless excuse for an Alterant.

Couldn’t even kill a jaguar.

Thorns on a bush caught her dress and snagged a hole.

Next time I make a deal, it won’t include traipsing all over a mountain in the middle of the night.

With the sun finally ready to appear, Imogenia picked her way along the base of Oakey Mountain, relieved this miserable morning would come to an end. How was she going to gain Noirre majik with this wretched beast?

Why couldn’t she have captured an Alterant with some backbone?

A man like that jaguar shifter who’d kicked Bernie’s butt.

She passed through a copse of trees that shivered in the wind and entered a clearing she’d visited before midnight on her way to the Beast Club.

Rattling erupted all around her, as if hundreds of rattlesnakes circled where she stood.

Bernie whimpered.

Sorry excuse for a man. She yanked the leash. “Shut up.”

A woman emerged from the shadows cast by a stand of trees clustered on the shadow side of the mountain. When she came into focus, Imogenia could see that she wore an ankle-length hooded cape the color of a violent sea. Two red boot tips peeked out. She lifted her head enough for the light to catch her face, and thick lashes outlined exotic brown eyes.

Everything about that face was too perfect.

Imogenia never trusted perfection in anything. “Nadina.”

“You left plenty of trail, yes?”

“I zigzagged all over the place for the past four hours.” Imogenia had no idea why that had been part of the negotiation. She shouldn’t have been so anxious to deal, but the chance to get Noirre majik didn’t come along often.

Like never.

“When you leave, walk back the way you came until you can circle around this clearing, then go to your car.”

“I will do that.” Imogenia didn’t know why she had to make a wide arc around this clearing, but in the interest of getting along, she would.

“You were successful at the Beast Club?”

“Of course.” Imogenia flipped her chin up. “Not like I would have missed finding the target. Talk about diva attitude. She was the only woman wearing sunglasses at night. It turned out better than I expected.”

“Bueno.”

“Except for one thing.”

“What?”

One word shouldn’t raise the hairs along Imogenia’s arms, but Nadina had loaded that one with plenty of threat. “Did you know Daniella was a traitor in my coven?”

“Of course. Do not look so put-upon. Evalle needed something to trade with you.”

You better hope I never see a chance for payback. So Evalle was the name of that mouthy bitch with the jaguar. “Well, I have no strand of hair from her because she had Daniella to bargain with.”

Nadina studied on that for a moment. “What of the armband? It is now on her arm, yes?”

“Ye-sss,” Imogenia stressed impatiently. Nadina must normally deal with morons to keep asking me stupid questions. “I told you I was successful.”

Waving a hand tipped with long red nails, Nadina said, “Then the strand of hair is of no importance.”

Would have been nice to have had all the information before walking into that Beast Club. Imogenia should never have dealt with this unknown witch, but she needed more power than she held. She’d suspected a traitor in her coven for a while. Nadina had shown up with Volonte bones Imogenia would never have located. Even for one who practiced dark majik, Nadina had some serious connections. The Noirre spell Nadina agreed to give her in exchange for getting the armband locked on Evalle had seemed like a small favor until the woman’s jaguar almost killed Bernie. “Back to Daniella.”

“You should be thankful. Now you know about Daniella. Consider it a bonus.”

“How did you find out?”

“I have my ways, just as you do. Had I not gotten that information to Evalle, she would have had no reason to come looking for you. Comprendo?   ”

Imogenia had enough survival sense to be careful around an unknown dark witch, but no witch played her and got away with it. “Who else knows about Daniella?”

“A ghoul in Atlanta.”

“Nightstalkers? They’ll talk to anyone with power who shakes their hand.”

Nadina had that cat-sly look on her face. “No, they won’t. I’ve taken care of that.”

“How?”

“Come to me, my Langau,” Nadina said in response.

Imogenia started to ask what this certifiable witch was talking about when a dark figure moved into the clearing. The figure coalesced from a smoky image to a solid person, an attractive twenty-ish woman with brown hair cut in a chic style that fluffed around her face and disarming hazel eyes. She wore navy slacks and a mauve sweater with a plaid scarf of both colors.

And smelled graveyard dead.

Necromancy.

That was award-worthy conjuring, but on the intimidation scale this spirit ranked below zero. Imogenia asked, “And you think she’s going to keep Nightstalkers from running off at the mouth?”

Nadina was amused. “Not impressed with my Langau?”

Imogenia sensed she was heading into dangerous water by amusing the witch doctor, so she shrugged. “First impressions and all that.”

“Do you think a Nightstalker would hesitate to shake with this one?”

This one never showed any hint of acknowledging the conversation. Her eyes had a blank expression. Should have a Vacancy sign painted on her forehead. Imogenia replied, “No. I think any ghoul would shake hands with her.”

“That is exactly why I have five of these in Atlanta right now, searching for Nightstalkers and shaking hands, which infects the ghoul with a highly contagious virus. The infection is then passed by handshake to preternaturals, where it attacks their abilities. Kinetics become faulty and weak. The virus passes through telepathy, too, then attacks the host. Word is already getting around to avoid shaking with a Nightstalker.”