Alterant (20 page)

Feet apart and arms crossed, Storm might as well have had a Not Sold sign hanging from his neck. “So you shifted.”

“No, of course not. That’s the great part. I only
drew
on my Alterant powers.” She couldn’t get past his stony exterior. Or that suspicious glint in his eyes. “What’s with you? Ten minutes ago I faced losing my leg . . . and probably my life. Never mind.”

She took an angry sidestep and grimaced at the pain still streaking up her leg.

Concern broke through his hard gaze. “Your leg was really crushed?”

“Yes.”

Storm squatted down, studying her exposed knee and bloody jeans where claws had clearly ripped open the
material. He lifted shredded flaps of material aside and touched the swollen skin gently until she hissed. “How bad is it?”

“Tolerable, but it’s healing by the minute.” She avoided putting more weight on her leg, and shrugged. “It’s sore, but I can walk through the pain.”

His shoulders relaxed when he stood. He lifted his fingers to her face. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Her heart squirmed under the look he gave her, as if he wanted to maim anyone who harmed her. “I need to get moving to figure out where Tristan went. How’d you find me?”

He scanned around them while he answered. “I had some help. I gave it an hour once I left you around midnight, then I contacted Nicole and asked her to locate the amulet.”

Evalle hadn’t wanted to involve Nicole, especially since Nicole’s life partner, Red, didn’t like Evalle and hadn’t been happy about Evalle bringing Storm in jaguar form around Nicole two nights ago. “You woke up Red? She’ll give Nicole grief over this.”

Storm’s gaze stopped wandering around and met Evalle’s. “I’d have dragged Sen out of bed to find you if I’d thought I could make him tell me anything.”

How was she supposed to hold onto any anger when he said things like that? “But Nicole only put a temporary invisibility spell on this amulet when we borrowed it. I don’t understand.”

“I put a protection spell on the amulet the last time I saw you.”

That’s why the thing had been warming and glowing right before something had attacked her. Storm had been trying to protect her from a distance. “But how did Nicole determine where I was this quickly?”

“She used a scrying bowl to narrow the location of the amulet to this region, and I had access to a private jet.”

Who did he know with a private jet? But she didn’t want to waste time by interrupting.

Storm shrugged, saying, “I grew up in Chile and roamed all over this country. Once I got here it was just a matter of tracking you by the majik I used on . . .”

When his voice drifted off, his lips tightened into a frown of remorse.

But she’d caught his slip, which reminded her that she had a serious beef with him. “Speaking of the majik that changed my aura—what’d you do? It’s gold!”

He heaved a sigh. “I don’t know.”

“Wrong answer. Fix it.”

“Not sure I can, but you don’t have time for that right now anyhow if you intend to find Tristan. I’m assuming you had some plan in mind while traipsing around with him.”

That blasted Tristan.

Sure, he’d patched up her leg, but he could have teleported the whole time they’d been together. If he’d spirited them away from the demons, she wouldn’t have suffered a crushed knee.

And he hadn’t shifted. Had he been saving energy to teleport?

She let that go in favor of getting on the move. “Tristan
knows where the other Alterants are in Atlanta and agreed to help me locate them.”

“He was lying to you.”

“Maybe about helping me, but I believe he was telling the truth about the Alterants being in Atlanta.” Even though Tristan had lied by omission he hadn’t taken her dagger again or left her stranded, when he could have. She hadn’t figured that one out. Why had Tristan stayed with her? No time to waste on that right now. She glanced around, defeat closing in on her with too far to travel in little time. “Any chance you’ve figured out how to track teleporting?”

“No. If he was headed back to Atlanta, call Tzader or Quinn so they can start looking for him while we head back.”

“I can’t ask anyone for help, especially them. The Tribunal forbade it.” Then a thought struck her.

She hadn’t tried any of the gifts because she could only use them for the explicit reason of finding the escaped Alterants and bringing them in.

“What, Evalle?”

“The Tribunal gave me three gifts.” She got excited. “I think I know how to track Tristan.” In her mind, she had to find Tristan to locate the missing Alterants, therefore she could call upon a gift.

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

T
zader 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.