Alterant (21 page)

“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.”

Tzader had also considered what had happened two years ago. He owed his life to Quinn and Evalle, who had been linked to him when they’d battled the Medb to escape. He’d suffered a fatal wound, which he’d survived only because neither Quinn nor Evalle would unlink even though they could have died with him.

Nodding, Tzader said, “I’ve thought about that. Conlan has the ability to split his image. He could have left
a lifelike replica at his home while he traveled to the Salt Flats the day we were captured by the Medb. The only way we’d have known was if we’d sent someone capable of telling the difference to interact with the copy at his home. None of us suspected him of anything back then, so that didn’t happen.”

“Good point.”

Tzader wished he had Quinn’s mind lock ability so he could be the one taking the risk. He’d been hunting the traitor every minute he could spare from his Maistir duties. When he did find that rat bastard he was going to make him regret the day he was born.

Quinn flexed his hand. “It’s been a while since I probed someone’s subconscious this deeply, and, if you recall, the last time ended in less than ideal results.”

“That’s a diplomatic way to say the guy stroked out during the session,” Tzader joked. “He was a troll convicted of eating a human family. If you hadn’t gone that deep we’d have never found where his sidekick was hiding. Saved a pile of lives with that get.” Tzader scratched his chin. “And imploding his brain wasn’t your fault either.”

“If I hadn’t opened a path for the demonic spirit hunting the troll to reach through and take control of his mind, the troll would have survived.”

Tzader started to question his friend’s barometer for justice when Quinn added, “Don’t get me wrong. I have no sympathy for a psychopathic predator. I just believe he deserved a far less humane punishment than a quick death.”

But something had Quinn more contemplative than usual. Tzader asked, “You think something is hiding in Conlan’s subconscious?”

“Not really,” Quinn said, still sounding distracted. “He’s a decent man and a loyal Belador. He’s . . . I don’t know. Just thinking out loud.”

“I know. I don’t like either one of you doing this.” Tzader turned to peer out the window at people scurrying along Peachtree Street, oblivious to the potential threat. He hated not being able to warn the public, but humans couldn’t contain the fog if VIPER couldn’t.

Panic would only add to the crisis.

If the traitor was tied to the Alterants in any way, Brina was right to push for an answer now, but Tzader wanted to give Quinn one last chance to step aside. “It’s your decision, but keep in mind that I need you out in the field helping us fight this fog and beasts more than I need you in here taking this gamble.”

Quinn held up his hand. “I couldn’t allow someone else to try this. We’ve never had a druid who can match my ability to mind lock. And even if a druid searched Conlan’s mind first and didn’t find anything, I would still have to probe a second time. That would force Conlan to endure the mental plundering and risk twice. Besides, there’s only danger if we’re wrong about his being innocent.”

Tzader understood all that on a logical level, but the “what if” factor still hung in the air. Evalle wouldn’t forgive him if Quinn came out of this with scrambled brains . . . or dead.

And he wouldn’t deserve forgiveness.

Thinking of her, Tzader asked, “Have you heard anything on Storm once we split up last night?”

“Can’t be found.”

Tzader cut a sharp look at Quinn. “You mean like not-in-the-city gone?”

“Yes. You said Evalle learned about the Alterants shifting from Storm. I’m thinking they spoke on her way to the Tribunal meeting last night. I touched base with Devon Fortier this morning before I left for D.C. He’s investigating a troll operation tied to the local sting I’m running and had a team following a lead at the Amtrak station last night. They needed a tracker. He tried reaching Storm for almost two hours before Storm appeared close to midnight.”

“Any chance Storm mentioned seeing Evalle, or if he knew about her being attacked on the way to the Tribunal meeting?”

“I did inquire. Devon said Storm tracked down one troll in record time, then disappeared. Storm didn’t say a word about anyone. No one has seen or heard from the chap since.”

Tzader slammed his fist into his palm. “That had to be why Evalle was running late coming to Woodruff Park. She probably got waylaid by him.”

“True, but she’s a big girl even if we think she’s still that skinny little warrior we had to force to stop using a storage room as an apartment.”

“She’s naïve when it comes to men.”

“Inexperienced, maybe,” Quinn argued, then his voice dropped into a solemn tone. “But I doubt she’s naïve.”

Tzader understood Quinn’s meaning. Having observed Evalle for the past couple of years, they’d agreed that she might have suffered beyond being locked in a basement for eighteen years.

Someone had harmed her physically.

She was powerful enough to defend herself against any human, but humans weren’t his concern at the moment.

“I see your point,” Tzader admitted, grinding his fist harder. “But that doesn’t mean she’s ready for someone like Storm.”

Quinn gave a bark of laughter.

He spun around. “What?”

“You sound like an overbearing father. We can’t protect her from everything.”

Tzader muttered, “We can from a few hard tails—”

Quinn turned serious. “I’ve watched him the few times he’s been around her. I think the greatest danger is to someone who threatens her. Which reminds me, did Sen indicate he knew anything about the attack on Evalle, since he had to have shown up at the same time?”

“No, the prick stonewalled when I asked. Said he couldn’t discuss Tribunal business.”

“One of these days . . .,” Quinn started, eyes thinned with malice.

A knock at the door turned Quinn’s attention. “Come in.”

Conlan O’Meary entered the room, first nodding at Tzader, then noticing Quinn. The young man had filled out his lanky frame with whipcord muscle. His half-inch-long light brown hair stuck up on top, similar to styles on most of the young businessmen Tzader had passed coming
into the building. Wireless glasses warmed his gray eyes and toned down the lethal air he’d exhibited in training.

Right now those eyes were doing a jam-up job of hiding the debate that had to be going on inside Conlan’s mind at his realization that no druid was present.

Any Belador would expect a druid to normally perform a mind probe, but druids could occasionally be fooled.

Not Quinn.

With a hint of regret in his voice, Quinn offered Conlan, “You may withdraw your consent to do this if you’d like.”

But all three of them knew that would mark Conlan as highly suspicious.

Shaking his head, Conlan broke out a grin that screamed innocent. “I got nothing to hide. Knock yourself out.”

Tzader hoped he was telling the truth and was not the same type of brilliant actor Conlan’s father had been for all those years. So brilliant that no Belador had realized he’d been selling out his people to the Medb.

SIXTEEN

S
torm wanted the ability to teleport. Evalle had never been this responsive or allowed him to hold her so long. Good thing the spinning was ending and their feet touched solid ground. He couldn’t keep his body from reacting when he had her in his arms.

If he had any doubt about when she transitioned back to reality in Atlanta, Evalle cleared that up when she shouted,
“Suuunnn!”

He twisted his neck to see what was behind him.

Her sensitive eyes hadn’t adjusted as quickly as his. That bright light bearing down on them was not the sun, but almost as bad.
“A train!”

He shoved her up against a concrete wall seconds before a MARTA subway train barreled through the narrow tunnel just inches behind his back. The wheels clacked against the tracks in a deafening roar, and a torrent of wind sucked in behind when the last car whizzed past.

But, hallelujah, they had arrived in a dark tunnel. Underground, where the sun couldn’t harm Evalle.

Might take a few minutes to get his heart back under control, though.

He should have been prepared for landing in any location. Like broad daylight on a Friday afternoon
or
in the middle of a train track.

She’d distracted the hell out of him, but catching her with her guard down long enough to taste those sweet lips had been . . . damn fine.

Her hands came up between them so fast that Storm didn’t have a chance to move before she shoved hard enough to send him flying across the tracks.

His back slammed the concrete wall on the far side and he slid down. Out of fighting instinct, he landed in a crouch. He twisted his head back and forth to clear the stars in his vision and groaned.

She was damned strong when she drew on her powers.

He shook off his aches, stood up and headed back to her.