Alterant (38 page)

He exhaled a ragged breath and dropped his forehead to hers, muttering, “I am six kinds of a fool for letting this happen here.”

“I . . . uh . . .”

He withdrew his hand. “Right idea. Wrong time. My bad, not yours.”

She mumbled, “Umm.” Her body had turned into one twisted and frayed nerve.

He set her away from him gently. “But once this Tribunal job is over and you’re free, we’re going to find somewhere private to finish this conversation. Dinner as a minimum.”

Her brain caught up to her body and jammed the pieces of what he’d said into a cognizant thought. She had never allowed any man to touch her since the attack. Not like that.

But strangely enough, she wanted to know what it would feel like to let Storm.

He had nothing in common with the man who had attacked her, but allowing Storm this intimacy hadn’t been the brightest idea on her part.

He’d think she was leading him on if she kept pushing him away. Could she let this go further now that Tristan had shown her how to tap her Alterant without shifting?

No one could flip a switch to erase a rape, but she was tired of being alone.

What about when she’d thrown him across the subway tracks earlier when he’d pinned her against a wall to protect her? And she’d made him feel bad about kissing her this time when it was her fault for kissing him first.

Any man would take that as an invitation, especially one as virile as Storm. Confusion cluttered her mind. She’d sort through her conflicting emotions later once she had some rest.

“Evalle—”

“Hey, we’re good.” She would not show an emotional vulnerability to anyone, not even Storm.

He wiped a hand over his mouth and shook his head. “Serves me right.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He angled his head to look past her. “How long does it take Tristan to teleport?”

She’d forgotten everything around her. A dangerous lack of attention in her line of work.

“No more than . . . a minute . . . or two.” She lifted her watch into view. It had been almost ten minutes.

Tristan had told her the other two Alterants had been
shifting while he’d teleported her to this side. She grabbed Storm’s arm. “He should be here.”

“Think he has a problem?”

“No. Adrianna was right. The bastard lied to me. He said he had a couple places to teleport out of there. He’s taking the other two Alterants out a different way. I’m going to kill him.”

“That’s the spirit.”

THIRTY-ONE

I
sak moved through his communications center, eyeing the multiplex of computer screens being watched for any sign of Evalle Kincaid.

She’d been right about using thermal imaging to target the beasts, but she hadn’t just guessed at that. She’d
known
the fog was cloaking the Alterants.

What else did Evalle know that she wasn’t sharing?

If she moved around this city, his men would find her.

His radio spurted a crackle noise, then, “Jones to base.”

Isak cued the mic on his radio. “What have you got?”

“Found a black Gixxer with a bad paint job. Gold underneath. Once I peeled vinyl off the tag it read EVLONE.”

Evalle’s tag and her Gixxer had been gold the last time he’d seen her. Isak said, “Location.”

His man gave him the coordinates in downtown Atlanta, saying, “Her bike’s close to the North Avenue MARTA station. That would be my bet for locating her.”

“Stay with that bike no matter how long it takes her to return. Let me know the minute it’s mobile.”

“Will do, but she handles that thing like a Daytona pro. She’ll spot me tailing her without a team
if
she doesn’t lose me first.”

“Understood.”

“Want me to tag the bike?”

Isak considered sticking a transmitter on her motorcycle and dismissed it as quickly. She might have a way of picking that up. If so, she’d abandon the bike and take off on foot, which would make it far easier for her to disappear. “No. The team is spread out across Atlanta. If we get a confirmed sighting of her, I’ll alert everyone to meet up. She might have left the bike as a decoy. I’ll put eyes on every MARTA rail station. You just stick with her if she surfaces.”

“What if she’s with someone or something else?”

Isak caught Jones’s “something else” reference to a nonhuman. The first time he’d met Evalle she’d been in the grasp of a demon he’d blasted with a custom-designed six-shooter. One of his many Nyght weapons. He hadn’t nailed down why Evalle dealt with nonhumans, but she was different.

She’d had a silver aura the first time he’d met her.

Tonight it had been gold.

He hadn’t known many auras to change and had never seen one like hers. Had she forgotten that he could see auras, or did she even know hers was different?

Nothing had turned up to confirm her as nonhuman . . . yet. He hoped that didn’t change.

For now, he wanted to find out who was after her and what else she knew about Alterants. He’d made the offer once before to make her disappear if she needed his help.

She’d declined.

If she had Tzader Burke on her trail, she might reconsider.

Isak keyed the transmitter and told Jones, “Pick your spot and snatch her. If a human interferes, stun ’em. Kill any nonhumans.”

What was Evalle up to that had Tzader Burke searching for her? She’d dodged that question tonight.

He wanted another shot at a straight answer. The best way to do that would be to talk to Evalle before Tzader found her.

THIRTY-TWO

S
torm stepped onto the up escalator at the subway station behind Evalle. She moved as though her muscles were pulled tight beneath the windbreaker he’d brought her to wear when the weather had turned vicious.

Her silence needled his guilt. Taunted his control.

Nothing rattled his steel reserve like she did.

He’d pushed the kiss too far, but he could fix that.

Greater problems existed, based upon what he’d learned earlier tonight.

His spirit guide could be a source of knowledge . . . or frustration. When the witch Adrianna hadn’t been able to answer all of his questions, he’d gone to his apartment so he could call upon his ancestors. A withered female shaman who wore her years etched in her ghostly face had answered his questions with mixed messages he’d had to unscramble.

The shaman had spoken of several things, including the female Ashaninka witch doctor, who, she said, was not today’s worry. But he hadn’t been able to decipher if that meant the witch doctor he hunted would be tonight’s worry or next week’s worry.

Precise time had no more relevance in these conversations than precise meaning.

Except for one warning his spirit guide had given him.

She’d said Storm would lose Evalle before he won her.

Out of instinct to protect her, he lifted his hand to place at the small of Evalle’s back, but he pulled away before touching her. If he’d kept his hands to himself downstairs, she wouldn’t be so tense right now.

Where had all the years of learning how to stalk a skittish prey gone?

You didn’t put moves on a woman who had been hurt by a man.

Especially when he’d caught the signs of sexual abuse.

But finding her beaten to hell and running late on top of the spirit guide’s warning had left his jaguar teetering on the edge of violence. Tristan had been wise not to return after dropping off a battered Evalle.

Storm shouldn’t have touched her with a dangerous animal raging inside him. At the sight of Evalle injured, his animal had reacted violently with a primal objective, demanding blood . . . or sex.

Had Tristan been there, Storm might have relieved his need for blood. Without that, his control had stretched until it was paper thin and taut as tight wire cable.

Evalle had picked a hell of a moment to take the initiative to kiss him for the first time.

Nice way to fracture what trust she’d allowed you, idiot.

When Evalle stepped off the top of the escalator and moved to the side, Storm was a step behind her. Thunder and howling rain waited for them outside the North Avenue MARTA terminal. The earlier thunderstorm had picked up strength, pounding watery fists against every surface.

Would something as simple as rain destroy the yellow haze attacking part of the country?

Evalle paused short of walking out into the downpour and turned to Storm, stopping him with a hand on his arm. “I think I know where Tristan is going.”

Between the roar of rain battering the concrete roof and the clatter of foot traffic going in and out of the station, this wasn’t the spot for talking. He guided her over to a wall that protected them from sheets of rain.

Storm spoke loud enough for Evalle but kept his head turned away to shield his words. “Where do you think Tristan’s headed?”

“To get his sister.”

“Have any idea where she lives?”

“Not specifically, but we might get close enough to track him. When we were on the way out of the maze, one of the other Alterants started to ask Tristan if they were going to . . . something that sounded like Deck-A. Tristan cut him off. I think the guy might have been saying Decatur.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down much and, unless you can teleport again, we can’t follow him.”

“I don’t think we need to teleport. Tristan’s power isn’t constant. He has to regenerate after drawing heavily on it. The battle with Kizira weakened him.”

Storm let his gaze slip past her to keep an eye out for threats. “You think he couldn’t get the other two out of the maze?”

“No, I think he
did
get them out, but that he can’t just jump again. He can only teleport one person at a time,
and it takes a toll on him. Also, he would want to avoid the fog. I think he may use the subway to transport all three of them to Decatur. If that’s the case, you could track them from the MARTA station where they exit.”

Storm would have to shift into his jaguar for any hope of carrying a scent in this rain. “How far ahead of us do you think he is?”

“Maybe not that much. The other two Alterants were shifting back into human form when Tristan teleported me out. He still has to get them out and dressed in clothes, then onto a train. Plus, they have to change trains in town.”

“You sure enough to go to Decatur?”

“I don’t have another idea and no time left with VIPER hunting us and this fog expanding.”

“What specifically happens when you’re out of time?”

“They’ll send Sen for me. The Tribunal turned an hourglass over. When the last sand runs out, the hourglass will lead Sen to me.”

How was he going to get her somewhere safe from that? He couldn’t, but if they found that pack of Alterants, the Tribunal would have to let her go, according to their ruling. “How far is Decatur?”

Thunder boomed. The rain pounded harder.

Evalle grimaced. “In this weather, maybe twenty minutes if traffic doesn’t bog down to a stop, but it shouldn’t be too bad this late at night.”

He gave her a look that suggested she’d forgotten how bad traffic could be anytime in Atlanta, especially when it rained.

“Traffic was nil when I came through. Kizira said the fog was going to continue to expand.”

“That confirms VIPER’s suspicion that the Medb are behind the fog.”

“If they know that, why aren’t they stopping it?”

“I don’t know. Wonder if the rain will help?”

“I doubt rain will make a difference. In fact . . .” She looked at him, then down, as her voice trailed off.

In spite of lecturing himself about keeping his distance, he couldn’t feel all that distress coming from Evalle and not touch her. He put a finger under her chin and lifted until their gazes met. “What’s worrying you?”

She tried to sound cavalier, but concern bored deep into her voice. “You mean besides not showing up with three Alterants, trying to make sure the two I might take in get a fair deal if I do talk them into it, or the end of the world in general?”

“What’s worrying you about
me
?”

“That the fog might cause you to lose control of your jaguar.”

Should he tell her why his jaguar wouldn’t hurt her? That he’d marked her with his scent before the Tribunal meeting so that he could find her? “I know my jaguar won’t harm you. If I lose control . . . let’s just say you should have enough power to stop me.” Only because he’d never fight her. “And I won’t blame you.”