Deadly Promises (32 page)

She gripped both hands around the invisible arm holding her and bared her teeth. “You’re dying first, just to kick this party off on a high note.”

The blunt-nosed warlock smiled and squeezed tighter, drawing tears to her eyes.

Using her kinetic ability, she knocked the torches into the dirt, killing the flames. The warlocks howled in anger.

She shouted
Ready?
to the Beladors.

Tzader and Quinn broke free of their shackles, drawing the other three warlocks around to face them.

Battle screams ricocheted off the walls, gathering force like the wail of a banshee.

Pulling in opposite directions with each hand, Evalle snapped the force holding her throat. The warlock screamed in agony, his arm falling uselessly to his side. Released from his power, Evalle dropped to the dirt floor. Blunt-nose snarled with pain and dove at her. She shoved her hands up, palms out, blocking him with shield of power. He bounced back, falling to the ground.

Kizira swayed, caught in a deep trance.

Evalle stomped each foot and silver spikes with razor-sharp tips shot out from around the boot soles. She took a step toward Tzader who fought two warlocks.

Quinn snapped the neck of the Medb he battled, tossing the body aside quicker than yesterday’s trash then snatching one of Tzader’s opponents away.

The warlock Evalle had knocked out gained his feet. He charged her, his mouth opening wide to release demonic curses on a stream of black breath.

She spun, whipping her boot high, the lethal tips slicing his neck like a buzzsaw. Purple liquid bubbled from the mortal wound, filling the air with a soured orange stench. Evalle whipped her boot up again in a crosskick. The warlock’s head flew off sideways, hitting Kizira in the chest. That jolted the priestess out of her trance. Her glazed eyes started clearing.

Oops.

Evalle swung back to the fight, but she couldn’t jump in kicking and risk killing the Beladors who now fought the only two warlocks still alive. Of the two dead, one lay facedown on his chest with his head spun around to stare at the ceiling.

Tzader battled a warlock armed with a three-pronged sword he hadn’t possessed a moment ago.

Quinn blasted the fourth warlock backward with a shot of energy, then produced three Celtic Triquetra with jagged blades and threw them with deadly accuracy. The blades struck the warlock in his throat, heart, and eyes, killing him instantly.

“Not my brother! No!” Kizira screamed. She looked at Quinn, her agonized face a mix of shock and betrayal. When the priestess lifted her hands at Quinn, Evalle dove at her.

Quinn shouted,
“No, Evalle!”

She slid to a stop at the side of Kizira who froze in mid-motion with arms extended, eyes stuck open, full of fury.

Quinn appeared next to the priestess. “I’ve locked her mind, but I can’t hold her long without harming her.” He cut eyes teaming with sadness at Evalle. “Help Tzader.”

She nodded then felt a blow to her midsection and doubled over. Quinn groaned but held his position with his back to the room. When she turned to Tzader she found him on the ground, the three-pronged spear staked through his chest.

Tzader looked over at her. His face twisted with pain.
Unlink… before I die and leave me
, he called into her mind.
You can’t kill this one
.

Evalle looked at the last warlock who laughed in triumph until he eyed Kizira immobilized. That’s when the eyes on the serpent tattoo on his head came to life. That meant he carried the same blood as the Medb High Priestess.

We stand together or we die together
, Evalle told Tzader.

Agreed
, Quinn confirmed on a gasp.
But I can’t help you and hold Kizira immobile
.

Evalle faced the warlock. Intimidation played a role in every battle won. “You don’t look so hard to kill.”

The warlock whispered a chant, lifting his hands to his lips and blowing across the palms. Both hands tripled in size, extending into claws. He swiped one long talon at the nearest wall, digging a trough through stone that crumbled as though cutting butter with a cleaver. He crooked the same claw, smiling when he goaded her to attack.

Well, crap. She hadn’t really expected to get out of this mess without facing this decision. But she’d only shifted once—part way—and that had been a reaction to terror. Returning to her normal physical state had been a struggle.

No time to worry about what might happen.

It was time to live…

Evalle mentally reached inside herself, deep into the core of her life source. She urged her body to free itself. Power rolled through the center of her, surging into her legs and arms. Bones cracked and popped, skin stretched tight. Her clothes split, shredding into tatters that fell away from her body.

Quinn would get an unobstructed view of all her assets later if they survived this. Leather ripped with a squeal when her feet thickened, toes growing the length of a human hand. Her jaw expanded to accommodate a double row of teeth that sharpened into jagged fangs.

Nerves and tendons cried out in pain, but she roared, now able to stare down at the warlock from ten feet off the ground.

He dared to laugh then threw a ball of energy at her.

She batted it away, blowing a hole in the rock wall.

The warlock cocked his head, still smiling, but with a little surprise. He flew at her, arms drawn back to swing a clawed hand at her neck. Before he could sever her head, she blocked him, using an oversized arm that sizzled with unspent power.

He bounced back, stunned for the two seconds she allowed him to live.

She curled her leathery fingers into a fist and smashed his face, slamming him backward to the wall where his body clung, shaking. Bolts of energy popped and sparked around him before he dropped to the ground. When she stepped close to the warlock he gasped, “You shall pay for this. I call upon the gods of—”

She lifted a foot heavy as two cement blocks and slammed down on his midsection, crushing him into two halves.

His last breath screamed out of him, a sound of agony Evalle never wanted to hear again.

Brilliant orange light blanched the inside of the cave. His body foamed purple then disintegrated into a puff of brown smoke. A sure sign he was Medb royalty.

Evalle took several breaths, calming the power pulsing through her. She begged her body to pull back into itself now that they were safe. Each breath she drew forced another part to tighten and shrink, but hallelujah, she was reversing the change. Sweat covered her skin. Pain daggered her arms and legs, sickened her stomach. Her head felt as though a stake was being driven through her temples, but she’d end up facing worse if the Tribunal found out she’d shifted.

Feeling the last of her body return to human form, Evalle swung around to Tzader who lay perfectly still. When she reached him, she yanked the spear free. Blood gushed out the three holes. Ignoring her naked state, she dropped down on her bare knees and pressed her hands over the gaping wounds to stop the flow of blood. But she had no power to save him from all the internal damage.

“He can’t be dead, because we’re alive,” Quinn said in a wheeze over his shoulder from where he still controlled Kizira.

“You’re right.” Evalle and Quinn had a chance to survive if they unlinked and escaped, but she couldn’t walk away from Tzader. He was not the traitorous Belador. If she unlinked, he’d lose the strength she still gave him. Her abdomen hurt, too, but… not as though she’d been stabbed. Why didn’t she feel like she was dying?

Could an Alterant linked to a Belador not die?

Tzader’s eyes fluttered.

“I’m here,” she assured him. “I won’t leave you.”

He gasped hard for air, chest heaving. His hand shot up to grab her arm with a strength that surprised her.

“He’s living… I feel him getting stronger,” Quinn said.

Evalle glanced over her shoulder at Quinn. “Me, too.”

“You can move your hand now,” Tzader told her.

When she looked down his face was robust with life. She pulled her hands away. The holes in his chest were shrinking. “What’d you do?”

Tzader sat up and stretched, then his shoulders slumped with the effort. “You saved my life, Evalle.”

“Oh, hell no I didn’t.” She stood up and backed away from him. “I do
not
have those powers.”

Pushing up to his feet, Tzader turned to her, politely avoiding her naked body. “You ought to grab a robe.”

She yanked a robe off the closest dead warlock, one of the three that hadn’t disintegrated, and shoved her arms through the sleeves. “Now. What happened to you, Tzader?”

He moved slowly, still recovering. “Best I can tell, the spear tips were made of lava from a volcano I’m not telling either of you about since it’s the only thing that can kill me. But the tips have to stay in place while I die a slow death. If you hadn’t defeated the last warlock and pulled out the spear I’d be dead.”

Beladors were not immortal, as a rule, as far as she knew. “Why can’t you be killed?”

When Tzader didn’t reply, Quinn did. “Might as well tell us. Then Evalle can share what it takes to kill her, too. I’m not leaving here without knowing more about both of you.”

She gave him an arch stare. “I think you two know all you need to know about me right now.”

Tzader shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m the descendant of a Belador who had me blessed, or cursed, depending on your point of view, and leave it at that, okay?” He walked over to Quinn. “Can we get outta here?”

“Yes. I withdrew the exit route from Kizira’s mind.”

Evalle stepped up to both of them. “I doubt she’s going to let us go without a fight once you unlock her mind.”

“I won’t kill her,” Quinn said with quiet conviction. “I can leave a blank place in her thoughts when I release her that will last maybe a minute after she comes out of this state. That’s enough time to reach the surface.”

“Then do it.” Tzader glanced at the wall still open. He whistled shrilly. Two spinning knives with Celtic designs on the handles flew into the room and circled him, landing at each hip. The tips of the blades snarled and hissed.

Evalle missed her boots more than her clothes, but she had bigger worries. She knew better than to believe these two would protect her secret unless they gave her their word. But what Belador would risk his existence
and
his family for an Alterant?

“We have to go now,” Quinn ordered, stepping away from Kizira who stood silent as a statue. He led the way, racing through a maze of dark corridors that climbed upward to the surface.

Tzader followed Evalle who kept pace with Quinn.

“We’re all good with keeping a few secrets, right?” Evalle was dying to know why neither of the men had commented on her shifting. She’d do anything to protect her tribe, but she would not go willingly into a cage again.

Not after spending her childhood locked away as a freak.

Tzader’s steps pounded close behind. “Let’s get outta here first, then talk.”

“You can talk and run,” she argued. “Admit it, I changed right back into my normal state. I only did it to help us escape.”

“It’s complicated, Evalle.” Quinn had led them with confidence, choosing turns without hesitation and running all out.

Until he reached a pile of rocks that blocked their path.

Everyone skidded to a stop.

Neither of the men made a move to clear the rocks and their minute of a headstart was close to ending. Evalle looked at them. “Let’s get kinetic, shall we?”

Quinn shook his head. “We can’t move these rocks that way. I pulled several chants from Kizira I believe are connected to this route, but—”

“But what?” Evalle asked. Anger mixed with fear inside her. “Start freaking chanting before your crazy priestess wakes up from her litte nap.”

“I might
kill
us if I use the wrong chant. And she’s
not
crazy.” Quinn’s tone told her his patience was strained.

An unearthly shriek right out of a B horror movie rocked the underground tunnel.

“Sounds like Sleeping Beauty’s awake.” Evalle stood, hands on hips, robe falling open.

“I liked you better when you didn’t talk,” Quinn snapped, losing all hold on his composure.

“I don’t like either one of you right now,” Tzader snarled. “Open the damn exit or we gotta kill one seriously pissed-off priestess.”

Kizira’s shrieks grew in volume.

Quinn faced the rocks and spewed out a rapid sequence of mumbo jumbo Evalle couldn’t begin to translate or remember.

Boulders started falling away to each side, parting to make an opening. Evalle took one quick look back to watch behind them for Kizira. Quinn might not want to hurt his evil-eyed honey, but Evalle did. If not for the Medb she wouldn’t be facing imprisonment—or worse—for shifting.

“Let’s go,” Tzader ordered Evalle, snagging her arm and dragging her through the opening.
“Seal that mother, Quinn!”
Quinn’s chant was lost in the sound of rocks piling in behind them.

When Evalle caught her footing she was aboveground.

In daylight. No shelter within a mile.

An August sun blistered the desert landscape.

“No!” She curled inside the robe, pulling the thin protection around her. Skin on the back of her exposed hand that held the robe closed started turning a nasty green color.

Tzader and Quinn shouted something, but her screams drowned them out. Heat scorched through the blood vessels in her arm and into her body, carrying the poison into her system.

She wouldn’t face imprisonment after all.

The sun would kill her first.