Rise of the Gryphon (22 page)

Storm hesitated, but he would have a tough time getting around a question that direct. “I ran into one up around Oakey Mountain when I met up with the witch doctor. She created the Langaus.”

Evalle swiped a fast look over his face and eyes. “Did you get infected?”

“Yes.”

“You have to go to the healers.”

“I’m good. Now.”

“How?”

“That’s why I didn’t answer your call. I can draw on my jaguar’s ability to heal, but to get an infection or poison out of my system I have to completely shut down into a deep sleep. My guardian spirit woke me when the fever broke, or I’d still be sleeping.”

When Evalle felt her skin getting toasty, she forced herself to ratchet down the urge to dismember the witch doctor. No time right now, but soon. “Why did she do this?”

“Don’t know.”

“Is there anything you can tell the healers that will help the Beladors and other agents?”

He nodded. “They have to treat this like a poison instead of an infection, because of the way it was created. I’ll talk to Tzader and the healers, but they need a live Langau to make an antidote.”

Evalle reached up to feel his forehead. “At least you’re not hot now.”

“Not there.” His lips twitched.

Now
she
was hot again and doubted the Volonte was solely to blame. “Thought you weren’t going to encourage me.” She gave him a wry smile.

He gave her a smoldering look. “Doing the best I can, considering, but it’s a struggle.”

She had a feeling if she looked down she’d know just how much he was struggling.
Stop thinking about touching him.

But how was she supposed to do that?

By talking about something that didn’t make her want to reach under his shirt and run her hands over his body.

Nothing came to mind.

Touching him would send her up in flames again.

A dark look passed through Storm’s gaze, then he shook his head at some inner thought and helped her out by talking business. “How many VIPER agents are infected?”

The infection. She could work with that. “I don’t know. There were a handful of cases by the time I left headquarters, but we’ve got agents who are MIA that
might be infected and unable to call for help. Speaking of help, they need your ability to track.”

“I can do that.”

“That’s great, but I have a message for you from Sen.”

“Oh?”

Lots of disdain in that one word. Evalle laid it all out for him. “He said you have until Monday to come back to VIPER, or he’s marking you as an enemy of the coalition. I don’t want you going back, but neither do I want to see the coalition turned against you.” Because if that happened, she’d be expected to hunt Storm and bring him in.

Wouldn’t do it.

Now that she thought about it, that might have been the reason Sen had been so happy. He’d figured out a way to force her into conflict with the Beladors and VIPER.

She’d write that on her worry list for later.

Speaking of worry, she still had to get Lanna settled, check on Grady, who she hoped was not infected, and ask if the old ghoul had any intel on the beast championship.

Storm shrugged over Sen’s ultimatum. “I’ll deal with Sen Monday.”

Evalle didn’t want to leave, but she had to convince Storm that all was fine, then get moving. “Thanks for helping them track those Langaus, especially now that I have my hands full with Lanna.”

He tossed a glance over his shoulder at the truck before his gaze returned to her with a challenge. “Is there something
you’re
not telling me?”

What kind of question was that?

One she couldn’t answer truthfully without giving away her plan. When all else failed, fake it.

Evalle dropped the don’t-screw-with-me face into place that she used when kicking demon butt and snapped, “What do you mean, is there something I’m not telling you?”

Please tell me Storm bought that.

Storm took a step back and raised both hands in a sign of surrender. “Easy. That came out wrong.”

Sold. She kept her jaw clenched to avoid grimacing over tricking him and just nodded her okay.

“You’re not trying to leave town without me, right?”

He was not part of her plan to enter the beast championship, but what could she say and not get caught in a lie?

“You want the truth, Storm? I
don’t
want you to go.”

When he looked surprised at her blatant admission, she drove on, hoping to sell this, too. “Bernie might have been a pushover for an Alterant, but others won’t be. I know you’re capable of killing pretty much anything you fight. The problem is that Alterants are an unknown entity. We come with a mixed bag of tricks and powers.”

“I have my own mixed bag of powers.”

Thickheaded man. She wanted to beat some sense into him. “I know. I saw you rip the head off a demonic troll, but you
knew
what you were up against. At the Achilles Beast Championship, you would face Alterants with no learning curve in your favor, because I doubt any two of them will be exactly the same. One bad injury
and you’ll be at the mercy of the next fighter. An Alterant has tremendous recovery ability in beast state.” She put her hands up to each side of his face. “Please don’t make me watch you get bloodied.”

A growl started deep inside Storm, rumbling up through his chest. His shoulders tensed with unleashed frustration. “I won’t be the one getting bloody.” He huffed out a sigh that blew fine hairs around her face. “Stop thinking I’m going to die.”

“So now you’re immortal?” What was it about men, especially alphas, that made them believe they were indestructible?

“Of course not, but you know I’m the best choice and I’ll survive.”

That burrowed under her skin and started irritating her with a burning need to have the last word. She crossed her arms and should probably leave this alone, but the harder he pushed her on this, the more she was determined to win. “If you’re not immortal, then technically you can’t say you won’t die, or you’d be lying. Right?”

He crossed his arms, too, and leaned down, shoving his dark gaze at her to make his point. “You don’t have an argument. Bottom line? You aren’t going inside that place without me.”

“Since when did you get it in your head that you’re calling all the shots?”

“Since you came back with that damned bone on your arm and no backup from VIPER.”

“That’s
my
problem, not yours,” she shouted, shoving up in his face. She needed this stupid bone for any hope of getting into the the beast battles as an observer and not revealing her Alterant status. Did he really think she’d give it up? “Bottom line? I’m not taking it off.”

“The hell you aren’t,” he blasted right back at her. He raised his hands in a sign of frustration and muttered, “You’re making me insane.”

She opened her mouth to give him another dose of her anger and he grabbed her shoulders, crushing his mouth to hers. A demanding kiss, so unlike Storm. One filled with both hunger and caring. After a moment, he moved his hands to cup her face, holding her in place, easing the kiss until he took her on a ride through heaven with his mouth.

Slowly, her anger simmered down, muscles relaxing under the onslaught of new nerves bursting to life. When his fingers smoothed over her face and down her arms, she dropped her forehead on his shoulder, content to just
be
for a moment in her life.

She let out an earthy sigh.

He growled near her ear, gripping her shoulders again. He eased her away from him, cursing softly. “We can’t . . . do this.”

“Why?” She blinked, trying to focus. “You’re blurry.”

Taking a couple of ragged breaths, he told her, “It’s the damn bone influencing you. I don’t want to increase the spell I wove around you, so work on calming your thoughts.”

She did, and once her breathing evened out, she could see him clearly, right down to the vexation on his face. “Sorry about blasting you just now.”

“No, this time the short fuse was my fault as much as the bone’s.”

Lifting her eyebrows at that, she asked, “Is the Volonte affecting you, too?”

Storm gave a harsh chuckle. “No, sweetheart.
You’re
affecting me.”

“If you don’t want to get your head bitten off, then just stay away from me.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” He reached over and touched her chin with his fingers. Warmth flooded his eyes. “You piss me off more than anyone else is capable of—”

“Careful or I’ll get all tingly,” she muttered.

“—but that’s not what has my animal on the edge of ripping out of my body every time I’m around you.” His eyes took on an unholy gleam of hunger. He leaned in close. “I’m out of my mind, wanting you so much it hurts, and my jaguar wants to be uncaged to release what I keep holding inside.”

“Oh.” What could she say to that?

He sighed and took another breath. “I’m not going to touch you until that armband is gone, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to feel your skin under my hands and to bury myself so deep inside you we turn into one. I want to taste every inch of you.”

Her breasts puckered again in total agreement with everything he was saying.

She grasped his hand, pulling it to her lips, then she kissed his palm and looked up to find a firestorm building in his eyes. She whispered, “I told you, the minute this bone is gone, it’s on. We’re on.”

He kissed her forehead. “Damn right.”

Smiling, she stepped back. “Tzader needs help now with this infection problem, and I hear you on the beast championship. Just give me some time to figure out what I need to do, okay?”

“I’ll have my SUV warded against the sun. You have to leave no later than four tomorrow to reach Cumberland Island in time for
me
to register to fight. Until then, I’ll get in contact with Tzader and help him find as many Langaus as I can before
we
leave.”

To avoid getting into
that
conversation with him again, she shifted the topic a little. “I have yet to find out exactly how to get from St. Marys to Cumberland Island.”

“Like Imogenia said, private boats. The host will have one specific dock where boats owned by locals capable of ferrying our kind over there will port in. Those captains will know where the drop point is for sponsors and fighters, and they’ll have instructions on how to reach the championship site. That keeps unwanted
guests
, like VIPER, from showing up.”

“Where’d you find out all that?”

Storm just smiled. “This is not my first beast rodeo.”

“You’re not going to tell me where to find the boat dock, are you?”

“I don’t have that yet, but worst case I’ll be able to locate it by tracking the others. So just remember that you
do
need me all the way on this.” Then he asked, “Where will you be until I pick you up?”

Another question that could trip her up.

Evalle hoped he wouldn’t press for more when she tossed her head at the SUV and said, “My life as a babysitter. The things I do for friends. I need to go feed her and check on Feenix.”

“What are you going to do about her for tomorrow?”

“I’m working on that. Thanks for helping Tzader.”

“You’re welcome.” He pulled her to him and kissed her one more time with enough heat to make her want to chew her arm off to get rid of the armband. When Storm lifted his head, intense dark eyes pinned her. “I’ll see you at four. Be. There.”

“I liked you better when you weren’t so arrogant and demanding.”

Storm’s lips curved up on one side. “No, you didn’t.”

He kissed her once more and strolled away, disappearing into the stairwell.

She’d be halfway to St. Marys by the time the clock struck four tomorrow afternoon and inside the Achilles Beast Championship before Storm could catch up to her on Cumberland Island.

Would that kiss be their last?

W
here was Grady? Evalle made another hike around Grady Hospital in downtown Atlanta, searching in every direction for the old ghoul, who could normally be found here at midnight. She refused to believe he’d shaken hands with a Langau.

It wasn’t as though he would die. He was already dead. But she didn’t want him caught in some torturous half state. She slowed along the quiet back street that separated the hospital from the interstate humming with light traffic.

“When’d you start playin’ Secret Service agent and drivin’ big black SUVs?” The deep voice boomed so close behind her that she flinched, then whipped around. Cool air brushing her skin dropped another ten degrees with the presence of her favorite pain-in-the-butt Nightstalker.

Grady’s translucent form almost took shape, faded, then came back as a thin old man with skin the color of brewed coffee. A week’s growth of whiskers stubbled his bony jaw that generally had a stubborn kick to it. He wore his usual red-and-black plaid shirt, short sleeves regardless of the season, and loose pants that might have been his Sunday best at one time.