Rise of the Gryphon (23 page)

Ghouls didn’t suffer wardrobe dilemmas.

She cocked her head at him. “Where’ve you been hiding, you old goat?”

“Where’s my bag?” His eyebrows waggled over warm eyes full of teasing.

She’d normally have a McHappy sack of hamburger, fries and water to drink, but Grady could be a tough negotiator when it came to dealing intel.
His
idea of a happy sack included a fifth of Old Forester. “I brought your favorite.”

At that, his keen eyes focused on the bag she gripped, and he wiped his mouth with his hand, alcoholic hunger glazing his eyes. “What do you want?”

Any other time she’d indulge him and negotiate, but she couldn’t shake with Grady, even if he swore he hadn’t touched a Langau. She’d broken rules for the old ghoul once and shaken longer than allowed so that he could see his granddaughter get married. That had resulted in his being able to take corporeal form on his own sometimes, and for extended periods.

Seeing him translucent now stirred her pot of worry. “Can you take solid form?”

“Nah. Did it too much yesterday and ain’t been able to turn solid since. Just zoned out.”

Maybe that meant he hadn’t been infected. “So you haven’t shaken hands with anyone?”

“No, siree. I’m what you’d call primed and ready. I’ll give you a deal.” He stuck out his hand. “Shake and you git three questions. Kind of like a genie but you have the bottle.” He grinned at his pun.

“Can’t, Grady.”

His face fell. “Why not?”

“There’s an infection going around. Nightstalkers have been catching it and passing it along. VIPER has ordered no contact with Nightstalkers until they get it contained.”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” He scowled and stomped around. Silent stomping.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave the bottle hidden for you, but I need information.”

“Nuh-uh. Not givin’ up a word without a handshake.”

He could be ornerier than a junkyard dog. “This is important, Grady.”

“So is gittin’ my handshake. It’s the only thing important in
my
world. Why you stink?”

“Insulting me will cost you this bottle.” She waved the brown bag and bottle.

He jutted out his chin with his meanest look. “You tryin’ to make me mad?”

“No. I’m trying to get some help.”

“How come you got a dead smell about you?”

Now she understood. Evalle slid her sleeve up. “It’s probably this bone.”

Grady backed away, looking at her like she’d shown him a two-headed demon. “You got a
Volonte
attached to your body? Are you crazy? Get rid of that nasty thing.”

“I’d like to, but it’s locked on my arm. That’s why I need your help.”

He grumbled and floated a little farther away.

“Get over
here
and stop floating around.”

“Don’t be yellin’ at me,” he snapped, but he did move close again.

She grabbed her head. “Sorry. I can’t help it. This stupid bone takes whatever I’m feeling and amplifies that emotion or desire.”

“Then you better stay away from that Injun. I seen the way you been lookin’ at him.”

She locked her jaw to keep from telling Grady, again, not to call Storm an Injun or remind him that her relationships were none of his nosy business. When she could talk without shouting, she asked, “Do you know anything about the Achilles Beast Championship?”

His eyes went to the bracelet around her arm. “Nah.”

This was a waste of time. “Guess you can’t help with the infection either.”

“
That
I can help with.”

“Really? How?”

The old coot just stared at her. Evalle waved the bottle in front of him.

He scowled. “Saw a Nightstalker fadin’ in and out. She was jerkin’ back and forth.”

A sick ghoul. “Where is she? Did you see anything else that was suspicious? Storm says the host that’s infecting the Nightstalkers is something called a Langau.”

“If a
lawn
-gal is a demon livin’ in a dead body, then I know where
she
is.”

Tzader was going to love this. He’d texted Evalle with a message that Storm had contacted him and Tzader had
assigned Beladors to support Storm. All info had to be reported to Storm.

“ ’Bout two blocks over that way.” Grady pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the south. “Brunette walkin’ around all sexy lookin’ in a red dress and heels. You ain’t gonna miss her. She’s moseyin’ around, callin’ out for Nightstalkers.”

That was close by. How soon could Tzader get someone down here?

Grady wasn’t done. “Saw someone else sneakin’ around the same area.”

“Who?”

“Your Rambo buddy.”

Isak Nyght. She and Isak had an odd relationship. After she’d missed several commitments with Isak, his black ops team had kidnapped her to bring her to a cozy dinner with their boss. He’d kissed her a couple times, too. Once in view of Storm.

That hadn’t gone well at all.

Isak was the rare human who knew nonhumans existed, and he built weapons that killed nonhumans. He would blast the Langau into a million pieces with his demon blaster, and VIPER needed that antidote.

Evalle walked over to the wall along the right-of-way for the interstate and stuffed the bottle into a cubbyhole, telling Grady, “It should be safe until you can get to it.”

He grunted, clearly unhappy, but when he looked at her, his eyes filled with concern. “I don’t know what that Achilles Beast Championship is. You takin’ that Injun with you?”

No, but Grady was not a lie detector. “That’s the plan.”

“Good. He ain’t much, but he’s better than nothin’, I guess.”

She smiled. “Thanks for the intel. If I can’t come see you myself, I’ll ask Tzader to get word to you as soon as the infection threat is gone.” If she couldn’t get to Grady, it would be because she was dead—or in VIPER prison. Either was a distinct possibility, given the corner she was in. “In the meantime, don’t shake with anybody, okay?”

“I’ll be careful.”

On her way to hunt down the mystery woman in red, Evalle lifted her phone, then paused.

Text Tzader or not? The last time she’d seen Isak, he’d actually helped when VIPER had to battle Svart trolls, but Isak still hunted nonhumans, and there was no way for him to know the difference between VIPER agents and a nonhuman threat.

Isak might not understand VIPER trying to save a Langau. But he wouldn’t hurt Evalle.

She’d check it out first, then contact Tzader. Covering the two blocks quickly, she slipped through alleys, keeping her senses open for anything not human. When she came upon a flickering image of a Nightstalker hovering in the back of a closed-in alley, she saw what Grady had been talking about. Parts of a female ghoul—one shoulder, a leg and half of her head—floated into view and faded. She’d had frizzy brown hair and freckles at one time.

The ghoul moaned over and over.

Poor thing.

A noise at the entrance to the alley pinged Evalle into defense mode. She swung around and backed up to a brick wall, hoping whatever gushy stuff she’d just stepped in would come off her boots, because the smell would force her to burn them.

“Want a deal, Nightstalker?” a female voice called softly, heading into the alley.

Evalle eased forward to peek. The owner of that voice was an attractive young woman, a brunette who wore a red dress. The Langau Grady had seen? Probably. The infected Nightstalker started moaning louder and floating toward the Langau, which meant the ghoul was getting close to Evalle. Could the sick ghoul infect her?

Screw it. Time to text Tzader and call in reinforcements, because Isak wasn’t . . .

Boom!

Light exploded all around the Langau as it jerked from being hit. Eyes sank into her head and her fingers sprouted three-inch claws that curled. Her body sucked into itself and vaporized.

The female Nightstalker floated back and up, disappearing into a broken window.

Evalle leaned back against the wall, anger bolting up her backbone. That had to be Isak. She wanted to rip his head off. Literally. Grab that thick skull and use it for a basketball.

True friends are hard to find and should be appreciated,
a woman’s voice whispered through Evalle’s mind. Not telepathy. This voice had been popping in at all hours,
day or night and at the most inconvenient times. Evalle would like to know who the voice belonged to and why she shared her sometimes unwelcome nuggets of wisdom.

Just build a fence around my life and call it a supernatural wildlife preserve
. Evalle heard Isak’s last two steps before his weapon came into view. “It’s me. Evalle.”

He stepped in front of her and lowered his mega demon blaster, letting it swing from a nylon cord attached to his vest. Black cargo pants and long-sleeved black shirt beneath a loaded Molle vest. “Hey, sugar. Why were you hiding in here? You might have gotten hit by flying demon parts.” His blue eyes danced with mirth. He was big all over. Reminded her of a Mack truck dressed up to be a sexy man.

Evalle pushed off the wall. She flexed her hands, working to hold on to her control. “I wasn’t hiding. Did you have to do that? I needed those demon parts.”

“Why? Saw that thing shake hands with a ghoul, then the ghoul freaked out.”

“That
thing
in the red dress was a Langau. We don’t know how many are in the city, but they’re spreading an infection.”

“Then you should thank me, not complain.”

“I would, but VIPER needed that one. We have sick agents and need to capture at least one for the healers so they can create an antidote.”

“Oops. My bad.” He didn’t sound the least bit repentant, because he’d only recently decided to allow
some
nonhumans to live. There was a time when Isak hadn’t
known VIPER existed and thought all nonhumans were a threat to humans.

He
had
pointed a weapon at her once with intent, but they’d gotten past that. She just wasn’t sure where they stood now because of that last kiss he’d given her.

Which reminded her . . . “Meant to get your demon blaster back to you.”

“No rush.” He smiled during the pause. “Bring it when you come to dinner.” He stepped up close and ran his knuckle over her cheek. His sandalwood cologne blended nicely with his natural male scent, especially when he was warmed up. Heat rushed into her cheeks and down her neck, into her body. Energy sizzled between them even though he was all human.

All male. But he wasn’t Storm, who would go all alpha right now if he saw how close Isak was to her. In fact, Storm had agreed not to harm Isak as long as Isak kept his hands off her, which he wasn’t doing.

She opened her mouth to ask him to stop and Isak’s finger touched her lips, stalling the words. Evalle, queen of avoidance. She wasn’t sure what to say, but she could not let him think they were going anywhere with this strange chemistry between them.

He leaned down to kiss her.

She jumped back, bumping into the wall.

He propped his hands on his weapon in a casual pose. “Something you want to tell me?”

Yes, but you aren’t going to like it
. “I’m involved . . . with someone.”

Isak said nothing for a moment. “How involved?”

She lived on edge every minute right now, waiting to meet Storm in the bedroom. Too much information. “Very.”

“What about our dinner?”

She’d given her word to his mom for dinner, which had morphed into a commitment to Isak when he’d helped out with fighting the Svart trolls and hadn’t killed any of her nonhuman friends. Plus Evalle owed Isak’s mother, Kit, for keeping Kardos and Kellman after they’d been saved from the Svarts. Kit had offered to care for them until Evalle could pick up the twins, so the boys didn’t have to live on the streets.

Evalle’s debt just kept climbing. “I’ll come to dinner, but I need a little time. I’m . . . busy.”

Isak was giving her the silent treatment.

“Look, Isak, I appreciate everything you and Kit have done to help with the weapon and the twins. I do, but I would not be honest with you if I kissed you right now.” He nodded and she felt relief flood her muscles. “If you find another Langau, will you please call Tzader?”

She got another nod. This was going better than she’d have thought a moment ago.

Then Isak stepped close to her and sent her blood pressure soaring when he lowered his lips next to her ear. He whispered with total confidence, “I’m not afraid of competition. I’ll see you for dinner, and I’ll be around in the meantime.”

Then he sauntered out of the alley.

And she had to report this incident to Storm.

I
compel you to . . .”

Kizira’s stomach muscles clenched as she anticipated Flaevynn’s next words. Why was she dragging this out?
Just say it.
Then Kizira could start working on a way around the compulsion spell.

Cathbad had been right about one thing.