Rise of the Gryphon (6 page)

Imogenia hissed in reply. “Fool.”

Everyone around the ring quieted, leaning in, watching to see what Bernie would do.

Imogenia didn’t appear bothered by Bernie’s passivity. Why? Then it hit Evalle.

Because Bernie wasn’t really passive. Not in his beast state. He just needed prompting.

When he shifted into an Alterant, Evalle figured out too late that this was all part of Bernie’s act.

Imogenia bared her teeth and shouted, “
Now!   
”

B
ernie lunged at Storm. A towering mass of beast that could crush a jaguar.

Evalle only saw a dark blur, Storm moved so fast.

Where his jaguar had been standing still as death, he leaped away just before Bernie the Alterant slammed to the ground facedown with the force of a building being knocked over.

The jaguar snarled a roar and pounced on Bernie’s back. Huge jaws clamped around the Alterant’s neck. Bernie jerked twice, then didn’t move.

Cheers went up in the crowd.

Imogenia screeched, “
Noooo!   
”

Evalle locked her legs to prevent her knees from buckling with relief. Storm had intentionally lured the Alterant in, using Bernie’s size and clumsy movements against him.

The Domjon howled with happiness. “Dual on the mountain for a prime-time show. Shifter one, Alterant
zeeeroooooo
. That’s a guaranteed pass to the big night.”

Evalle wanted to ask the Domjon what “big night” he referred to, but that would throw up one of those red flags of suspicion Storm had warned her about. She’d
learned enough about Beast Clubs for one night and just wanted to get Storm out of here before he had to fight Zymon’s behemoth creature.

But she still had to deal with Imogenia.

The witch lashed out at Evalle. “You killed my Alterant, you bitch. You’ll pay for this.”

Talk about screwing up a mission to gain intel.

Nothing to lose now by tossing the witch’s words back at her. Evalle said, “Shouldn’t have brought your second string. Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a first string.”

Imogenia vibrated with fury. She wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to keep from going for Evalle’s throat.

Bring it, witch.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” the Domjon cooed in their direction. “No loss yet. The shifter waits for his sponsor to call thumbs-up or thumbs-down. Either way, it ends the round.”

Imogenia snapped back to face the ring. “He’s alive?”

The crowd started chanting, “
Death, death, death!    
”

Was this what it had been like back during the days of lions in a coliseum?

Had Storm used his majik to put the Alterant into a semi-comatose state? Was that allowed? From where he stood with his jaws on Bernie’s neck, all Storm would have to do was rip apart the Alterant’s neck muscles and the head would fall loose.

But an alive Bernie just changed the game with Imogenia.

Evalle asked the witch, “You willing to deal to keep your fighter?”

Imogenia focused on Evalle, finally giving her the respect she should have from the start. The witch visibly fought to pull her emotions under control. What, exactly, had Imogenia so jumpy and on edge?

Imogenia stepped close to Evalle, even though the crowd noise covered their conversation. “What do you want?”

“Information.”

That drew a hard line across Imogenia’s pert lips. “Too vague.”

Time to gamble. “I’ll make this more than fair. I’ll give you back your Alterant if you answer all my questions
truthfully
about TÅμr Medb, the Medb Coven and Tristan. If not, I leave with both fighters.”

Imogenia’s eyes narrowed behind the mask. “What makes you think I know anything about those?”

“I don’t
think
. I know you do.”

Comprehension flooded Imogenia’s angry gaze. “That’s why you came tonight.”

Not a question, but Evalle answered, “Part of the reason. Make a decision. I have another commitment tonight.”

“Deal.”

Evalle waited as Imogenia told the Domjon she’d reached an agreement to spare her fighter. The Domjon reminded Imogenia she would not be free to leave the fight zone until Evalle gave him thumbs-up that the deal was satisfied.

Evalle called over to Storm. “Let the Alterant live.”

The crowd booed, but from the looks of this crowd there’d be more blood spilled before long.

All was moving along nicely until Storm turned demon-yellow eyes to Evalle. She had a disconcerting moment as he hesitated to step off Bernie. Was Storm caught up in a moment of bloodlust? Would she have to walk out there to stop him?

Did a sponsor do that?

He finally jumped off the Alterant and walked over to his jeans, where he shifted back into human form on all fours.

Evalle’s lungs relaxed. Storm had just been putting on a show for the crowd.

Imogenia called out to Bernie, but she spoke in a language Evalle couldn’t identify. After several moments of sluggish movements, the Alterant shifted back into his body, panting by the time he was done. He pushed to his feet, but with no clothes to put on he huddled into himself as he crossed the open ground to Imogenia.

She tilted her head at a spot behind her near the outer perimeter of the event area and ordered Bernie, “Wait for me by that tree.”

Once Storm had his jeans on, he swaggered back across the ring to Evalle.

He deserved to swagger after that win.

When he stepped out of the ring and turned to lift his shirt, Evalle gritted her teeth at the blood leaking from slashed skin on his back. Storm had some majik
and preternatural ability that allowed him to heal faster than a human, but she hated seeing him hurt.

Imogenia watched Evalle’s every move, so Evalle made a show of passing a clinical assessment over his body before she gave a dismissive shrug and turned her attention back to Imogenia. “Let’s find a secure place to talk.”

Leading the way, Imogenia picked a spot beneath several towering pine trees and gave Storm a pointed look when she asked, “What about your fighter?”

Dressed again, Storm took up his place next to Evalle and crossed his arms, a silent sentry. Evalle said, “He stays.”

“Very well.” Imogenia lifted her arms, whispering as she turned in a circle. When she stopped, she said, “I’ve used a spell to guard the others from observing us or hearing our words.”

Evalle turned to the witch. “What do you know about Tristan?”

“He’s an Alterant working for the Medb.”

So the Medb were feeding that lie into the rumor mills, huh? Evalle shook her head and scoffed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Imogenia toyed with a silvery-white strand of hair. “He’s building an Alterant team of fighters.”

Could that be true? “Alterants are harder to find than a trustworthy deity.”

“Tell me about it. Why are you looking for Tristan?”

Evalle could have shut down the witch by refusing to answer, but it was better to give her the information Evalle wanted repeated instead of leaving her to speculate.
“I’m going to be generous and answer your question in spite of owning
both
fighters right now.”

Tension stiffened Imogenia’s posture, but she kept her tongue still, waiting on Evalle’s answer.

“Tristan left in a hurry the last time I saw him, slipped away before he paid a debt I intend to collect.” Evalle cast a look over Bernie’s dejected form. “Where’d you find your Alterant?”

“Not far from here, but I don’t have to tell you where, since that wasn’t part of the
deal
.”

“In that case, let’s get back to what I want. Is there a way into TÅμr Medb undetected?”

Imogenia snickered. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Looks like we’re done then.”

“I didn’t say I
wouldn’t
, I said I couldn’t.”

Evalle turned to Storm. “Is she telling the truth?”

He gave it a second, then nodded.

Imogenia leaned forward, staring at Storm. “You want me to believe he can detect a lie?”

“Believe what you want, but lie to me one time and I’m walking away with your Alterant.” Evalle regretted having to leave Bernie with Imogenia, but Storm had taken this risk to get information she needed. She wouldn’t waste it. She’d search for Bernie later, once she got Tristan back.

At this rate, she’d need business cards soon for Evalle’s Alterant Rescue.

She continued her interrogation. “I heard you planned to trade your Alterant to the Medb.”

Inside the eye slits of her mask, Imogenia’s gaze narrowed with menace. “Who told you about that?”

That had been a guess. “Let’s revisit the fact that
I’m
not the one answering questions. How’d you intend to meet with the Medb if you don’t know where TÅμr Medb is?”

“Same way as everyone else looking to cut a deal,” Imogenia said with a wave of her hands, indicating this was common knowledge. “At the ABC.”

Evalle debated admitting she didn’t know what Imogenia referenced, but the minute Evalle left this venue she lost her best shot at intel. Go strong or go home. She raked a hand over her head. “ABC?”

“You don’t know?” Imogenia enjoyed a smug moment. “The Achilles Beast Championship.”

“Championship fights. Where? When?”

Time slid by as Imogenia debated something. “Tomorrow night. Cumberland Island.”

Three hundred plus miles away, just off the southeast corner of Georgia, but Evalle would gain more information by sounding unfamiliar with the area. “Where’s that? We’ve just arrived from Brazil a couple days ago.”

Imogenia nodded and seemed to relax. “I was wondering why I hadn’t heard about you . . . or
him
around the beast fights. Can’t be too careful these days.” She explained about accessing Cumberland Island by ferry from a town called St. Marys at the farthest southeast corner of Georgia on the Atlantic coast.

Evalle cast a look over at Storm but spoke to Imogenia.

“Is that what the Domjon meant by the big game?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the buy-in for the ABC?”

“They want strong competition. Sponsors of dual forms and Alterants need a Volonte as buy-in, but any Alterant
without
a sponsor gets in for free. All others negotiate at the door.”

“What’s a Volonte?”

“I didn’t agree to be your private tutor on all things powerful.”

Evalle let silence fill in the next moment until Imogenia made a noise in her throat that sounded like rocks being ground. “Volonte are bones from the grave of the sorcier Guillory.”

“And,” Evalle prompted before she strangled the witch for feeding out information in tiny pieces, “who was this sorcerer?”

Imogenia made a dramatic show of “whatever” with her hands. “Guillory died in France in the tenth century. When his followers stole his body and reburied him, many thought it nothing more than grave robbers who were after the spell-casting rings he wore on his hands. That was until just over a year ago, when an archaeological dig uncovered his grave and identified him by the rings bearing the Guillory crest. Then his body disappeared again several weeks back. Those of us who
are
informed know his body was stolen for the bones.”

Those of us
meant dark witches. Evalle turned to Storm, who drew in a slow breath, then nodded. “She’s
telling the truth.” But he clearly didn’t trust her. “What makes these bones valuable?”

Imogenia looked to Evalle, who shoved the look right back at her. “Answer his question.”

No doubt surprised at being addressed by someone the witch considered nothing more than a glorified slave, Imogenia shrugged it off. “Any of his bones have power, but the ones from Guillory’s hands still carry
his
power. In the hands of a skilled owner, a Volonte provides power over spirits and demons. For example, if I wanted to speak to the dead, the bones of his index finger would give me the power of necromancy. Guillory delivered kingdoms to kings . . . until he slept with a ruler’s favorite mistress.”

Imogenia sliced a finger across her neck. “Heads roll when that sort of thing happens. Guillory’s body was found headless.”

Evalle didn’t care about a sorcerer who couldn’t keep his pants zipped, tied or whatever they did back then. “How many of those bones could be floating around?”

“Not many, since they’re illegal to trade.”

“Then they can’t be expecting a high turnout at the ABC.”

“Oh, but they are.” Imogenia preened at being the one in the know. “With the Medb making a show and cutting deals prior to the matches, they expect a very high turnout.”

If not for the excitement buzzing in Imogenia’s voice, that would be great news about finally locating a concentrated group of Alterants.

“What’s the payoff for an Alterant sponsor?”

“Plenty if my Alterant makes it to the final round.”