The Curse (4 page)

As per Tzader’s orders that were still flowing telepathically through her mind, she lifted her hand and slapped the beast with a mild kinetic blast to get his attention.

That worked, aggravating him.

He stumbled back a few feet, shaking his oversize head, which had two holes for a nose and a mouth big enough to fit a human head in one bite. Fuzzy hair stuck up across his scalp in a Brillo-pad Mohawk. His forehead hung like a canopy over soulless eyes. Thick arms had ripped his multicolored shirt, and three fingers on each hand curled with sharp claws.

Evalle had to get him moving before the other humans saw him. She taunted the beast, “Come on, you ugly dog. You gonna let a woman kick your butt?”

Tzader’s orders kept pouring through her mind as he directed the team, then he told her,
Evalle,
once the Rías charges you, run toward that patch of trees on the west side of the field.

Evalle glanced away just long enough to make a mental note of the distance. A good hundred yards away.
Be ready when I get there.

We will
.

Tzader and four Beladors would be waiting to capture this beast … unless they were forced to kill it.

The minute Tzader withdrew from her mind, Tristan’s voice snapped at Evalle,
You want a tip on the traitor or not?

The traitor? Could Tristan know where Conlan O’Meary was hiding? That would buy her all kinds of points with Macha.

About time she had some good luck. Keeping an eye on the Rías as the beast’s vision cleared and he focused on her, Evalle called back to Tristan,
Where—

A chain wrapped around her neck and tightened with inhuman power from behind.

The beast howled and rushed her.

THREE

E
valle shut her mind down to everything except surviving. She dug at the thick chain strangling her and focused kinetic energy into her fingers to keep the steel links from crushing her windpipe.

But in two seconds, the Rías in front of her would cut her to pieces with his claws if she didn’t block the attack.

Pulling one hand off the chain, she slapped a short blast of energy at the beast.

The chain tightened. Yanked her neck.

Stars shot across her vision. She gagged for air.

But the beast charging her bounced sideways, rolling over the ground.

She stumbled, dragged backward by the bastard trying to kill her. Her vision blurred. She risked splitting her focus for a second to send a quick telepathic burst.
Tzader … help!

No air. She was suffocating. Couldn’t force enough energy through her fingers to pull the chain away.

Was the chain charmed? What had ahold of her?

Fighting to stay conscious, she lifted both hands over her shoulders and clapped kinetically at whatever held her from behind, which sure as heck wasn’t a human.

Her attacker jerked from the hit of energy and stopped pulling her. His grip loosened.

Blood couldn’t circulate fast enough. Her head still felt as if it would explode any minute. She sucked in a hoarse gulp of air before the chain leash towed her backward again. Shuffling quickly, she stayed on her feet.

She stomped her next two steps, releasing blades hidden in the soles of her boots, then shoved a boot straight back, connecting with bone.

Her attacker twisted the chain and growled an unearthly sound, similar to one she’d heard trolls make. Even with Tristan’s distraction, no troll should have gotten the jump on her without her feeling his presence first. And she’d never battled a troll so unusually strong.

If every Belador weren’t fighting more than one opponent, she’d draw hard on their link for maximum strength and break loose. But that worked best when everyone fought the same opponent and could coordinate their movements.

She wouldn’t compromise another Belador’s defense by draining power from them when she didn’t know what the others faced right now.

The Rías beast in front of her had regained his footing. His body shook with fury when he came at her again.

She blinked at the blurry image and raised arms that trembled from her body shutting down. Defending herself would take her last bit of energy, and she’d still lose.

That left her only one thing she could do—protect her people and her best friend.

She dropped her mental shield briefly and called out to the Beladors in the cemetery,
Everyone unlink from Evalle … now! I’m in mortal danger
.

No!
Tzader shouted over her before she closed her mind again, prepared for the Rías to attack.

Her vision grayed. She couldn’t think, barely able to focus on three razor-sharp claws whipping toward her throat.

A split second before the Rías made contact, its head exploded, blowing chunks of gross crap all over her.

Who had done that?

The debris from the head bomb must have hit the attacker behind her, who coughed and made spitting noises.

The chain around her neck went slack.

She sucked in a breath and felt unexpected Belador power flood her. Her vision sharpened in time to see Beladors converging on her from all directions. They were focused on her, sending her more energy, but the nearest warrior was over a hundred yards away.

She couldn’t waste time waiting for them to get closer and squander the opening they’d given her to escape.

Gasping a deep breath, she gripped the chain, hunched forward quickly and dropped to her knees, jerking her attacker over the top of her body. He landed on his back, then leaped to his feet and turned on her as she stood. Everything from his buzzed black hair, pale skin and beefed-up body to the leather jacket and jeans looked human … until his glamour wavered.

All she needed for final confirmation that he wasn’t human.

She fisted her hands and sent him a double punch of energy.

His head snapped back with the hit, but he shook it off.

What the…? Was he a troll or not? She’d never known one who could take an energy strike that hard and still stand.

He snarled with a grin, wide mouth stretching with teeth that sharpened to points as a little more of his glamour fell away right before he charged her.

Bad decision.

The last three weeks had sucked, and her frustration level had boiled over with Macha’s visit. After holding back all week against human predators, Evalle wanted nothing more than to kick some nasty’s butt right now.

She met the troll halfway, whipping her leg in a high arc with a boot aimed at his head.

But he surprised her by moving faster than she could believe, ducking his head, and locking his hands together, then swinging his arms across her body as he raced by.

The blow to her middle knocked her backward and off-balance. Her stomach wanted to heave inside out, but she spun, staying on her feet so he couldn’t jump on her back and pin her to the ground.

A troll? Really? Who had trained this thing?

She pitched short, hard kinetic blasts at him that he dodged as she backed up.

The troll’s glamour faded more, exposing a slick head with dark-green-tinted skin cratered like bad acne on one side of his face.

Black and dark green tattoos covered the other half.

He walked toward her, but he had that chain in his hand again, whipping it around faster and faster until the links made a whining sound.

Tzader’s voice came into her head.
Wait for—

She shut her mind down to time her next move.

When the troll released the chain, she waited … waited … then bent backward at the waist, twisting to the side to avoid the chain as it spun inches above her face. The thick links slapped the ground behind her with a heavy
kathunk
.

The troll had used that only as a distraction.

He kept coming at her and got within two steps of reaching her with his mouth open to bite when she whipped her body from right to left, swiveling at her waist as if she intended to cartwheel away.

He adjusted, thinking she was running.

She didn’t run from anyone.

Using the momentum, she scissor-kicked her legs. The blades in her boot soles sliced horizontally across the troll’s forehead and beneath both eyes.

Landing on her feet, she swept around and punched the top of his head with her fist, knocking away the frontal lobe and half of his face. The air reeked with stink like a bad sewage drain.

The troll’s mouth locked in a silent scream as he fell backward onto the ground.

Tzader ran up to her, yelling, “Are you okay?”

She rubbed her neck and squeezed words out of her raw throat. “Yeah. But is that thing a troll or not?”

He didn’t look down at the body, just took a deep breath and shook his head. “You scare the hell out of me some days.”

As if the night hadn’t been full of enough surprises, her other closest friend, Vladimir Quinn, reached her next. She hadn’t seen him in weeks. Two men couldn’t look less alike than Tzader and Quinn. Tzader was an ebony Adonis sculpted of lethal edge and cut muscle that stretched his gray T-shirt at the chest, where fair-haired Quinn’s deadly air had a certain elegance set off by a black cashmere sport coat and crisp slacks. Only Quinn could look pristine after a battle.

Russian by birth, Quinn spoke with a British accent gained through an Oxford education. Right now that accent held undisguised fear, clearly for her. “How badly did he hurt you, Evalle?”

“I’m good. My throat will be sore for a day or two, but he didn’t crush my windpipe.” She took in Quinn’s narrow face, thinner now than when she’d last seen him. She hadn’t seen or heard from him in three weeks, other than a brief e-mail right after her release from VIPER prison, saying he was glad she’d been freed. Tzader had told her only that Quinn had gone away to heal from a particularly bad mind lock he’d performed for an investigation.

Quinn let out a gush of air and ran his hand over his hair. “I had no idea this was going on or I’d have tried to return sooner.”

“How long have you been back in town?”

“Just got in. I was on the way from the airport to my hotel when I heard Tzader’s call to arms.”

She wanted to ask him where he’d been and why he’d disappeared without letting her know before he left, but in her evil mood the questions would sound too much like interrogation.

Speaking of the reason she’d been in a foul mood for weeks, she hadn’t heard a word from Storm
either
, not since she’d gotten a vague e-mail that same night Quinn had vanished.

And Tzader wondered why she’d been so pissed off for days?

Storm had partnered with her on several VIPER missions … and had stirred up her emotions. She harbored doubts about whether the blunt e-mail she
had
received from Storm had actually been from him.

Maybe sent from Storm’s cell phone, but not typed by his hand. She couldn’t think about him right now. Not without risk of exposing how every one of the past twenty-two days had been a challenge to get through without giving up hope of ever hearing from him again.

Evalle shoved those thoughts away so she could function. She had another question for Quinn—something that had haunted her since the last time she’d seen him—but
that
would have to wait until a better time, too.

More Beladors crowded around them. Devon Fortier’s face popped up nearby. The Cajun was headquartered in Savannah, but Tzader had pulled in as many Belador assets as possible to supplement VIPER teams in Atlanta when the gang wars erupted.

Devon whistled low and made an
mm-mm
sound. A female operative at VIPER once described his voice as a night wind sneaking through the backwoods of Louisiana. Devon wore his sun-streaked golden hair pulled taut in a ponytail, but a wavy strand had escaped and dangled over his forehead. The perpetual shadow on his cheeks and strong jaw gave him a devil-may-care appeal … for a woman who welcomed trouble.

He sent a sly look at Evalle and said, “Another Kincaid massacre. You’ve been on a tear this week.”

“Hey!” She regretted trying to yell at him, swallowed and said, “I didn’t do
all
of this.” She
had
been taking her frustration out on a few gangers and trolls, but just like tonight’s carnage, she’d only inflicted injuries as a result of self-defense. “Is everything under control? Any of ours hurt?”

Devon wiped sweat off the side of his face. “No, our people are good. We had the humans contained when Tzader sent us this way to set up an ambush for the Rías. Most of the gangers ran. I put some Cajun mojo on the others to keep them in La La Land until cleanup gets here to wipe their minds.”

Not sure what power or majik Devon possessed, Evalle just nodded, glad the Beladors hadn’t been injured while linked to her. “Who killed the Rías?”

“That would be me, my dear,” Quinn admitted with a hint of disappointment in his voice. “None of us was going to reach you in time, so I …”

“Used your mind lock … and blew up his head?” she finished, hating that he’d had to use extreme force for her. Quinn had an unusual ability to mind lock with other beings, and could damage or destroy a mind, but he kept his power under a tight tether and had never before physically exploded a head that she knew of. Plus, he couldn’t use deadly force through his mind lock unless he received prior approval or was under mortal threat himself.