The Curse (41 page)

Evalle fussed at her hair again, which fell around her shoulders, soft against her collarbone and neck.

Thanking the driver, she dismissed him. If this didn’t go well, she’d call telepathically to Quinn or Tzader for a ride. Tzader had sent her a text that everyone had returned home from Treoir. He’d ended the message by reminding her about taking the time to heal.

Since he’d heard Evalle tell Brina that she could heal her physical injuries from the battle, had he been alluding to emotional wounds?

If this didn’t go well tonight, she doubted a lifetime would heal this wound.

Regardless of tonight’s outcome, she had to start making some decisions about her personal life. She might not be ready for the intimacy she’d seen in Storm’s eyes the last time he held her, but she had to take a step forward at some point soon—if he gave her the chance.

Crossing the veranda to Storm’s front door, she glanced at his boarded-up picture window. The one he’d crashed through in jaguar form to reach her before Svart trolls killed her.

He deserved a woman worthy of a man like him.

Not a beast.

Taking a deep breath of determination, Evalle knocked on his door and held that breath until it opened.

He stood backlit by firelight flickering deep inside his living room. He’d changed to jeans and a black pullover that only deepened the color of his skin. Freshly washed hair hung around his proud Native American face. He smelled of the night, a dark sensuality. She tried to memorize everything about him in case she never saw him again.

Storm’s face went from blank to confused. He stared at her from head to toe.

The brittle silence answered her questions.

She’d been an idiot to come here thinking he’d forgotten what he’d seen twelve hours ago. Longer than that since she’d procrastinated till almost midnight.

He hadn’t said a word and she couldn’t bear up any longer under his intense scrutiny, but she wouldn’t make this difficult for him. “I can see by your silence that you’ve changed your mind about dinner.”

She turned and took a step away.

“Do I get a chance to talk?”

How could she deny him? Besides, she doubted he could say anything that would hurt worse than losing him would. Evalle shifted back around. “Guess that would only be fair.”

“I’m angry.”

“I know.”

“First you kiss Isak.”

“I know.” But she’d told him that kissing Isak was not the same as kissing Storm. Completely different. When Storm kissed her, the world disappeared. She had nothing else to say to explain what had happened with Isak.

“I did as you wanted at Treoir and went with the team when I wanted to stay with you.”

“I know.”

“Then I had to watch you fight that demonic troll.”

“I know.”
You had to watch me turn into a monster.

“Is ‘I know’ all you’re going to say?”

She’d been wrong. She couldn’t go through this and not lose control of her emotions. “No. Yes. I can’t do this.”

She turned around again to leave and his hands settled on her shoulders. If another man had touched her right now, she’d have hurt him, but with her heart cracking she didn’t have the strength to fight. And she’d never harm Storm.

She drew in a raw breath and said, “I have to go.”

“No.” He wrapped his arms around her as if he thought she’d go running off. “I’ve been sitting here for hours getting angrier by the moment.”

“I can’t help what I am,” she whispered.

He made a noise she took as underscoring his aggravation with her. He said, “I
thought
I was angry when I saw Isak kiss you, but that was nothing compared to when you left Treoir without speaking to me first.”

“I couldn’t face you.” There. She’d admitted she was a coward after all.

“Now I realize you left without speaking to me because you thought I wouldn’t want you after seeing what you’d shifted into. That didn’t matter to me.”

Tears threatened to ruin Lanna’s hard work on Evalle’s mascara. She choked out, “Stop being nice, Storm. I saw the shock on your face when I was in beast form. I don’t blame you.”

He cursed. “When are you ever going to trust me? I was shocked that you killed the demonic troll. I went insane when Tzader had Beladors pin me down and came close to shifting. Do you have any idea what I was going through watching you almost die,
again
, at the hands of a troll and I couldn’t get to you?”

She took his words into her heart and dared to hope. “You really aren’t repulsed by what I turned into?”

He swung her around in his arms and brought her close, nose to nose. “You are the most beautiful woman between earth and heaven to me in any form. I don’t care what you can turn into … as long as you end up in my arms.”

A tear slipped out and ran down her face. He’d called her beautiful. Lanna would probably take credit for that, which Evalle had no problem with. To be thought of as beautiful by Storm, if only for one night, was like all her wishes coming true at once.

He lifted her chin and used his thumb to wipe away her tear. His sexy voice smoked over her. “Know what happens now?”

She smiled, shaking her head.

“My favorite part, where we kiss and make up.” Then he kissed her without restraint.

She’d come to realize how carefully Storm handled her, but tonight he opened the gates to his desire, holding her with fierce possession.

Was she ready for everything his kiss offered?

Would she disappoint him if he overwhelmed her?

What if—

He lifted his head and smiled at her. “Stop worrying and start trusting that I’ll never hurt you and never ask more than you can give. Can you do that tonight?”

“Yes.” She relaxed, willing to trust herself alone with Storm, and looked forward to spending time with him that didn’t involve trolls, demons, or teleporting.

That could wait until she convinced him to help her track down Tristan.

B
uilding a unique world with rich details often requires using unusual names and terms. These are sometimes fictional as well as being drawn from actual mythology.

Below is a list of pronunciations.

Turn the page for a sneak peek of

RISE OF THE GRYPHON

BOOK 4 IN THE BELADOR SERIES

BY SHERRILYN KENYON AND DIANNA LOVE

Coming soon from Pocket Books

D
ependable intel made the difference in either walking away alive from a dangerous situation … or not.

Evalle Kincaid stared down the rocky slope at bad intel.

She’d dug up one slim lead in forty-eight hours of racing to find Tristan, an Alterant like her, right down to his glowing green eyes. Except he hadn’t been gifted with her natural night vision, an ability she’d needed while hiking up this mountain in the middle of the night.

She muttered, “That’s no coven meeting.”

“No,” Storm agreed, his breath puffing white clouds against the chilly October air. He saw just fine, too, with preternatural night vision. “Looks more like a midnight festival for all things strange and dangerous.” Coal-black hair grazed his shoulders and blended into his black leather jacket. Soft hair she loved caressing. The coppery skin and sharp angles on his cheeks had been handed down through a mix of Ashaninka and Navajo genes, along with his Skinwalker ability to shift into a deadly black jaguar.

Evalle leaned forward where they hunkered down behind an outcropping of boulders, and searched the area fifty yards away where moonlight cascaded across a valley. At least twenty people—nonhumans—had gathered, and more were coming. “You see any female in that bunch that
might
be a witch?”

Storm shook his head. “Only male human forms so far. Not even sure what some of those things are that have both animal and human parts.”

One creature with an eight-foot-long orange lizard body, two sets of human arms, and a vulture’s head skulked through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea in front of him. Most of the beings meandered around a thirty-foot-wide circle created by torches stuck in the ground. A ceremonial circle?

Storm asked, “Think the goddess’ll extend your deadline?”

“Again? Not a chance. I was amazed when Macha gave me four more days.” That had been two days ago and Evalle had been given that reprieve from losing her freedom
only
because she’d defeated a demon Svart troll before it killed everything in its path.

Opportunities like that didn’t come along every day.

Good thing or she’d stay in perpetual traction.

But gaining a couple extra days of freedom from Macha had balanced out getting beaten to a pulp by the Svart. Macha was goddess over all the Beladors, a race of powerful Celtic warriors who protected humans who didn’t even know preternatural creatures existed. She’d offered sanctuary in her pantheon to all Alterants who swore fealty to her.

With a catch. Evalle first had to deliver the origin of Alterants, who were part Belador and part unknown. Since Alterants changed from human form into beasts that could kill even powerful beings, Macha wanted that
unknown
part cleared up before giving carte blanche freedom to Alterants.

And Tristan had that information.

But more than that, he’d helped Evalle escape a deadly enemy last week and gotten captured while doing it. She didn’t want to think about the hideous ways he might be suffering. Freeing him was her first priority.

All she had to do was find a witch called Imogenia who was rumored to have information on Alterants, Tristan in particular, and the location of Tŵr Medb, home of the Medb Coven of deadly Noirre majik practitioners … where Tristan was being held captive.

A sick ball of regret rolled around in Evalle’s stomach. She’d left Atlanta two hours ago with Storm to hike up the side of Oakey Mountain in North Georgia. She wouldn’t have gambled the time spent coming here if she hadn’t trusted the source.

“Damned ghouls,” Storm grumbled as if lifting her thoughts, his deep voice ending in a growl. He didn’t read minds, but he was a powerful empath.

“Don’t blame him. Grady can only repeat what he hears.” Evalle shifted on the cold ground to find a comfortable position. She knew Grady’s limitations. He was a Nightstalker—just another homeless person who’d died ten years ago on the streets of Atlanta. Now he was her best source of intel. Usually.

“When we do find Tristan, I want ten minutes with him
alone
before you hand him over to Macha.” A muscle played in Storm’s jaw, the only sign of his frustration.

“I need him
alive
,” she reminded Storm, though she knew he didn’t mean to kill Tristan, but those two couldn’t stand in the same zip code without the threat of blood being shed. “I need
every
Alterant I can find. As it is, Macha is insulted that none have come forward to accept her offer. I have no idea where I’m going to come up with one other than Tristan.”

She released a long breath, disgusted. She’d been so sure this would be the break she needed.