The Curse (8 page)

E
valle curled the fingers on one hand, seething.

The whole time she’d been sick with worry over Storm, he’d been with that Sterling witch
.

Adrianna. A witch who practiced dark arts, oozed sexuality with every move, and had a voice like an erotic kitten.

She’d spent weeks with Storm. Alone.

And hadn’t said a word to Evalle.

That …
witch!

Tall and foreboding, Storm stood quiet as a night sentinel watching Evalle, and obviously waiting on the tempest to roll in. But he didn’t run from it.

She refused to let him know how much it hurt to find out the whole time she’d been trying to convince herself he wasn’t dead that Adrianna had been nursing him back to health.

Nursing all parts of his body.

“Evalle.”

She answered him with a glare.

“Why are you angry?”

“I’m not.”

Storm raised one eyebrow. That’s right. She’d just tried to lie to a walking lie detector. She couldn’t help it. Her heart burst with crazy relief that he was safe and still alive, but hearing about Adrianna felt like having a baseball bat slammed into her chest. And her heart. It blindsided her.

She’d never been in a relationship before—wasn’t even sure she was in one now. What determined if you were in a relationship or not? She didn’t know and was floundering trying to decide if she had any right to be hurt.

Maybe this wasn’t
that
kind of relationship.

Not if Storm trusted Adrianna as much as he trusted her, because in the past he’d called Adrianna only a friend.

Storm sighed, a deep, husky sound. “There is nothing going on between me and Adrianna.”

“Really? But she’s on the short go-to list for your spirit emergency line?”

“She was the only person I could trust, other than
you
, who would not tell VIPER about me. I’m not ready for anyone to know I’m alive until I find out if Sen knew I was the jaguar he tried to kill.”

Evalle considered not sharing her thoughts, but that smacked of pouting. “I’m pretty sure he knew it was you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because …” She struggled to hold her emotions in tight, but Storm needed to know the truth. “Sen held me in limbo long enough for me to see you bleeding and that you weren’t breathing before he teleported me to the Tribunal meeting that night.”

Storm covered his eyes with his hand. “So you thought for sure that I’d died?”

“Yes … at first. But I refused to believe it.”

He dropped his hand, eyes full of warmth after her admission. “I’m sorry he put you through that. I had no way to reach you until today or I would have.”

“What about the Barbie Witch? Adrianna could have called or you could have used her phone.”

His laugh sounded cynical. “She made it very clear that she agreed to help my guardian spirit, but she was not getting involved when it came to me, you and VIPER. She has her own issues and didn’t go into them. She had no phone, but now I think that’s probably a good thing. It would have been risky to call you since someone could have been listening in.”

“Why would someone do that?”

“Why would someone send you a bogus e-mail from me?”

He had a point. And who
had
sent that e-mail?

She needed time to process everything, including the part about Adrianna. On the one hand, Evalle didn’t care what it had taken to keep Storm alive and offered another silent thanks that he stood here before her. But on the other hand, she suffered bitter disappointment over another woman caring for him. Call it foolish, petty, whatever, that didn’t change the hurt tunneling through her chest right now.

Storm tilted his head a tiny bit, studying her. “We’re not discussing the e-mail anymore, are we?”

Don’t make me talk about Adrianna again, please.
That only made Evalle feel insecure, which pissed her off. Besides, she had to get to the Iron Casket so she didn’t miss Tristan. Lifting her arm to make a show of checking the time, she said, “I won’t say anything about you being alive until you tell me I can, Storm, but I have to go now to make a meeting on time.”

Storm didn’t move a muscle, but he vibrated with frustration. “That’s it? I tell you the truth and you’re angry?”

“I’m not angry.” She turned to her bike.

“That’s the second time you’ve lied.”

She pulled her jacket on and lifted her helmet, pausing to look at him. She would have done anything to see him alive again and here he was. How he got here shouldn’t matter. But it did. “You’re right. And to be perfectly fair, I have no right to be angry. I
am
glad someone was there to take care of you.”
Just wish it had been me
.

“Maybe I should take it as a compliment that you’re angry.” His eyes shone with a hint of humor that barely hid the tethered frustration. “I’m still expecting dinner.”

She’d pulled her helmet on and could pretend she hadn’t heard him, but that would be childish. Did she want to see him again? Absolutely. But she needed some time to get her emotions under control. “Let me get back to you on that.”

“We need a way to communicate.”

Just have your guardian spirit contact me since she chases down women for you.
Evalle bit back that reply. That wasn’t the truth and she knew it, but she’d never dealt with emotions like these and wasn’t enjoying it one bit. Which was why she needed some space. “You have my cell phone and e-mail.”

Storm stepped over to stand next to her bike. “Let’s not use cell phones yet. I set up a new e-mail account.” He gave her the address and the password.

“Why give me your password?”

“Because we’re not going to actually send the e-mails.”

“We don’t
send
them? How hard
did
your head hit that wall?”

He smiled, but his eyes were sad. “I’ve missed your smart mouth, especially your lips.”

When he said things like that and looked at her as if she were his favorite dessert, she wanted to kiss him again, which went to show how much this man jumbled her feelings. “You have thirty seconds to explain. I’ll be late if I don’t get moving.”

“Go into the server and open a new e-mail. Write my name and the date in the subject line, then type your message. When you’re done, save it as a draft. I’ll find your messages in the draft and leave one for you the same way. That way no one can intercept our e-mails or trace them.”

That sounded pretty cloak-and-dagger, but Storm had not been this careful prior to being injured, so he must have good reason to be so now. She’d lost a lot of sleep over his possible death. If this kept him safe, she’d do it.

That didn’t mean she’d have dinner with him.

She had too much to sort through right now and no time to waste figuring out her screwed-up psyche. Cranking her motorcycle, she reached up to lower her face shield, but Storm stopped her with his hand on hers.

Then he leaned close and said, “Plan on dinner … at my place tomorrow night. I’ll post the address in an e-mail draft.”

She waited for him to step back, then she dropped her face shield and drove away, glancing at her rearview mirror.

The sidewalk was empty.

Storm had disappeared into the night again.

After pushing her bike through yellow lights the whole way to the Iron Casket, she parked in an open spot far enough from the front door to study the lay of the land.

The pair of behemoth bouncers guarding the entrance missed little. With the boss they had, their lives literally depended on their performance. Even now she’d bet they were making a mental note of how long it took her to peel out of her jacket.

Last time she’d been here, she’d come close to a throwdown with the owner, Deek D’Alimonte, over Kardos, a teenage male witch who had foolishly taken an interest in Deek’s sister.

Committing suicide by torching yourself would be an easier death for a man than being caught sniffing around the sister of an immortal centaur.

Evalle had just barely managed to extricate herself and wisecracking Kardos from that tight spot. Deek hadn’t forbidden her from coming back, but he wouldn’t be happy to see her either. With a little luck, she’d slip through unnoticed.

She headed for the door. Tristan had picked a perfect place to meet. Deek allowed no weapons, and no use of majik or powers, inside his club. Tristan didn’t have to worry about being surrounded by VIPER agents or a battle with Evalle.

When she’d first transferred to the southeastern region of VIPER, she’d been warned about Deek. That he’d been in this area long before VIPER formed the Coalition and he’d refused to join it. He took no one’s side but his own. Rather than face Deek as an enemy when VIPER was still in its early stages, they’d struck a deal. Deek agreed to be neutral territory if a summit meeting was ever needed. In return, he had full autonomy within his domain.

In other words, stay out or enter at your own risk.

Weapons could be found with a body search, so she left her spelled dagger hidden on her bike. When she reached the entrance, she handed cash for her cover charge to one of the Goth giants guarding the door and walked in.

Inside the two-level, glittery nightclub, which had a soaring open center, music rocked the walls with heavy bass and screaming guitars. Sweat and alcohol leaked from the pores of gyrating dancers. Deek had pulled out all the stops to turn a basic warehouse into floor-to-ceiling sparkly when he’d dated a Fae woman, but that had been before the ugly breakup.

No Fae allowed now, thus the reason for the tongue-in-cheek name Iron Casket, since Fae majik supposedly would not work around iron, and Deek would kill anyone who broke his rules.

Calling this crowd Goth would sound too homogenized for the creative types that packed the dance floor, crowded the bar and filled dark pockets everywhere.

Waitstaff circled the room carrying casket-shaped trays filled with drinks in crystal glasses. Evalle waved off two before a familiar voice close behind her said, “Don’t you ever dress for going out?”

“Some of us have to work,” she said, turning to find Tristan, who had taken his wardrobe for tonight more seriously than she had. He wore a long-sleeved, button-down shirt in a saturated bloodred color, black dress pants and dark sunglasses. He’d wised up after a month in civilization, now hiding his Alterant-green eyes at night, even though his eyes weren’t light sensitive and he didn’t have natural night vision like hers. His blond hair had grown out, brushing his collar.

Women passing by gave him looks filled with erotic offers.

He returned their smiles, the rogue, telling Evalle, “Like you ever wear anything different for work or play? Oh, wait, that would require having a playful bone in your body, right?”

He could save his breath at trying so hard to get under her skin. Just by saying hello, Tristan could irritate her more than poison ivy on intimate body parts. “I might enjoy a night off and expand my wardrobe if I didn’t have to spend my time tracking down losers like you. Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer any of my telepathic calls until now?”

His gaze tracked past her, sweeping over the room. “We can’t discuss this here. Follow me.”

“No way.”

He shot her a glance lacking patience. “I’ve got a private room upstairs so we can talk. You know I’m not going to pull anything in Deek’s place.”

No, she didn’t know that, if he and Deek had become friends. Before asking him her next question, she tapped into her empathic sense for something that might help her determine his intent. Her empathic gift was still new to her, but she often picked up something useful. “You know Deek well?”

“I know
of
him. I hear he’s dangerous to cross and has zero tolerance when it comes to using any powers or majik in this place. I don’t know what he is, but just his reputation sounds deadly.
I’m
not crossing him.”

Tristan’s usual arrogance came through perfectly clear, but mixed in with it had been a healthy dose of respect when he mentioned Deek.

Most nonhumans feared Deek for good reason, and she doubted anything intimidated the centaur, but as long as you played by his rules in this club, Deek wouldn’t touch you.

Break a rule and you were fair game.

Feeling better about going upstairs, Evalle gave Tristan a nod to lead the way. At the second level, he directed her to an alcove with a plush love-seat-size sofa, two cushy side chairs and a low glass coffee table. Sparkling translucent silver curtains pulled back with gold-and-silver cords framed each side of the opening.

The waiter who stepped out from a dark hallway had nickel-size, black earrings, a pin through his nose, a skull-patterned scarf that hung to his waist and gorgeous tats climbing one arm. He carried a tray with a mixed drink, bottled water and a bowl of fried calamari.

Once the waiter left, Evalle snagged the bottle of water and took a side chair, angling it so that she could see anyone approaching.

Tristan took up most of the sofa, spreading his arms. “You like calamari, right?”

“I can take it or leave it.” Right now she wanted to take all of it. Her mouth watered. “Where’re you getting money?”

“Eat, Evalle. Unless your life has changed drastically, you still run on fury and determination. I ate before I came here and the money is from a friend who’s helping me.”

No point in wasting the food. She dug in, practically moaning over the flavor. Deek prided himself on having the best of everything.

Tristan lifted his chin in the direction of the area outside their alcove. “I was told these rooms are soundproof even with the curtains open.”

“I doubt anyone could hear us yelling in here with that music going on.” But she had to give Deek credit for his design or whatever he did that made it possible to talk at a normal level in this pocket. She sat back, tapping her finger on the chair arm. “Okay, what gives? I know better than to think you contacted me only for my benefit. Not after leaving me to face the Tribunal empty-handed after I saved your butt.”

“That was unfortunate—”

“Unfortunate? No, no.” Evalle sat forward. “Getting a speeding ticket is unfortunate. Losing your wallet is unfortunate. Getting locked away forever in VIPER prison is more like being castrated with a dull knife and no morphine.”