Rise of the Gryphon (19 page)

Terminated, as in destroyed.

Heavy thumps pounded in Evalle’s chest, each beat echoing through her with the finality of a death knell. She crossed her arms again to keep her hands out of trouble and to hide the rage trembling through her. Sen expected her to go rogue.

Someone far down near the front asked, “What about Alterants? They don’t have a pantheon. What’s their status?”

Another round of stares swept up at Evalle. She kept her gaze locked on the stage.

Sen answered, “
Any
rogue Alterant found after this
event will be considered dangerous and a threat due to the possibility of their becoming immortal.” Snickers of disbelief erupted. “Regardless,” Sen said, quieting the room. “Once the ABC is over, these beasts are to be apprehended or terminated. Agents have autonomy to make that call.”

That bastard. No thought of trying to rescue any Alterants being forced to fight against their will, like poor Bernie.

Sen’s motto ran along the lines of the only good Alterant is a disintegrated one.

When rumbling percolated through the room, Tzader took a step forward on the stage, and every Belador in the audience snapped to attention. That quieted the rest. He said, “Finding whoever is behind this infection problem is our priority. I will contact you immediately by text if there is any breakthrough or change in this situation. Until then, telepathic communication risks a pandemic problem. Everyone is dismissed.”

Evalle stood on wobbly legs, then made her way downstairs against the throng of agents heading upstairs to exit. She managed not to lash out at suspicious glances and whispers, pushing past the last group, when she came face-to-face with Sen.

Without any preamble, he handed out a dictate. “Tell Storm he either comes back now to help, or he’s persona non grata with VIPER.”

Did he think he could just dump that on her as if she controlled what Storm did or did not do? She snapped, “What makes you think I’ll see him?”

Sen’s eyes turned to cold steel but he didn’t lash out, which worried her more than his usual temper. He said, “Tell him or don’t. Either way, he’s got until Monday to come in and declare his status with VIPER. His leave is over.”

Of all the people she’d been concerned about attacking in this place, Sen had topped her list. Why the sudden lack of aggression? She should be glad, but all she felt was suspicion.

Evalle looked over at Tzader, who was talking to Horace. Tzader’s gaze drifted to Evalle. When he noticed she was standing with Sen, Tzader ended his conversation with Horace.

Walking up to Evalle and Sen, Tzader asked, “What’s up?”

“It would be in everyone’s best interest to put the Alterant in protective custody.”

What? “I’m not a threat.”

Tzader gave a resounding, “No. And you know her name. Use it.”

As usual, Sen ignored anything to do with showing Evalle respect. He tried to put the yoke on her conscience. “You should do the right thing and offer to stay here. If you’re captured and forced to fight in the ABC, you’ll either be killed or end up being hunted if the Medb take you into their coven. And once you do that, you can’t return to the Beladors without putting them in conflict with VIPER.”

Evalle had to hand it to Sen. When he cornered his prey, he made sure the only way out of hot water led into the fire. But she would not plead any defense to him.

Tzader lifted his hand. “Evalle’s not fighting in the beast championship, so this is a moot point. Neither is she going into protective custody. Beladors can protect their own.”

Sen shrugged as if he really didn’t care. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.” He strolled off.

He’d given up too easily. Evalle had a hinky feeling that he’d just set another part of a trap in place. Or was she running on high-test paranoia today?

After that conversation, she couldn’t tell Tzader about the ABC.

Once Sen and everyone else had vacated the hall, Tzader spoke softly. “Before you say a word, I’m bound to give the Tribunal any report of Alterants around the beast championship. Even if Macha is behind some plan to capture Alterants.”

Evalle’s last ember of hope died with his words.

She just stared at him. Her stomach dropped to her feet.

Tzader cursed and turned away, cupping his hand over his eyes. “She can’t do this.”

“She isn’t.”

He lowered his hand and turned to her. “Neither can you.”

“I hear you.”

“Evalle.”

She held up her hand to stop him. Tzader would step over the line and put himself at risk for her or Quinn, but she wouldn’t let him. “The less said the better.”

“I know you won’t fight in the ABC, but she better back whatever she has you doing.”

No, Macha was not backing her, but telling Tzader that would only add to the worry feeding that bleak look in his brown eyes. He’d been her only hope for unloading this Volonte. The emotional toll the artifact had taken during the meeting left her feeling wrung dry of energy. But she was stuck with it for now.

All her options had just vaporized. Instead of admitting she was rolling solo on this one, Evalle changed the subject. “I do need something.”

“What?”

“An SUV warded against the sun so I don’t lose daylight hours. You need everyone hunting for whoever brought in the infection.” She hated implying that was why she needed the vehicle when in fact she needed something big enough to carry several Alterants if she managed to get some out of the ABC.

“I’ll have Sen ward an Expedition. Where’s Storm?”

She hadn’t expected that question from Tzader. “At his house.”

“We could use him.”

“I’ll tell him, but I’m not encouraging him to sign on with VIPER again.” Evalle looked around, making sure they were still alone even though Tzader could see behind her. “Whether anyone believes it or not, I’m sure Sen tried to kill Storm a month ago.”

“You can’t be saying that around here without evidence.”

“I’m not. I’m telling you, because Storm will probably come in to help you and the other agents. Just keep an eye on his back if he does, okay?”

Tzader took his time answering, those dark brown eyes concentrating a little too much on what she’d just said. “I’d think
you’d
be watching his back.”

Crap. She shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans to keep from giving away her jumpy nerves. She should be helping Tzader. She should be watching Storm’s back. She should be able to do a better job of watching over the people she cared about. “I will, but we probably won’t be working together the whole time due to how little time I can be in the sun.” Especially once she headed out for the ABC without him.

A long, tired sigh wheezed out of Tzader. “Take him with you to do whatever you’re doing.”

No way. “If I need him, I will, but he’ll be more help as a tracker right now.”

“Fine. I need you to do something for me, too.”

“Name it.” Being able to do anything for Tzader gave Evalle a happy moment she needed after hours of stress.

Tzader reached inside his jacket and withdrew a thick legal-size envelope. “Take this to Quinn tonight. I got a text saying that he received the warning about the infection and that he’s back in the city. Said he’d be at his hotel all night. Tell him to call me after he gets this. I need to send him back to Treoir to oversee security there until we get this infection figured out.”

She took the envelope and followed Tzader up the forty steps it took to reach the hallway that led back to her motorcycle. With every step, guilt dragged at her over leaving Tzader and Quinn to deal with the infection when she should be here helping out.

But she didn’t have a lot of time to go see Quinn, check on Grady and talk to Storm before she had to leave for Cumberland Island.

When they reached her motorcycle, Evalle gathered what she needed, while Tzader arranged for the big black sport-utility vehicle that screamed Secret Service.

Tzader put his hand on her shoulder before she stepped into the imposing black ride. “I’ve never known Macha to intentionally send someone into danger, but I’ve got a bad feeling about whatever you’re doing.”

She pulled together all the muscles she could to create a believable smile. “Nothing worse than her usual crap.”

“Call me if you need me. Even if you can’t use a phone.”

“I will.”
Not.
She climbed into the truck and flipped on the headlights that speared the dark hanging outside the mountain. When she drove out, the entrance formed back into a rock, blending into the surroundings.

She couldn’t tell Tzader. And though she needed her friends to know, she hesitated to share any of this with Quinn. Guilt kicked her in the gut every time she thought about him, but much as she didn’t want it to be true, her trust in Quinn had a severe crack.

Back before Tristan was captured, Kizira had claimed Quinn had told her where to find Evalle. That knowledge had almost brought about the deaths of Evalle, Tristan and his friends in an underground maze. When Evalle had questioned Quinn, he’d lied about helping the Medb priestess find Evalle. And Evalle knew that to be a fact only because Storm had unintentionally overheard her questioning Quinn.

Even if she could tell Tzader, now was not the time to divide his focus, when his first responsibility was to the Belador tribe. Evalle’s should be, too, but she also served Macha now, and Macha topped everyone in the Belador food chain.

That meant Evalle would have to insert into the ABC alone, with no backup, because she would not pit Storm against an Alterant again.

And he couldn’t get in without her.

She hadn’t gotten the armband off, but she also hadn’t tried to kill Sen. That counted for something.

Sen had been too accommodating with this vehicle, and he’d backed off
way
too quickly when Tzader had refused protective custody.

Definitely too easy.

Sen hadn’t demanded anything in return for the warded SUV.

Deep in the pit of Evalle’s stomach, she had a sick feeling that Sen knew something. About her and Storm being at the Beast Club? But Horace would have told Tzader, who would have told Evalle.

Or was Sen anticipating that she’d make a run for the immortality offer by the Medb and he’d capture her there? If he caught her, he wouldn’t hand her over to be judged by the Tribunal.

Not this time. He’d deal out justice himself.

C
ousin Quinn should have returned by now. He was near.

Lanna knew this because she held his wrinkled dress shirt in her hands, rubbing the soft material. She was sure she had felt him close just before dark, but that was three hours ago.

Brasko women were born with the gift of precognition, but few had Lanna’s power. Of course, hers was an unskilled gift, and at eighteen, her hormones were creating as much trouble as her lack of formal training. Still, she had been sure Cousin Quinn would walk through the door of his grand hotel suite way before now.

She went to the giant window, where rain slapped the glass and blurred lights of downtown Atlanta at night. Her cousin had much money and liked to be high above Peachtree Street. So many umbrellas opened against the drizzling rain, she could not see who was down there. Dark and gloomy skies. Much like her mood.

Where was her cousin?

Suddenly her head throbbed. She dropped Quinn’s shirt and grabbed her head, but nothing stopped the pain that came and went.

It meant Grendal, the wizard, was here in this country.
Not close, but not far either. She could not let him capture her again. Last time, she had been his prisoner in Transylvania, and he’d forced her to drink a potion her powers had not liked. She’d escaped, but Grendal had found her again. She could feel it.

Her fault that he’d found her, but no choice. Innocent nonhumans would have died if she had not drawn on elements to save them.

Grendal was in Atlanta.

What if he had found Cousin Quinn and harmed him?

She rubbed at the sharp pain in her head. Was not logical. If the wizard knew she hid in her cousin’s hotel, he would be here now.

The
snick
of a keycard sounded from outside the hallway door, then her cousin entered.

She released the nervous breath she’d been holding.

Cousin Quinn walked in with his wool jacket in hand. He wore the same light blue shirt she’d seen on him last night. His clothes had suffered. Quinn’s eyes were tired. He had suffered, too.

She might have a paranoid imagination, but she had good reason. Her cousin was a powerful Belador expected to fight dangerous supernaturals.

“Hello, Lanna.” He moved slowly. Not just tired, but an unhappy slow.

Who had caused this pain in his eyes? Too weary for a man in his midthirties. “You are exhausted, Cousin.”

“Everyone is. Another long day in Treoir.” His gaze
immediately assessed the room, where magazines were piled on the sofa and the remote sat next to her leg. “Did you stay in?”

“Yes.”

“All day?”