Rogue Belador: Belador book 7 (34 page)

Chapter 33

Tribunal meeting, Nether Realm

“Now that Queen Maeve and Cathbad the Druid are present, what is your grievance against them, Belador?”

Quinn just managed not to roll his eyes at Loki’s booming announcement.

He’d have to do his best to drag this out without Loki, Varpulis, or Ma’at losing patience ... or losing all the gryphons to this queen bitch.

That might end with bloodshed. His.

Shifting his attention to the queen and Cathbad, Quinn said, “I am the current Maistir over the North American Beladors. As such, it is my duty to protect all those the VIPER coalition serves, second only to protecting humans. But it is my moral obligation to see that no one is falsely accused of any crime. We live in chaotic times, and I wish to see the end of this conflict that has gone on too long between the Medb and the Beladors.”

Loki’s eyes had narrowed more with each comment, surely ready to pounce on Quinn and demand he move this along faster. That was until Quinn made noises about smoothing out relations between the Beladors and the Medb.

Queen Maeve and Cathbad eyed him with suspicion, as they should.

He certainly had no intention of making their lives any easier.

Quinn continued, expounding on how he’d personally protected a witch of the Medb coven recently and how he’d been instructing his Beladors to do the right thing.

In truth, he’d slammed on his brakes right before hitting a woman crossing the street against the light, who’d then yelled at him and threatened to report him to VIPER. He’d protected the witch from his wrath, thus making his statement true.

And he had told Beladors over and over to do the right thing, which was to always protect the tribe.

Cathbad interrupted a couple of times, trying to push Quinn to make his point, but Quinn knew how to orate and would use those opportunities to ask, “Am I the only one present who truly wishes to see peace between our peoples?”

That shut up Cathbad and drew groans from the peanut gallery on the dais.

Time often ran longer in the human world than it did here. When Quinn felt he had stretched his intro as far as he could, he said, “With all that in mind, I bring a grave situation to this Tribunal.”

He heard mutters of “Finally,” from all around the space.

Quinn held his pleasant composure, but turned his “concerned face” up a notch. “I’m sure by now that Queen Maeve and Cathbad have been made aware of the white witches who were recently kidnapped in Atlanta of the human world.”

The fact that neither Cathbad nor the queen made a sound was damning in Quinn’s eyes. He continued, “Evidence of Noirre majik has been found at the homes of the missing witches.”

Loki asked, “Are you accusing Queen Maeve and Cathbad of being involved or of ordering these kidnappings?”

Quinn allowed the silence to build until he said, “I am not one to jump to conclusions. I am here to avoid more conflict. You have convicted wrongdoers on far less than the evidence I have that points to their involvement.”

Cathbad erupted in a flurry of anger. “Noirre was traded to non-Medb coven witches prior to our return. Anyone could have used Noirre.”

“Exactly,” Quinn agreed. “You might have noted that I’ve yet to accuse anyone present of being behind this.”

“Then what are we doin’ here, Belador?”

“Meeting on neutral ground to determine just what has happened. I have agents tracking down a witness who reported that a Medb warlock was seen at Mother Mattie’s house around the time of her kidnapping.” That much was true, because the warlocks made a habit of touring areas where white witches lived.

Queen Maeve took a step forward. “My grievance is greater than his. I do not come here with maybes and possibilities, but absolutes that have not been addressed.”

Quinn knew where she was going, and jumped in to cut her off. “I cannot speak for Macha when it comes to the gryphons, but since you’ve brought it up I’d like to ask the Tribunal if they might be ready to vote on the gryphon right to be a free race.”

“You can’t do that!” Queen Maeve froze and looked up at Loki, suddenly aware of how her words had sounded.

All three deities turned to her. Loki asked, “Do you think to come here and tell us what we may or may not do?”

She took a step back, and Quinn could tell it cost her to eat humble pie. “My apologies. I’m clearly not happy about being accused of yet another mishap. I’m allowed to transfer only a few of our coven at a time to the human world, and they enter a hostile environment. Cathbad and I were slightly delayed in our arrival here because we’d taken the time to inform VIPER of what our warlocks had learned about the missing witches. Not only are we not behind it, but we’re helping VIPER find those at fault.”

Bloody hell. Quinn hadn’t expected that, but he wasn’t done with her. He’d gain the Tribunal’s vote on the gryphons. That might bring Macha, but he seriously doubted Macha cared whether or not the Tribunal ever voted on the gryphons.

Now that everyone on the dais had resumed their positions, Loki said, “Good. Sounds as though your groups are finally doing something to end this squabbling.”

Classic Loki. He reduced hundreds of years of bloody battles to a pissing contest.

Queen Maeve said, “If I may, I have something to suggest that would simplify the gryphon vote.”

She’d hit on the right note for Loki. “By all means, share it.”

“I propose it’s a waste of time to change the gryphon status, and to do so would also set a dangerous precedent.”

What the hell was she up to now?

The goddess Ma’at said, “Please explain.”

Smiling like someone who held all the cards, Queen Maeve did just that. “It’s quite simple. Demons aren’t a recognized race, wyverns aren’t a recognized race, and, therefore, gryphons shouldn’t be allowed to set a precedent that may start a chain of requests concerning other ... beasts.”

That miserable witch. Quinn argued, “Demons and wyverns have never lived in the human world, protecting humans and nonhumans as VIPER agents. Evalle Kincaid has repeatedly proven her value in that capacity, and deserves to be given the right to live as a free person, as do the other gryphons.”

Cathbad let out a
pfffft
sound. “The only difference is that gryphons can shift their form to one emulating a human.”

Emulating. Quinn wanted to rip that druid’s head off.

The druid was not finished. “Evalle started out as a human who could shift into a beast, then she evolved into a gryphon. Perhaps we’ve not seen the end of this evolution. How can you expect a Tribunal to grant any group this level of recognition when they have no idea what the final version will be? Gryphons may continue to change and regress into mindless beasts. What would we do then?”

Unbelievable. How had this turned into one new way to screw Evalle and the gryphons?

Ma’at shared her opinion. “You’ve made a valid point, Cathbad.”

Quinn had no argument to counter the unknown. Gods and goddesses were wary of Alterants already, and this just gave them the perfect answer for how to avoid getting any more deeply involved in this issue.

Macha, damn her self-centered soul, would never stand here and fight for the gryphons. But neither would she give them up.

Quinn opened his mouth to return everyone to the original topic of missing witches, though even he had to admit pursuing that argument would be more difficult now that Queen Maeve had addressed it.

Her gaze speared Quinn, making it clear she was not finished with him. Now what?

Loki spoke up. “With nothing new to discuss, that concludes...”

Quinn said, “Wait,” at the same moment Queen Maeve said, “I am not finished with addressing what is more important to me than all of this.”

Snapping his mouth shut, Quinn waited for her new attack. What did she have up her sleeve?

Varpulis never missed a step, running quickly in place, and not sweating a drop. He asked, “What is your complaint?”

Loki and Ma’at looked at the skinny guy, as though surprised he had vocal chords.

Taking her own pause for dramatic effect, Queen Maeve said, “I request you bring Macha of Treoir here, as she must answer for her Maistir’s role in the theft of my property.”

Quinn’s jaw fell slack.

They were all busted. Quinn had no way to inform Tzader, Evalle, Tristan, and Adrianna.

Chapter 34

Caron owed Deek for his help.

He hadn’t gloated.

That worried her.

Only for Mattie and Sissy would she have gone to Deek. To his credit, he’d made it easy. Once she’d filled him in, Deek tapped one of his connections—a Greek goddess—to locate Grendal. Caron would have eventually found the wizard, but not in less than a minute the way Deek had.

She did not thank him.

A Fae would not insult someone by allowing words to diminish a favor of such magnitude. She merely said, “I’ll be in touch to repay you.”

Deek hadn’t said a word once he’d given her the information. Why hadn’t he stomped around and carried on? He hadn’t even shifted into his power form as a centaur. No, he’d stood calmly outside his nightclub, dressed in black jeans and a deep red Henley, looking like some kind of dark fantasy. His gaze had drifted over her from head to toe, but he hadn’t made the first arrogant comment.

Sexy irritation. Thankfully, he’d excused himself to take care of an issue inside, or she would have made a fool of herself standing there too long, staring at him.

He might have even realized she still nursed a broken heart.

When salt air teased her nose, she sharpened her focus.

She shared a bond with wind above all other elements and it came to her aid now, as it always did. She traveled swiftly toward the Atlantic Ocean where it lapped against the coast at Charleston, and glided out over the water, an invisible assassin intent on justice. Once she located the cargo ship, she found a narrow space between stacked containers that hid her change into human form. The same form she’d shown the strangers around Mattie.

Few had ever seen her true form.

Most of those were dead.

Calm seas and gentle winds allowed the ship to glide along smoothly. She moved from shadow to shadow until she caught the odor of Grendal’s disgusting majik.

What had he done to damage his majik until it smelled so putrid? If he wasn’t shielding the odor, then he was either too arrogant to think anyone would catch him here or his majik was too weak. Maybe both.

She swept past crewmembers with a gentle, whispered,
don’t-look-at-me
glamour, forcing them to ignore her. They passed by, oblivious to her presence. After a five-minute walk, Caron entered a quiet hallway with no crew traffic.

Grendal’s stink clogged the air down here.

Striding forward with an easy gait, she came upon a woman with dark red skin. Red, as if someone had roasted her in the sun until she was medium rare on the outside. What had happened to her hair? Bald on one side and chin-length on the other side. And purple. Hard to tell her age, but she appeared close to Caron’s twenty-seven, and she was equal to Caron in size.

Size would get you only so far in a fight.

Caron could tell that this woman had once been a witch. She was cut, physically, like a warrior, but no human woman, witch or otherwise, would ever be Caron’s equal.

One day, Deek D’Alimonte would get that through his thick skull.

Why am I allowing him to distract me right now?

This woman could be green-skinned or covered in scales. Caron didn’t care as long as she got out of the way.

What did Mattie preach? Try the easy way first. Caron ordered, “Move.”

Cinnamon Girl cocked her head with a confused-dog look. Did she not understand English?

Maybe I should try a different language and address her directly.
Caron said, “Bogadh ... Sai ď ai’… Movimento ...
bitch
.”

The woman finally squared her shoulders and said, “Leave.”

She did understand English.
So much for the easy way, Mattie.

Past the point of putting up with another delay, Caron took a step.

The woman dove forward, flicking a handful of wicked fingernails at Caron’s throat. Caron rolled back out of the way, twisted, and yanked Sunburn Girl over her head, letting momentum take her to the floor.

When the woman flipped back to her feet, Caron clapped. “Got any other tricks? Do those fingernails double as hors d’oeuvres skewers? No? Guess I’ll just have to see how far down your throat I can shove them.”

Her opponent’s red skin glowed and the muscles across her shoulders bulged into a hump on her back. When the woman spoke this time, it sounded as though she’d swallowed Darth Vader. “I will take you apart slowly and savor your death.”

“It speaks! Okay, let’s get on with it. I’m pushed for time.”

When the woman charged her this time, Caron waited calmly, watching for the majik attack. Vicious words meant for cursing your worst enemy flowed from the dark lips of what had to be Grendal’s guard.

Caron lifted a hand and called upon the air to spin the poisonous flow back at the woman.

All at once, her attacker jerked to a stop and on the next inhale she clawed at her throat, choking as her neck swelled thicker and thicker.

Something was growing in there.

Her face went from deep red to purple to blue until she jabbed a long fingernail straight into her own heart. She arched back, unable to scream, and dropped to the floor, twitching.

Caron glanced down at herself. “One down and not a drop of blood on me. Score.”

She put her hand on the door handle, turning it slowly. As she opened the door, she heard wrenching sobs that took her breath away. The female voice reminded Caron of her great-niece.

Grendal must have put a cloaking on his red watchdog and something to hide the sound inside this room as long as the door remained shut. Caron hurried to step inside and close the door, standing in a tiny foyer created only by a short wall separating her from the rest of the room. She kept her presence hidden until she had a better idea of what she was going up against.

A wizard who could overpower Mattie and change a witch into that red abomination outside was not one to take lightly.

Caron eased up to the corner and looked around to find a blonde teenage girl hanging midair with dark shadows swirling around her. She screamed, “Noooo!”

The stink made sense now. A hideous, yellow-skinned man was busy calling up his dark spirits, which were swamping the terrified girl. Grendal hadn’t heard Caron’s quiet entry. He shouted at his captive, who had to be Lanna, “Give me your majik. You will make more. Look at what you’ve done to me, you bitch. I’m dying from the outside in. My skin is drawing tight and killing me.”

The dark spirits were holding Lanna’s arms straight out from her body. She screamed, “No! You will kill others.”

“But you will live. Stop making this more difficult.” Grendal stood up. “We’ll do it another way, but it will take longer.” He unzipped his pants.

Caron had seen enough. Her father would be angry if he knew she went into a fight without any idea of the power she battled, but she’d told him more than once that sometimes you just have to wing it.

First the spirits had to go, so that she faced off with only Grendal.

Calling up her majik, she revealed herself and ordered, “Spirits of darkness, release her now!”

The spirits howled and snarled, bouncing all over the room.

Why hadn’t that worked?

Grendal turned around with his pants falling down around his bony knees.

Oh, please. Not even an acid wash was going to wipe that creepy image from her mind.

“Who are you?” Grendal shouted.

How often did she answer stupid questions?
Let me think on that ... never
.

Caron dissolved her human form into a crystalized state that should protect her from anything Grendal came up with, but that didn’t stop him from calling up more spirits and bellowing curses at her. Caron attacked the spirits on their level, lashing out at each one with her majik. Energy clawed at her and punched her in the head. She wheeled sideways and spun around, grabbing both spirits in her hands and slinging them around and around.

Screaming and wailing filled the small room.

Caron had been trying to protect Lanna, but Lanna was in the way and was getting battered around, wailing in fear. It was time to end this. Caron called upon the wind from the north, hoping her idea would work. A frosty breeze stirred and grew, swirling through the room until it coated the frenetic spirits.

Gotcha, you little devils.
With one slap of Caron’s power, the spirits exploded into tiny, ice-like shards that caught the light and fell to the floor.

Sparkles. Her gaze locked on the glitter and held. Until Grendal started yelling for Leeshen while trying to pull his pants back up.

Leeshen had been the overbaked guard, huh?

Lanna shook and cried, still hanging in midair.

Caron gently wrapped her arms around Lanna and moved her down to a bed, where the girl immediately curled into a ball. Caron said, “Stay here. He won’t touch you again.”

Sucking in breaths between sniffles, Lanna nodded without looking up.

Caron spun around and called up her solid form again.

“What are you?” he shouted.

“The last woman you’ll ever set eyes on.”

He opened his mouth to call forth his dark powers.

She moved so quickly he never spit out the first word. She wrenched his head off and slammed it against the wall.

She used her thumbs and forefingers to make a square and peered through it at the carnage on the wall. “Dang. Missed my calling as an artist.”