The Curse (19 page)

“Yes, they do, and are frankly tired of having to constantly pass on lucrative opportunities because of VIPER. They realize once I take control of Treoir and we destroy the Beladors that there will be no more VIPER alliance. The only alliance will be between me and the Svarts.” She struck a pose, head held high as if she already ruled the universe.

“An’ ya think the Svarts will no turn on ya if someone offers ’em a better deal?”

“No. The Svarts want to move their entire operation to North America and bring in trolls from all over the human world to organize in one country. The Svarts have agreed to be my personal army once they take over that worthless strip of dirt and disband VIPER.”

He dinna know if he should be in awe of Flaevynn’s audacity or fearful of what she’d put into motion. Deals with Svarts could be deadly for everyone involved. “An’ what of the five Alterants? Are ya sure enough of this plan ta no care if ya find them?”

“I’m not such a fool as to stake my life on
one
plan. I still expect the Svarts to deliver the Alterants to me once Evalle finds the other two …
four
now.”

“Svarts are no easy ta kill, I’ll grant ya that, but Alterants might be able ta win a battle against one.”

Her lips curled into a smile flush with confidence. “Kizira actually came up with how to assure we had Svarts that could overpower an Alterant. She suggested I have a couple of them dipped into Loch Ryve, which I did.”

Ah, Kizira, what are ya doin’, child?

Flaevynn continued. “The two that were immersed into Loch Ryve are practically unkillable Svart trolls.”

“Are ya mad? Those waters would turn a Svart into a demon troll. There’ll be no controllin’ ’em!”

Her words struck with the venom of a cobra. “They would not cross
me
.”

“No on purpose, but Svarts fight ta the death and are no willin’ to die for
anyone
.” He shook his head, an angry sigh hissin’ from his lips. “Now you’ve unleashed a troll that is capable of killin’ Evalle
and
the other four Alterants, especially capable of harmin’ her while she’s still evolvin’. An’ ya
do
need her ta gain Treoir. Even if a Svart does no kill her, the troll can cripple the Alterant an’ prevent her from evolvin’. Ya may ha just cursed yourself.”

FOURTEEN

F
ew things could be more dangerous than an eighteen-year-old female on the hunt for trouble, especially when you added hormones and powers.

How much stronger might Lanna’s powers be than the last time Quinn had seen her?

He maneuvered past tourists bunching along Peachtree Street in downtown Atlanta. Sunshine and succulent smells from restaurants brought them out in hordes at lunchtime to window-shop and impede his progress.

Every minute counted until he found Lanna.

He vowed to never have children.

The same vow he made every time he got stuck tracking down Svetlanna Brasko. He’d called her Lanna since she’d been an adorable two-year-old who’d floated Cheerios in the air. He’d thought her precocious at eleven when she turned a mean-tempered mutt into a lapdog that performed tricks.

But when Lanna reached thirteen, Quinn became the go-to man for finding her. She’d taken it upon herself to help another young girl escape an abusive father in their small village. Yes, he admired the way Lanna stepped forward for others, but she was too impulsive for her own good and had almost died at the hands of a Siberian warlock, the girl’s father. Quinn dealt with the bastard, found a home for the girl and warned Lanna not to use her gifts until she trained. Those had been yet more wasted breaths.

The Braskos were a
gifted
side of his family tree, if you could call dysfunctional beings with the ability to wield majik gifted.

Lanna’s mother struggled to handle Lanna alone, but her bloody Ruska Roma relatives—Gypsies originally from Russia—should have reined the girl in and taught her discipline by now.

Someone should have.

Quinn’s conscience poked at him about how long it had been since he’d gone home to visit Lanna and her mother, who was his aunt. He loved them both, even if the brat did make him crazy sometimes, and watching over his father’s only sibling and niece had fallen to Quinn when his father died.

Quinn had a duty to family, and right now that duty called for getting Lanna out of this country before VIPER discovered her presence. The minute Sen got involved, this would turn ugly.

Based upon the reports Tzader had shared, it sounded as though Lanna had been here only since last night.

Alone all night.

The thought terrified him even if she did have powers.

Who knew what she could do these days? He
should
know. Bad case of
out of sight, out of mind
. Not anymore. He’d have to take some time soon and deal with this. But who would train Lanna when not even her mother had a clue what the girl was?

Her mother had disappeared for a month almost nineteen years ago, then reappeared with no knowledge of where she’d been … or how she’d become pregnant.

A suspicious beginning to any child’s life.

Quinn picked up his pace when Woodruff Park came into view, hoping the Nightstalker he’d traded for intel was right about her destination. The old ghoul had said he’d overheard a young woman with powers, of Lanna’s description, asking for a public place where she could wait for her cousin to find her.

Somewhere with a lot of people, boys to be specific.

Quinn blew out a frustrated breath over that.

When he reached the stair-step fountain at the north end of the park, a gust of wind came out of nowhere, twisting along the streets and causing the water to splash hard as it cascaded over the tier of steps. He paused at the sudden change, looked around, then dismissed it as Atlanta’s fickle weather, which had been dead calm beneath clear blue skies minutes ago.

Circling the area, he watched for a petite chess shark sitting on one side of a game board. Lanna might have come here looking for him, and boys, but she couldn’t pass up a challenge and would have wormed her way into one of many chess matches going on across the eclectic venue.

Got her. She sat on a short concrete wall bordering the tree-studded lawn.

Blond curls ink-tipped in black fluttered in the breeze.

The last time he’d seen Lanna her hair had been half red and half purple.

She observed her opponent—a blond-haired boy around seventeen or eighteen intently studying the game board. He moved a black rook, capturing her silver pawn, then hit the egg timer on his left. She took her time looking over the board as though she didn’t already have her next six moves planned.

But Lanna would choose someone she considered an equal with whom to play, so the boy must be pretty good.

Quinn noted the small brown suitcase nearby. It had seen better days, but hopefully held something other than the red shorts and skimpy blue top she wore. What had happened to the cherub face he recalled from their last encounter? When had she become a striking beauty? But she was safe and alive. The fist of worry in his chest relaxed as he strolled up to her.

She pushed her knight into risky territory, drew a long breath, hit the timer, then tilted her head back, eyes excited when her gaze lit on him.

Jumping up, she hugged him. “Hello, Cousin.”

Quinn expected her to be taller, but she still topped out at barely five feet tall. He smiled in spite of everything, the sound of her Romanian accent reminiscent of his childhood. She might be eighteen, but she still hugged his neck the way she had at ten, and he’d missed that. When he released her, he asked, “What are you doing here, Lanna?”

The boy hadn’t made a move to acknowledge Quinn’s presence, but the frayed edges of his misfitting clothes and the wariness in his tight shoulders spoke of time on the streets and someone who wouldn’t engage easily.

Not with Quinn, anyhow.

Lanna lifted her shoulders. “I play chess.” Then she plopped back down and glanced at her chess partner, saying, “This is Kell. Kell, this is my cousin—”

“Vlad,” Quinn interjected, which caused her to cock her head at him, but she let it go. He used his first name when he didn’t want his last name bandied about.

The kid mumbled a hello and turned his head halfway up for a second, but not enough to face Quinn.

“Let’s go, Lanna,” Quinn said.

“Game almost over.”

That drew a questioning look from the boy.

Subtle had never worked with the girl. Might as well be blunt. “You can’t stay in the States, Lanna.”

“I thought this was free country.” She looked at her opponent and asked him in her somewhat choppy English, “Is this not free country?”

The boy clearly didn’t want to get involved, but said, “Yes.”

She smiled at Quinn again and made another brilliant chess move—this time without paying attention to her hands or the game board. “I am adult. I choose where I go. I come to see you. Are you not glad to see me, Cousin?”

Hard to answer that honestly and spare her feelings. “It would have been helpful to have a bit of warning.”

“I have no phone.”

Out of patience, Quinn picked up her suitcase and said, “Tell your friend good-bye, Lanna. We need to talk.”

She gave Quinn a put-upon glare and had enough left over to share with the top of the boy’s head. Quinn stifled a chuckle at the boy’s lack of attention. Her opponent appeared immune to her charms. She’d enjoyed harmless flirting ever since the first time a boy had called her pretty.

It was undoubtedly a blow to her ego for this one to be more interested in the game than in her.

After a dramatic and exaggerated sigh, Lanna told the boy, “Thank you for games. I concede this one, but you would lose queen in three more moves.”

That brought his blond head up sharply. “Not a chance. I’d have put you in check in two.”

Not one to accept defeat easily, she leaned forward, eyes flashing ire. “How long you have suffered hallucinations?”

Quinn interrupted with a stern “Lanna.”

That silenced both of them. Quinn considered telling them both to show sportsmanship and end on a good note, but the young man spoke first.

“Thanks for playing. You’re … good.” He extended his hand, and after a slight hesitation Lanna took it, shaking.

“You are welcome. Thank you also.”

When Lanna stood again, Quinn walked her several long strides away to stand near the corner of Five Points, next to the bronze statue of a woman releasing a phoenix. He eyed the foot traffic and kept his voice soft.

“It is imperative that you leave this country right away, Lanna. I cannot play tour guide.” He’d had to explain his role as a Belador the last time he’d tracked her down in Canada and had been forced to tap local Belador resources to get her out of
that
country. “You
know
what I am and what I do.”

“Yes. You are snake.”

Quinn gritted his teeth, but kept his voice low. “No, I’m with a coalition called VIPER. You are not an ordinary human, Lanna, which means you cannot stay in this country unless you register with VIPER or have a sponsor.”

“I will consider this.”

“No.” He said that word a lot with Lanna and knew the minuscule degree of influence it was likely to have. “There is no way I can sponsor you. That would require me to be in one place for six months. An unrealistic expectation.”

“Tell them I am visitor. I will get visa.”

“Your idea of a visa is one with no credit limit. Visitors still have to be cleared through VIPER, and I haven’t the time for that now. I’m very busy. I have work to do.”

She brightened. “I will help you.”

“Yes, you can by going home immediately.”

“Not possible.”

“Why?”

“Because I am not well after flying. I have … what you call dizzy and sick? Closetphobia?”

“Claustrophobia? No, that’s fear of being closed in. Are you talking about vertigo?”

“Yes. Sick everywhere. Flight attendant … she hide after first two hours.”

“I’ll get you motion-sickness medicine.”

“A passenger give to me. Made me more sick. Medicine does not like my majik.”

“Fine. I can have you teleported.” But Sen would have to teleport her, and Quinn didn’t want him to know she existed.

She put her hands up. “No, no. That is terrible. I almost die when Bernie’s uncle teleport me. No, I am not leaving.”

Quinn refused to accept that with all of his resources, both human and supernatural, he could not find a way to get one teenage girl out of this country.

Even if he
could
get her cleared through VIPER, he’d end up stuck with her here. Forever.

Or worse. VIPER might actually consider her powers of some use and … he’d be stuck with her here.
Forever.

He hated to use fear, but he couldn’t spend his time watching over her when Beladors needed help fighting Svart trolls. He’d have to be tough with her. “VIPER will find you any minute now. When they do, I’ll have no choice but to allow our liaison with the agency to teleport you home.”