by Dianna Love
“What?” Evalle shouted at Sen. “Are you serious? Beladors have been working around the clock to clean up the–” She paused before saying they’d been cleaning up the mess left by the Medb, because that was not going to help the Belador case with a Tribunal that needed an attitude adjustment. “Problems left from last month,” she finished.
A sound rumbled from deep in Storm’s throat that reminded her of a predator on the hunt, waiting to attack its prey. Anyone with sense would realize that might be the only warning before Storm’s control snapped like a paper leash.
“So you can prove this isn’t some trumped-up issue?” Sen asked.
“Take a look at the body.” Dickhead, she finished silently. “The guy was strange, even for a Réisc Dubh. One minute he was entirely human then the next his head and shoulders lost their glamour. His head expanded until his jaws were a foot wide and showed off a double row of teeth. He’d act demented sometimes, then out of the blue, he’d make lightning bolts fly around that interfered with my kinetics.”
“He made lightning bolts fly around and made a cable car ride up here on its own?” Sen scoffed, then directed his next question at Storm. “That wasn’t a Réisc Dubh. What kind of demon has that type of power?”
Storm smiled, but there was nothing nice about it. “You’d be surprised at what some demons are capable of given the right motivation.”
Any minute all this testosterone poisoning would combust into a blood bath with one wrong move.
Just over a week ago, Storm had to be dragged back from the edge of turning demon forever. He carried that tainted blood as a gift from his Ashaninka witch doctor mother, but the Navajo half he’d inherited from his shaman father kept him from the dark side.
At the moment, he looked like he was ready to embrace his dark genes.
Evalle cut through the tension by pulling everyone back to the problem at hand. “I have no idea if he was entirely Réisc Dubh, but he had black ears. The bottom half of his body didn’t change into anything. Take his corpse to the druids at headquarters and see what they think.”
That broke the silent battle raging between the two men.
Sen leaped up ten feet to the platform.
Evalle used her kinetics and catapulted herself over the fence, then up onto the platform, too.
Storm landed silently next to her.
Nice to have jaguar agility.
Sen walked over to the cable car and stuck his head in for a moment then backed out. “Where is he?”
Storm frowned and glanced at Evalle then they both walked over to the car, where no body was inside. The chair leg she’d clung to was still bent, but the rest of the damage had vanished and there was no blood. Even her jacket was gone.
She shook her head and pointed. “He was right there.”
“You fought him?” Sen asked.
“Yes.”
“He tore up your shoulder?”
“Yesss!” she said, losing patience with Sen’s snippy tone.
“Where’s the blood?”
“You see it on her shirt,” Storm said, his voice loaded with disgust.
“That could have been staged.”
“You son of a bitch,” Storm said, taking a step forward.
Sen said, “Do it. Give me a reason to ask the Tribunal to lock you beneath headquarters.”
Where Storm would stay forever.
Evalle whispered, “Please don’t.” She put her hand on Storm’s arm again and felt his muscles quivering with fury.
Sen mimicked in a bad imitation of Evalle, “Oh, please don’t Storm, or you’ll get your ass kicked.”
Storm turned to stone, not looking her way, but he moved his arm out of her grasp.
Now she’d pissed Storm off by giving Sen ammo to humiliate him.
One day, Sen would go down in flames and if she controlled all the water in the world she wouldn’t allow it to dribble on him. “I didn’t make up any of this, Sen. The Beladors are not faking demon attacks. No one can lie to a Tribunal. All they have to do is ask Tzader.”
Not that she wanted to send Tzader to face a Tribunal with all the personal troubles he had right now, but the mix of three deities that made up a Tribunal wouldn’t intimidate Tzader one bit. He’d set everyone straight.
“It’s coming to that very soon,” Sen warned. “The Tribunal has to keep changing out gods and goddesses just to accommodate these problems. Neither Macha nor Maeve can be in a Tribunal due to conflict of interest, so the other gods and goddesses are not happy about all the new Belador and Medb conflict.”
Bloodshed and loss of lives for centuries deserved a better word than conflict.
Sen pointed out, “This is my only warning. I had better not be called back to deal with another alleged demon sighting by an Alterant any time soon.”
She said, “If you don’t want us hunting demons, or any other creatures, then why don’t you have your Medb buddies deal with them? As for the Tribunal, if they’d end the tug-of-war over the gryphons, all this conflict might die down.”
Macha had claimed ownership of the Alterants-turned-gryphons first, but Maeve awoke from a two-thousand-year nap and decided she had equal claim since they carried Medb blood. That witch could posture all she wanted.
Evalle would not join the Medb and would fight any challenge Queen Maeve brought.
Whiny Tribunal deities.
Yes, this was the first time in many years that the deities had been called upon so much, but if they didn’t like being imposed upon, they should fix it.
Then again, Evalle had suffered their attempts at fixing things in the past, which hadn’t been fun, especially the way they twisted words to suit their purposes. She kept her mouth shut.
“I’ll be sure to pass along your advice to the current Tribunal,” Sen said, way too smug.
Adrenaline from moments ago drained from her body, leaving exhaustion in its wake. She wanted to go home. “I’m done. Just so you know, when you get this area back in shape, the demon-you-don’t-believe-exists left a security guy comatose at the lower platform. That’s all yours.”
She walked off before Sen could cause any more problems for her. Storm fell into stride next to her, just as silent as he’d been for the last few minutes.
What had happened to that demon’s body?
Not just the body.
She slapped her head. “Crap!”
“What?” Storm asked, looking around as if some threat had arisen.
She waved him off. “I just realized. My spelled dagger is gone, too.”
He said nothing, but what could he say?
Whatever she’d stabbed shouldn’t have been able to walk away. Not under its own power. Besides, that dagger had been a gift from Tzader. He’d given it to her not long after they’d met and she not only depended on it, she cherished it.
Storm moved smooth as water slipping down the side of the mountain, sure-footed and determined, but although she was a city girl through and through, she kept pace with him, looking over in time to catch him watching her.
Things were uncomfortable again.
She hated this weirdness. He’d been upset with her for sticking her neck out, almost since the day they’d met, but it had never been like this, with her having to tiptoe around him. She said, “Do you have to go back out hunting tomorrow?”
“No. Tzader will let me know if anything new comes up on the killing.”
She stumbled in spite of her night vision, but Storm caught her by the arm and steadied her. He asked, “When was the last time you slept?”
Soundly? Not for a week.
But he hadn’t asked that so she gave him an answer that wouldn’t set off his internal lie detector. “I woke up twelve hours ago. Not much else to do during the day since I can’t go outside in the sun.” But she was so tired she could sleep standing up right now.
Storm’s worry became a living thing hovering around her. She had to get his mind somewhere else. “Sen isn’t kicking up a fuss over you wo
rking with Tzader instead of answering to him?”
“I don’t answer to anyone. Tzader gets that. The morning we left to go hunting, I made it clear that my loyalty belonged to the Beladors now and that I’d help VIPER if it suited me or benefitted the Beladors.”
She smiled at that until Storm added in a harder tone, “And I also made it clear that I would not leave unless I was guaranteed you would not be working alone.”
Don’t say a word. She kept telling herself to wait until they had both caught up on rest, then they’d talk.
She sucked at talking, but she was tired of the ache in her chest every time she thought about their going back to the apartment together.
Storm had been on edge, and it had started ten minutes after he’d walked into her apartment a week ago. He’d locked down his emotions so fast she hadn’t gotten a good empathic read on him, but it hadn’t taken a rocket scientist to recognize that look of I-might-have-made-a-mistake on his face.
Her stomach clenched at the memory.
He had to be thinking twice about staying at her place. She’d tried to convince herself that wasn’t the case, but she’d never been one to avoid the truth.
This tension had as much to do with their living arrangement as it did with his extreme need to protect her. Evalle had to make some changes, but she couldn’t just shove Quinn’s cousin Lanna out the door. Not with a powerful wizard looking for the teenager. Evalle had promised to keep Lanna safe for Quinn, who had been her friend as long as Tzader had.
And Feenix was never leaving.
But she didn’t want Storm to leave either and Feenix hadn’t liked Storm being around her at all.
What if she had to choose between Feenix and Storm?
She couldn’t do that.
Storm could use majik to soothe Feenix, but she wanted them to get along without any outside influence and had no idea how Feenix would react to Storm’s majik.
She’d made it halfway down the mile-long path to the bottom of the mountain when Storm stepped in front of her.
She pulled up fast. “What?”
“You’re upset.”
“I’m not,” she lied out of knee-jerk reaction before rolling her eyes at the flat line of his lips. She admitted, “Okay, it’s been a long week. I’m just ... thinking a lot.”
“What are you thinking about?”
How cramped my apartment is becoming with four bodies moving around.
How the only day we spent there started in chaos and ended in uncomfortable tension.
How I couldn’t cook a decent meal or look like Adrianna even if I had a fairy godmother.
Evalle hunted for something that could be the truth and not open that discussion yet. She ran the thought through her mind to make it true, then said, “Adrianna needs to meet with us right away.”
“She’ll wait.” He didn’t challenge her statement. Instead he leaned down and said, “I’ve had something on my mind, too, that we need to deal with right now.”
Please don’t say you don’t want to go home with me. “What?”
“You and me. Naked.”
Chapter 5
“Get away from there before Sen or another VIPER agent senses you,” Donndubhán warned, fighting a homicidal urge after losing one of his best demon specimens.
Imar backed up, but kept watching through the trees where that bastard Sen and two VIPER agents moved around the top skyride platform on Stone Mountain, cleaning up the mess before humans could panic. Imar said, “That’s four dead demons and for what? We’re going to end up just as dead if anyone in the Medb coven gets word of this.”
“Getting caught is not an option. Death would not be our punishment,” Donndubhán pointed out. “Queen Maeve would put us in a cycle of eternal torture that would make dying a gift.”
Imar narrowed his eyes. “I trusted you when you said we could do this and get out of the Medb coven forever, but this isn’t working. We can stop now and the queen won’t know. Someone’s going to tie these demons to the troll killings. Then what? The next thing you know they’ll find out we’re not turning trolls into demons, but using our own—”
“Shut up,” Donndubhán snarled, “You really believe we can stop now and be safe? Queen Maeve has something in play that she won’t share with anyone except Ossian. She has him moving around Atlanta in some disguise that’s a secret from the rest of us.” That ass-kisser Ossian had been awarded the top position in the Scáth Force of Medb elite warriors. Neither VIPER nor the Beladors knew what Queen Medb had inserted into the Atlanta area under the guise of being just another Medb warlock or witch moving here.
“We shouldn’t have left that troll body by the river,” grumbled Imar.
Donndubhán had just finished sacrificing a troll to create this last demon when an old troll saw them. Donndubhán captured the noisy bastard and had Imar spread the old troll’s scent in three directions to buy them time, then he’d placed a spell over that troll, convincing him to go with Imar to find his missing troll son.
Then he’d sent the pair on their way with orders for Imar to take the old troll to South Georgia, five hours away, and kill him there.
Donndubhán told Imar, “As long as the Beladors and VIPER are the only ones investigating the troll deaths, Queen Maeve and Cathbad won’t give two shits. But if word of new demons gets back to her, we’ll be screwed. That’s the part we need to keep hidden. Queen Maeve and Cathbad won’t believe a Medb is creating the demons unless they catch one alive, and I won’t allow that to happen. What you should be thinking about right now is how you can help me with the next demon.”
Donndubhán had served the last coven queen for six hundred and sixty- six years. Then the original Medb ruler, Queen Maeve, and her confidante, Cathbad the Druid, had reincarnated.
This queen would never die, but warlocks like Donndubhán would.
He had no intention of spending what mortal life he now had left as servant to another witch.
Just another grunt for the royalty.
Imar chewed on his fingernail, a disgusting habit, but everything about Imar disgusted Donndubhán. With a body as substantial as a fifty-gallon steel drum filled to capacity, Imar’s forehead jutted out over thick eyebrows like a bad human experiment and his shoulders were hunched in a way that modern clothes couldn’t fix. Stick him in jeans and an oversized T-shirt and he looked like a thug. That body was better suited for the robes they’d worn in Táur Medb, their coven’s home on another dimension.
Donndubhán, on the other hand, had taken to this human world. He’d like it even better if he had any semblance of a real life. Queen Maeve and Cathbad still lived as if it were two thousand years ago, assuming all their people were loyal followers, happy to continue waiting on the royalty hand and foot.
Every leader required a lackey, which was why Donndubhán tolerated Imar, and also because the annoying warlock had considerable power when needed.
Donndubhán couldn’t do this alone and not get caught.
This way, if anyone ended up in perpetual misery it would be Imar. Donndubhán could cast a control spell on his sidekick so fast Imar would never know what hit him, and Imar would confess to creating the demons all by himself.
Imar stopped gnawing his grubby fingernails long enough to complain some more. “We have to find more trolls for testing the spell, but the troll families keep contacting VIPER about the disappearances.”
“You think VIPER really cares if someone thins out the troll population in Atlanta?”
Imar frowned but didn’t argue that point. “No, but what if Queen Maeve suspects one of her own coven is working rogue in her territory? She’ll call us all in and we won’t pass her lie test.”
Donndubhán had thrown that caution to the wind when he came up with this plan. There was no way to go back. He needed a powerful coven to join, one that would accept him as a peer. That wouldn’t happen until he could prove he was no longer with the Medb, and had an army of glamoured demons at his beck and call. What
he hadn’t told Imar was that once they had absolute control over his special Réisc Dubh look-alike demons, Donndubhán would use majik to bind his creations to him, and turn the entire group into a force even the Beladors would think twice about attacking.
He’d make this work.
To pull it off, he had to find the perfect dark witch coven that would take him in and help him fake his death in such a way that Maeve would never find him. She’d find Imar, whom Donndubhán intended to use for his final sacrifice. Once Donndubhán was in contact with a coven worthy of his talents, he’d pull out his big gun—Noirre majik. Every dark witch in the world would trade her own child to get Noirre.
Only the Medb queen could make that trade.
Anyone else caught sharing just one Noirre spell outside the Medb coven would die in a truly painful way.
But offering to share Noirre would convince any other dark coven that he had turned his back on the Medb, and then his army of demons would give him power within the coven.
He would rule others for once.
And he had the perfect witch in mind who would give him an introduction to the Sterling coven. All he had to do was manufacture evidence that Adrianna Lafontaine was behind the glamoured demon trolls. With just the right proof, he’d be able to blackmail her into helping him, because no one but a fool believed a dark witch would really help VIPER.
Chapter 6
Evalle had been enjoying the last of her hike down the mountain trail with Storm until a witch appeared in front of her.
Sixty seconds ago, she’d been smiling over Storm’s not-so-subtle admission that he wanted to make love to her and wasn’t above making that happen right here in the woods.
Since Evalle wasn’t into public sex, and her apartment was seventeen miles away in downtown Atlanta, she was in a hurry.
Adrianna stood where the trail ended, across the street from a parking lot. Evalle gave Adrianna the evil eye and the witch smirked, damn her.
“Glad to see you’re in one piece,” Adrianna said as Evalle and Storm stopped beside her. They stood on a sidewalk that ran parallel with the road around this side of the mountain. In daytime, this place was busy with locals wanting to hike up the back side of Stone Mountain.
