Rogue Belador: Belador book 7

by Dianna Love

  Nodding, she said, “I second what Tzader’s dream walker said, but I’d put it more bluntly. A war is coming. I’m not sure what exactly is going to happen, but I’ll have to choose a side. I’ll never be allowed to live in peace. There’s strength in numbers. If I stay here when you go for the dragon, and you fail to free him, then he may escape later to kill all the Beladors for letting him down. If I help you free him, I can only hope he’ll make good on the vow the dream walker gave Tzader, claiming to protect those who come to his aid.

  Adrianna paused, taking in the room. “Until Evalle and Storm stepped in to help me with my sister, I’d fought alone for a long time. I honestly think we’re all facing the end of life as we know it if we stand back and do nothing. After I took possession of Witchlock, I believed we were safe, but that’s not the case.”

  Storm quipped, “We’re only as safe as we are strong.”

  “True,” Adrianna said, then looked to Quinn. “I’ll need access to Veronika to see if being near her firms up any of my visions, and to trick her into telling me what she knows about the dragon.”

  Quinn leaned back, arms crossed. “Tzader can’t get you in without being reinstated as Maistir—”

  “Which Macha is not going to do at this point,” Tzader said. “In fact, I have concerns about how long she’ll allow Quinn to continue, because of his association with me.”

  “Especially when I don’t deliver Evalle so that Sen can ship her to Macha,” Quinn added.

  “That’s not happening,” Storm muttered.

  “Understood.” Quinn’s grim turned a shade darker. “I can escort Adrianna to Veronika’s cell. I’ll tell VIPER that she is consulting with us about contracts we believe Veronika left in place to attack the Medb. Sen’s on their side these days.” He cut his eyes at Storm. “That won’t be a problem as long as you’re not there to call out the lie.”

  “I’ll be here with Evalle making preparations. If I’m called in, I’ll find a way to be delayed without raising suspicion.”

  When Quinn nodded in agreement, Tzader pushed on. “Okay. We have cloaking, and hopefully a way to break the curse. We’ll need teleportation.” He caught an exchange of looks between Evalle and Storm.

  “Let’s come up with a list,” Quinn suggested.

  Tzader counted the fingers on one hand. “Sen—”

  A chorus of “No!” followed.

  Tzader shot a censuring look across the room. “I know that. I’m just naming everyone I know who teleports.” Then he said, “Deek.”

  Evalle said, “No. I owe him a favor as it is, and he can’t be trusted with sensitive information.”

  Storm sat forward and Tzader saw Evalle give him a let’s-discuss-this-later glance as she continued talking.

  “If we get lucky, we’ll get in and out without Queen Maeve knowing who stole her dragon.”

  Tzader nodded, “Now for teleporting. Didn’t you say you had someone, Evalle?”

  Evalle fidgeted. “Yes.”

  “Who?”

  When she hesitated, Tzader pressed, “Is it someone hostile?”

  “No, but this person’s identity needs to be protected.”

  Tzader was not splitting hairs at this point. “Done. What have you got?”

  “Tristan might be able to teleport a group.”

  Disbelief pinched Quinn’s face. “He can teleport from this realm to another one?”

  “Yes. He linked with others, and it boosted his power.”

  “What makes you think he can teleport an entire group, even if we can get him out of Treoir?” Tzader asked.

  “Because Tristan already has and he’s ... here now. I saw him earlier this morning.”

  Macha would go ballistic the minute she found out, but that was nothing compared to how she’d react to Beladors breaking into Tŵr Medb to commit theft.

  This was not the time to nitpick or vacillate. Tzader said, “Let’s do this.”

  Adrianna stood. “I’m ready to go to Veronika when you are, Quinn.”

  Quinn carried his mug to the side bar and asked, “Do we have a tentative time for this mission to go wheels up?”

  Tzader considered that and what everyone had to do. “The power of the scale to hold Brina’s memories lasts only twenty-four hours. After that ... she may have no way to recall anything, if the dream walker is right about the timeline and the Noirre finishes what it started. The scale will be of no use by ten tonight. I’d like to go there, get the dragon, and return by nine at the latest. The insertion team will meet back here at six.”

  Quinn said, “If you want to leave by then, I’ll need to start now to put things in motion for a Tribunal meeting with Queen Maeve and Cathbad. We’ll coordinate the timing. I’ll have Adrianna returned here in time, even if I have to call in a driver to transport her.”

  “That works,” Tzader acknowledged.

  Storm called out, “Quinn, give me a minute to check on something upstairs, and I’ll clear the alarm for the garage door.”

  “Will do.”

  Evalle flashed Storm a quick smile. “Want to be my driver?”

  “Where to?”

  “Pick up Tristan. I had to give him a ride this morning.”

  “I assume that’s why I smelled him in the truck.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Thanks for not yelling about that.”

  Storm said nothing, just taking in a deep breath and letting it out. “Let’s pick him up. It’ll give me a chance to make sure he understands the ground rules going in.”

  “We need him, Storm.”

  “And he needs both of his legs. There should be no problem reaching an agreement.”

  Evalle rolled her eyes. Clearly ignoring her mate’s overprotectiveness, she told Tzader, “Storm has this building warded so everyone staying here is safe, but since you really can’t do anything right now, would you hang around and keep an eye on the place?”

  “Sure, but what are you going to do with that critter?” Tzader nodded toward Oskar.

  Storm said, “We have a place for him.”

  Evalle didn’t look as confident, but she pretended to know what Storm meant and told Tzader, “You really need some rest, Z.”

  “I’ll use this down time to rest.” He needed more than the brief nap he’d gotten at home, but he’d worry about sleep once Brina was safe.

  Tzader brought up one last thing. “We can link with Tristan, but he’ll have to teleport two non-Beladors one way, and three coming back.”

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought about that. Let me talk to Tristan.” She picked up Oskar and left.

  He hated to hear the doubt in Evalle’s voice, and if Tristan couldn’t teleport them, Tzader needed a plan B.

  Let me think. There is no Plan B.

  Once Evalle wrote Deek off as a security risk, even that avenue was off the table.

  Tzader jerked awake when Evalle and Storm walked right back into the room. He glanced at the giant clock on the far wall. Actually they hadn’t come right back. He’d lost ten minutes to nodding off.

  “You want to stretch out in one of the apartments upstairs, Z?” She walked over to stand next to him. “You have to sleep. We can’t do this without you at a hundred percent.”

  “I’m good down here.” If he let his body fall into something soft, he might not be able to force it back into motion again. “What’d you do with the beast?”

  “His name is Oskar,” Evalle chided. “Storm had the idea to put him in with Feenix, which I thought was nuts, but it seems to work. Storm made a shielding spell that allows Oskar to stay in one corner of Feenix’s playroom. My little gargoyle flew over, took a look, and went back to what he was doing.”

  Adrianna shouted from the garage, “While I’m still young, Evalle!”

  “Crabby witch.” Evalle and Storm hurried out.

  Tzader dropped his head back against the chair, feeling every minute of stress he’d been enduring for months. He considered their plan, and Evalle was right. There was nothing he co
uld do but wait, and damn he hated to sit still.

  He shoved his feet up on the next chair, then swiped his finger in the general direction of the light switch. The room fell dark.

  He dropped off into sleep and slid deeper with each slow breath. Darkness seeped into his mind, shutting out the flash of thoughts that had battered him constantly. His body gave up the fight to keep moving and every muscle eased until it was limp.

  For just a moment, he had nothing to do. Nothing worry would fix.

  “Tzader!”

  The harsh whisper brought him awake. Brina’s hologram leaned forward. She huddled, as if hiding somewhere. “I have to talk to you. Now. We have a problem. Meet me in the clearing.”

  She blinked out of sight.

  Slamming his eyes closed, he breathed in and out slowly, pushing himself into deep sleep. It was taking too long. He had to calm down, but how could he do that after seeing Brina in a panic? He stopped thinking about going after the dragon, about Macha, about anything else except seeing Brina. His muscles loosened and he was falling deeper when someone touched him.

  Could Brina be pulling him to her? She’d never done that. He focused on reaching the dream world.

  Invisible hands gripped him hard, dragging him from deep subconscious to ...

  He opened his eyes. No sword flew at his head. Nobody reached for him.

  Soft clouds floated overhead through bright blue skies. He sat up and looked around. This was the clearing, the location where he and Brina had always rendezvoused.

  He pushed up and looked around at the landscape that went on forever. Where was she?

  “She’s not here.”

  Tzader jumped up, and swung around to find Ceartas standing where he’d heard no one a moment ago. “Where is she? She just told me she was coming to meet me here. She had something to tell me.”

  Ceartas shook his head. “That’s unfortunate.”

  “What the hell do you mean?”

  “I’ve been watching for Brina since you left. She would normally have slept twice since then, but she hasn’t returned. Macha must have decided to put a stop to Brina meeting with you in the dream world. Once you free the dragon, he can call Brina to him, even from a different realm as long as Brina holds his scale. Get to the dragon before Macha finds that scale and hides Brina from all of us.”

  Tzader felt sick at the dream walker’s grim tone. Whether it was fair or not, he lashed out at Ceartas. “It would have been good to know that about the damn scale.”

  “Now you know,” Ceartas said.

  Tzader was too tired to banter with this dickhead. “Since you’re Mr. Information, any chance of Queen Maeve and Cathbad leaving Tŵr Medb soon, or does that dragon have any idea on how to get them out of the tower?”

  “The queen is curious about a witch who possesses a power called Witchlock. She and Cathbad ... ” Ceartas was yanked back a step, then his body literally looked as if it were being pulled like taffy. He squeezed out, “I have to go.”

  He vanished as the last word reached Tzader’s ears.

  Chapter 22

  Grendal dismissed his tikbalang. It could once again turn invisible, now that Grendal had repaired its injuries. The hairy gray beast plodded out the side door of the empty building Grendal had warded to use as his temporary headquarters.

  Making those two creatures had drained too much of his powers.

  That blasted Skinwalker and his Alterant mate almost destroyed this tikbalang, but the stupid beast should not have allowed himself to be detected. Grendal walked through the musty corridor and down the stairs to the basement level.

  Queen Maeve and Cathbad underestimated him.

  The arrogant queen had sent her people to search for Lanna, but she’d also sent a team out to hunt for him. Did she think he hadn’t considered that possibility? Didn’t she realize he’d developed a network of snitches during the months he’d spent in this miserable country?

  He missed the tranquility of Transylvania.

  Yes, he had to keep an eye on that pair in Tŵr Medb. The Scáth Force would capture Lanna, and then Queen Maeve would try to keep the girl. She’d also try to capture him, but she would fail at both.

  He stepped off the stairs into the musty basement where five witches were tied to elevated tables he’d had built just for them.

  Not all witches. One civilian.

  Those four white witches had been so secure in their power.

  Until someone unexpected showed up.

  Much like how Queen Maeve and Cathbad would soon lose their arrogance when they realized they could not outmaneuver Grendal.

  His servant stood against the wall on his right, where she had a clear view to guard all five tables.

  He called out, “Leeshen.”

  She turned to him. “Yes, Master?”

  No emotion tainted the eyes outlined in thick kohl, so stark in her simple face. Russet-colored skin shone along her bare arms, showing off the carved definition these American bodybuilders wished to achieve. Grendal considered Leeshen’s musculature one of his finest masterpieces. He took full credit. After all, she’d been only a witch before he’d recreated her.

  Lambskin crisscrossed her breasts. She wore shorts of the same soft skin. Silky lavender hair cut even with her chin swished on one side of her otherwise bald head.

  Her dark-purple lips parted when she addressed him. “Master.”

  Someone on the far end of the room groaned.

  Leeshen’s head swiveled toward the sound. She walked over and lifted a two-inch purple fingernail that was tipped in pure gold and filed to a point. She pierced the captive in the side of her neck.

  The witch arched up, keening and shaking, then fell to the table.

  Once the prisoner was silent again, Leeshen turned back to Grendal. She never annoyed him with endless questions, always waiting for instruction. She didn’t complain about cold or discomfort. He’d stripped away the desire for anything but pleasing him.

  “Very good,” Grendal said. “You may rest.

  She dipped her head in acceptance of his glowing praise. Then she went to the corner and crouched.

  He didn’t understand why others with his power criticized his creations. Of course, they did so only once, then he’d send Leeshen after them.

  Stepping over to the second table, he smiled down at Mattie. “Wake up. It’s time for your next treatment.”

  She blinked, her wrinkled eyelids slow to open. When they did, she struggled to focus. “What is ...?”

  Grendal slapped her papery cheek.

  Her head snapped sideways hard from the hit. She licked her lips where blood trickled.

  Once she appeared cognizant, he reverted to speaking in the calm voice he used to manage the mentally challenged. “Pay attention, Mattie.”

  The witch’s rheumy eyes sharpened. “What do you want, you son of a whore?”

  “Let’s not pull my dear mother into this. She died in that whorehouse, after all.”

  Mattie blinked, and her eyes flared slightly either at his lack of reaction or his admission. She licked her cracked lips again. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “That is more like it. My name is of no consequence for someone in your position. I wish to have a conversation. It will save time if you know what is expected of you.”

  “I won’t help your kind.”

  “You only think you won’t. I require a constant source of energy to keep my power level high and to maintain a healthy body.”

  Her eyebrows climbed toward her frizzy gray hair at that.

  “You’ve met Leeshen.”

  “The one that looks like a demon left out too long in the sun? Yes, I met her, it, whatever.”

  Leeshen could hear everything from her position in the corner, but showed no reaction to the insult.

  Grendal smiled again at her metamorphosis. Leeshen had been a powerful witch. She’d proven a solid energy source as he’d transformed her, but now he required a more powerful subjec
t to work on. He’d had a perfect power source until that miserable child had destroyed a section of his castle and escaped. Lanna would not get a second chance.

  Returning to Mattie, Grendal stroked her gray hair. She pulled away as far as her arm restraints would allow. “Power must be given willingly, Mattie. I want a willing participant, someone worthy of the metamorphosis that takes place. I can take the power, but that often drains me and influences the transfer.”

  “You’re out of your mind. I won’t give you anything, even if it means I never leave here alive. I’ve lived my life in the light, and will not support the dark side in any way.”

  He continued petting her, speaking as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “There is, of course, a ritual involved, and it takes hours for the spell to mature to the point of transfer. Once the host is compliant, I must be physically connected to the host when I draw on the majik, and feed on her blood as she receives my power through her. It’s a complete cycle. It generally takes five sessions for the host, a witch, to completely morph into a version similar to Leeshen.”

  Mattie’s mouth fell open. She trembled in horror. When she could speak, she said, “What kind of animal are you to rape me for my power?”

  “What?” He straightened away from her. “No, no, no. I have no intention of drawing the power from you. You’re too far past your prime and too combative. I need young flesh for this. I had an alternate plan for locating the one I prefer, but someone is interfering. I’ll need your help calling the other young woman to me.”

  “I won’t do it.”

  “I believe you will.

  “Call in some innocent girl to be raped and turned into something like that monster you call Leeshen? Go ahead and kill me. Won’t happen.”

  “I’ve already given a succulent young thing of twenty-six, who hides her witch blood, a workout. While she put up a rigorous fight that entertained me to no end, she isn’t as powerful as my first choice, or as you. You’ll understand why I found that odd when you look to your left.”

  Finally, Mattie’s vulnerability rose to the surface. She turned her head slowly.