Evalle and Storm

by Dianna Love

  “What? I can’t drop everything I’m doing and fly out for some problem you aren’t willing to explain,” Storm argued, frustration boiling in his words.

  Heaving a long sigh, his uncle said, “I understand. When we lose another one, I can at least say I asked. Goodbye.” The call ended.

  Evalle said, “If you squeeze that phone any tighter it’s going to be plastic confetti.”

  Storm opened his palm to see the sides of the phone crushed. Wiping a hand over his mouth, he stared at the ground and thought back over the call.

  When we lose another one ...

  That sounded dire. Had his uncle been talking about someone dying?

  That man had a team of people who leaped when he spoke. He had enough money to hire an army of doctors if his medicine man couldn’t cure someone. Why would his uncle not allow strangers in when he’d opened the tribe’s life to the outside world?

  Your people need you.

  Storm’s father would’ve dropped what he was doing to return to this country, regardless of any difference with his brother, if he thought he could save even one tribal member.

  His father would expect no less from Storm.

  It was hard to swallow, but Bidziil had done the same for Storm.

  Still, why couldn’t his uncle explain more over the phone? Storm could get people in place to help, but right now he had one primary concern.

  The impossible task of keeping Evalle safe while trying not to smother her.

  “Storm?”

  He lifted his head at her soft voice. “Sorry. Got sidetracked.”

  “When Tristan delivered your phone in Treoir, he said someone had been blowing it up. Were all those messages from your uncle?”

  “Yes. He’s got some problem he’ll only discuss in person.”

  “You should go.”

  Storm opened his mouth to argue that it was more important to be with her. He paused when an idea hit him.

  Within seconds, he had a new plan and told Evalle, “You’re right.”

  Relief floated through her gaze.

  Storm didn’t believe that emotion had to do with concern over his uncle, which meant it might be about Storm leaving.

  They’d just enjoyed a pretty damn good return home. Why would Evalle be glad to see him go so soon? His mate had something else going on.

  Something she wanted to deal with herself.

  She’d agreed not to go to Adrianna unless she bonded with him first, but she knew a shitload of other nonhumans.

  He was not going to negotiate one more agreement at the moment.

  Neither would he push her to tell him who else she might be considering, but his mate wasn’t fighting her battles, internal or otherwise, alone as long as he lived.

  She knew this but fighting alone had been ingrained in Evalle from the beginning. Her mother died in childbirth and her father abandoned her the minute he saw bright green eyes and was told she could never be exposed to sunlight. He’d paid his sister to raise her, which had been nothing more than locking Evalle in a basement and keeping her fed for the money the woman received.

  He understood his mate’s need to heal her body and not put him at risk, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do his best to keep her safe while she tackled those issues.

  Checking his watch, he said, “I’ll call my uncle back and let him know we’re flying out right away.”

  “We?” Her eyes flared with surprise.

  He tested the water with a simple question. “Do you not want to go with me?”

  “No, I mean yes, I want to go with you. I just thought ... it didn’t involve me.”

  “Anything I do involves you.” He gave her a quick kiss and said, “Let’s go pack. I want to arrive in Arizona before daylight.”

  Everything Storm said made sense to him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he might be moving too quickly, as if something compelled him to fly out now.

  He brushed that off as another bout of guilt, because his father would be disappointed in him if he didn’t. He also rationalized that this trip would put Evalle halfway across the country from Atlanta, demons, Medb warlocks, bounty hunters, and any other nonhuman threat.

  “I’m excited,” Evalle said with forced enthusiasm.

  Her smile triggered his lie detector ability, but he attributed all of that to how little she’d traveled and possibly a bit of anxiety over meeting his uncle.

  She’d settle down once they were on the way.

  Getting her out of here topped his priority list.

  He had a solid plan that would keep Evalle far from preternatural harm and wipe away some guilt at the same time.

  What could happen to her at a casino on a reservation in the middle of the desert?

  CHAPTER 9

  “What if someone wants an ID when we land?” Evalle asked, running out of reasons to not join Storm on this trip. She had sixty feet left to come up with a viable idea before they boarded a Lear jet. The drive west of downtown Atlanta to Fulton County Airport, better known as Charlie Brown Field, had them on time to depart just after midnight.

  Finally. When they landed, would it still be Saturday? Did Arizona use Daylight Savings Time? She was too tired to figure that out.

  They’d arrive before daylight. That’s all she needed to know.

  Even if she’d dragged her feet packing, Storm would have made the jet wait. Inconveniencing others would have been inconsiderate, and she did want to be with Storm, but he could function far easier without her.

  Hadn’t the warlock in Oakland Cemetery proven that?

  As always, Storm had an answer for everything. “You won’t need ID for anything. Stop worrying. This will be fun.”

  She argued, “Your idea of fun has flaws. Remember when you tried to tell me camping would be fun?”

  “Bad analogy. You haven’t camped yet. You will enjoy it when we go.”

  She silently disagreed. Going to a reservation in Arizona didn’t sound as if they’d be in a city and there’d be nonstop sunshine. Give her an urban landscape any time with some Georgia rainy weather on occasion.

  At the moment, though, camping sounded much more appealing than flying in an airplane to an unfamiliar city and staying in a casino.

  What would those people think of her wearing sunglasses all the time? How did women dress to visit a casino? Evalle doubted they wore clothes like her standard jeans, boots, and BDU shirts. What would his uncle think?

  How could she be of help when she couldn’t go outside during the day?

  She could keep coming up with reasons not to go.

  A new idea hit her. How many people could the jet hold? Fifty?

  Regardless of the number, she could tell Storm they shouldn’t risk her becoming claustrophobic. She might panic, then her gryphon would show up at the worst time and kill everyone.

  Her heart fell. That had a major flaw.

  Mr. Lie Detector would roll his eyes at the fabrication.

  She hadn’t felt any glimmer of her gryphon in Treoir and experienced little power at all in Atlanta.

  The world was safe from a spontaneous gryphon shape-shifting event.

  She’d agreed not to tap Adrianna’s Witchlock, a power at the high end of the nonhuman food chain, without bonding first, but she’d said nothing about finding another way to fix her body before she lost all her power.

  Neither would she bond without fixing her problems first.

  Going to Arizona killed any chance of looking for a different option from someone she knew within the nonhuman community in Atlanta.

  If she tried to back out of going for any reason, Storm would immediately cancel his trip and stay so he could be nearby in support.

  She sucked at being a mate these days.

  When they reached the jet stairway, Storm sent Evalle ahead to where a woman decked out in dark blue pants, a matching jacket, and white blouse welcomed her inside.

  Murmuring her thanks, Evalle stepped past the woman and into the cabin where she p
aused.

  The interior reminded her of what she’d seen in movies of a corporate-style jet with luxury furnishings. Beautiful cream-colored leather sofas with matching chairs were scattered along the length of the cabin, accompanied by polished wood tables and sidebars.

  No people.

  She amended her assessment to a private corporate jet.

  Storm’s hand cupped her waist. “What’s wrong?”

  “Are we the only ones on this flight?”

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “Why don’t you pick where you want to sit?”

  Drawing in a breath, she continued halfway down the aisle and chose a sofa. She sat in the middle of the soft cushions and accepted she had no way out of this trip.

  Storm asked to have the cabin lights dimmed as the jet motored to the runway. When he settled next to her, he asked, “Okay, what’s wrong?”

  She considered her options, such as admitting she didn’t want to make this trip. She’d earn the biggest jerk award. Storm had never hesitated to do anything for her or go anywhere for her. The truth was she had a case of the jitters.

  He could fit into any setting with a change of clothes.

  She could dress up in runway model garb and still stick out like a weed at a national flower show.

  Storm ran a finger along her neck. “Okay, spill it.”

  As they made the turn to get into position to take off and accelerated, Evalle searched for any topic to avoid whining about taking an unexpected trip. “Are you rich?”

  His eyes widened in surprised then he gave her one of his smiles that could turn her into putty.

  She had no intention of getting naked with a flight attendant only a few steps away.

  Storm quipped, “Took you long enough to ask me that.”

  Lifting her shoulders, she said, “I’ve never thought about how much money you had until ... now.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, that’s not entirely true. I mean, we live in a building in downtown Atlanta and you have other real estate. Plus, I did wonder how you found me so fast in South America and down on the southeastern coast of Georgia when you showed up in a helicopter. I couldn’t believe you’d chartered one to meet me before I went to Cumberland Island.”

  His handsome face fell at that reminder.

  Her empathic gift picked up emotions she’d label as stress from a bad memory. She’d given Storm the slip in Atlanta to protect him from a beast game she’d intended to enter alone. She hadn’t wanted to go, but her former miserable goddess leader had forced her into that position.

  Telling Storm would have put him in danger due to being a Skinwalker who’d be expected to battle.

  Also, Evalle didn’t want him with her when she had low expectations of walking away with her life or freedom.

  As it turned out, she’d been right on one account.

  Storm showed up when she’d have thought no one could catch up to her from Atlanta after her huge head start, but he had and accompanied her into the secret nonhuman battleground.

  Then the Medb teleported her and other Alterants on site to the Tŵr Medb realm.

  Power built and rushed around her.

  Yep, bad idea reminding him of that time.

  Evalle patted Storm’s arm. “Power down. I don’t want you to blow us out of the air.” She added a smile, because he had unmatched control most of the time.

  How often had her ability to land in a dangerous situation tested that control?

  Too often.

  He relaxed and she returned to her initial line of conversation, saying, “You were telling me about where you got the money to charter a private jet at a snap.”

  “I have my own that I’ve earned, but I also inherited some meant for my father, according to my uncle. When things got crazy down in South America before my father died and I came up here, he told me if I ever needed anything to go to my uncle. I had no plans to ever contact his brother.”

  “Why?” She’d like to understand the friction she sensed between Storm and his uncle.

  Storm curled his fingers around her shoulder while he took his time answering. “My father and his brother fought over different visions for their clan, which is why my father left. He felt his people were losing their culture and the only solution people such as his brother brought in had to do with exploiting gambling on the reservation. My father died and I ended up a demonic jaguar created by the woman who used him.”

  “The witch doctor who shall not be named,” Evalle quoted Storm in an understanding voice.

  “Right. I can’t help thinking he and I wouldn’t have gone through all that if not for his brother’s determination to turn clan land into high commerce. I wasn’t happy to contact Bidziil when I needed funds, but he wired the money the minute I asked.”

  Now Evalle understood the guilt coming from Storm. She kept silent as he finished explaining.

  “When I returned from South America, I went to see him in person to repay him. He told me the money was my father’s and, therefore, mine. He’d been managing it all these years. I realized I owed it to him to repay that favor.”

  She thought about when a Tribunal had teleported her to a jungle in South America. “You needed money to find me, right?” She shook her head and looked away. “I’m not just a constant danger to be around, but an expensive mate to keep up as well.”

  His jovial mood flew out the window.

  Storm came off the sofa and swung around, kneeling in front of her. He used a finger to turn her face back to him.

  When she met his gaze, he said, “Do you think I care one bit about any of that money? I would burn it all in a bonfire this minute if I thought it would fix ... ” His lips closed in a firm line.

  “My gryphon?” she finished for him.

  Storm had to give her the truth. “Yes, I’d give anything for you to shift into your gryphon. You want honesty, so I’m not going to dance around that topic. I didn’t ask to be a Skinwalker or to have the ability to shift into a jaguar with my demon blood, but ... losing a limb would be easier than my animal. My jaguar is part of me. I get what you’re going through and will do anything in my power to help your gryphon return.”

  She smiled, but her eyes wouldn’t commit. “I know that even without you saying it and love you for not pushing me or expecting me to just get over it. To be honest, I hesitated to come on this trip, because I want to be able to move on at some point and, if I stayed home, I could figure out my limits. It does weigh on me that I’m not at the point to fully accept what I can’t do. For now, I’m going to try not to dwell over losing my gryphon and do my best to enjoy this trip.”

  Reaching for the right words were never easy in difficult times, but for her he would try. “I will always support whatever you decide, but I’m going on record to say I think you shouldn’t put a time limit on determining if what you feel right now is going to be your status quo.”

  She listened with a thoughtful expression.

  After a few minutes, he sensed her emotions evening out as if maybe he’d given her what she needed to hear.

  He hoped so.

  Silence sometimes offered as much comfort as words. Storm waited until she corralled her thoughts.

  Lines formed at the bridge of her nose while she pondered. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Remember the shaman you brought in to bless our house? Is he like Garwyli and you?”

  Was she looking for someone else to heal her? Didn’t she realize he would have found that person?

  Storm gave her an answer he hoped met the point of her question. “Yes, that shaman could heal, but his gifts are more suited to calling upon protective spirits, like he did for our rooftop room. Garwyli and I possess stronger healing gifts than him.”

  She frowned. “Was he a medicine man from your father’s tribe?”

  Only Evalle would get that he didn’t feel connected to his uncle’s tribe in a way that would make them Storm’s. “Shamans are often considered medicine men and he is o
f the same tribe, but not from my father’s clan. They have a specific medicine man in the clan, unless he’s died and not been replaced. Why?”

  Huffing out a big breath of air, she said, “This will sound dumb, but I was wondering if he’d see a non-tribal member.”

  Storm considered that.

  Did Evalle just want to have someone give her a spiritual reading? What harm could there be in her meeting with a Native healer? None that he could see. “Nothing you say ever sounds dumb, sweetheart. To be honest, I don’t know if a new person is in place or if that person will agree to meet you, but I’ll find out. My father said he grew up with a man who should’ve taken his place once he left.”

  “Your father was a medicine man?”

  Storm hadn’t realized how little he’d spoken of his father, but Evalle had no true blood relation she’d acknowledge so those conversations hadn’t happened.

  He explained, “Had he remained with the tribe, he would’ve been.”

  “That makes sense, considering the power from your Navajo side. What was your father’s name?”

  “Sani.” Storm hadn’t said it in a long time. “I got the impression he became the go-to person around his clan from an early age. You’ve heard people call someone an old soul.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s how I think he was considered in his youth. I inherited some of my gifts from him. He spoke little of his time before South America, preferring to tell me about my heritage more than his life growing up there. His power lay in his passion for Native culture he felt was being lost. That’s what drove him to travel thousands of miles to settle with a reclusive tribe like the Ashaninka and offer his aid.”

  Storm still couldn’t believe that witch doctor—his birth mother—had deceived someone as powerful as his father, but she used her majik well to hide her dark side.

  That manipulative bitch also managed to trick Storm into being captured in an underworld demon realm. He could appreciate how his father must have felt when he realized he’d been used.

  “I wish your father was here, Storm.”

  He returned his attention to the woman he loved, far more deserving of his emotions than the one who’d birthed him to be her personal demon. “I do, too. He would have loved to meet the woman who holds my heart in her hand.”