by Dianna Love
“I raised that possibility, though they had to all realize Maeve’s game, but she denounced any criticism I raised as being expected from someone who had carried a grudge for two millennia. Maeve quickly assured the entire assembly that she and Cathbad had already begun making changes that would bring about peace between our pantheons ... as long as our people did not attack hers.”
Tzader chuckled and not with any humor. “What a brilliant strategic move and none of us saw it coming.”
“Why should we?” Macha raked her fingers through her hair, muttering with disgust. “So much for all our tribe has sacrificed as the iron fist of VIPER. I was hoping you had news on Brina. Bringing her back is the only hope for our people. By now, Maeve has returned to TÅμr Medb to begin releasing her coven in waves of a hundred at a time. That was the only concession I gained, to limit the influx weekly. The first group goes directly to Atlanta.”
Tzader didn’t want to acknowledge what this meant, but he had a duty to everyone. He would have to let go of Brina and return to Atlanta to stand with Quinn, Evalle and the other Beladors. “Can the gryphons go to Atlanta?”
“No. Maeve and Cathbad are opposing my claim to the gryphons.”
“How?”
“Because the gryphons carry Belador and Medb blood. Once my petition for being a recognized race is decided, the gryphons can choose which pantheon to join. Until then, if they leave the protection of Treoir they’ll be fair game to be captured as lost property.”
“What about Evalle?”
“That’s a difficult subject. I was asked if she’d fought for the Medb at any time, which she had so I had no choice but to tell the truth. However, I explained that Evalle claimed she’d been compelled, as well as the others, and as soon as Kizira died that she was free to choose. At that point, Evalle chose to remain a Belador.”
“Damn right she did.”
“Maeve is claiming that I’m compelling the gryphons and Evalle now, which is why the Tribunal will not recognize any of them swearing fealty to me in the meantime.”
Brina’s neck disappeared, then her mouth and cheeks, leaving only her eyes and forehead in a ghostly mask.
Tzader had never felt so damned helpless in his life. He squeezed his eyes closed to stem the misery wanting to flood out of them and looked away. “I’ll go back to Atlanta, but there’s only ten, maybe twelve minutes left, based on what I’ve noticed.” Yes, he’d been keeping count by the minute, analyzing by the square inch just how quickly Brina’s hologram was disappearing. “I want to stay until ... she’s gone.”
When he glanced back at Macha, she was reaching over to touch the dark green strings woven around where Brina’s body had been.
Tzader shouted, “Don’t touch her!”
Macha’s eyes narrowed with threat. “Who do you think you’re ordering?”
“You don’t understand. Quinn and I both touched the Noirre before he went back to Atlanta. He was searching with his mind for any connection. I just felt the need to be close to her and put my hands on the shape. Two minutes later we were at each other’s throats. If Evalle hadn’t interrupted, blood would have been shed.”
Horror reached Macha’s eyes as she realized what he was saying. She snatched her hand back.
He nodded. “Exactly. You might destroy everything in sight before you realized what was affecting you.”
“Where are Evalle and that Skinwalker?” The room trembled with Macha’s agitated voice.
“I don’t know–”
A guard appeared at the door to the hallway. “Excuse me, Goddess. The Maistir asked to be notified when your guests arrived.”
Tzader’s heart took off galloping. “Where are they?”
“They just appeared on the lawn.”
Macha lifted her hands in a move that Tzader knew would end with Evalle teleported. He rushed toward the door and called out, “Please don’t, Macha. It makes Evalle sick and Storm won’t focus on Brina if Evalle is harmed.”
“He will if I order him to do so.”
Tzader had reached the door and paused long enough to say, “I’m not sure even you can stand between him and Evalle. Testing him will only waste time we can’t afford.”
With that, Tzader raced to the front of the castle. He had to get to Evalle and Storm first so he could warn Storm about the Noirre majik. But surely a Navajo with his shaman background was far enough removed from any dark majik that Storm would be safe from the affect of the Noirre threads if he touched them.
Chapter 31
Oddly, halfway through the teleporting, Evalle had felt a soothing warmth blanket her. When she opened her eyes to find she’d arrived on the Isle of Treoir, Storm was standing right in front of her and she had her hands on his arms.
She didn’t cling to anyone.
Snatching her hands away, she stepped back. “Did you do something to me during the teleporting?”
“No.” He crossed his arms and lifted his head in a way that seemed as though he was gazing over her shoulder.
Lie or truth? He wasn’t twisted in pain, so that had to be the truth.
She hated those sunglasses that prevented her from seeing his eyes. Even if his gaze still blazed red, which she didn’t doubt, she’d have an inkling of what he was thinking. Dealing with that barrier between them gave her a new appreciation for everyone who’d had to deal with her wearing sunglasses all the time.
That wasn’t changing at this point.
Guess she’d need them again when she returned to Atlanta unless she wanted to test her eyesight on the sun the way she’d tested her finger.
“Going to Mitnal was a bad move on your part,” Storm criticized.
With her finger seared and ten spots of Noirre poison ripping up her stomach, Evalle was almost inclined to agree. But not quite. “That was my choice and one you clearly wouldn’t understand, so I’m not wasting my breath trying to explain it.”
He heaved a breath and started to speak again.
She gave him a sharp look. “Stop. I don’t want to hear anything else from Demon Storm unless I ask you for it.”
An eyebrow quirked above his sunglasses. “Demon Storm?”
“That’s how I think of you right now to separate the two of you. You may think you’re all demon, but my Storm–the one who would understand why I offered any of my powers in exchange to find you–if that Storm wants to speak to me he’s welcome to at any time, but Demon Storm needs to hold his tongue.”
Showing up here with her own control slipping away and delivering this stubborn version of Storm might be the height of insanity. She could blame the rage threatening to break loose inside her on the pain her body still refused to heal, or she could be honest and admit that the longer she spent with Demon Storm the more she stared at defeat.
“Here they come,” Storm murmured in a bitter tone.
Evalle turned as ten royal guards converged on them.
Thankfully, she recognized the guy she’d seen inside the castle protecting Brina in the past. “Hi, Allyn.”
The head of the royal guard gave an order to stand down and every sword pulled back. Allyn addressed Evalle. “It’s good to see you, but you’re cutting it close.”
She didn’t react to his words. He wasn’t chastising her so much as giving voice to the frustration everyone felt. What she took away from that statement was that Brina still had time. “I know. We’d have come sooner if it was possible.”
Allyn nodded and waved his hand that opened a path to the castle as he turned and strode ahead of them.
Storm fell into step next to Evalle, whispering, “Thought you were stronger here. What about healing?”
Her stupid heart thumped at any sign of concern on his part, but she was learning not to read what she wanted into his words or actions. “I’m working on it.”
She tried to call up her beast again, but no energy surged through her as a sign of rising to heal her. It felt like nothing more than her beast being jostled from slumber. She drew har
d again. Little by little, power seeped into her body. She sent the first healing arc to her stomach and could feel every little repair being performed at a tedious pace.
By the time she reached the castle steps, her abdomen no longer ached viciously. Not entirely healed, but it felt free of poison. She could breathe more easily. Now, if she could only repair her finger that throbbed like crazy from the bone still being exposed. But that was all the help she could ask of her beast for now.
Storm reached the top step and turned to block Evalle’s way. “Why can’t you heal?”
How had he figured out she couldn’t do it all? Was he tapping his empathic senses? “I’ve repaired my stomach. My hand will have to wait for another wave of energy.”
“Let me see your finger.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Allyn called, “Evalle, are you coming?”
She folded her arms, hiding her finger. “I need you to use every ounce of whatever you can call up to help Brina. If that doesn’t work, losing my finger will be the least of my worries.”
“Evalle!”
She stepped past Storm into the foyer to find Tzader rushing toward her. The foyer had been repaired to the point there was no sign of the battle that had been fought between two gryphons in here just days ago.
Evalle had been one and she’d faced Boomer, the largest of the gryphons when they’d all left the Medb tower to attack Treoir. The moment Kizira died, Boomer became the most powerful gryphon of the flock, which meant no one held control over him. Boomer had been determined to reach the river of immortality beneath the castle.
Evalle hadn’t gone along with that plan, and Boomer’s bid for living eternally had fallen victim to having his head cut off.
Then Tzader had broken through a ward that killed immortals. He’d survived when Evalle linked with him, but he wasn’t fully recovered yet.
He’d never looked so awful. His eyes were sunken from lack of sleep and he was losing body mass. He ignored Allyn and ordered the guards at the door to return to duty before Tzader told Evalle, “We’re down to minutes.”
“I’m sorry. Getting here was complicated.”
Tzader waved her apology off. “Don’t worry about it, but first, I–” He looked over his shoulder until that guard Allyn walked away. Once Tzader was alone with Evalle and Storm, he continued in a hurry. “Brina’s hologram is almost completely gone. The only thing left is her eyes, nose and forehead.”
Evalle’s skin tingled with fear. She looked at Storm. “Can you work with that?”
“Is there anything else left to indicate where her body stood besides that part of her face?” he asked Tzader.
“Yes, but that’s why I came to talk to you first. The Noirre majik thrown on her turned into threads that wrapped the hologram. Now it’s just her partial face and those threads shaped like her body.”Storm nodded, letting Tzader continue.
“There’s a problem with the Noirre threads. When Quinn and I each touched them we became aggressive and had control issues.”
Evalle interjected, “You mean right before I left when it looked like you two were going to tear each other apart?”
“Exactly. The Noirre caused Garwyli to react so badly he was yelling at Macha.”
Storm asked, “Who’s Garwyli?”
Evalle answered, “The oldest druid of the Beladors. Of all our druids, he’s the most formidable but he would normally never lose his composure around Macha.”
“Right,” Tzader said, still talking faster than the Maistir she’d known for years. “The Noirre affected all of us adversely. If I hadn’t stopped Macha from touching it, we might be tiny bits floating in the universe by now.”
Tzader paused only long enough for his throat to roll with a hard swallow. “Standing in the room with Brina’s hologram is fine, but touching it causes a combustible reaction. I know Storm has used his Navajo powers to soothe you and I’m hoping he has enough of that juice to prevent the Noirre from triggering aggression in him.”
At the abrupt silence that followed, Tzader frowned over at Storm. “Why are you wearing sunglasses?”
Oh, hell. Evalle couldn’t dodge the truth. “Storm, would you please take off your glasses?”
He lifted them off his face.
“What the fuck?”
That’s pretty much what Evalle had expected Tzader to say.
Evalle said, “I’ll explain it later, but Storm was tricked into going to Mitnal where this happened. He’s still our only hope.”
“Are you kidding me?” Tzader bellowed.
“Might as well let me try,” Storm offered.
Evalle assessed the situation and came up with a new disaster. She asked Storm, “What if the Noirre harms you?”
Storm snorted. “I might not be able to break the spell, but Noirre can’t break me either.”
That sounded encouraging.
Tzader covered his eyes for a second then dropped his hand. “Yeah, but Macha might kill you on the spot even if I try to stop her.”
“I know,” Storm answered with too much confidence.
That’s when Evalle realized why Storm had been willing to come here without an argument. No, he’d actually wanted to come here. She turned on him. “You expect her to kill you.”
Storm’s burning gaze met hers. “You can’t do it.”
Before Evalle could respond, Macha’s voice boomed through the castle. “Get. In. Here. Now!”
Tzader took off toward the solarium at a dead run.
Evalle did her best to reach Brina’s sunroom before Storm, but he still managed to step in ahead of her and position himself between Evalle and Macha’s back.
The goddess faced the hologram, blocking their view.
Evalle circled Storm to stand next to Macha. When the goddess turned to Evalle, she said, “We need Brina now more than we ever have.”
Licking her dry lips, Evalle said, “I understand. I’m going to ask you to trust me.”
“Why?” Macha started to turn.
“Wait. Please.” Once Macha stilled, Evalle explained, “I need you to trust that I’m always going to work in the best interest of the Beladors. Brina is probably a minute from slipping out of our reach. I brought someone who’s willing to put his life at risk to help us, but I want your promise you won’t harm him while he’s helping us with Brina.”
“Evalle!” Storm warned.
“Silence!” Evalle shouted right back.
He pressed his lips tight.
This master thing had its upside.
“Done,” Macha said. “Now hurry up and do something.”
A swirl of light appeared on the other side of the hologram. Garwyli had joined them. “My apologies for my earlier lack of respect, Goddess.”
Macha waved it off. “I’ve been informed of how the Noirre influenced you. Apology accepted. No more discussion from anyone until we deal with Brina.”
Garwyli must have bad hearing. He spoke up again. “I am glad to see you took my advice, no matter how inappropriately it was offered.” His gaze tracked past Macha.
The goddess turned, following the direction of Garwyli’s gaze, and got a good look at the Demon Storm.
Evalle rushed to intervene. “If everyone will step back as far as you can, Storm can get started.” Doing what, she had no idea, but hoped he was feeling inspired.
Macha’s hair had been calm, but now it flew wildly around her head, the colors radiating from vivid reds to glaring blond. She literally shook with leashed power and turned a glare on Evalle that should have singed her eyelashes. “Just to be clear on our agreement. I won’t touch him until Brina is back or gone for good.”
Crap. Evalle should have had a chance to phone a friend whenever she made deals with Macha.
Tzader shouted, “Do something! Brina just lost half her forehead.”
Everyone went into position as if choreographed.
Storm stepped up to the twisted green threads and opened his arms, curving th
em to wrap around the hologram, but he paused before touching it.
Evalle chewed on her lip to the point of tasting blood. That took her mind off of her throbbing finger.
With his hands still hovering near the Noirre, but not touching, Storm’s lips moved silently. Was he talking to someone or having a debate with himself? Finally, he closed his eyes for a moment, gave a little nod of some sort and started speaking in a deep tone.
That was Demon Storm talking.
His body glowed. Was that what auras looked like to other people? Evalle never saw them, but Storm had a purplish glow. His guttural voice raised the hair on her arms. She cut her gaze over to Tzader who she hoped was too confused by Storm’s appearance to realize he was not hearing the voice of a Navajo shaman descendant.
Storm’s words were twisted and undecipherable.
He clenched his jaw, but kept ripping the words out as though he had to claw each one from his throat. His extended arms yanked forward and clamped the hologram, his hands gripping the form shaped of Noirre threads. The black majik came alive. Green filaments twisted and sizzled with energy. An acidic smell that was ancient and nasty filled the room.
Storm’s voice went deeper then turned hoarse and halting, each word a battle to drag out. His fingers curled tight, clenching the electric threads.
The purple glow began to dim as the threads in turn began glowing brighter every second.
Was the Noirre dragging power out of Storm?
Evalle lunged around the opposite side of the hologram and reached for his hands, gripping them tightly.
Storm yelled, “No!”
“Yes. Do it. I believe in you.”
“Let go. My blood is at war.”
Did he mean his demon blood wouldn’t allow him to call up his Navajo powers? Or were both bloods fighting for dominance inside him? The green threads turned a brilliant hot flame blue and burned through her clothes to her skin, branding her everywhere they touched.
She could smell her body being seared. Her mind screamed to let go.
If she did, she’d lose him.
Chapter 32
