Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Evalle took a menacing step toward her and said, “Do I look like someone with patience?”

  Imogenia didn’t cower, but she did back down in a silent standoff.

  “I didn’t agree not to warn Daniella that you’re coming for her,” Evalle pointed out. “You tell me why anyone would accept the Medb’s word and how I find the ABC location, Daniella’s all yours.”

  That got through to Imogenia. “The Medb are sponsoring this championship and have given a blood oath to back their offer. Plus, the Medb are sending a woman with Tristan and she’ll be ordered to state the agreement the Medb have made under a truth test. If she fails the test, she’ll die on the spot, but the host is not saying any more than that so there’s no way to prepare for the truth test.”

  “And access to Cumberland?”

  Imogenia muttered to herself about dragging this out. “The host will arrange for boats that carry nonhumans, and those boats will know where to go. I don’t know the pickup point yet, but the source who told me about this Beast Club is finding out for me, so ask your source.”

  Evalle didn’t have a source except Grady. If he’d known any more, he’d have told her.

  Not waiting for another comment from Evalle, Imogenia waved at the Domjon to get his attention.

  When his gaze shot to Evalle, she lifted her thumb up, signaling they’d reached an agreement. How was she going to find out the pickup point?

  The witch strode off in a huff.

  Evalle turned to Storm. “Tristan wouldn’t work for the Medb.”

  Storm’s attention stayed on the witch, who slowed long enough to drag poor, naked Bernie to his feet, then exited the fight camp. “She was telling the truth, but even I’m surprised at Tristan helping the Medb. Maybe he’s suffering from Stockholm syndrome.”

  “Or Tristan may be compelled, but without any way of proving it, he’ll be as guilty as the Medb once he does this.”

  She had the sudden urge to hunt down Kizira, the Medb priestess who’d captured Tristan, and choke her until she released him. What had Quinn ever seen in Kizira? As Quinn’s best friend, Evalle tried to be open-minded about Quinn’s mysterious history with the Medb priestess, but he was a Belador who deserved a woman worthy of him. He shouldn’t be friends with the enemy, and Evalle would tell him the next time she saw him.

  The Medb were a bunch of murdering witches and warlocks who deserved to die slowly. Fury blazed through her, demanding justice. Now.

  “Evalle?” Storm asked softly. “What’s wrong?”

  At the sound of his voice, she blinked, surprised she’d forgotten he was standing there, or where she was for that matter. She never lost touch, especially in a dangerous environment. It grated on her that she had this time, which came through her voice when she answered with a sharp, “Nothing’s wrong.”

  Storm studied her with concern. “Did you forget that you can’t lie to me?”

  Well, yes.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, confused at the burst of anger. Storm was right earlier when he said she needed sleep. “Sorry. Just worried about Tristan. And his sister. And his two friends captured with him.” She looked around. “Can we leave now that you’ve fought someone?”

  Storm studied her an extra second, then said, “We’re done once we tell the Domjon we’ll forfeit so Zymon’s beast can win my category.”

  “Let’s get out of here. I need to figure out some things.” Like how she was going to convince anyone to help Tristan now.

  VIPER, Macha and the Beladors would expect her to hunt Tristan and any other Alterant aligned with the Medb. Evalle had to get inside the beast championship—without Storm involved—and convince Tristan to leave with her.

  She might as well bet on world peace as long as she was going for long shots.

  FIVE

  Hiking a mile up one side of a mountain then back down the other side at three in the morning in the face of a chilly breeze should have taken the edge off of Storm’s frustration.

  But, no, he still wanted to rip something to pieces.

  Evalle’s emotions had been flying around from anger to worry to irritation to anxiety to fury to something that felt very much like desire.

  That last one might bring on the “Hallelujah Chorus” if not for his concern over her unusual roller-coaster emotions.

  Evalle looked over at him, gaze dropping to the belt he now wore again. “You never told me what that stone from your belt buckle was worth.”

  Not going to either. “It’s replaceable.” But she wasn’t, and that bone put her at risk. He groused, “That armband is coming off tonight.”

  “No, it’s not,” Evalle argued. “You heard Imogenia. I can only give it to someone who wants it.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “You don’t want this thing. You couldn’t shift into your jaguar form with this locked on your arm.”

  “You can’t shift either,” he pointed out.

  “I’m not supposed to unless I want to face a Tribunal hearing or get torched by Macha, so there’s no harm in it being on my arm.” She stalked along beside him. “It’s fine, Storm. I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You lost contact with me and your surroundings back there. I could feel the aggression rolling off of you.” He had his own aggression he’d like to release and nowhere to point it. “You’re wearing an armband with an artifact that can control spirits. We have no idea if that bone can do anything to the host owner.”

  Evalle grumbled back, her voice as weary as her movements. “I’m tired and irritated, that’s all. I just found out that Tristan’s in a worse jam than I thought, and I’m not sure how to help him now.”

  “That worthless Alterant is going to get you killed.” If that happened, Tristan would need the entire Medb Coven at his side when Storm went after him. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “Oh, really? You’re telepathic now?”

  She hadn’t been this antagonistic since they first met, but he ignored the bite in her voice that a few hours of sleep might help. “You’re planning on going into that beast championship, which is the last place you should be. The Medb are actively looking for Alterants, and you already know they’re after you and don’t need to see your neon green eyes to recognize you on sight.” He shook his head.

  “My choice.”

  He would not snap at her. She didn’t mean to sound so cold and distant. It was the Volonte bone and exhaustion. “What if Tristan signed on voluntarily with the dark side?”

  “I have to give him the benefit of the doubt, a chance to walk away.”

  “And what if he hands you over to them?”

  She walked along silently for another minute, then said, “He won’t do that.”

  Her sense of loyalty was both admirable and damned irritating, because she gave it to someone who didn’t deserve the sacrifice she would make. “If you’re determined to go into the games, I’ll be your fighter.”

  “No. You’re not risking your life again for this. It’s not your problem.”

  Storm stopped.

  When she did, too, and turned to him, he cupped her chin and cheek with his hand. “That’s my choice. You need a way to get inside the ABC and unload that armband. If you’re going in, then I’m going with you.”

  “I have an idea of what to do.”

  “Take that armband to VIPER?”

  Wind whistled through the trees and swirled loose hairs around Evalle’s face. She swiped them out of her eyes. “Not exactly. I can’t just walk into VIPER and say I happened upon a Beast Club fighting ring and forgot to call it in, then entered my own fighter in the battles. Oh, and I ended up with a stolen Volonte bone to boot.”

  “So what is your plan?”

  “First I have to tell Macha what I’ve learned.”

  Storm groaned. “Those conversations always end up with you bloody, owing her more, or both.”

  Her voice was calm as she explained, “Not this time. I’ve found where Alterants will be
congregating. Macha wants the Alterants found and Tristan to tell us what he knows about Alterant origins. I’ll point out to her that I had to go into the Beast Club tonight to see Imogenia because of my obligation to her. She’s got pull with VIPER. If she informs them about the Beast Club, they won’t question how she knows.”

  Good point, if he trusted that goddess. Not a bit. “What about the armband?”

  “She can tell VIPER she’s sending it into headquarters on my arm, which would be true, and that someone needs to take the armband to keep the Volonte safe. That should get this thing off my arm immediately, since Sen wouldn’t trust me with a magical paper clip.”

  Storm had to admit that Evalle had thought this through and hoped that meant she was gaining control of the bone.

  She finished, “Once VIPER knows what’s going on, they can use the armband to send in a covert team.”

  Call him cynical, but that still sounded too easy.

  Storm started walking toward his truck again. It should be in sight any time now. “Sen may bar you from being on the covert team that goes into the ABC.” One could only hope.

  Evalle fell into step with him again. “Not if Macha demands that I’m on the team, and you know she will, so that I can get to Tristan and maybe some of the other Alterants.”

  “I’m still going with you.”

  “You’re no longer with VIPER, and Sen may not take you back.”

  True and true, but Evalle needed someone else to watch her back besides Tzader and Quinn. Those two Beladors cared for her as if she were a little sister, but they couldn’t watch only her on an op. Storm could and would.

  He offered, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  She made a gritty noise that might be an agreement. “How’s your back?”

  He let her change the subject. “Fine.”

  “I’ll want to see it.”

  “You know I’ll heal by the time—”

  “I said I want to see it,” she said with determination, which probably came from worry.

  Okay, Miss Cranky. “Fine. When we get to the truck.”

  She picked up the pace down the rolling elevation to the foot of the mountain, where pine trees swayed in the breeze.

  Evalle reached the sport-utility vehicle and turned to him with a stubborn look burning in her eyes. She knew he could draw on his jaguar powers to heal and had already started the process, but she had that single-minded look, and he wanted her calm for the drive back so she might sleep. She’d had no real rest in over three days.

  Reaching his SUV, Storm opened the door to the back seat on the driver’s side, shrugged out of his jacket, then tossed it in. No interior lights came on.

  He’d disconnected those for situations just like this one.

  It would have been simpler to wait until he got home to remove his shirt and use a healing chant to aid his powers in sealing the cuts, but the smell of his blood might be bothering her, reminding her of the fight, so he yanked off his shirt, ripping open the scab that had already formed.

  She walked around to the passenger side and pulled out a bottle of water from the console. When she returned to his side, she snagged the shirt from his hand and ordered, “Turn around.”

  Any other time, he’d find her bossiness sexy, but there’d been nothing playful in her tone. Worry poured off of her in angry waves.

  The things a man did for a woman.

  He complied, closing the door, then putting his crossed arms against the top of the car and leaning on them.

  She grumbled under her breath about how letting him fight was stupid. Just as he’d thought, she was stressing over his fight with the Alterant.

  Water sloshed behind him, then the wet rag brushed gently across his back. He still flinched from the cold contact. Good thing he kept an extra change of clothes in his truck. While he let her clean off the blood, he tried to be at ease with her attention, but just having her hands so close to him raised an interest he’d be hard-pressed to hide soon. He hadn’t been injured enough to warrant this much concern. The cuts were more nuisance than serious for him and she knew that.

  Evalle didn’t nurture, but like everything else she did when she cared about someone, it was all or none. That meant she’d dive into battle with any creature if it meant protecting the ones who mattered to her.

  But she was no Florence Nightingale.

  Not that he was complaining.

  Especially when her fingers grazed his skin.

  Heat blazed a trail from his back to his groin from just that slight touch.

  No longer grouching at him, she moved the rag over his skin slowly in what she probably thought was a soothing way, but having her touch him was killing him. He stayed in perpetual arousal around her as it was.

  Shutting his eyes, he tried to focus on the cold mountain air, the soft breeze, anything but how much he wanted her hands everywhere on his skin. This was neither the time nor the place. Tell your body that.

  The rag disappeared.

  Her hands slid up his back, slowly, inching her way to his shoulders.

  Really?

  He froze, straining not to flex muscles that urged him to push against her hands. Her warm touch crawled up his neck, fingers gliding through his hair, then moving back over his shoulders and along his arms. She paused, then placed her hands on each side of his waist.

  His lungs tightened, holding his next breath while he waited to see what she’d do.

  In the past few weeks, she’d become more trusting of his advances, more open to the first stages of passion, but her instigating this much touching was unexpected.

  Her fingers slid around front to where she ran her hands over his stomach.

  That brought her chest to his back.

  Her breasts nudged him.

  Blood surged in his groin.

  His heart beat out of control. He’d known this moment when she’d be ready for intimacy was coming, but damn, he hadn’t wanted it out here in the woods.

  What had brought out her amorous side tonight? Seeing Storm so close to being killed? He’d envisioned her naked in front of a roaring fire or spread across his bed or under a rush of water in his shower.

  She hugged him.

  Her fingers inched up to hook his shoulders.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead. He had to be careful with his next move. Someone had hurt her physically in the past, to the point that she avoided intimacy. She was afraid of losing control of her beast and killing him. He’d intended to spend hours when the time was right, taking it slow, halting the minute she showed any sign of panic.

  But not here.

  With natural and unnatural creatures roaming this mountain, this was the last place he would lower his guard to put all his attention on her.

  On the other hand, if he stopped her now, she’d feel rejected.

  She kissed his back and moved her fingers down to toy with his nipples. Erotic chills skittered across his skin. He shook with the effort of holding back, caught in indecision. His heart thudded each beat, a fist pounding his chest. If he got any harder he’d burst out of his jeans.

  Easing away from the truck, he lifted his arms and turned slowly until he had her wrapped up against him.

  She laughed and the sound floated around him, warming his heart when she hugged him back.

  This was the woman he wanted with all his being.

  When she lifted her head, her eyes were hidden behind the dark sunglasses. She could take those off with so little moonlight filtering down through the trees above them. But he didn’t need to see her eyes to know she was happy. Pleasure flowed from her, wafting across his empathic senses.

  Then her desire rushed around him, flooding his senses as if released from a gate.

  Hell, yes, he wanted this. Wanted her.

  She licked his chest and he shuddered.

  Protecting the hellion came first, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t indulge in a few minutes of play. He’d scent anyone long before they
got close.

  Slowly, carefully as always, he lowered his head and kissed her. His lips melded with hers. His kisses had been the one pleasure she’d taken to enthusiastically from the start, even when they’d first met as adversaries. Holding her head, he turned her gently for better access, deepening the kiss little by little.

  Energy surged through his veins. His jaguar growled for more. To mark her as his.

  To mate.

  But Evalle’s skin was hot, so hot it felt combustible, and that had him thinking about combusting.

  Evalle’s passion ignited suddenly.

  She grabbed his hair, yanking him closer and kissing him as though fire roared through her blood. She ground her hips against him, rubbing the rigid erection already aching inside his pants.

  He clenched his jaw and groaned at the throbbing.

  That was his Evalle, never halfway in on anything. She finally trusted him enough to let go and explore what had sizzled between them for weeks. Felt like eons.

  He loved her mouth, gorged himself on her.

  Don’t rush her.

  Just one more step forward for now. Holding her head with one hand, he moved his other to tug the bottom of her T-shirt free and slide his hand up silky skin. She shivered as he caressed his way up to . . . her sweet breast. No bra. Mercy.

  His thumb brushed across the beaded tip and she sucked in a harsh breath. “Oh, yesss.”

  Damn right. He kissed her with raw passion, no holding back. A kiss that told her everything he wanted to do to her, and more. Her tongue danced with his in a sensual tangle. His fingers played with one breast then the other until she was shaking with need.

  Hell, he was shaking with need.

  An earthy moan escaped her. Another sound like that and he’d drop to his knees and give her everything she wanted. She hissed and arched her hips forward, and every muscle in his body clenched when she brushed his erection with bold intention. She bit his lip gently, then licked it, soothing any pain. Heat built low and pooled in his balls.

  She was so potent that touching her was killing brain cells by the second.

  He had to slow down or he’d rip her clothes off right here and now. Just as he lifted his head to catch a breath and suggest they make plans to go horizontal in a comfortable spot at home, she unsnapped his jeans and shoved her hand inside to grasp him.