The Curse (Beladors)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  “Done.”

  When Lanna started to protest, Evalle put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “That’s the safest place for you to be, because we won’t let the Svarts anywhere near the castle.”

  Tzader told Evalle, “You take her there.”

  “Me? Why do I have to take her?”

  “Are you questioning me?” Tzader asked in full Maistir mode and out of patience.

  Good grief. What had she been thinking to speak so freely with Tzader in this situation? “Absolutely not, Maistir. My apologies.”

  He nodded. “Brina will give you a sword when you get there. Protect the entrance to the castle.”

  Evalle had a chance to fight with the tribe on Treoir and she’d been relegated to babysitter and front-door guard. The Beladors would stop the trolls before reaching that point, leaving her out of the battle, but the last thing she wanted was to give Tzader any more reason to be disappointed in her.

  She handed off her Nyght weapon to Trey.

  Tzader finished issuing orders and turned to Storm. “You can’t shift here without Brina’s explicit permission, and I don’t have time to take you to her to discuss your presence on Treoir, but there’s a sword for you, too.”

  Storm asked Tzader, “What happens if I shift without permission?”

  “You’ll burst into flames.”

  Storm lifted a sword, then turned back as if he intended to stay by Evalle’s side.

  She shook her head, silently pleading with him not to make things any worse for her by refusing to follow Tzader’s orders. Storm held her gaze a moment, then left with the team he’d been assigned to, disappearing into the woods.

  Ready to follow Tzader’s orders to a T, Evalle asked Lanna, “How fast can you move?”

  “Fast.”

  She took the girl’s hand and ran toward the castle with her Belador speed. No one had to hold back powers here, but Evalle slowed to a human pace when she noticed the girl used majik to hover above the ground every few steps to keep up.

  Halfway to the castle, howling screeches erupted behind her in the forest. Her tribe had found the Svarts. But how many? Sounded like a lot more than eight in those woods.

  When Evalle reached the castle steps, she released Lanna’s hand and stopped to peer up at the towering structure that was both fairy tale and dark fantasy. Blue, purple and black stones made up the outside with a Belador Triquetra carved into every blue stone. Two massive wood-and-iron doors fifteen feet tall and just as wide, together, opened into the castle.

  Brina appeared in the opening, but stopped short of crossing the threshold. She frowned at Evalle. “Why aren’t you with Tzader?”

  Evalle grabbed a mute Lanna by the arm and towed her up the steps until they reached the first landing. “He told me to guard the entrance and bring Lanna here.”

  “Who is she an’ what would she be doin’ here?”

  “Quinn’s cousin and—”

  Brina studied harder on Lanna. “You are not Belador.”

  “No. I am Romanian.”

  Evalle continued up the last two steps to the wide, gray slab at the top landing. “She traveled with us by accident.”

  “Storm traveled same way,” Lanna pointed out, clearly looking for safety in numbers.

  What had Quinn called her? Brat. That fit. Evalle turned to Brina. “That was also an accident. We were in the middle of a VIPER op when Quinn entered the mind of a Svart troll and found out they were coming for you. Tzader had Sen teleport us so neither Storm nor Lanna knows how to find Treoir.”

  Brina nodded. “The royal guard just reported encounterin’ Svart trolls. We’ve already lost two of our own.”

  Evalle’s empathic ability came to life, picking up the anguish rolling off Brina, who had to be even more frustrated than Evalle about not joining the battle.

  When the sound of howls erupted from the forest again, Brina asked, “Where is the other one who came with you?”

  “Storm is fighting with the Beladors.”

  “Those Svarts found out how to get here,” Brina said under her breath. “I will not sanction those two who traveled with you if Tzader feels they pose no security issue.”

  “Thank you.” Evalle wondered who told the Svarts how to get to Treoir … or who teleported them here, but that was up to Tzader and Brina to figure out. She said to Brina, “Quinn respectfully requests that you keep Lanna inside the castle while we deal with Svarts.”

  Brina asked Lanna, “Are you immortal?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because you would die if you tried to cross the warding into this castle if you were. Come in.” The minute Lanna entered, Brina told her, “Go over and stand with Allyn and the guards.”

  Evalle leaned to look past Brina and saw a wall of guards who would surround Brina and protect her to the end if anything got past the doors. After it had gone through Evalle.

  A screaming howl like a devil on a killing spree spun Evalle around.

  Stomping out of the woods and onto the field came the largest Svart Evalle had seen so far. Had to be twelve feet tall. He wore a rough-cut, brown leather vest and matching pants that stopped at his knees.

  Brina said, “Even from here I can see the yellow eyes of a demon. How can a troll be so powerful?”

  The demon troll swatted Beladors aside like flies.

  A shining Belador sword appeared before Evalle.

  She snatched it out of the air, ready to defend this castle. Adrenaline pumped through her, firing up the Alterant beast inside with the urge to fight. Cartilage snapped, lifting a ridge of skin along the top of her forearms. All Beladors could shift their bodies to battle form, but she had to be careful to stop at this point or her Alterant beast would break free.

  She’d force her beast to remain caged, but something told Evalle she could not face another demonic troll in this human body and walk away alive. But shifting fully into beast form would break her oath to Macha and dictate Evalle’s immediate death.

  The battle between Beladors and Svart trolls filtered out of the forest into the open field. Working together in a place where the Belador power only strengthened, warriors appeared to be gaining on the Svarts.

  All except the demonic troll. He picked up speed as he headed toward the castle.

  Brina beat her fist against the doorframe. “I hate bein’ stuck in here like a glass treasure.”

  Evalle doubted the sword she held was going to stop that particular Svart. She called out to Trey, We need the Nyght weapon at the castle.

  Trey answered, The weapon doesn’t work here.

  Ah, crap. Are you killing Svarts with swords?

  Yes, but not the demonic troll. Nothing kills him. He’s crushed two Beladors.

  Yellow eyes glowed bright as lightbulbs in the demon Svart as his face came into better view with each thundering step. A female Belador warrior attacked him. He slowed to lift her off the ground and rip her body in half.

  Brina shouted, “That vermin is killin’ my people! Tzader has to—”

  “Don’t call him, Brina.”

  “Why not? He is Maistir.”

  Evalle understood more than Brina realized. The warrior queen thought since Tzader was immortal—something Evalle couldn’t admit knowing—that he could handle the troll and survive, but Brina was wrong.

  Keeping her eyes on the approaching threat, Evalle pointed out, “You don’t want Tzader to link with the Beladors and risk this thing killing everyone with one blow.”

  “Of course not. That would be mass murder.”

  Evalle gave Brina a sobering truth, careful not to point out Tzader’s immortality. “Even Tzader can’t survive if that thing bites off his head.”

  Brina’s fists gripped so hard her knuckles turned white. She said, “We need Macha, but I do not think I can reach her.”

  “Where is she?”

  “At the Tribunal meeting, the one place she cannot hear my call.”

  That’s right. Evalle would have to face Macha so
on, and without Tristan, but that wasn’t her top concern right this minute.

  Brina ran her fingers through her hair, thinking out loud. “The only way to be sendin’ a message to her right now is through Sen, but I cannot take him away from Atlanta until we send Beladors back. When Tzader arrived, he told me Sen was dealin’ with the last of the Svarts there.” She took a breath and said, “I’m guessin’ we’ve about four or five minutes before that troll reaches us.”

  The unknown female voice that popped into Evalle’s mind at the most bizarre times chose that moment to speak again. Believing is the hardest thing to learn, but believing in yourself should be the easiest to do.

  Evalle shouted inside her mind, If you’re so smart, why don’t you tell me who you are?

  She ignored the distraction, focusing instead on the one thing she could do. She told Brina, “I can stop that Svart if you’ll help me.”

  “Name it.”

  Evalle swallowed. “Give me permission to shift fully into my Alterant beast state. Once I kill this Svart, I’ll shift back into my human form.” When Brina didn’t reply, Evalle said, “I can do this … if it won’t get you in trouble with the Tribunal.”

  “They have no say over what happens outside the realm of Earth, an’ Treoir is not of that world, but I do not think that is a good idea.”

  “In that case, if you aren’t going to give me permission, then take Lanna an’ hide somewhere that troll can’t find you. I’ll hold him off as long as I can.”

  “Evalle, come with us or he’ll kill you.”

  “I’m a warrior. My duty is to defend Treoir at all costs. You asked me to trust you in the past,” Evalle said, her heart slamming her chest as the demon got closer. “I’m asking you to trust me and allow me to shift. If you do, order the Beladors to stay back or Tzader and Quinn will interfere.”

  No Belador could act against Brina’s orders while here on Treoir, even if they wanted to. Storm might try, since he was not of the tribe. Evalle could only hope that Tzader would be able to stop Storm so he didn’t die trying to help her.

  In the next heartbeat, Brina said, “Evalle Kincaid, I give you permission to shift into your Alterant form. But know that if you do not shift back, Macha will destroy you.”

  “I understand. Now, please, move to the safest place you can with Lanna … in case I don’t stop him.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  Evalle drew on the power she held deep inside, calling up her beast. She walked down the steps of Treoir Castle as the change came over her. Power surged from her core, flooding her limbs until bones cracked and altered with her shape. Her clothes shredded away from muscles that bulged and twisted into grotesque shapes.

  Her feet burst out of her boots, toes curling with claws.

  Pain ricocheted through her head as jawbones popped and cracked, widening to accept the double row of jagged fangs. Scales covered her torso, and coarse black hair hung from her arms and legs.

  Even when she reached ten feet in height, the demon troll still towered over her, but Evalle didn’t care. She’d either prove her value to the Beladors here and now or die trying.

  She flipped the sword over in her hand, holding the blade like a throwing dagger in her thick fingers now that her hands had outgrown the weapon. One strong strike could end this quickly. She threw the sword at the troll’s chest.

  He shocked her with his agility, spinning around as the sword flew past him and stuck into the ground.

  She fisted her hands and threw kinetic blasts at him.

  He staggered back a step, howled and kept coming.

  She charged him, hoping her momentum would balance out the difference in size. Head down, she slammed him in the middle. He went backward, but her eyes crossed from the power of the hit. Falling forward on top of him, she scrambled off and whipped onto her feet, ready.

  The blasted troll was just as quick.

  He lunged and swung a fist at her, opening his fingers at the last moment to swipe three sharp claws across her chest. She growled at the slash of agony burning her skin and drove her fist into the troll’s jaw.

  She kicked him in the crotch.

  That should have taken him to his knees, but didn’t.

  He battled her slug for slug, back and forth, draining her stamina.

  She shoved away, backing up several steps as if she retreated.

  His eyes glowed a putrid yellow with black diamond centers when he smiled.

  You haven’t beaten me yet. But he would if this didn’t end soon. Blood dripped from the side of her mouth and more flowed from the gouge on her chest. She lifted a hand and waved him forward, taunting him to come at her.

  And he did.

  She waited until the last possible second, hoping she still possessed reflexes quick enough to dodge. His mouth opened in a snarl, claws reaching for more blood.

  She dove down, taking his feet out from under him. Fear of being pinned under his weight gave her a burst of speed to push herself through his legs.

  He hit the ground, dropping like a ten-story building.

  She shoved up to her feet, swaying, then dove onto his back.

  She grabbed his head and twisted.

  His neck didn’t break. Ah, crap.

  He growled, teeth snapping. In a fast move, he bent his arms, pushing himself up off the ground and flipping backward to land with her beneath him.

  His brutal weight hit hard on top of her. Ribs cracked. Hers. Excruciating pain blinded her.

  She didn’t have the strength to draw on her beast to heal.

  Power barreled through her.

  Tzader and Quinn were linking with her. No, it’s too dangerous.

  New energy pulsed in Evalle’s veins, aiding her to keep fighting. But no matter how hard they fed their energy into the link, Tzader and Quinn couldn’t send enough power to fuel the body of her beast.

  The troll rolled off her and pushed up on his knees. He reached for her throat.

  She slammed a fist into his head and then flipped away.

  He growled and grabbed a fist of her hair, yanking her back until she could see the fangs in his open mouth.

  Reaching her hand out, she used kinetics to call back the sword that had missed hitting the troll. The cool metal handle slammed into her hand as the troll’s jaws came down for her throat. She slashed across his throat.

  Green blood spewed over her.

  Eyes bulging, the troll hung there suspended for a second until Evalle shoved him to the side where his body twitched and jerked.

  The giant finally stopped moving.

  Her ribs screamed in pain, but she got to her knees, then her feet, weaving where she stood. As Tzader and Quinn unlinked with her, Evalle’s body trembled from the brutal attack. She ached everywhere, except in her heart, where happiness exploded over having protected their warrior queen.

  The silence drew Evalle’s eyes to the field between her and the forest where Beladors stood among dead trolls and the bodies of fallen Belador warriors.

  With the exception of Tzader and Quinn, who had seen her once before in her beast state, mouths gaped open on every other Belador.

  Storm was in the grasp of two warriors, as if they’d had to hold him back at one time, but not now. The shock in his eyes tore her insides apart worse than her cracked ribs.

  Tears flooded her eyes, but she squeezed them shut, refusing to show her hurt. What had she expected? That they would see past the hideous monster she’d shifted into … to the woman who fought to be accepted?

  A roar went up among the Beladors, but Evalle had already turned toward the castle.

  She found no joy in the cheering, which was nothing more than the cry of victory over an enemy defeated.

  The horror in their faces would live in the back of her mind. She’d thought nothing could be worse than being an outcast.

  Now the Beladors would see her as something much worse.

  A monster.

  She lumbered across the soft grass toward the castle, f
orcing her beast back into her body. By the time she reached the steps, she had her head down to keep the glare of even the minimal light from blinding her.

  Lanna stood on the top landing with a robe in one hand and sunglasses in the other, which she stuck under Evalle’s nose. “Brina said give this to you.”

  Brina had to be the reason that troll goo no longer covered Evalle. Sliding the glasses onto her face, Evalle pulled on the dark blue velvet robe trimmed in gold.

  “Evalle,” Brina called from the doorway.

  “Yes.” Evalle could barely get the word out past her raw throat. She met Brina’s gaze, surprised to see admiration in her warrior queen’s eyes.

  “I am as proud of you as any warrior I’ve ever had.”

  Tears threatened again, but Evalle swallowed them back. “Thank you.”

  Tzader ran up the steps beside her. “How badly are you hurt, Evalle?”

  “Not bad,” she lied, feeling the trickle of warm blood running down her chest.

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “You saved a lot of lives, but to protect Brina is …” He looked away. “We’ll talk later.”

  Evalle nodded and accepted Tzader’s hug, flinching at the pain in her ribs.

  Tzader turned on Brina, demanding, “How could you stop me from going to her?”

  Evalle held up her hand. “I asked Brina to keep all of you back. If I couldn’t kill that troll, then you would have died trying to help me. You’re too important to the Beladors to sacrifice yourself, and you’re the one who taught me duty comes first.”

  He scowled at her.

  Quinn showed up next, just as ragged and bleeding around the edges as Tzader. He shook his head, saying to Evalle, “I don’t know who took more bloody years off my life today, you or Lanna. You two are turning me into an old man.”

  Lanna hugged Quinn. “You are unharmed, Cousin?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Tzader said to Brina, “I know Evalle’s hurt worse than she’s admitting. I could feel it when we linked and I smell the blood. She needs to heal.”