The Curse (Beladors)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  “If that’s all you need, not a problem. Evalle has this misplaced sense of honor that will force her to come looking for Tristan and his sister. I’ll compel Kizira to lay a trail for Evalle that leads to Tŵr Medb.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  For the millionth time, I am not going there.” Evalle slapped her hand down on the island counter in her kitchen. Why wouldn’t Lanna let her enjoy a quiet Sunday night after all she’d been through? “Storm doesn’t want to see me. Besides, I have a job to do.”

  If she knew where to start looking for Tristan, she’d leave now, but the Medb had Tristan … if Kizira’s warlocks hadn’t killed him after he’d teleported Evalle away from the farmhouse. It was going to take some time to find out where he was.

  If he still lived.

  She hoped so and would start searching tomorrow. If Tzader caught her out walking the streets tonight there’d be hell to pay.

  Lanna had showered and changed to a bubble-gum pink sweater and jeans after having swung by the hotel to retrieve her small suitcase. The clothes gave her the appearance of an innocent teenager, but she called herself a sorceress.

  Could she actually be a sorceress?

  Picking up a lug nut, Lanna tossed it to Feenix, who snagged the treat with his tongue, then danced around chortling. Lanna said, “Tzader said you take time off. That was order. I know. I heard.”

  “That doesn’t mean I have to go out to dinner.”

  “What do I tell Quinn? He does not like you unhappy.”

  “And that’s the only reason he gave you that message for me.” Evalle had a moment of excitement when Lanna had first delivered Quinn’s message, then reality had set in. Quinn and Tzader had witnessed the looks of shock—and horror—on faces when she shifted into a beast.

  Of all people, they would know how deeply that reaction cut her and, of course, want to do what they could to soothe her.

  “You call my cousin liar?” Lanna could arrange her face into a seriously mean look for a teen.

  “Of course not, it’s just that—”

  “Oh. Now you have gift to see future?”

  “No.” Sarcastic little snot.

  “You say you like Storm. How can you know he does not still like you?”

  Evalle shoved a handful of damp hair over her shoulder. Why had she spilled her guts to Lanna on the way home this morning? Because she’d never felt so alone and she’d had no one to talk to but Lanna.

  “Cousin said—”

  “I know, Lanna. The Belador warriors are proud of me, and Storm wasn’t given the chance to speak to me before I left.” Evalle would not put Storm on the spot to see her again just to prove Lanna wrong. She’d seen his face. He would still treat her as a friend, but she’d started thinking of him as more than a friend. Much more.

  Someone she didn’t want to lose.

  “Do you not want Storm?”

  Just cut me to the bone. “This discussion is over.” Besides, Evalle had to focus on finding Tristan and his group. She owed him for helping her escape. She would not leave him to the murdering Medb.

  But she would not have Storm’s help tracking Tristan this time.

  She already missed Storm ranting at her about how Tristan could not be depended upon.

  Lanna played patty-cake with Feenix, whose wings fluttered as he hovered in front of Lanna where his hands could reach to hit hers. “I saw way Storm hold you when we teleport. His eyes only for you. Why you let Adrianna win?”

  Feeling that strike right through her heart, Evalle opened her mouth to snarl at the brat, hoping to shut her up, then Lanna added, “She is nothing next to you.”

  Lanna’s words cheered Evalle’s bruised heart, but that didn’t make the words true. “You saw Adrianna at the building. She’s beautiful. I will never look anything like that woman or say the right things to a man or ooze sexuality the way it drips off her. I can’t do it. And now Storm’s seen me as a monster.”

  Lanna cocked her head to the side, black-tipped curls bouncing. “If Storm wanted someone else, he would not look at you as if you are his world. Clothes, makeup and hair … same as swords and daggers. Me? I am most excellent with female weapons. I would not let go of man like Storm and leave spoils to Adrianna … or any other women.”

  The thought of any other woman touching Storm hurt Evalle’s heart. She crossed her arms, refusing to engage any longer with this pint-size spawn of Dr. Phil.

  Lanna gave her a sly glance. “If you want to keep women away from your man, you must prepare for battle. Do you not tell me Storm will look for you at night until you show?”

  “I’m not going.” Evalle couldn’t let Lanna talk her into humiliating herself.

  “You would let this man wait forever?”

  Would Storm wait forever? Hope quivered inside her, but Evalle shut the door on wishful thinking. “He’ll realize in a couple days I’m not coming.”

  “So you agree he waits for you tonight?”

  How had Lanna cornered her this way? “Maybe, but that was before—”

  “You are not coward when you fight trolls and demons. You risk your life for strangers, but not your heart for man you want?” Lanna stopped smiling and patted Feenix on top of his head. “Storm would fight for you. He fought for your queen … for you. He does not deserve same?”

  That struck home deeper than everything else Lanna had said.

  Storm had come through for Evalle time and again. He’d taught her that a man could touch her without harm. He’d awakened her heart, and she feared the frightened organ would never beat again if he walked away from her forever.

  But Lanna was right.

  Evalle owed it to Storm to show up and give him a chance to say what he thought. If he wanted only to continue as friends, she’d honor that … from a distance. If he wanted nothing else to do with her, she’d accept that even though it would rip her heart in half. “I’ll go.”

  Lanna’s eyes lit up with excitement until Evalle said, “Quinn’s driver refused to leave, so he can take you to the hotel, then drop me at my bike.”

  “No. You go nowhere like that. Take Cousin’s car to see Storm so you dress nice.”

  Evalle looked down at her jeans and T-shirt and back up at Lanna. “I don’t have dressy clothes.”

  “Good thing for you I stop at hotel for suitcase.”

  Evalle now feared what Lanna had in mind, but she feared losing Storm more.

  The next thirty minutes became a battle of wills with Lanna determined to put Evalle in a dress with heels. Seriously?

  When Lanna declared Evalle ready to leave the apartment, Evalle took one last look in the mirror and decided she’d never be Adrianna.

  Lanna fussed at her over how late it was getting to be and how Quinn would be back at the hotel suite by now, playing Evalle’s guilty nerves to get her moving.

  Quinn’s driver dropped Lanna at the hotel first. Before getting out, Lanna leaned over and hugged Evalle, whispering, “Remember. You are like Brasko woman. Too sexy to ignore.”

  Evalle hugged the brat and waited until Lanna was safely inside the hotel before leaving. Quinn might be in residence, but it was after eleven at night out here on the streets.

  When the car pulled up in front of Storm’s house, she experienced a moment of cold feet. Two icebergs.

  She started second-guessing the blue sweater she’d allowed to be sparkled, as Lanna put it. The dress never happened. No way those tiny things that Lanna had offered to share would have fit her, and in the end Lanna admitted that Storm would want Evalle to look like herself, but with sparkles. She’d agreed to the glittery sweater, black jeans and her favorite boots, which felt dressed up compared to her normal look.

  Lanna’s shoes wouldn’t have fit or been worth a dime for fighting even if they had.

  Evalle fussed at her hair again, which fell around her shoulders, soft against her collarbone and neck.

  Thanking the driver, she dismissed him. If this didn’t go well, she’d call telepat
hically to Quinn or Tzader for a ride. Tzader had sent her a text that everyone had returned home from Treoir. He’d ended the message by reminding her about taking the time to heal.

  Since he’d heard Evalle tell Brina that she could heal her physical injuries from the battle, had he been alluding to emotional wounds?

  If this didn’t go well tonight, she doubted a lifetime would heal this wound.

  Regardless of tonight’s outcome, she had to start making some decisions about her personal life. She might not be ready for the intimacy she’d seen in Storm’s eyes the last time he held her, but she had to take a step forward at some point soon—if he gave her the chance.

  Crossing the veranda to Storm’s front door, she glanced at his boarded-up picture window. The one he’d crashed through in jaguar form to reach her before Svart trolls killed her.

  He deserved a woman worthy of a man like him.

  Not a beast.

  Taking a deep breath of determination, Evalle knocked on his door and held that breath until it opened.

  He stood backlit by firelight flickering deep inside his living room. He’d changed to jeans and a black pullover that only deepened the color of his skin. Freshly washed hair hung around his proud Native American face. He smelled of the night, a dark sensuality. She tried to memorize everything about him in case she never saw him again.

  Storm’s face went from blank to confused. He stared at her from head to toe.

  The brittle silence answered her questions.

  She’d been an idiot to come here thinking he’d forgotten what he’d seen twelve hours ago. Longer than that since she’d procrastinated till almost midnight.

  He hadn’t said a word and she couldn’t bear up any longer under his intense scrutiny, but she wouldn’t make this difficult for him. “I can see by your silence that you’ve changed your mind about dinner.”

  She turned and took a step away.

  “Do I get a chance to talk?”

  How could she deny him? Besides, she doubted he could say anything that would hurt worse than losing him would. Evalle shifted back around. “Guess that would only be fair.”

  “I’m angry.”

  “I know.”

  “First you kiss Isak.”

  “I know.” But she’d told him that kissing Isak was not the same as kissing Storm. Completely different. When Storm kissed her, the world disappeared. She had nothing else to say to explain what had happened with Isak.

  “I did as you wanted at Treoir and went with the team when I wanted to stay with you.”

  “I know.”

  “Then I had to watch you fight that demonic troll.”

  “I know.” You had to watch me turn into a monster.

  “Is ‘I know’ all you’re going to say?”

  She’d been wrong. She couldn’t go through this and not lose control of her emotions. “No. Yes. I can’t do this.”

  She turned around again to leave and his hands settled on her shoulders. If another man had touched her right now, she’d have hurt him, but with her heart cracking she didn’t have the strength to fight. And she’d never harm Storm.

  She drew in a raw breath and said, “I have to go.”

  “No.” He wrapped his arms around her as if he thought she’d go running off. “I’ve been sitting here for hours getting angrier by the moment.”

  “I can’t help what I am,” she whispered.

  He made a noise she took as underscoring his aggravation with her. He said, “I thought I was angry when I saw Isak kiss you, but that was nothing compared to when you left Treoir without speaking to me first.”

  “I couldn’t face you.” There. She’d admitted she was a coward after all.

  “Now I realize you left without speaking to me because you thought I wouldn’t want you after seeing what you’d shifted into. That didn’t matter to me.”

  Tears threatened to ruin Lanna’s hard work on Evalle’s mascara. She choked out, “Stop being nice, Storm. I saw the shock on your face when I was in beast form. I don’t blame you.”

  He cursed. “When are you ever going to trust me? I was shocked that you killed the demonic troll. I went insane when Tzader had Beladors pin me down and came close to shifting. Do you have any idea what I was going through watching you almost die, again, at the hands of a troll and I couldn’t get to you?”

  She took his words into her heart and dared to hope. “You really aren’t repulsed by what I turned into?”

  He swung her around in his arms and brought her close, nose to nose. “You are the most beautiful woman between earth and heaven to me in any form. I don’t care what you can turn into … as long as you end up in my arms.”

  A tear slipped out and ran down her face. He’d called her beautiful. Lanna would probably take credit for that, which Evalle had no problem with. To be thought of as beautiful by Storm, if only for one night, was like all her wishes coming true at once.

  He lifted her chin and used his thumb to wipe away her tear. His sexy voice smoked over her. “Know what happens now?”

  She smiled, shaking her head.

  “My favorite part, where we kiss and make up.” Then he kissed her without restraint.

  She’d come to realize how carefully Storm handled her, but tonight he opened the gates to his desire, holding her with fierce possession.

  Was she ready for everything his kiss offered?

  Would she disappoint him if he overwhelmed her?

  What if—

  He lifted his head and smiled at her. “Stop worrying and start trusting that I’ll never hurt you and never ask more than you can give. Can you do that tonight?”

  “Yes.” She relaxed, willing to trust herself alone with Storm, and looked forward to spending time with him that didn’t involve trolls, demons, or teleporting.

  That could wait until she convinced him to help her track down Tristan.

  Building a unique world with rich details often requires using unusual names and terms. These are sometimes fictional as well as being drawn from actual mythology.

  Below is a list of pronunciations.

  Asháninka [ash – AH – neen – kah]

  Batuk [bah – TOOK]

  Belador [BELL – ah – door]

  Birnn demon [beern demon]

  Cú Chulainn [KOO – ku – lin]

  Ekkbar [ECK – bar]

  Evalle [EE – vahl]

  Flaevynn [FLAY – vin]

  Gixxer [JICKS – er]

  Kizira [kuh – ZEER – ah]

  Kujoo [KOO – joe]

  Loch Ryve [lock reeve]

  Medb [MAEVE or MAVE]

  Nhivoli [neh – VO – lee]

  Nihar [NEE – har]

  Noirre [nwar – EH or nwar – A]

  Treoir [TRAY – or]

  Tzader [ZA – der]

  Vyan [VIE – an … first part rhymes with BYE]

  Turn the page for a sneak peek of

  RISE OF THE GRYPHON

  BOOK 4 IN THE BELADOR SERIES

  BY SHERRILYN KENYON AND DIANNA LOVE

  Coming soon from Pocket Books

  Dependable intel made the difference in either walking away alive from a dangerous situation … or not.

  Evalle Kincaid stared down the rocky slope at bad intel.

  She’d dug up one slim lead in forty-eight hours of racing to find Tristan, an Alterant like her, right down to his glowing green eyes. Except he hadn’t been gifted with her natural night vision, an ability she’d needed while hiking up this mountain in the middle of the night.

  She muttered, “That’s no coven meeting.”

  “No,” Storm agreed, his breath puffing white clouds against the chilly October air. He saw just fine, too, with preternatural night vision. “Looks more like a midnight festival for all things strange and dangerous.” Coal-black hair grazed his shoulders and blended into his black leather jacket. Soft hair she loved caressing. The coppery skin and sharp angles on his cheeks had been handed down through a mix of Ashaninka and Navajo g
enes, along with his Skinwalker ability to shift into a deadly black jaguar.

  Evalle leaned forward where they hunkered down behind an outcropping of boulders, and searched the area fifty yards away where moonlight cascaded across a valley. At least twenty people—nonhumans—had gathered, and more were coming. “You see any female in that bunch that might be a witch?”

  Storm shook his head. “Only male human forms so far. Not even sure what some of those things are that have both animal and human parts.”

  One creature with an eight-foot-long orange lizard body, two sets of human arms, and a vulture’s head skulked through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea in front of him. Most of the beings meandered around a thirty-foot-wide circle created by torches stuck in the ground. A ceremonial circle?

  Storm asked, “Think the goddess’ll extend your deadline?”

  “Again? Not a chance. I was amazed when Macha gave me four more days.” That had been two days ago and Evalle had been given that reprieve from losing her freedom only because she’d defeated a demon Svart troll before it killed everything in its path.

  Opportunities like that didn’t come along every day.

  Good thing or she’d stay in perpetual traction.

  But gaining a couple extra days of freedom from Macha had balanced out getting beaten to a pulp by the Svart. Macha was goddess over all the Beladors, a race of powerful Celtic warriors who protected humans who didn’t even know preternatural creatures existed. She’d offered sanctuary in her pantheon to all Alterants who swore fealty to her.

  With a catch. Evalle first had to deliver the origin of Alterants, who were part Belador and part unknown. Since Alterants changed from human form into beasts that could kill even powerful beings, Macha wanted that unknown part cleared up before giving carte blanche freedom to Alterants.

  And Tristan had that information.

  But more than that, he’d helped Evalle escape a deadly enemy last week and gotten captured while doing it. She didn’t want to think about the hideous ways he might be suffering. Freeing him was her first priority.