Dragon King Of Treoir: Belador Book 8

by Dianna Love

  Lightning and thunder rocked the skies.

  Huh, that was the first time there’d been any of that with the rain, which made it feel a little more natural.

  Was this four straight days of rain now?

  No, it was actually closer to five. She’d dismiss it as one of those unexplained Georgia weather events, but her noisy instincts kept saying that the unnatural fog below had to be tied to the rain.

  Those instincts had been right too many times to dismiss.

  The only positive was that the inclement weather could be confirmation that they were in the right place.

  Sidestepping to reach a spot where they could almost stand, Tristan whispered, “That wasn’t so bad.”

  She didn’t look at him. “You don’t want me to answer that.”

  “Give me a break.”

  “Give you a break?” She arched her neck to look him in the face. “You have no sense of direction. You landed us five miles away and way the hell up there.” She pointed above her head. “You know I hate heights.”

  “Don’t be a baby. Not like you wouldn’t survive a fall. I got us close.”

  “Teleporting down here would have been close.”

  “To do it again so soon would have required linking. Thought we agreed to save that for an emergency.” When she waved off his comment, Tristan looked to the skies as if he were begging for patience.

  Good luck with that.

  He wiped a hand over his mouth and returned to business. “It’s all good. We’ll have to be quiet in case we walk up on someone.” Then he switched to telepathy. In fact, why are we talking when we can be silent?

  She glared at him and answered in an audible whisper. “Because the men we fought in Atlanta have telepathy, and it wasn’t private when it should have been. We have no idea if they can pick up our conversation or if the person behind all this can. Don’t you remember the first time Daegan heard a private telepathic conversation between you and me?”

  “Well, sure, but ... that was Daegan.”

  “Does that mean he’s the only special snowflake who can do that?”

  Clearly short on comebacks, he looked around. “Let’s get moving and find the tomb.”

  Typical Tristan.

  Then he said, “Yes, he is a special snowflake.”

  Evalle had spent a lot of time in tight situations with Tristan. He wasn’t acting like the person she’d known for so long. Don’t get her wrong. This was a huge improvement over the Tristan who’d hated anything to do with Beladors at one time.

  She prodded him. “What’s going on with you, Tristan? I’m not complaining, but you’ve changed.”

  He kept walking, leaving her question behind.

  “Let me put it this way. I need to know why you’re doing this.”

  That got to him, because he stopped. “What are you asking me, Evalle?”

  “Something is off about all this. Why the change in attitude? We’re all glad to have Daegan, but you’ve done a complete about-face. I feel like you’re hiding something from me and I’m trying to trust you. Flip that freaking chip off your shoulder and talk to me. Tell me what you really plan to do.”

  He muttered a nasty curse. “You want the truth? Fine. I was shunted around like yesterday’s leftovers as a kid, then my mother sold me to a fucking witch who tried to kill me and my foster sister. Petrina and I managed to escape that, only for me to end up captured by the Beladors and locked away in a jungle prison for four years just because I was born an Alterant.”

  Other than the jungle imprisonment, she hadn’t known any of that and waited silently to see where he was going with this.

  “I don’t fault you for the times you tried to bring me in to join up with the Beladors. I know your heart was in the right place, but the next thing I know I’m a Medb prisoner who’s compelled to do freaking Queen Flaevynn’s bidding. When you asked me to help free a dragon throne from Tŵr Medb, I’d made my mind up to do that, then I was done. I had intended to leave with Petrina and my two friends.”

  He meant two Rías, beings who were similar to Alterants, but not as powerful and, as far as she knew, they wouldn’t evolve into gryphons.

  She shouldn’t be surprised, but hearing him say he’d been ready to cut and run still bothered her. She’d gotten a sucky start to life. Tristan’s hadn’t been any better.

  He breathed in and out while studying the trees around them. After a moment he said, “Then Daegan shifted into a dragon larger than any of our gryphon forms and stepped up to defend us. That ... hell, that shocked me. Next thing I know, he boots that bitch, Macha, off Treoir. He kicked a freaking goddess off the island. I didn’t think that was even possible.”

  “Me either,” she admitted.

  “But damn if he didn’t,” Tristan said with no small amount of admiration in his voice. “Daegan flew around the island with me like we were equal or something.”

  Evalle couldn’t stop her smile. It was good to see Tristan being shown his worth.

  “I wasn’t sure what to think or what I was going to do at that point,” Tristan admitted. “Before Macha left, when she threatened Alterants with withdrawing her support for us to be treated as a recognized race, I thought, here we go again. But then Daegan laughed in her face and said we didn’t need her or some spineless Tribunal to grant us the freedom we were born with.” He shook his head at some inner thought.

  “That hit home. It felt incredible,” Evalle agreed, understanding exactly what he was feeling. She’d felt truly free at that moment.

  “It did. I stuck around more out of curiosity at that point than anything.” He chuckled softly, “Well, that and because I wasn’t sure Daegan wouldn’t torch my ass the minute I tried to leave. You want to know why I’m doing this? This is what he sent me to do. I am not going back to Daegan without solid information on what’s going on. Okay? Now can we get this done or not?”

  Something niggled at her that Tristan was still not telling her everything.

  Pushing Tristan too hard would get her nowhere. She said, “I didn’t see any lights down there when we were up top, but since we’re depending on your infallible sense of direction, lead away, Mr. Rí Dtús.”

  Ignoring her jab, Tristan took off.

  She followed his steps, except his steps were quieter than her trudging. She was not meant for the woods. Give her an urban setting any time. She checked around them constantly and behind to protect their backs. In this miserable weather, the area was as black as the hole it truly was. If not for her sensitive eyesight she’d be blind here.

  After a few minutes, they entered the fog-covered area. It was damp, but no rain fell. The whole area hummed, not loudly, but steadily. Not exactly like the buzzing in Atlanta. This was…heavier. Different.

  Continuing on, she’d walked a hundred yards through narrow patches of trees when a flicker of light came into view. She touched Tristan’s shoulder.

  He turned halfway, whispering, “Saw it.”

  Letting go, she followed as he moved in closer. As the woods thinned, she split away from Tristan to find a tree thick enough to hide behind. She’d stopped too far back to get a good read on the barren area beyond their skimpy woods.

  Even though the rain had ended, mist from the fog coated her sunglasses. While she removed them to clean the lenses, she squinted at the scene taking shape with two tents. The glow on the other side probably came from a fire pit.

  Ambient night lighting didn’t bother her sensitive eyes, but staring straight at any bright light without protection would practically blind her.

  Tristan would be able to see just as well at night, but he’d gotten lucky. He didn’t have to wear specially made sunglasses nor would he turn into a crispy critter if he stepped into the sun.

  Guess I’m just special like that.

  Still, this life was far better than the one she’d lived locked in a basement for the first eighteen years of her life.

  She moved to another tree. The corner of a marble stru
cture came into view in a gap between the tents. That could only be the tomb. It sat on the far side of the camp, but she could tell the base was out of shape. She needed a better vantage point for a clear view of the tomb and the rest of the camp.

  Squatting down, she worked over to her left, moving to where Tristan had taken up a position. When she got to him, Evalle stood up and whispered, “See the tomb?”

  When he nodded yes, she asked, “Can you get a good look at the bottom half? It looks like they’ve padded it with something.”

  “Looks to me like hostages are tied to the tomb.”

  Shit. Evalle stared at it again and realized one blob was moving. Tristan was right. “Oh, hell. That’s Kit, a friend of mine, with the boys. What’s she doing here?”

  “Have no idea. I say we go get them while we can.”

  She felt the same way, but did this qualify as rushing into danger? Probably.

  How could she go in there and face Storm later?

  How could she walk away and risk losing her friends, and face herself later?

  She suggested, “Maybe we should keep an eye on them and contact Quinn. That’s what the plan was when we came here.”

  “I’m surprised we didn’t run into a patrol of some sort already. If too many people show up, that group will scatter. If that happens, they might have someone teleport the tomb, and the hostages, to another location. Then where will we be?”

  She suffered another wave of suspicion that she’d been unable to shake even after Tristan answered her earlier questions.

  This gung-ho drive to take on the enemy now without waiting for backup was beginning to sound as if it had been Tristan’s plan all along. She’d battled alongside Tristan. He could hold up his end of a fight, but this charging forward attitude had never been his MO.

  She asked, “Why are you willing to go in there for three humans you don’t know?”

  Tristan didn’t look her way. “Now I am insulted.”

  If she knew one thing about Tristan, it was the way he’d deflect when he didn’t want to answer something.

  Not this time. She asked, “Why, Tristan?”

  He glared at her. “Why does it surprise you when I do the right thing?”

  He had her there, but suspicion still ran rampant in her gut. She kept her voice quiet, but persisted in finding out what was driving him. Why wasn’t he ready to call in their badass dragon?

  Evalle watched for any movement in the camp, but nothing stirred. They needed to wait long enough to know what they were up against.

  Tristan rarely spoke his mind. He’d shared more about himself earlier than she’d ever gotten from him.

  She wanted to trust his ideas, but she couldn’t risk the safety of those three hostages on some ulterior motive driving her partner.

  “Come on, Tristan. If this is insulting, I’m sorry, because that’s not my intention, but in the past you would have said we got the intel, our job’s done, let’s go. I like this side of you, but—”

  “You don’t trust it,” he said in a tone that dumped a load of guilt on her.

  She was jeopardizing the agreement she’d made with Storm this morning and had three lives hinging on what she and Tristan did. Tough shit if it pissed him off. She needed to get rid of this suspicion grinding at her.

  Trying again, she said, “I’ve learned that you always have a reason for your actions. In the past, your reasons leaned more toward self-preservation than sacrifice.”

  He leaned against a tree, watching the camp. “You may have a point.”

  “Is this about the position Daegan gave you? He doesn’t expect you to fight these battles without him.”

  The struggle to explain ravaged his face. He finally let out a deep breath. “Like I said earlier, things have changed. I flew with Daegan his first day on the island,” Tristan said. “We landed at one point and he told me he meant what he’d said. That I was free to leave whenever I wanted. He said he needed dependable and capable warriors like me, but he’d understand if I couldn’t stay.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. Tristan lifted his head and met her gaze. “No one had ever given me a choice. Not once in my life. Daegan did that, then he made me his right hand man. I ... ”

  Evalle smiled at him. “That kind of faith is humbling.”

  “I guess so.”

  “I hear you, Tristan, and I get where you’re at, but now I’m even more concerned with why you aren’t bringing Daegan in on this. He sees you as his general and would expect you to confer with him.”

  Turning to lean his shoulder against the tree, he said, “Here’s the deal. I can’t betray his trust so I’m not going to tell you what he told me, but you’ll have to trust me when I say that our first duty is to protect the Treoirs. That being the case, we’d be putting Daegan in a seriously bad situation if we call him here to help.”

  Whoa. That was not what she expected.

  Tristan quieted, clearly waiting to see if she’d give him that blanket trust.

  Hadn’t she asked him for similar trust at one time when she’d been trying to do right by the Alterants? After he’d escaped the jungle, she’d once asked Tristan to walk into a meeting with Macha, the same person responsible for locking him away for four long years.

  Now was the time for her to show she could give what Tristan needed from her if she had any hope for this new look being a permanent change for Tristan.

  But she had to stick to her agreement with Storm, too. “Here’s my deal, Tristan, and I’m in no mood for wisecracks. If you can’t work with me, then I’m calling in everyone, which means Daegan will end up here.”

  Tristan stood away from the tree. “I’m listening.”

  “Storm and I have a relationship built on respect. He isn’t comfortable with the work I do, but he knows it’s part of me and I need freedom to make my own decisions. That being said, we both agreed not to race into danger. I want to get Kit and the boys out of there. Give me a workable plan. If I agree, we’ll do it.”

  “We have to get to a better position to execute it, but my plan is so simple and foolproof you’re going to be disappointed you didn’t come up with it yourself.”

  Famous last words.

  Chapter 25

  Witchlock energy churned happily in Adrianna’s hand, which she kept hidden inside the deep sleeve of her black rain poncho. She’d almost grabbed a leather jacket instead, but something told her not to trust the weather even though the night had been clear and was getting cooler when she left home.

  Good thing she’d worn the poncho, since rain was falling again up here south of Blairsville. Her sixth sense now warned her that the thunderstorm meant they were getting closer to the enemy.

  Gently calling up her Witchlock power allowed her to see at night without special gear.

  That was a new trick she’d figured out just a week ago.

  She’d taken possession of the ancient energy a while back, but she couldn’t say it was entirely under her control, which was why she had serious concerns about wielding much of it for anything less than a critical situation.

  But if the lummox leading her through the woods pissed her off one more time, she might just find out how far she could send him into another realm.

  Covered in enough muscle to carry a car on his back, Isak still managed to move through the dark woods as silently as a predator natural to this terrain. She did her best, but every so often she’d step on a twig and Isak would freeze. He was a bundle of raw anger, and looking for a place to unleash it.

  In fact, if he didn’t need her, she wouldn’t be on this field trip.

  He stopped so quickly she had to slap her hands on his back to keep from ramming into him.

  She mumbled, “Sorry.”

  Backing up a step was out of the question, because she’d repeat whatever noise she’d just made that only he could hear. Doing it twice would be illogical.

  They’d hiked in from where he’d left his Hummer near a lake, then walked north toward a mi
ning ravine geographically between them and the city of Blairsville. Hiking she could take, but this climbed down a muddy, waterlogged descent had strained her team spirit. She’d suggested they take the nice wide paths left from some machine that had cleared away trees.

  He’d dismissed that suggestion without a second thought and told her to stick to the wooded areas. So much for team spirit on his part.

  Isak took a step forward and turned, smooth as butter, blast his sexy hide.

  She looked up at him through the water drizzling off the brim of her floppy rain cap. Also all in black, he looked like Rambo on steroids. He flipped up the monocular that gave him a cyborg appearance.

  When he spoke, he kept his voice low, but the anger from an hour ago was still there. “If they hear us first, we’re dead. That’s how it works in my world.”

  And there it was again.

  He just had to poke at her for not being human. She’d avoided using any overt majik around him to avoid setting him off, but she was tired of tiptoeing around the giant issue that sat between them. The one she’d warned him about and he’d declared they could get past.

  Her heart had pulled in on itself, trying to heal the wound he’d caused the minute he discovered what had happened to his mother. He’d started shouting obscenities about nonhumans and how he’d kill them all if anything happened to Kit.

  Traveling after that had been awkward. Adrianna had attempted to calm him and he’d ducked away from her hands. Cold had settled in her chest.

  She reminded him, “I said I could cloak us.”

  “Don’t use that shit on me.”

  She didn’t flinch, but that stung. “Fine. I’ll use it on me. Will that make you happy?”

  “Getting my mother safely out of this crapfest is the only thing that’s going to make me anywhere close to happy.”

  She would not allow him to see how much his attitude cut her to the bone. She hadn’t been behind the kidnapping, but that didn’t matter in Isak’s mind.

  He saw anyone who had any nonhuman ability as the other team. Not his team.

  Why had she let him convince her they could be together?