"That's what I expect." Kit turned toward her desk.
Rather than dwell on that any longer, Evalle moved the conversation to another concern. "What about the Rias in your holding cell? What are you going to do with him?"
Pausing next to her chair, Kit asked, "Why?"
"Please don't kill him. Once he understands how to control the shifting, he won't be a threat. He is trainable."
"Really? Who would do this training?"
Tristan could do it if Evalle knew where he was or if--when--she found him again. Another problem she had to figure out sooner than soon, plus things were going to deteriorate between her and Macha real quick if Tristan didn't show. "I know someone who can do it, but he's not available at the moment."
"When will he be available?"
Do I look like a crystal ball? "I don't know yet, but if--"
"Let's make this simple, Evalle. I'll give you a week to bring this trainer to me. After that, I'll hand the forklift driver over to Isak. I can't run a halfway house for nonhumans and be fair to my son."
"You would just kill that man even though he hasn't hurt anyone?"
"Yet. He hasn't harmed anyone yet. Based on the reports we got from across the country a few weeks ago, others like him have murdered families. If you want to help this one, bring in the trainer," Kit said, nicely sidestepping a direct answer about the man's fate. "Or if you can't find the trainer in time, you can discuss the forklift driver's fate with Isak."
Oh, yeah. That'd be as productive as building a snowball factory in hell. Evalle couldn't do anything about the poor man right now, but Kit didn't strike her as the kind of person who would starve or torment a defenseless being. With her list of priorities growing by the minute, Evalle focused on getting the weapon and making it back to Atlanta. Alive.
Would one of Kit's men be willing to drive an Alterant back to the city? "Since I can't tell anyone how to find me--"
Holding up a hand to stall Evalle, Kit lifted a two-way radio from where it had been in a charging cradle on the bookcase behind her and spoke into the receiver. "Lambert, pull out a BXZ-12 for Isak and tell him to meet Evalle at the Hummer. Thanks."
She wants Isak to drive me home?
When Kit looked up again, she said, "That should give you two ample opportunity to discuss the forklift driver. And, just so we're clear, I expect Isak to come back without a scratch on him. Take care of my weapon."
Right. Mustn't harm Isak, the Alterant-hating human who would have the troll-killing weapon in his possession and Evalle at his mercy in the Hummer.
TWENTY-ONE
Twenty minutes into the ride back to Atlanta, Evalle tired of Isak's stony silence ... and the stupid blindfold over her sunglasses. "Kit said I only had to wear this until we reached the interstate. I can tell we're not on secondary roads any longer."
The blindfold loosened and fell away from her face. Isak flipped the cloth over his shoulder onto the rear seat of the Hummer next to a fat viola case that shielded the weapon.
She cut her gaze at the silent hunk driving and tested the waters with a simple yes-or-no question.
"You ever going to talk to me again?"
The hardheaded man wove his way through the interchange onto the northbound interstate in downtown and stared ahead at the traffic, ignoring her just as he'd been doing since she'd climbed into the Hummer. At the warehouse, he'd stood by her door, making no move to help her to the passenger seat.
Or to show any concern about her being buckled up.
Not that she'd needed his help, which meant she had to have the most contrary emotions to feel hurt over the way he'd ignored her this time. She hadn't considered what Isak meant to her before today because of their bizarre friendship, but she already missed what they'd had.
Riding with someone who hated you sucked.
She'd had good reasons for not telling him the truth, but somewhere inside her cluttered heart she admitted that he deserved an apology. "I'm sorry, Isak."
Still no reply.
"What's it gonna take to fix this?"
Not a word from the driver's seat.
She could appreciate his reason for being angry. Still, he of all people should understand why someone like her had to protect her identity. Especially to shield it from one of the few humans capable of killing her in a one-on-one battle.
She tried a different tack. "I like Kit."
"Stay away from her."
Four whole words spoken in a command, but she'd take that over brooding silence. Keeping her voice light, she pointed out, "Did you miss that Kit ordered me to see her again? You may be able to ignore her, but she scares the stuffing out of me."
Had his lips twitched?
Maybe she'd hit on the right topic. She kept going. "I saw the way those men jumped to attention. And who wouldn't when a human woman is fearless in front of nonhumans? Easy to see why your men all respect her."
She could swear Isak's jaw softened.
What else could she say to keep the stubborn man talking? She'd been making progress with the truth, but he'd been right about one thing. She had no parental experience to draw upon. "I can't imagine growing up with a mother, especially one like Kit. You're lucky to have her."
She hadn't intended to be quite so honest, but the longing in her voice had been as real and true as her words.
It still took Isak a moment to respond. His words came slowly when he did speak, as if he didn't want to allow this conversation to keep rolling and pick up speed toward actually communicating again. "I know."
Two words, both filled with admiration and love.
She'd never envied a human anything other than the ability to walk in the sun, but she coveted what Isak had--a parent who cared deeply for him. Someone he'd known since birth.
She let him drive silently while she considered how else she could widen the tiny opening he'd allowed. Killing demons was a whole lot easier than dealing with cranky men. She could ask him about the weapon Kit had loaned her, but Isak's man Lambert had gone through the operation of the weapon with her--because Isak wouldn't. To be honest, a monkey could hit a moving target with that custom superblaster.
The Nyght family built impressive kill toys.
"She likes you."
Evalle jerked around at the unexpected words from Isak. "Really?"
"She likes the forklift driver, too."
In other words, don't go taking what he'd said about Kit's liking her to heart. "I see."
"No, you don't. Kit's hard as nails on the outside with a gooey center. Worst person I ever saw for taking on the broken refuse. Thinks she can save everyone."
Now Evalle understood why he'd decided to speak to her. He wanted to make it clear how low she ranked on the scale of life in his world. Not worth saving.
All her good intentions toward Isak dissolved with that ice pick to the heart. The muscles in her neck clenched at the need to yell at him that she was not some homeless animal. She hated being treated like a dangerous creature who had no control over killing others, but more than that?
She hated being pitied.
She was not a loser and did not need him, Kit or anyone else saving her.
Isak scratched his head, then grumbled something under his breath and elbowed the door panel hard enough to crack it. That wasn't going to improve his mood.
Evalle's resolve not to snap at Isak crumbled under his whip of anger. The man couldn't ride for a few more minutes in peace? Was sitting inside a vehicle with her so abhorrent?
He clearly had something he wanted to say and might as well say it now.
"What, Isak? Think of some new insult? By all means, don't waste your chance to get back at me for being born. Go ahead and tell me whatever you're grumbling about, because you won't get another opportunity." Not if she had anything to say about it. What did she need with him as a friend?
A friend who insulted her.
"Yeah, I've got something else to say," he admitted glumly. "Kit would be pissed with me if
she heard what I just said. That forklift driver's a good guy and a brilliant combat engineer life kicked in the nuts. She wouldn't consider you or him as broken or refuse ... and neither do I."
Evalle's thoughts stumbled all over themselves at the unexpected admission. Why would Isak tell her the truth when he had plenty of reasons for being ticked off at her?
Anyone else would use that opening to vent.
She knew why Isak hadn't. He had a personal code of honor. The same one that had stilled his trigger finger when he'd discovered her identity as an Alterant and his heart had screamed at him to shoot, that she deserved to die.
That all Alterants had to pay for the death of his friend.
She'd feel the same in his shoes if someone had killed Tzader or Quinn. But just like her two best friends, Isak was a man of honor.
This friend business could be so messy and complicated some days. Just like the situation with Quinn and that he'd lied to her about what he'd told Kizira. What was she going to do about Quinn? Should she give him another chance to explain? Storm had confirmed at least a part of what Sam Thomas had tried to tell Evalle. Her chest ached from feeling betrayed by someone she'd lay her life down for, and the pain would not subside until she found out if he was truly guilty or not.
But Kit had given Evalle the benefit of the doubt--a second chance. Could she do any less for Quinn? And what about Isak? He could have killed Evalle and Kit wouldn't have said a word, but he hadn't.
So she shouldn't give up on trying to keep Isak as a friend.
Once Isak pulled inside the parking garage and parked next to her motorcycle, Evalle took her time unbuckling her seat belt to give him long enough to come around to her side.
She wanted to grin, but didn't. The gentleman in him had to open her door.
Taking in a deep breath, she schooled her face to be calm and prepared to take one more shot at parting under better terms. She had an idea--one that might backfire on her, but she'd gambled her safety on worse odds.
When he opened her door, he moved back, stopping between her and her bike.
She climbed out and took a slow step toward him, watching to see if he'd flinch or back away.
Like a wall of determination, he didn't budge.
She closed the space between them to inches, then lifted her hands slowly and gripped the lapels of his shirt. When he didn't shove her away, she pulled herself up on her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips.
He didn't lower his head or kiss her back, but he wasn't entirely indifferent either. She'd opened her empathic senses and picked up a flush of heat coming off him. The kind of heat she'd recently figured out meant interest from a man.
Easing back down, she released his shirt and said, "I am your friend."
He didn't respond. Just stood there like an Isak statue.
Turning around to the Hummer, she retrieved the modified viola case that held the compact weapon and slung the strap over her shoulder. She'd settled the case across her back when energy stirred through the air.
Something strong and tense.
Spinning around slowly, she searched the dark parking deck for a hint of what that could have been, listening for a sound. Human ... or other?
"Evalle?" Isak said in an even tone.
That drew her full attention. "Yes?"
"Don't ever do that again."
Well, crud. She'd never figure out men. This one just used up all his good deals and the last dregs of her patience. "You can bank on me not ever kissing you again."
He stepped up to her, crowding her comfort zone. Did he think she'd back away? Not a chance.
His big hand came up slowly to her cheek. "That's not what I meant."
There weren't enough hours in a day to figure out how a man's brain worked. "What did you mean?"
"Don't ever just ..." He leaned closer, whispering, "Peck me and call it a kiss." His lips touched hers, warm and simmering with heat.
She barely had a chance to catch her breath before he took it away with his kiss. Nothing like the last time he'd kissed her, which had been gentle and sweet. This was a bold kiss, one she wouldn't soon forget. He slipped his hands around her neck and back, drawing her in closer with each pass of his lips over hers.
Her skin tingled with excitement, a warm feeling that reached her toes and started back up her body. She'd just gotten her bearings when the kiss ended as abruptly as it had started.
She licked her lips, trying to figure out how she felt about that kiss. That very sensual kiss, which had started out as only a let's-stay-friends kiss. At least on her part.
When he pulled back, dark satisfaction ringed his harsh eyes. He touched her chin with one finger and said, "Just a warning for the next time I see you."
What exactly was he warning her about? "Does this mean we have a truce?"
"Truce." With that, he dropped his hand and walked around, climbing into the Hummer.
Another wave of energy swept past her, much fiercer this time.
She opened her empathic senses all the way, searching quickly to figure out what was hovering nearby.
The energy retreated, but she picked up a cold rage so chilling her skin pebbled in reaction.
Isak cranked his engine and looked her way, waiting until she waved him off before he backed up and left.
The minute the Hummer disappeared, Evalle lingered to see if the energy continued to pulse, but nothing followed that last quick rush. Who, or what, had been watching her and Isak?
Another Rias?
She lifted the strap off her shoulder, bringing the viola case around to sit on her bike seat where she could access the weapon inside.
A deep male voice that belonged to her favorite Nightstalker rumbled with Southern undertones. "Don't tell me you done gone and started violin lessons. I ain't listenin' to no screechin', so don't come 'round here to practice."
Evalle looked over her shoulder to find the translucent image of Grady in his usual red-and-black-plaid, short-sleeved shirt and wrinkled trousers a size too big for his tall, bony frame. He hadn't aged beyond sixty-eight, the age he'd been when he'd died well over a decade ago. "I didn't ask you to listen to me play, old man, and this case is for a viola, not for a violin."
"Why don't you git a gee-tar?"
She heaved a sigh and stood the case against the back wheel of her bike. "What're you doing here?"
"Watchin' your pitiful excuse for a love life."
That meant Grady had been here long enough to witness her kissing Isak. "Can we move this along? Why are you here and not over by the hospital?"
When he'd failed to give her a name the first time she'd met him, Evalle had started calling him Grady due to finding him always around Grady Hospital.
He got that ornery-old-cuss look. "Gotta shake if you wanna know what I know."
She hadn't shaken hands with him since she'd made the mistake of doing it too long one night out of sympathy when she should only have been shaking for intel. The result had allowed Grady to take human form with no help at times and hold that form longer than he should.
"What happened to taking human form any time you want, Grady?"
"I never said any time." He bunched his lips and squinted one eye in a stare meant to let her know she'd aggravated him.
She grinned, refusing to make this easy. The wily old dog could outmaneuver the best of VIPER agents. Shaking too quickly would cost her more next time.
Grady gave up on his mean look and turned pouty. "I can still do it some on my own, but I had to use up my solid form to come here."
"Why? What was going on here?"
"Nuh-uh. You know the rules."
Now she shoved an ornery look at him. "All right, but this needs to be quick."
"Like Ironman said, 'Waitin' on you now.'"
She'd ask him where he'd seen that movie, but she didn't have the time to waste on chitchat.
When his filmy hand connected with Evalle's, heat flushed through her hand and arm with the power she gen
erated.
Grady's form turned opaque, as if someone had poured cocoa-brown pigment into his body. Even the faded colors on his shirt sharpened. His face muscles relaxed into an unguarded smile that always gave her a warm feeling in her chest.
"Start talking, old man. What were you doing here?"
Grady stretched his arms as if just waking up, then wiped his wrinkled mouth in a patent sign that he wanted a drink, but she had nothing to offer him this time and he knew it. He said, "You don't want to know about the Svart trolls first?"
"What have you got on them?" He'd more than earn this handshake if he had information on Svarts.
"They're stirrin' up all this gang mess."
"We know that."
"Bet you don't know how many are here."
She'd heard Horace tell everyone last night that the Svarts often worked in teams of two or four, so she expected more than one. "How many?"
"Eight came into the city and--"
"Eight? Crap!"
"Save all that exasperation for the bad news." Grady licked his lips and scratched his grizzly beard. "There's more comin'."
"Why? What do they want?" Evalle had the best snoop in the underworld of Atlanta standing in front of her. Grady always had more pertinent information than any other Nightstalker she could name.
"Don't know. But those Svarts are plannin' for more trolls like the local ones to arrive as soon as the Svarts finish somethin'. Sounds sort of like a troll convention in the makin' with Svarts runnin' the show."
She chewed on that mentally. "What could be worth their facing off with VIPER, especially this division?"
"Somethin' they been promised once they finish their job would be my bet."
"What do you mean?"
"Our world--the unnatural one--don't work like human-world logic. If the Svarts are here now, it's to do somethin' for a powerful group. And if they're plannin' on callin' in all kind of trolls soon, that makes me think whoever they got a deal with has the Svarts believin' VIPER ain't gonna be able to protect this country soon."
Unimaginable. But she'd seen enough in her five short years, since becoming a Belador warrior at eighteen, to know that anything in her world was possible. "Svarts are pretty powerful, but I don't see where eight are a force to match with VIPER. I'm not wishing more trolls of any kind to deal with, but if the Svarts intend to bring in more, why aren't all those extra trolls here now?"
"My guess would be that the Svarts are waitin' to call in the rest after someone else clears the way."
The Curse Page 19
