The Curse

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Evalle's cheeks were a rosy shade Quinn had never seen.

  She took one look at him and snapped, "Don't say a word," then strode off in the direction of the parking deck.

  Women. Quinn had tangled with more than his limit today. He rubbed his head and called telepathically to his Belador driver. While Quinn had rushed here on foot, he'd sent his driver to call up his Aston Martin Virage from where it sat parked in valet at the hotel. At Quinn's word, the car arrived outside Underground within minutes.

  When Tzader called Quinn telepathically to confirm that Storm had picked up a scent and they'd left Underground, Quinn peeled out and caught up to the pair on Piedmont Avenue.

  He pulled over long enough for Tzader to jump in and toss a handful of clothes onto the backseat just as the biggest jaguar Quinn had ever seen ran ahead, jumping over homeless people sleeping in doorways. In spite of his size, the sleek, black animal blended with the night like a racing shadow.

  Evalle streaked past Quinn on her wicked motorcycle and stayed ahead, keeping pace with the jaguar.

  Tzader said, "Trey's got choppers picking up some of the teams. The rest are spread out over a mile behind us, following directions I'm sending."

  Quinn's grip on the wheel tightened with every mile that Storm covered. He had to get Lanna back. The jaguar led them away from the corporate jungle of glass towers in the center of downtown to the fringe, where tattered buildings with bar-covered windows intermingled with pockets of redevelopment.

  Then Storm stopped. His sides heaved in and out with deep breaths, but Quinn doubted he'd paused due to lack of stamina.

  Quinn pulled the Aston Martin into the parking lot of a closed medical office and got out. "What's wrong, Evalle?"

  She'd parked and had her helmet off. "I don't know. Give him a minute."

  Striding over with Tzader beside him, Quinn stopped next to Evalle. She watched Storm move back and forth, then squatted down and asked the coal-black animal, "Does the scent end here?"

  Storm lifted his jaguar head and nodded.

  Tzader said, "I bet this is where they stopped to change the damn tire."

  Storm confirmed that with another nod.

  Quinn asked Evalle, "Is there any way you know to reach those two boys?"

  "No, but I know someone else who might help us."

  The jaguar roared at her.

  Sentient blades hanging at Tzader's hips came to life, snarling and snapping. "Evalle?"

  "Storm's not going to do anything." She stood up and walked up to the giant beast and leaned down, stroking his ebony fur. "You agreed as long as he behaved himself."

  Tzader warned, "Evalle, don't stand so close."

  "He won't hurt me," she said with conviction, and damn if that jaguar didn't reach up and lick her chin.

  Quinn sighed. "You scare the shit out of us sometimes."

  He swore the bloody jaguar smiled at him until Evalle said, "We need Isak Nyght's help."

  TWENTY-SIX

  Evalle held the throttle of her Gixxer steady and hoped she wouldn't be late. The truck with the teens had parked eight minutes ago, just after the stroke of midnight.

  One call to Isak and in less than fifteen minutes he'd performed the impossible, locating the truck. Storm had shifted back into his human body and put on his clothes by the time Isak had called Evalle two minutes ago with news that she was only three miles from where the truck was parked.

  Storm's arms banded her waist as he snugged up close to her on the back of the bike.

  She'd blame the cold air beating his exposed arms and face for the movement, but he never shivered. She had a strong sense that he wanted to remind her of their agreement that he would not touch Isak as long as Isak kept his hands off her.

  As if she'd risk more bloodshed tonight.

  She'd never been in this situation--between two men. She had no skills for handling either one of them, but they'd both be sorely disappointed if they didn't work together to help save nonhumans from Svarts using them as food.

  Except Isak didn't save nonhumans. He hunted them.

  Tzader came into her mind. Just heard from a Belador named Vince who's with the captives inside the old Sears Building on North Avenue, so Isak was right about the truck being there.

  Can he get out?

  Said it's too dangerous. Four prisoners teamed up against one Svart and tried to make a break for it. The Svart overpowered them and decapitated one. I told Vince to sit tight and feed us information on how to get to them.

  Why didn't he contact you sooner? Not that she wanted to give the guy a hard time, but what took him so long?

  Said he was unconscious until now. Lanna had his phone. Said the Svart took it away from her. Vince is one of the six nonhumans a troll named Jurba is using to negotiate with the Svarts to trade for his girlfriend. Two of the six are the twin male witches and one is Lanna.

  How many more captives?

  Vince counted eighteen so far, including Jurba's six.

  Stinking trolls. Evalle turned onto North Avenue, a block away. Are the Svarts feeding yet?

  Not yet. Vince said there are five Svarts guarding them, but he believes more are out in the city, and he heard one of them say they were waiting on the lieutenant. I told Vince we're close and to call out to me if any of the Svarts act like they're going to feed before we reach him.

  Lanna and the twins were still safe--for the moment.

  Leaning her bike low around the last corner, Evalle straightened and slowed when the backside of the gargantuan warehouse once known as the Sears Building came into view.

  She parked along the curb.

  Headlights off, Quinn pulled his Aston Martin up behind her as Storm climbed off her bike. Within seconds, VIPER agents appeared from where they'd parked within a quarter-mile stretch of the older, mixed-residential-and-business neighborhood.

  For the benefit of agents not telepathically capable like the Beladors, Tzader issued spoken orders. "Break up into teams of four with a Belador leader in every team so we can keep in contact telepathically. We have a Belador captive inside who will lead us to their location once we're in there."

  Evalle asked, "What floor did Vince say they're on?"

  "Basement, but like the other floors in that place it covers as much area as a football field. We have to be careful not to kill a human. With this building in the middle of a major rehabilitation right now, the Svarts have very likely glamoured themselves to look like security for the developers."

  Adrianna stepped up and Evalle tensed. She hadn't seen the witch until now. When Adrianna ignored her and moved closer to listen, Evalle glanced over at Storm for a moment, assessing him, then back at Tzader.

  Evalle suffered a wave of jealousy she had no doubt Storm would pick up on, so she pulled back from the circle of agents crowded around the sidewalk. She could hear just fine without having to stand so near the Sterling witch.

  Storm swung around to look at her, then his sharp gaze shot past her shoulder and turned murderous. In one step, he reached Evalle and yanked her around behind him.

  Was he crazy?

  She shoved his arm aside and glared her opinion of his ridiculous action, then forced her way around beside him, ready to face whatever threat he was trying to protect her from.

  Beladors picked up on intruders approaching first and dispersed, then all the VIPER agents followed suit, lining up in a show of force to each side of her and Storm.

  Across the street, deadly-looking men seeped out of the darkness as if their bodies formed from the obsidian shadows. Five, no, eight of them. Hard faces beneath black-smudged eyes and cheeks, but none more hardened than that of their leader, Isak Nyght. Every black-ops soldier aimed a demon blaster at the VIPER team.

  Evalle now understood Storm's action because she wanted to step in front of every agent here who had trusted her to contact Isak Nyght. So much for her and Isak's truce.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  What have you done, Roogre?" Kizira demanded o
f the eight-foot-tall Svart troll commander, as she entered her personal solar in TAmr Medb. Home of the Medb, for now.

  Roogre answered by eyeing her as he would a buzzing insect.

  She found that amusing since he had the greenish-brown skin of a bug and stood out as a dirty smudge amid silk cushions and sparkling glass art. Thick arms bulged with so much heavy muscle beneath the goatskin vest that she doubted the hideous troll could cross his arms. If he had a neck it wouldn't improve a face that could make a mother wish she'd sewn her womb shut. Purple-inked designs scrolled around eyes as black as his soul, covering his entire face and slick head.

  Kizira may have erred in dealing with a being demons would be wise to fear. "You said your trolls could go a week without feeding."

  "True." His tenor voice threw the image of that body off-kilter. Roogre sniffed, causing his bulbous nose to flare and the lips across his wide mouth to lift, revealing sharp teeth.

  "Why are your trolls gathering up nonhumans?"

  "I said they could go a week, not that they would."

  He'd intentionally misled her, and his murdering trolls might ruin everything.

  Kizira had spent long nights figuring a way to slide around Flaevynn's compulsion spell so Kizira could orchestrate her own plan. She'd gambled much with Roogre, and even more with the man she'd just left, but she'd truly doubted that Qu ... he could get past her mental shields. From the look on his face when he'd rushed out of the hotel room, he must have been successful.

  Perhaps too successful.

  She stalked across the room enclosed by peach, rose and yellow flowers blooming from vines that climbed a silver trellis. One day, she would grow real flowers in earth.

  That would not happen if this step of her plan failed.

  Or if Flaevynn found out why Kizira had convinced her to bring in Svart trolls.

  Kizira swung around, giving Roogre her sharp censure. "Your trolls have drawn the full attention of VIPER in Atlanta sooner than expected."

  "True."

  "You have broken your word."

  "Not true."

  "How do you see that?"

  "We agreed the mission would be completed by the end of the week. You chose no specific hour or day to draw VIPER out in the open. My trolls are on task."

  Technically correct, but still a lie by omission.

  She'd agreed to those terms, but the battle strategy he'd laid out to her afterward had projected a timeline that suited her needs for capturing Alterants. Not feeding his trolls.

  Humans wouldn't notice missing nonhumans, but VIPER would.

  What else had Roogre done that he'd failed to discuss with her first?

  She could either stand here and waste time arguing what would change nothing or accept that few plans ever went as intended. "The turmoil going on in Atlanta at this minute forces us to expedite the timeline."

  "So we execute the second phase, the one you and I discussed ... alone?"

  The quelling look she gave him only raised an evil smile to his lips. He said, "Don't glare at me, witch. You said tell no one and I've told no one."

  Miserable, untrustworthy trolls. She didn't want him to even whisper about their secret meeting while inside the walls of TAmr Medb. She'd reply in a way that would dilute what he said in case the walls had ears, but once this was done, and he had the section of earth he desired, she'd never deal with such filth again.

  "Everything I do is to benefit the queen. If you wish to be handed North America--by the queen--when this is done, do not say another word except to answer my questions. Understand?"

  "Understood." Roogre's amused demeanor hid the temperament of a hungry cobra. He fingered the sword honed of a blue metal that hung alongside stubby legs in brown leather pants. Razor claws at the end of his fingers, matching those on his three-toed feet, curled with a hint of threat.

  But inside TAmr Medb, only Cathbad and Flaevynn were more powerful than Kizira. This Svart might be a danger to her outside the tower, but not in her home, where her power increased. "It's time to send in both of your demonic trolls."

  "One is dead."

  "Not possible," she whispered, shocked. "Where? How?"

  "Killed in a skirmish with a Belador in Atlanta."

  "Why did you risk sending one out?"

  All amusement fled from Roogre's face. "To find those who killed two of my trolls. Before you speak too quickly, I told you I would exact payment immediately for any troll lost while under my command."

  "You also said your trolls were practically indestructible against Beladors since they would avoid linking around a Svart."

  "True."

  "Obviously not." Then it dawned on her. "What specific Belador killed your trolls?"

  "The Alterant Evalle Kincaid."

  Kizira kept her temper under control or the air would explode with lightning. "Your trolls were to capture Alterants, not fight them, and none were to touch Evalle yet."

  "My troll intervened to stop her from killing another Alterant and had no idea of her identity when he did."

  That didn't sound like Evalle. Sure that Roogre held back information he didn't want to share, Kizira asked, "Was she killing an Alterant or a Rias?"

  "My soldiers don't have time to qualify a beast while it's changing if you want these things captured instead of killed. We'll bring you all the Alterants and Rias we find, then you can give me any you don't keep and I'll dispose of them for you."

  She hid her disgust at his offhanded reference to eating the leftovers, so to speak. "How can you be so sure Evalle killed your troll if you don't communicate by telepathy?"

  Roogre held up a six-inch-wide gold medallion hanging from a chain around his neck. He'd told her once that the runic S cut out of the center was used as the template for marking his trolls. "My blood is mixed with the acid that burns this emblem into the forearms of those under my command. With the exception of my Lieutenant in the field who can speak to me through my mind, my trolls can't communicate telepathically, but I receive a visual message from them upon death. The last heartbeat of a Svart troll sends an image to me of the one who killed him."

  By the gods, she wanted to slash Roogre to pieces. "Then you sent one of the demonic trolls to kill Evalle and she won that battle, too?"

  "No. A four-legged, black demon cat beheaded my troll, and he will pay with his life."

  She didn't care how many demons Roogre destroyed, but Alterants were another issue. "You can't kill any Alterants."

  "Why? You're ready to implement the second phase immediately and said yourself that if it is successful, those five Alterants will no longer be necessary."

  How had she allowed him to speak so openly again? The queen believed the Svart commander's only goal was Flaevynn's order for his trolls to capture Alterants in Atlanta.

  Giving him death-threat glares did nothing. Again, she had to cover for the words he'd spoken out loud. "The second phase is only to support Queen Flaevynn's goal of seeing Treoir fall."

  Humor flitted across Roogre's gaze, letting her know he understood--as well as she did--the dangerous game she played. "Don't worry. The demonic troll I sent to Atlanta was the weaker of the two. The second one still hidden is far more invincible after having been dipped twice in Loch Ryve. I await only your word to take my strongest team to ... ?"

  As if she'd tell him one second too soon or speak the location out loud? She gave up trying to cover his constant slips, which were by no means accidental, but Flaevynn had not come bursting in yet, so all still appeared safe at this point. Kizira had one chance to get a step ahead of the queen.

  Time to take the plunge into dangerous waters.

  Kizira said, "I'll send you and your team now, but I want your word to wait twenty minutes once you arrive before doing anything. That will give you time to get your trolls in place."

  "I don't need twenty minutes."

  "I do because I want to be present, but I must speak to Queen Flaevynn first."

  "To assure her of impen
ding victory?"

  Why couldn't Flaevynn compel Kizira to turn miserable trolls into a pile of flaming cow dung? Kizira needed the extra time to direct Flaevynn's attention to her scrying wall to watch the Svart and VIPER battles in Atlanta. That should keep the queen busy while Kizira slipped away.

  No matter. Kizira had to be on-site for one reason--to protect Qu ... him from being ripped to pieces by Svart trolls.

  Touching Roogre would probably give her nightmares, but she was ready to teleport him and his men to their next destination. By the time Roogre knew where he was going, the only person he could share that with would be his Lieutenant, who would say nothing to endanger Roogre and his fellow trolls.

  But before she sent him on his way, she asked, "How many Svarts will remain in Atlanta?"

  "My Lieutenant and enough to handle fifty Beladors, but we face only a handful at a time, just as I told you would happen. Attacking in the cemeteries gave our opponent specific target areas, too many to defend. With no idea where we'll strike next, they've spread their resources thin across the city."

  "Hold out your forearm." When he turned the runic S scar up for her to see, she said, "Call up the list in your mind of who will go. When I touch you, they'll all teleport at once."

  "I'm ready."

  She placed her palm on the raised skin of his scar, which heated immediately. Kizira waved her free hand between them, but just before Roogre disappeared his eyes widened. She started to call him back to find out why, then realized it had to be due to his seeing where she'd sent him.

  She looked at her hand, trying to decide if peeling off a layer of skin would clean away the troll's contamination.

  "Looking for me, Kizira?"

  Kizira froze at the caustic edge in Flaevynn's voice, but that rarely changed. Kizira forced a smile on her face and dropped her hand as she turned to find the Medb queen at the arched entrance to her solar. "Yes, Your Highness. Things are moving along sooner than anticipated with the plan in Atlanta. Perhaps you'd like to view it on your--"

  "But Roogre is not following my directions, now is he?"

  Flaevynn must have heard them, but how much?

  Never show a weakness to a vicious queen. "I admonished Roogre about not executing as agreed upon."

  "Really? Perhaps not the plan I agreed upon, but another version. Yours maybe?"