"Not so fast," Tristan told her. "We had an agreement that did not include him."
She swung back around. "What do you mean?"
Tristan raised his hands, palm out. "If that tomcat found his way here, then he can find his way to the next town. Storm goes or I go."
Storm said nothing, which worried her a lot more than his anger. What did he think? That she'd been allowing Tristan to touch her body . . . that way?
As if.
Evalle couldn't afford to lose Tristan, but neither would she abandon Storm after he'd come all the way down here to find her. She told Tristan, "You're not going anywhere without me if you expect me to speak to the Tribunal for you."
Tristan's eyes moved from Storm to Evalle, making a decision. "Remember when I told you gods and goddesses could be tricky? You said Loki's exact words were 'Let the one who returns the three escaped Alterants to VIPER be cleared of prior transgressions.' I don't need you to talk to the Tribunal. All I have to do is show up with those three to negotiate for my freedom. And finding them shouldn't be a problem, since I'm the one who told those three where to hide in Atlanta."
Tristan was going to snake her deal with the Tribunal. "You son of a--"
He shook his finger back and forth. "Uh-uh. Brina doesn't like her minions to curse. Make up your mind if it's me or him if you want to continue our partnership."
"It's not technically a partnership," she said for Storm's benefit. "Just an agreement."
Tristan wouldn't relent. "You with me or him?"
"You know I need your help." The disgusted sound that erupted behind Evalle lowered her expectations of smoothing this over soon with Storm. Surely he realized she would not leave him here. Nobody was going anywhere until she got things straight with Storm first.
Not that she should care what he thought with so much at stake, but she did. His disappointment ate at the happiness that had bloomed over seeing him here.
She said in a firm voice, "I'm not leaving anyone here."
"Can either of you teleport?" Tristan asked.
"No," Evalle snapped, losing patience. "What's your point?"
"I can." Tristan vanished.
"Blast it!" She turned to Storm, saying, "I can't believe he can still tele--"
Storm was gone, too.
FOURTEEN
Evalle shut her eyes, then opened them again, willing Storm to still be standing there.
Nope. No Storm. No Tristan.
Nothing but vine-strangled jungle surrounded the small clearing near the lake where she stood.
Where had Storm gone? Had Tristan taken him . . . or harmed him?
Nobody could have luck this crappy but her.
She raised her fist to the heavens. "I have had it! Just kill me now and spare me all this crap!"
"What's your problem?"
She jumped and lowered her arms to find Storm standing right in front of her. Pain, aggravation and frustration balled in her chest. He'd just made her crazy by disappearing. "Where in the blazes did you go?"
"To put on real clothes. I had a canvas bag I can hook my neck through to carry clothes with me for shifting back into human form." He wore a pair of faded jeans and a dark brown T-shirt.
Her heart did that weird dance it had been perfecting every time this Skinwalker was around.
Which she was not letting him know after he'd glared at her and acted as if she'd allowed Tristan to grope her. What had all that posturing between him and Tristan been about?
He was still glaring at her. "Back to why you were asking to be struck down where you stand? What's your problem?"
"I'll tell you what my problem is, Storm. First you change my aura to gold, then you act like I was committing a crime with Tristan."
"Letting him out of his cage and allowing him to touch you are crimes." The fierce edge in his voice had a ring of possessiveness.
The steamy air between them shuddered with awareness.
She'd consider how she felt about that later when she didn't have to find a way back to another continent. "I didn't let him out, not intentionally." She was not going into detail about how Tristan had grabbed her and lunged through the invisible barrier. "Tristan had agreed to help me."
Storm made a sound that couldn't have been construed as flattering. "Help you do what? Practice for a wet T-shirt contest?"
Out of a knee-jerk reaction, she looked down to see her soaked shirt clinging to her breasts. Her nipples puckered. She crossed her arms over the damning mammaries and glared at him.
She refused to feel guilty about any of this. "Demons attacked us. One of them ripped up his arm." That didn't faze Storm, whose eyes still narrowed with dark thoughts. She added, "And they crushed my knee. Tristan carried me here with his only good arm so we could wash the demons' saliva out of our wounds."
The swift change in Storm's face from anger to concern trimmed the edge off her irritation, but his face closed down again just as fast. He eyed her leg suspiciously. "Doesn't look crushed."
"That's what I've been trying to tell you. When you walked up, he was showing me how to heal myself."
"What exactly did Dr. Tristan show you?"
Sarcasm did nothing to improve her mood. She should be getting frostbite from his cool reserve, but Storm didn't seem as angry as before.
She huffed out a long breath and tried once more to clear up Storm's misconception. "Tristan has more experience than me at being an Alterant and knows how to control the change to his beast. He taught me how to tap levels of power before shifting so I could heal safely."
Feet apart and arms crossed, Storm might as well have had a Not Sold sign hanging from his neck. "So you shifted."
"No, of course not. That's the great part. I only drew on my Alterant powers." She couldn't get past his stony exterior. Or that suspicious glint in his eyes. "What's with you? Ten minutes ago I faced losing my leg . . . and probably my life. Never mind."
She took an angry sidestep and grimaced at the pain still streaking up her leg.
Concern broke through his hard gaze. "Your leg was really crushed?"
"Yes."
Storm squatted down, studying her exposed knee and bloody jeans where claws had clearly ripped open the material. He lifted shredded flaps of material aside and touched the swollen skin gently until she hissed. "How bad is it?"
"Tolerable, but it's healing by the minute." She avoided putting more weight on her leg, and shrugged. "It's sore, but I can walk through the pain."
His shoulders relaxed when he stood. He lifted his fingers to her face. "I don't like seeing you hurt."
Her heart squirmed under the look he gave her, as if he wanted to maim anyone who harmed her. "I need to get moving to figure out where Tristan went. How'd you find me?"
He scanned around them while he answered. "I had some help. I gave it an hour once I left you around midnight, then I contacted Nicole and asked her to locate the amulet."
Evalle hadn't wanted to involve Nicole, especially since Nicole's life partner, Red, didn't like Evalle and hadn't been happy about Evalle bringing Storm in jaguar form around Nicole two nights ago. "You woke up Red? She'll give Nicole grief over this."
Storm's gaze stopped wandering around and met Evalle's. "I'd have dragged Sen out of bed to find you if I'd thought I could make him tell me anything."
How was she supposed to hold onto any anger when he said things like that? "But Nicole only put a temporary invisibility spell on this amulet when we borrowed it. I don't understand."
"I put a protection spell on the amulet the last time I saw you."
That's why the thing had been warming and glowing right before something had attacked her. Storm had been trying to protect her from a distance. "But how did Nicole determine where I was this quickly?"
"She used a scrying bowl to narrow the location of the amulet to this region, and I had access to a private jet."
Who did he know with a private jet? But she didn't want to waste time by interrupting.
Storm shrugged, saying, "I grew up in Chile and roamed all over this country. Once I got here it was just a matter of tracking you by the majik I used on . . ."
When his voice drifted off, his lips tightened into a frown of remorse.
But she'd caught his slip, which reminded her that she had a serious beef with him. "Speaking of the majik that changed my aura--what'd you do? It's gold!"
He heaved a sigh. "I don't know."
"Wrong answer. Fix it."
"Not sure I can, but you don't have time for that right now anyhow if you intend to find Tristan. I'm assuming you had some plan in mind while traipsing around with him."
That blasted Tristan.
Sure, he'd patched up her leg, but he could have teleported the whole time they'd been together. If he'd spirited them away from the demons, she wouldn't have suffered a crushed knee.
And he hadn't shifted. Had he been saving energy to teleport?
She let that go in favor of getting on the move. "Tristan knows where the other Alterants are in Atlanta and agreed to help me locate them."
"He was lying to you."
"Maybe about helping me, but I believe he was telling the truth about the Alterants being in Atlanta." Even though Tristan had lied by omission he hadn't taken her dagger again or left her stranded, when he could have. She hadn't figured that one out. Why had Tristan stayed with her? No time to waste on that right now. She glanced around, defeat closing in on her with too far to travel in little time. "Any chance you've figured out how to track teleporting?"
"No. If he was headed back to Atlanta, call Tzader or Quinn so they can start looking for him while we head back."
"I can't ask anyone for help, especially them. The Tribunal forbade it." Then a thought struck her.
She hadn't tried any of the gifts because she could only use them for the explicit reason of finding the escaped Alterants and bringing them in.
"What, Evalle?"
"The Tribunal gave me three gifts." She got excited. "I think I know how to track Tristan." In her mind, she had to find Tristan to locate the missing Alterants, therefore she could call upon a gift.
But if her reasoning was wrong, she had no idea what the fallout would be.
"Then do it," Storm encouraged.
Using one gift now left just two for capturing three Alterants and dealing with Tristan at large.
She had no choice, but that didn't make her happy about what she had to do. "I can't believe I'm going to burn a gift on this," she muttered.
"On what?" Storm stepped close to her.
"Teleporting. And I don't know how to do it, so I'll probably throw up the entire way and . . ." She lifted her gaze to him. "I can't leave you, but I might do something wrong and hurt you if I don't do this right."
Storm pulled her into his arms.
She sank against him, enjoying the feel of his body next to hers.
He lowered his head and told her, "I'll keep you from getting sick. Call on the gift."
She opened her mouth to speak, but his lips covered hers.
Since meeting Storm she'd come to realize that kissing cured a lot of ailments.
His mouth managed to suck all the fight out of her. His hands tucked her closer, but carefully. As if he knew just how far to test her ability to be touched. She'd never let anyone kiss her or get close enough to touch her since escaping that basement.
Not until meeting Storm just a few days ago.
He paused and lifted his head. "Teleport us now or we won't be leaving here for hours."
It wasn't what he said so much as the serious intent in his voice and stark hunger turning his eyes black that got her moving.
She didn't hesitate. "By the Tribunal power gifted me, I command that Storm and I be teleported along the same path as Tristan."
The world started spinning as a thought hit her.
What if Tristan teleported somewhere dangerous that he was prepared for, but she and Storm would not be? What if . . .
Storm folded her close to him and kissed her again, pushing thoughts of anything but him from her mind.
An unfamiliar need coiled hot and urgent inside her. His lips caressed hers, his tongue playful. Fingers slid down to her hips, gently moving her snug against him.
Heat rippled through her abdomen.
He whispered calm words between kisses pressed along her neck. She shivered, longed for what his kiss promised. Her body urged her into his touch.
This was the only way to teleport.
He kissed her cheek once, twice.
She leaned back against his arm and turned her head, sucking in a breath when his lips caressed her throat.
All at once the swirling colors melded into distinct lines.
The ride was almost over. Too soon.
She smiled when Storm paused then kissed her again.
Did he do everything with this intense focus? As her feet touched solid ground again, Storm's chest expanded with a deep breath. He released a groan as if he was just as disappointed as she was to realize their trip would end soon.
He cupped her face and whispered, "Welcome to Air Evalle. Coffee, tea . . . or this." He kissed her again, murmuring, "Keep your eyes closed."
She smiled around his lips and followed his advice.
One day when this was over, maybe she would . . .
Day.
A new worry hit her with brutal swiftness. If Tristan had teleported to Atlanta, that's where she and Storm were landing.
It would be . . . afternoon. Right now.
What if the sun blazed overhead?
Still clinging to Storm, Evalle opened her eyes to a glint of brilliant light.
FIFTEEN
Tzader paced the boardroom on the eighteenth floor of Quinn's building, one of several he owned in downtown Atlanta.
His gut said not to do this, especially to Vladimir Quinn.
Not that Tzader wanted to risk destroying any person's mind, but Quinn and Evalle were his closest friends.
Next to Brina.
He stopped pacing. How could Brina think he didn't put her safety first? What was going on with her?
She was his world.
Her idea of searching Conlan O'Meary's mind had some validity. A slim possibility of gaining information, but enough that Tzader couldn't refuse in good conscience.
And Quinn was the best they had at navigating a mind.
Quinn's dry Oxford tone broke into Tzader's thoughts. I'll be up in a moment. I took care of Evalle's job at the morgue on my way here.
Where do they think she is?
On personal leave. She may not like my interfering, but she's getting my help this time whether she wants it or not.
Leave it to Quinn to pull strings to ensure that Evalle still had her grunt job once she appeased the Tribunal. She put a higher value on independence than an asthmatic put on oxygen.
She'll appreciate that, Tzader said.
Perhaps. Then Quinn was gone.
The antique clock on the side table dinged softly five times. This late on a Friday afternoon, rush hour traffic heated tempers in any city, but if that sulfur fog descended on the streets of Atlanta this evening the highways would turn into bloody battle zones.
Quinn entered the conference room on a calm stride, but tension lined his forehead. He punched buttons on his smart phone. His cinderblock gray European suit fit his athletic build with a precision only the best tailors could offer. Women seemed to like all that fancy trimming and upper-crust British accent, one of his finer qualities acquired after early years spent in Russian ghettos.
Tzader stopped pacing and glanced at the door. "Where's Conlan?"
"Our young O'Meary is on his way here. Then he'll have to be cleared through building security."
When Tzader quirked an eyebrow in amusement, Quinn chuckled and shrugged. "I must keep up appearances at all my corporate properties."
Metal detectors couldn't detect a weapon warded against view, like the two sentient blades hanging from Tzader's
belt. The blades had snarled at the security personnel when Tzader had passed through the scanner, but they were invisible to human eyes and machines when he needed them to be.
Quinn stopped fiddling with his phone and slipped it into a pocket inside his jacket. "I heard about beast attacks on my flight back from D.C. I assume these are Alterants, based upon the lurid descriptions. What's going on?"
"I just left a meeting at VIPER. There's a mysterious fog that hovers close to the ground around all these attacks. Has a sulfuric odor and causes everyone it touches to turn aggressive and mean, instant road rage mentality. Bad as that is, this fog appears to be a catalyst for forcing Alterants to shift. We're up to a hundred and thirty-four that we know about that have shifted in different parts of the country."
"I saw a low-hanging haze that covered a massive section of Virginia we flew over. A dull yellow color."
"That's it."
"What--or who--is causing the fog?"
Tzader rubbed his chin and let out a weary breath. "I'd say we don't know, but some people are jumping to conclusions about Alterants in general."
Quinn made the mental leap Tzader expected. "Any word on Evalle?"
"Yes, but what Sen told me after the briefing isn't good."
"Let me guess. Mr. Charm wanted to gloat over Evalle being outside our reach right now?"
"I wish that was all. He said Tristan has escaped again." Tzader had barely restrained himself from wiping the smile from Sen's face.
"The Alterant we just put away yesterday? Whose bloody fault was that?"
"According to the Tribunal, Evalle is behind the escape."
Something vile and Russian hissed from between Quinn's lips, sounding as deadly as Tzader's thoughts. Quinn crossed the room and stopped next to Tzader where he stared out the window.
No yellow haze had formed in Atlanta. Yet.
Tzader told him the rest. "The Tribunal believes Evalle and Tristan could be connected to the fog, that they're trying to build an army from the shifting Alterants."
"That's absurd."
"It's absurd that Evalle would do this, but Tristan's a wild card," Tzader said. "However, none of the Alterants currently shifting have green eyes that we know of."
"Then how can they tie this to Tristan and Evalle? Maybe these things aren't Alterants. That's like saying anything with a mane, four legs and a tail is a horse, but not distinguish that a zebra or giraffe might be different."
"I agree, but the Tribunal isn't making that distinction," Tzader explained. "Sen indicated the Tribunal sent Evalle on a task with a time limit. Once Tristan escaped, the Tribunal issued a decree to kill all Alterants on sight, regardless of the color of their eyes." Just saying those words out loud froze the blood in Tzader's veins.