Blood Trinity

  They would cage the beast if it ever made its presence known.

  These two Beladors in the cave with her had taken a vow to uphold the Belador Code of protecting humanity--which also meant reporting any Alterant who shifted.

  Evalle had almost changed into a beast once.

  Almost.

  Even now, she didn't know if she could do it and maintain control. Which meant she could shift and the Medb could still kill her.

  So her only real option for escape depended on trusting these two men enough to link so the three of them could use their cumulative natural abilities to defeat the Medb.

  If not ...

  Casket time.

  Her choices narrowed by the heartbeat, and Quinn had a valid point. She couldn't find the one who had betrayed her and make him pay if she died in this underground prison.

  "I'm Evalle. My reason for being in this area tonight is personal." She shot her attention to the one who would clearly lead a charge against the Medb. "Got a plan, Master T?"

  "Working on it. They must have used water from Loch Ryve to coat the walls and hold the spell. That's the only substance I've ever known of that can drain Belador powers. I don't know how long we've been down here, but it's probably been working on us for awhile--"

  "Not my powers," she corrected, enjoying a moment of satisfaction over another unexpected difference between her and the pure bloods. "I'm at full strength."

  Tzader paused for a moment, then nodded. "Good. That's one plus for us, but we're losing power, right, Quinn?"

  "Correct. I'm probably at half strength, which is why we must strike soon while we're still capable of battling."

  Evalle looked across at both men. "Either of you have an idea how many we have to fight to get out?"

  "Best I could tell, there were five Medb warlocks and the one traitorous Belador." Tzader's deep voice hardened on the last word. He was either just as pissed off as her or a very convincing liar. "Didn't get a good look at the fifth Medb, but he wasn't big and wore a priest's robe. This is a war party of hunters. If they were taking us to someone higher, we'd be gone. They plan to torture information out of us or maybe use us to bait another trap. I want blood from that traitor, too, but I won't let the Medb hurt another Belador regardless of what that bastard did."

  Tzader's immediate concern for his tribe struck a note of guilt in Evalle, making her realize she'd been more worried about getting out of here alive than protecting her tribe. She'd fought alongside Beladors until she was bloody and spent to defend the tribe ...

  And to prove she was worthy.

  Refusing to help another Belador now would destroy what trust she'd gained from some and give voice to the ones murmuring that she was little better than a trained animal.

  Quinn shifted. "I agree with Tzader."

  Before she had a chance to say yea or nay, Tzader started strategizing. "Let's do a quick check of resources. Since she's wary of us, I'll start. I've got kinetic, telepathic and energy force, plus two sentient blades they stripped from me with my body armor. If I can get out of here, I'll call them to me."

  Quinn went next. "Ditto on the kinetic, telepathic and energy force, plus I can mind lock."

  Evalle had no idea what he was talking about. "What do you mean by mind lock?"

  "I can reach into another mind remotely, lock into their brain waves and see through their eyes. I can guide them as well ... if they don't realize I've invaded their mind and resist. Then I'd have a battle on my hands."

  "I thought the spell coating the walls was blocking us from reaching anyone. How can you access someone's mind from here?" She hadn't lived this long by accepting anything at face value.

  "I can't reach beyond this facility, but I feel air movement. The Medb must have air passages running between the caverns or we'd have already died of asphyxiation. I can access anyone in another space connected to this one by even a thin gap in the rocks."

  Tzader perked up at that last bit. "Can you destroy their mind while you're inside a person's head?"

  Whereas his question had been asked purely for battle strategy, Evalle wanted to hear the answer for another reason. Could Quinn tamper with her mind if they linked? She didn't like the thought of that at all.

  Quinn's pause indicated he'd given Tzader's question some thought. "Yes, but I won't. Not without our warrior queen's approval."

  On the other hand, Evalle had hoped he'd share something no one knew about him, a secret that would make Quinn as vulnerable as she was if she had to shift.

  Fat chance either of these two men would make that mistake.

  "Are you ... dressed, Evalle?" Quinn asked that with sincere concern that surprised her. He thought they'd stripped her?

  "Yes. I'm in jeans and a shirt." The dark brown cotton shirt hanging open over her T-shirt was one of the two changes of clothes she owned--she preferred to live her life unencumbered by anything, even wardrobe. She'd twisted her shoulder-length hair up beneath a frayed ball cap to spend a night of surveillance in Wendover. Lost the cap when she was captured.

  "What about your powers, Evalle?" Tzader clearly wanted all the weapons laid out so they could make a solid plan.

  "I have exceptional vision, similar to infrared illuminated night-vision optics. I have kinetics, telepathy, energy force ... and the Medb failed to remove my boots, which conceal blades." And I might be empathic, but that was a recent surprise and is unimportant right now.

  Quinn gave a low laugh. "Can't wait to get a look at you."

  "Your optics are another plus." Tzader's eyes stared her way. "The next step's gonna take some trust. You willing to link with us so we'll have your full power and night vision?"

  Not if Quinn could overpower her mind.

  "Evalle, I sense hesitation on your part after learning I have the capability to take control of your mind." Quinn's voice was smooth, as though he'd lifted her thoughts. Could he? "But do realize that I could have already done so and locked onto your vision if I'd so chosen."

  He was right.

  She considered her dwindling options and had no choice but to relent. "Linking is our only chance, but first I want an agreement from both of you."

  "On what?" Suspicion filtered into Tzader's commanding voice.

  "That no matter what we have to do to get out of here you vow that we keep any secrets shared between us. You swear on the life of our goddess Macha."

  "You get a head injury when they caught you, woman?" Quinn lashed back, not sounding quite so cultured, as if he hid a less-than-polished background behind that suave voice. "Swearing on Macha's life's a good way to see the last of yours."

  "You think that's any crazier than me making a leap of faith with you two after one of our tribe tricked me?"

  "Our tribe?" Quinn asked.

  "Yes." Evalle was tired of always being doubted. "I swore the same oath you did. I've put my life on the line many times for other Beladors, even though--" She bit off her last words, stopping before she finished with even though I'm treated like some mutt with tainted blood. Never let them know how much their biased stares and constant spying slid under her defenses.

  Beladors might tolerate an Alterant, but any trust she'd received in the past had been an uneasy alliance in tense times. She'd admit that the tribe had reason to be suspicious of Alterants after the last male who'd shifted two months ago had killed nine Beladors trying to contain him. But she'd proven herself for five hard years and deserved respect.

  Too bad they didn't see things the way she did.

  "No deal." Tzader's unmerciful gaze arrowed through the dark in her direction with the intensity of a lightning bolt.

  "I think not as well," Quinn concurred.

  Now what was she going to do?

  The stretch of curved wall on her left that ran between her and Tzader began to fade.

  Evalle tensed. She had no offensive edge. Not until she either linked with the two men or was released from the shackles so that she could shift. Both options twisted her
stomach into a sick knot of terror.

  When the rock disappeared, leaving a hole big enough to drive a small automobile through, a diminutive Medb figure wearing a pale gray robe entered. Light glowed from inside the hood. Where were the four brutes who had hauled Tzader into this chamber?

  "You shouldn't be here." Quinn's soft voice was full of tender feelings.

  Evalle glanced at him. Was he talking to that warlock?

  The person in the robe moved toward Quinn as though floating across the floor. Evalle debated the risk of linking with Quinn and had just about talked herself into helping him when the hood fell away from the Medb's head. Not a warlock but a stunning witch, with hair so bright it had to be the color of a flame in natural lighting.

  Angling her chin at him, the witch stood a head shorter than Quinn. Without saying a word first, she lifted up on her toes and cupped his face with her hands, then kissed him sweetly on the mouth. Quinn didn't just let her kiss him: he joined in until she finally pulled away. "When my men described the three Beladors they'd caught I didn't want to believe what I heard. I had to see for myself. What are you doing here?"

  "Protecting my tribe." Quinn's heavy sigh bulged with regret. "Leave before your men find you here."

  "I don't know how to help you," she whispered desperately.

  "You can't. If you do, they'll kill you for treason, regardless of your being a priestess."

  "You shouldn't have been caught in this trap," she whispered. "They weren't looking for you--"

  "Who do they want?" Quinn's tone sharpened.

  The witch shook her head. "They'll take you last. I'll come up with a way to free you. I have to go." She turned to leave.

  "Kizira."

  When the witch turned around, Quinn softened his tone again. "Don't try to save me. I'm bound to my tribe and will die with these two if they can't also be saved."

  "Ever the fool." She shook her head. "You should not have protected me that day."

  "I must uphold my oath of honor in all situations."

  Quinn's reply renewed Evalle's hope at gaining an ally in keeping secrets. If she had to shift to escape, would either of these two be willing to say she'd done so with honorable intent?

  The Medb witch visiting Quinn lifted her hood back into place and started to leave, then hesitated. "Your time nears." She vanished, and the wall was solid again.

  The tight muscles in Evalle's chest relaxed after that bizarre scene. Quinn was friends--more than friends--with a Medb priestess. Not kosher in the Belador world, but she couldn't fault him if he'd acted out of honor and spared an enemy rather than kill without thought as their bloodthirsty ancestors had. Their goddess would respect that, but Quinn had a secret to protect as vigorously as Evalle shielded hers.

  Now, if only Tzader had something to hide.

  But he was a warrior who would die before exposing any vulnerability. She'd bet he hadn't shared all his powers either.

  "Want to explain that visit, Quinn?" Tzader asked.

  "Sorry, chap. Rather not."

  Evalle smiled. "Maybe you should both reconsider my offer to hold each other's confidence in order to escape."

  Quinn gave a quick shake of his head. "I won't ask either of you to put yourself in jeopardy with Brina or Macha. Not for me."

  Damn. Damn. Damn. What was with these two? Why couldn't they bend an inch? Evalle wouldn't admit defeat, but winning their freedom wasn't looking too promising either. The witch had said they were running out of time.

  Quinn narrowed his eyes. "I'm roving mentally through the tunnels for a mind."

  Evalle was starting to like this guy in spite of his being cozy with a Medb. He knew his ass was in a sling if word of his association with a Medb made it to Brina, but he was still determined to help. Maybe she could trust him.

  Tzader, on the other hand, had yet to get her vote.

  "Got one ... don't think he's the leader." Quinn's voice changed to a monotone. "He's listening to one of the other warlocks ... they can't wait on the spell to drain the Beladors ... Kizira arguing they should wait ... Beladors dangerous even one at a time ... leader says ..." Quinn's head jerked back. His shocked eyes swung toward her. "You're the one they want, Evalle, and you don't want to know what they plan to do to you."

  "Bring it," she said with more arrogance than she felt capable of backing at the moment.

  Quinn's eyebrows tightened, his eyes staring at nothing as he concentrated. He sucked in a breath. "I hope you can take on four warlocks alone, because that's what's coming for you ... Right now."

  The warning in his voice spiked chill bumps along her arms.

  "Link with us, Evalle. Now!" Tzader's tone brooked no argument or questions.

  She had seconds to make up her mind. Tzader and Quinn couldn't link unless she lowered her mental shields. "How do I know you aren't lying just to trick me into linking?"

  "You don't." Quinn shrugged. "Just like I don't know what I'm in for when I link with an Alterant, but I'm willing to trust you for a chance to escape."

  The wall to her left started fading again, slowly widening as though to accommodate more people this time.

  Grace be to Macha, it was time to decide if she'd live or die.

  As the cave wall disintegrated under Medb majik, Evalle realized she only had to answer one question. Could she let even one Belador die after vowing to protect her tribe?

  The answer was an unfortunate one for her ...

  No.

  She sighed softly. "Let's do it."

  Flexing her fingers quickly before the warlocks entered, she opened the channel to her mind for Tzader and Quinn.

  The immediate synergy that shot between the three of them sparked the air with combined power. She flagged physically for a couple seconds, experiencing how drained the other two were; then she focused only on sending energy to them.

  You got some screamin' optics, babe, Tzader's voice whispered in her mind.

  And her vision isn't her only asset. Quinn searched through her thoughts like a warm flood of fine whisky.

  If she wasn't so concerned over the threat entering as soon as the wall disappeared, she'd have smiled at the flirt.

  Don't move until I give the signal. Tzader gave that order with enough heat to let everyone know he was in no mood to joke.

  Guess we'll allow him to lead this one, eh? Quinn's sarcasm took the edge off Evalle's anxiety and filled her with a flush of confidence. She glanced over at the rogue and winked, then sent them a message. I'll wait for the word to attack, but let them unshackle me before you do anything if you want the full force of my power.

  Tzader gave a curt nod of his head.

  Quinn lifted a finger in acknowledgment.

  The wall cleared. Four warlocks in swirling gray robes with no hoods carried torches into the room, all headed for Evalle. Without her sunglasses on, she squinted to be able to see in what, for her eyes, was brilliant light.

  Serpent tattoos wrapped their thick necks, then swept around each bald head. The pointed tip of the viper's head stopped at the bridge above each warlock's wide nose. The vipers' eyes glowed yellow-orange and had narrow black diamond centers. When one warlock stood in front of each of Evalle's arms, they chanted in unison, releasing the shackles.

  She dropped to the floor.

  One of the other two warlocks extended his hand, not touching her. His fingers kinetically circled her throat and lifted her off the dirt floor.

  She fought to breathe. Tzader? What are you waiting on?

  "She is secure, Priestess," the warlock choking Evalle called out in a loud voice.

  Kizira appeared at the entrance, her face stoic.

  Quinn shot his thoughts to Evalle. Tzader was waiting on Kizira to enter. I'll deal with her.

  Kizira closed her eyes and held her hands in front of her with the palms turned up. Her eyes glowed yellow. She began murmuring foreign words that sounded ancient and deadly.

  Now, Evalle, Tzader roared in her mind.

 
Evalle willed herself into battle form, a minimal physical change all Beladors were approved to use when engaging with an enemy. She tightened her fingers into fists. Spiked cartilage rose along the lengths of her arms. Power surged throughout her, expanding muscle tissue and driving her adrenaline to a volcanic level.

  She gripped both hands around the invisible arm holding her and bared her teeth. "You're dying first, just to kick this party off on a high note."

  The blunt-nosed warlock smiled and squeezed tighter, drawing tears to her eyes.

  Using her kinetic ability, she knocked the torches into the dirt, killing the flames. The warlocks howled in anger.

  Ready?

  Tzader and Quinn broke free of their shackles, drawing the other three warlocks around to face them.

  Battle screams ricocheted off the walls, gathering force like the wail of a banshee.

  Pulling in opposite directions with each hand, Evalle snapped the force holding her throat. The warlock screamed in agony, his arm falling uselessly to his side. Released from his power, Evalle again dropped to the dirt floor. He snarled with pain and dove at her. She shoved her hands up, palms out, blocking him with a shield of power. He bounced back, falling to the ground.

  Kizira swayed, caught in a deep trance.

  Evalle stomped each foot and silver spikes with razor-sharp tips shot out from around the boot soles. She took a step toward Tzader, who fought two warlocks.

  Quinn snapped the neck of the Medb he battled, tossing the body aside quicker than yesterday's trash, then snatching one of Tzader's opponents away.

  The warlock Evalle had knocked out gained his feet. He charged her, his mouth opening wide to release demonic curses on a stream of black breath.

  She spun, whipping her boot high, the lethal tips slicing his neck like a buzzsaw. Purple liquid bubbled from the mortal wound, filling the air with a soured-orange stench. Evalle whipped her boot up again in a crosskick. The warlock's head flew off sideways, hitting Kizira in the chest. That jolted the priestess out of her trance. Her glazed eyes started clearing.

  Oops.

  Evalle swung back to the fight, but she couldn't jump in kicking and risk killing the Beladors, who now fought the only two warlocks still alive. Of the two dead, one lay facedown on his chest with his head spun around to stare at the ceiling.

  Tzader battled a warlock armed with a three-pronged sword he hadn't possessed a moment ago.