Treoir Dragon Hoard: Belador Book 10 Page 2

  Gathering his courage, he said, “I wish to ask a favor of you.”

  Hissing echoed.

  He held his breath, but the small spirit lifted a translucent hand.

  Once peace settled again, he continued. “Your mother made the Vikings pay in her day, but I have encountered their descendants. They do not deserve to live. I have done my best to rid the world of them, but I am not your mother. I have some gifts and only ask humbly for help in destroying the rest of your enemies.”

  That eerie quiet descended again.

  Could this child spirit know he lied?

  She said, “I will grant you this aid one time if you do as you say.”

  Fair enough.

  He could find some Viking descendants and kill them to make good on his offer. “Thank you. I require only a small plant.”

  More hissing. Another ghostly hand signal.

  She said, “That is the same as taking a limb from one of us.”

  Was she really going to give him the plant? “I understand and will not let you down.”

  “The last person to steal a plant did so without giving an oath. We are stronger now and will not allow that again. You swear on the blood of our family to do as you say and also harm no female or child.”

  That was not a question, but a demand.

  He hated to swear anything to a supernatural being, but what was the consequence of crossing this spirit? If he asked, she’d probably refuse to give him a plant. Besides, if her reach went beyond this cave, wouldn’t she have gone after the last person to steal a plant?

  She must have taken his silence as confusion. “Break your oath and you will join us for eternity.”

  Once he left this place, he’d never come back here. Just standing here had his skin crawling. His plan was simple and he answered to a powerful goddess. Once he succeeded at what he had in mind, though, he’d never need this kind of magic from anyone.

  He’d be immortal.

  Nodding, he said, “I swear on our family’s blood to do as you request.”

  “Not a request. An order.”

  A sharp curse sat on the tip of his tongue for this mouthy brat, but he was too close to pulling this off. “My mistake. I swear on our family’s blood to use the plant you gift me as you expect.”

  Floating back, she lifted a plant ten inches tall and carried it in her open palm. When she reached him, he took the offering.

  As soon as he did, her tiny hand disappeared.

  Damn, that was weird.

  But he lived in the world of weird.

  Ready to get out of there, he tried to push up to stand, but his legs wouldn’t work. What the hell?

  He asked, “Uh, will you allow me to use my majik to heal my legs?”

  “No. Your legs carry your oath.”

  This might not turn out as he’d hoped after all.

  “Close your eyes,” she instructed in her monotone voice.

  Should he do that?

  Was she jerking his chain and intending to finish him off? What could she do once he closed his eyes? How was he going to reach the door between the museum area and outside? He’d placed a spell on the door to open when he was ready to exit, but he couldn’t move his legs even to crawl.

  “Do you wish to stay with us?” the child asked, sounding genuinely curious.

  “No.” He probably shouldn’t have said that so loud. “I mean, no, please. I want to go, so that I may fulfill my duty.”

  When she said nothing else, he gave up and closed his eyes.

  The red haze returned, but it was inside him.

  He twisted and turned in a whirling ball of writhing energy that seemed to go on forever, then suddenly stopped. Dragging in deep breaths, he opened one eye to peek.

  Nothing but darkness.

  Had she fooled him after all and locked him in with the rest of them? His heart beat crazy and blood rushed through his ears.

  Then he felt ... grass beneath the fingers on one hand.

  Opening both eyes, he moved his hand again, happy to feel more natural terrain around him. He looked up to see a bare outline of clouds hiding the sliver of a moon.

  “I’m outside,” he whispered in a thankful voice. He tried moving his right leg. No pain. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  Calling up his majik, he created a tiny glow to keep from drawing any attention until he figured out exactly where he sat.

  A hint of moonlight slipped out to shimmer across the top of the hill overlooking the cave.

  “I’ll be damned.” Had the little child spirit teleported his body out here?

  That was some kind of power.

  “Wait!” He looked around frantically, then saw the plant she’d gifted him.

  The stem moved gently, waiting patiently as a puppy, with an open flower turned to stare at him.

  “Hello, baby,” he whispered and reached to stroke the petals.

  The flower hissed.

  He snatched his hand back and reminded the plant, “She promised you’d help me.” Drooping over, the flower seemed to sigh.

  That was more like it.

  He hadn’t gone through all that to get a pure Noirre plant for it to misbehave as soon as he touched it.

  CHAPTER 2

  Evalle felt eyes on her as she maneuvered her Suzuki GSX-R motorcycle slowly through a dark, wooded area off a paved road. Her crotch rocket hadn’t been designed for off-road riding, but she’d taken it through worse places.

  The last town she’d noted as she’d cruised southwest of Atlanta had been Whitesburg.

  Dead-quiet streets. Not that surprising for a Saturday night before Memorial Day. Some schools were out for the summer and families had headed to the beach. Might be a bit chilly down on the Gulf Coast, though, with this late cool front rolling through the southeast.

  She doubted anything preternatural was going on out here in the country and so far from Hotlanta, some days known as demon central. But she had no complaint about a relaxing bike ride down back roads with temps in the low fifties.

  Dry skies would be nice. Can’t have everything.

  If a demon or some other predatory supernatural being really was out here harming innocents, she’d introduce it to her spelled blade. That would kick her holiday off.

  Rain continued to drizzle, unable to make up its mind to get serious or quit falling.

  She parked and fished a flat aluminum disc the size of her hand from her tank bag, then dismounted. The disc prevented her kickstand from sinking into the wet ground. Her black bike jacket kept her top half dry and her boots were waterproofed, but her jeans were soaked. She replaced her helmet with a black ball cap and pushed her soaked ponytail over her shoulder.

  Hairs tingled on her neck again.

  That feeling had stayed with her since leaving Atlanta a half hour ago.

  Did she have her own private stalker?

  Does he, she or it think I’m vulnerable right now?

  That brought a smile to her lips.

  Darkness encroached from every direction, but the moon kept slipping out from behind the scattered clouds to offer a dusting of light before hiding again.

  She pulled off her special sunglasses, which protected her uber-sensitive eyes from bright lights. Her natural night vision was a benefit of being a half-breed Belador, better known among other preternaturals as an Alterant.

  The low rumble of a high-performance engine approached.

  Evalle stilled. If she turned, the headlights washing past her body now would blind her.

  The engine silenced and the lights disappeared.

  She spun around as the female driver stepped out and closed the door to her badass black car that looked capable of doing a million miles an hour.

  Adrianna Lafontaine wore a denim jacket and black jeans like a runway statement. Her long blond hair had been pulled back into a single braid and covered with a black cap.

  Closing the car door, she said, “I thought I was meeting Tristan. How’d you get stuck with this gig?
”

  Evalle grumbled, “He guilted me into it. Said his girlfriend was back in town and started pointing out that I get to see Storm every night, blah, blah, blah, whine, whine. I finally told him I’d take this VIPER assignment just to shut him up.” Giving the hot car a second look, Evalle asked, “What are you driving?”

  “McLaren 720 S.” Stepping past the front of her car, Adrianna said, “I’ve been meaning to ask Daegan why we’re supporting VIPER again after they turned their backs on the Beladors last month.”

  Evalle had wondered the same thing when Daegan announced that the Beladors would resume handling assignments from VIPER, a coalition of preternatural beings tasked with protecting humans from their kind. Those same humans were unaware they received this security, or that it was needed, since only a very small number of them knew Evalle and others like her existed.

  Sitting back on the seat of her Gixxer, she explained, “Daegan thinks the bounty hunters VIPER hired to replace us when we pulled back to protect our people could end up being a threat to Beladors and our allies if we don’t step back in to hold a position within the organization.” That made sense and Evalle was glad for allies like Adrianna, a Sterling witch who wielded an ancient majik.

  Evalle trusted Daegan the way she’d never trusted their last leader, a self-serving goddess.

  As a two-thousand-year-old dragon shifter, Daegan had proven his ability to preside over and protect the Beladors.

  “I can see his point,” Adrianna said. “Okay, what are we looking for tonight? The voice mail I got only said to meet at this coordinate to investigate a disturbance reported by a troll.”

  “Right. That troll is a friend of Tristan’s who stays out of preternatural politics, but evidently is well connected inside the Atlanta troll community and beyond. He didn’t want to give the name of his informant, but said if we walk a hundred feet northwest of this location, the informant would find us.”

  “That sounds like a trap.”

  Evalle had echoed the same thought earlier. “I’d agree, but Tristan trusts his friend and vouched for this not being a setup.”

  The witch shrugged. “Fair enough. Tristan wouldn’t make the assertion knowing he’d have to face Storm if anything happened to you.”

  Evalle chuckled. She could handle herself in battle and shifted into a ten-foot-tall gryphon, but she liked knowing her sexy Skinwalker mate had her back. He’d had her back ... and her front ... in the long shower they’d taken before she left.

  Adrianna snapped her fingers. “Mind back on task. What kind of disturbance is it?”

  Ready to get this done and go home, Evalle got serious. “Not sure, only that the informant said it sounds like something wild in the woods and believes it’s unnatural because it doesn’t sound like any animal he’s ever heard. Being that the informant is very likely a troll as well, we have to accept that he should know.”

  “Lovely.” Adrianna had been standing with her body loose, but she became very still and slowly gazed right then left. She whispered, “Do you sense anything?”

  Nodding, Evalle kept her voice down. “I’ve felt eyes on me since I left the city. Somebody must feel the need to get their butt kicked tonight.” She lifted her sunglasses and slipped them in place. “Ready?”

  Adrianna opened her hand where a tiny ball of light spun above the palm. “Some of us need a little light.”

  “That’s the smallest I’ve seen you contain your Witchlock power. Are you gaining better control?”

  “I think so. I haven’t had any way to test it recently.”

  “Let’s hope you don’t have to tonight.”

  “Agreed.”

  Leading the way, Evalle pushed past branches and weeds to find a narrow footpath beaten down.

  That had to be encouraging, right?

  She opened her empathic senses to search for anything beyond herself and Adrianna, which the witch would be doing, too. Her mate, Storm, was a powerful empath. He’d been training her to better utilize her gift.

  After a moment, she picked up on a preternatural presence nearby. While also trying not to catch a tree root with her toe and fall on her face, she focused hard and pinpointed the presence as being off to her left and behind her.

  Not exactly correct. It felt as if the presence was above her.

  Was it in the trees?

  She didn’t hear branches rattling, but then she didn’t hear any other sound besides her, Adrianna and the rain.

  That was probably the informant, right?

  When they reached approximately one hundred feet, Evalle stopped to search the area. Through the trees, she saw an opening and headed that way. When she stepped out of the thick tree cover, she stood in front of a pile of boulders fifteen feet high.

  Nothing about that seemed natural since they weren’t in the mountains and these were the only big rocks she’d seen since arriving.

  It was as if some giant baby had been stacking them like alphabet blocks.

  She crossed her arms and remained thirty feet back to allow herself a good view of the area, but kept sending an occasional glance at the pinnacle of the rock pile.

  Adrianna stepped up next to her.

  They made an odd-looking pair with Evalle so tall and Adrianna barely over five feet.

  She didn’t care what they looked like to anyone else. She and Adrianna had started off on the wrong foot when they first met, but this witch had fought beside her in many battles.

  Adrianna whispered, “Think that’s him?”

  Evalle followed Adrianna’s gaze to the top of the boulders, where a three-foot-tall figure now stood. If she had to guess, she’d say he was a cross between a garden gnome and a lizard troll because of his bushy beard, short tusks poking through that beard, pointy ears and gray-green skin on arms sticking out of overalls.

  Rain seemed to avoid him.

  She murmured, “Looks like a farmer gnome.”

  “Not gnome,” he corrected in a rich baritone, which didn’t fit the image.

  Adrianna murmured, “Maybe a miniature troll?”

  He snapped, “Not troll!” His gaze switched from Adrianna to Evalle. “Which one Tristan?”

  Evalle started explaining, “He’s not here, but I’m—”

  The little guy’s eyes got wide. He took a step back and pulled a tiny sword out of somewhere on that outfit and pointed it at her. “Is trap!”

  That sword might be little, but Evalle knew better than to discount any weapon in the hands of a supernatural being.

  Holding up her hands with palms out in a nonthreatening way, she said, “Not a trap. Please, wait. We’re Tristan’s friends. He couldn’t come and asked us to help.”

  Adrianna hadn’t moved a muscle and Evalle now realized the witch had doused the Witchlock power ball at some point. Good thing or the little guy would be freaking out over that, too.

  He moved another tiny step back. Skittish, but at his size she might be just as wary.

  What could she say to convince him not to run? “Otto will vouch for me.” She had no idea if Tristan’s troll friend would do such a thing, but bluffing was all she had.

  The little guy kept a grim expression parked on his face and gave her a long look.

  She was not the people person of the two and gave Adrianna a how-about-a-little-help glare.

  Offering the irritating little guy one of her signature sexy smiles, Adrianna asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Why?”

  Evalle almost laughed at the grumpy reply instead of the tongue-dropping male reaction the witch usually received.

  Undaunted, Adrianna said, “I like to know who I work with on a job. My name is Adrianna and this is Evalle.”

  “Otto vouch you, too?”

  Evalle held her breath, but Adrianna said, “Of course. Think about it? How would we have found you if Otto had not shared this location?”

  The not-a-gnome scratched his gray beard. He made the sound of a quick inhale and stared at them as if he’d repl
ied.

  Was she supposed to infer his reply from any of that? Evalle asked, “What does that mean?”

  He sighed and shook his head, muttering something, then said, “Ja. I said ja.”

  When had he spoken the word ja?

  Adrianna offered, “His intake of breath is how they sometimes say yes. It’s ingressive phonetic speech.”

  He nodded with another quick inhale.

  Unbelievable. Evalle mentally cursed Tristan. Was she supposed to interpret miscellaneous sounds as words? Getting tired of staring up in this drizzle, she tried to be conversational in hopes of getting him to talk.

  “I’ll make a wild guess that you’re from Sweden.”

  He nodded this time. Was he running out of air for his ingressive whatever?

  Done with meet and greet, Evalle suggested, “Why don’t you tell us what the problem is so we can take care of it and move on?”

  “Much screaming. Three nights. Not natural.”

  “Where?”

  Using his thumb, he pointed behind him, which could be on the other side of the rocks or ten miles in that direction.

  “Have you gotten close enough to see anything that would help us determine what it is?”

  “Why I do that?” He pointed at his chest. “Not VIPER agent. Not killer. Your job. I pass word to troll. He tell Otto. He tell your kind. Is enough.”

  “Our kind?” Evalle asked in disbelief. As if he was any more human than her? At least she looked human.

  Irritated at being labeled unfairly, she straightened him out. “If you mean Beladors, we’re not killers.” Her mind was jumping around with frustration, which caused her to drag up a bad memory of trolls and Sweden. “We only kill to protect others, not like those cold-blooded assassin Svart Trolls who came to Atlanta from your country.”

  His face registered shock when she mentioned the Svart Trolls. Huh.

  She asked, “Hey, is that Svart bunch friends of yours?” She seriously doubted it since he was adamant about not being a troll, but she wanted to push a button that might result in more than choppy and vague answers.

  He lifted his little hands and grabbed his head as if this whole line of discussion was giving him a migraine. Growling as he answered, he said, “Not friends. I hide and travel here with them. Nothing more.”