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Evalle and Storm Page 8
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He clenched hard to hold back his jaguar from breaking free. The animal had been agitated the entire time Evalle healed.
Sucking in a deep breath, Storm caught her scent and his senses sharpened.
His nose turned him toward the massive historical cemetery. Taking off to follow her scent, he rushed across the street, not caring if anyone saw him turn into a blur of movement. He took the lack of screams or car tires squealing as a positive sign and leaped the stone wall to land inside Oakland Cemetery, which sprawled across forty-eight acres.
His natural night vision took over as he ran through long shadows thrown by moonlit monuments.
His jaguar raged to get out. Claws extended from Storm’s fingertips. He forced the beast back down to let him lead in his human form.
Evalle’s shout cut through the silence. “Drop that child and walk away.”
An acidic male voice said, “You can do nothing to me, Belador.”
“Guess we’ll find out. I’ll give you until the count of three to put the child down and vanish. After that, you’re mine.”
The bastard laughed. “You are no threat.”
With Storm’s keen hearing even this far away, he’d caught enough to be sure he wouldn’t put her in danger by racing in. In twenty feet, he’d passed between two massive monuments and entered the area where Evalle evidently faced off with a preternatural who had a child.
Human? Probably.
Before Storm reached the monuments, Evalle snarled, “You bastard.”
Storm lunged forward to find a Medb warlock on the far side of the area clutching a limp child against his chest.
Evalle slapped kinetic hits at two other warlocks emerging from a dark shadow on her left.
Her strikes weren’t slowing them down.
Shifting would create more problems at the moment.
Storm allowed his claws to come out as he sped past Evalle, blindsiding one warlock and slashing his face apart. The high-pitched scream might bring a cop. Most civilians knew better than to rush into a dark cemetery after that sound.
Evalle spun and kicked, using the blades she’d released from the soles of her boots. But that meant her kinetics had truly failed her.
Not good.
Storm finished off the warlock he had by ripping his head free. Purple blood ran from the now headless corpse. He swung to face the mouthy warlock who’d started backing away.
Feeling his head jack out of shape with his jaguar pushing to shift, Storm snarled garbled words through oversized jaws. “Drop child or I eat you.”
Storm took a step forward. Blood dripped from his claws.
The warlock must’ve realized he was about to be on his own. His eyes bulged. He dumped the little body and ran away.
Swinging back to Evalle, Storm wanted to let her finish off her warlock just to give her some confidence, but that damn Medb started chanting in an evil tone.
Black smoke circled him.
Fuck. This.
Storm pulled his jaguar back under control and called up his own dark majik. He slammed the warlock with a hit of Skinwalker smackdown.
The black smoke turned into a cloud of spikes that sucked tight around the warlock and smothered his scream until he finally died. He hit the ground as a shriveled black corpse.
Evalle had been in the motion of kicking the warlock when he turned into ashes. With nothing to hit for resistance, her motion sent her spinning into Storm.
He leaped away, but not fast enough.
Her blade slashed across his shoulder.
He hissed, caught his balance and spun to catch her from landing on her face. She gripped his arms, heaving hard breaths. Perspiration ran down her face and soaked her clothes.
She shouldn’t be this winded.
“Dammit,” she said, eyes on his bloody shoulder.
“No big deal.”
She insisted, “I should’ve sensed the other two in the area and picked up their energy signature before they got that close. They trapped me.”
He couldn’t argue. That’s exactly what happened.
One more sign she seemed to be losing ground with her powers.
The Medb coven had to be running wild in the city for three to be so bold. Or had their miserable goddess queen lost her ever lovin’ mind and put out a hunt order for Evalle?
Storm had been in a Tribunal meeting with Daegan along with that Medb goddess when the dragon king made it clear he would make a statement out of any of his people being harmed again. He and Storm had been searching for Evalle at the time.
Not even the Medb queen could be that crazy.
Those warlocks had to be opportunistic, probably wanting to expose a gryphon to the public. With Evalle unable to shift, the joke ended up being on them.
Would there ever be an end to nonhumans wanting to capture and use Evalle for one reason or another? Not as long as they still thought she could shift into a gryphon.
He called up his healing, pushing power hard to rush the process. Anything to wipe the guilty look off Evalle’s face. It must’ve worked.
She turned away searching for something. “What happened to the little boy the warlock had?”
Storm nodded across the forty-foot space. “By the tree. I wouldn’t have let that Medb run off with him.”
Rushing over, Evalle knelt down and picked up the little body, struggling to lift him as she stood.
Storm grimaced. With her preternatural strength, that boy should be easy to lift.
Hugging the child to her, she walked back to Storm. The kid had on ragged jeans, a T-shirt with cartoon images, and sneakers. Just some human child the Medb had snatched as bait.
Looking down, she said, “He looks to be about five. We have to find his parents.”
No, the police had to do that.
He wanted his mate out of here and somewhere safe.
Storm suggested, “Can you ask Trey to send a Belador who’s on the force? They can deal with the warlock bodies, too.”
She said, “Good idea. I didn’t think about that.” She stood still, staring at nothing while she reached out telepathically to Trey.
Frowning, she glanced at Storm. “He isn’t answering me.”
Trey had ridiculous power when it came to telepathy and handled communications for the Beladors in this city.
He would not ignore Evalle.
Had he even heard her?
“Let me see if I can reach him.” Storm pulled out his phone and gave Trey a quick rundown as soon as the Belador answered. Trey said he’d send in a cleanup crew and instructed Storm to meet a cruiser near the far end of the cemetery where they’d have less chance of being seen.
Taking the child from Evalle, Storm relayed the plan as he led them to meet the car.
“Did Trey say he heard my telepathic call?” Evalle asked.
“I didn’t ask,” Storm admitted, which was true. He hadn’t wanted to start telling Evalle’s people she had issues.
She could tell them if the time came for disclosure.
She walked along quietly, but her emotions churned up a cloud of anxiety. She admitted, “I might as well tell you what’s been on my mind. I asked Adrianna to use Witchlock to see if she could jumpstart my power or maybe even ... my gryphon.”
Storm had to bite down on his first reply of hell, no.
He maintained an easy gait, doing his best not to spew empty words about how everything would be okay once they bonded. He couldn’t in good conscience say all of this would end well.
Her telepathy appeared to work in Treoir when she spoke to the gryphons outside and to Daegan inside the castle, but that might have just been a benefit of Treoir.
Could Adrianna’s power do what he and Garwyli had been unable to accomplish?
Storm said, “I’m not crazy about anyone experimenting on you—”
She jumped in. “It was my idea, not hers. I asked her to do this.”
“I understand, sweetheart. Give me a chance to finish.”
Ca
sting him an apologetic glance, she said, “Go ahead.”
“I trust Adrianna to not do something to harm you, but she has yet to fully control Witchlock.” He had to meet her halfway on this, though. After a couple more steps, he said, “I’ll support you doing this if we bond first.”
Evalle started shaking her head. “You have no idea what could happen.”
“True. I still know you’ll be stronger if we bond.”
Her mouth set in a firm line as she walked a few more steps. She admitted, “I have a couple more lines on my body.”
Shit. He had a feeling that couldn’t be good news. “What do you think it means?”
“To be honest, I don’t know, but it seems my powers are weakening so the lines might be a sign of losing my preternatural powers.”
“No.” He refused to believe such a thing.
“It could be, Storm,” she whispered, her heart in her voice. “If so, we have no idea what will happen if we open a bond between the two of us.”
Finally, he understood why she’d been pulling back from bonding. “I can’t make you do anything,” he said. “I would never try to either, but I’m asking you to not attempt this with Adrianna until we bond.”
Evalle ran her fingers through her loose hair. “She won’t do it if we’re bonded. Adrianna is concerned about what her majik would do to yours.”
Well, shit. He still believed Evalle would need his power to experiment with her body. He’d take his chances and argued, “I’m strong enough to deal with it.”
She stopped, forcing him to turn to her. “You can’t know that, Storm, and I can’t lose you.”
“I can’t stand by and watch you take this risk when your powers aren’t a hundred percent.” They were getting nowhere with this. He feared few things, but Evalle running out on her own to solve this terrified him.
He needed her agreement on one thing now when they could discuss it with no pressure. “I meant what I said a moment ago about not forcing you to do anything, sweetheart. Ever. That being said, I want to ask you for something since every step forward with all of this is one into the unknown.”
“Okay, what?” she asked in that worried voice that tugged at his heart.
“If you reach what you feel is the end of your power or face any moment you think you can’t overcome physical issues, I want your agreement I can open the bond no matter where we are or what we’re doing. Please don’t make me stand by and watch you lose ground without trying to help, because you wouldn’t want to be in that position.”
They stood there for a long stretch until she said, “I agree to allow you to bond us if I’m in dire straits. You’re right, I would want the same opportunity in your shoes.”
His heart relaxed with at least that. His mate had a streak of honor a mile wide. He leaned across the kid he carried to give her a kiss. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but I’m not happy about waiting to get with Adrianna.”
Win one battle at a time had been his constant mantra around Evalle, but this situation was unlike any other. She was no longer the skittish female he’d first met. He respected his mate’s inner strength, which was why he addressed a potential problem. “We can make getting with Adrianna happen, but I would appreciate it if you agree to not go to her unless we’re bonded.”
Indecision rode across her face while he held his breath. Frowning, Evalle released a loud sigh. “Okay. I’ll wait to give her a shot until we’re bonded.”
He picked up a wave of disappointment. She tried to hide it with a polite smile, but guilt climbed his neck at letting his mate down. He’d give this woman the world on a string if he could, but couldn’t bend on her going to Adrianna without the benefit of his energy and majik.
Preternatural powers were different for everyone.
Evalle needed to be strong enough to test hers.
As they reached the end of the cemetery, an Atlanta police cruiser sat parked with a uniformed officer standing nearby on the sidewalk. Preternatural power radiated from the thirty-something man with a narrow face and sympathetic eyes.
Belador.
Alterants like Evalle normally carried more power than her Belador teammates.
Now that Storm had exited Treoir, he had to admit he’d hardly felt Evalle’s energy.
The officer took the little boy from Storm and said, “We have a missing child description from the projects not far from here that fits him. Was he hurt?”
Evalle said, “No.”
“You have any idea why he’s unconscious or when he’ll wake up?”
“Not really.” Evalle added, “Warlock might have used a sleep spell on him.”
The little boy mumbled something like he was coming around.
Noticing the child starting to wake, the officer laid him in the back seat of his car and covered him with a blanket. Turning back, he asked, “You’re Evalle Kincaid, right?”
“Yes.” She turned toward Storm. “This is my mate, Storm.”
Storm shook the man’s hand then the Belador officer asked, “Do you know why that kid was grabbed? I’m keeping Trey up to date on any nonhuman intel.”
Evalle explained, “A Medb warlock used him to lure me into a trap. Storm scared the one holding the boy. The warlock dropped the child and escaped. He killed the other two.”
“We killed them,” Storm stressed.
Evalle said nothing.
The Belador gave a nod. “Okay, he may be safe now if that family wasn’t the target, but I’ll have one of our people keep an eye on them until we feel sure no one is coming back around.” He added, “Thanks. Be careful who you trust.”
Storm asked, “What are you talking about?”
“Not sure you’ve heard, but rumor has it some of the bounty hunters working for VIPER as agents are teaming up with the Medb. We have no idea who’s on our team these days unless they’re Beladors or declared allies of the dragon.”
VIPER represented a coalition of nonhumans who protected humans from predatory preternaturals. The organization seemed to be breaking apart at the seams. Everything Storm heard translated into more danger for Evalle.
She stayed inside all day to avoid the sun.
He couldn’t expect her to hide at night from a threat. Shadowing her everywhere as a bodyguard wouldn’t go over any better.
Hell. He’d made a mistake by bringing her back here.
When the cruiser pulled away from the curb and drove off, Storm’s phone rang. In his hurry to silence the call, he hit the wrong button, making it live.
A human wouldn’t have heard the words as clearly as Storm when a voice said, “Storm, if that’s you, don’t hang up. This is Bidziil.”
His uncle. Dammit.
Evalle gave him a just-do-it look.
Storm lifted the phone. “I can’t talk right now, Bidziil. This is ... I’m busy at the moment.”
Clearly ignoring Storm’s words, his uncle rushed ahead. “Please listen, Storm. This is important. Critical even.”
Evalle watched him silently.
Storm had his hands full trying to navigate what was going on with his mate and figuring out if he should take her back to Treoir. Was it too much to ask for her to be free to move around without expecting an attack or trap constantly?
Hell, was it too much to ask for his uncle to stay out of his hair? Storm’s father would expect him to show respect no matter how much Bidziil annoyed him.
He told his uncle, “I wish I could help you, but—”
“Storm,” Bidziil interrupted, his voice pleading.
Trying to sort this out so he could move on, Storm asked, “You have how many hundred employees? Why do you need me?”
Evalle’s eyebrows lifted in curiosity.
He’d never talked about his uncle, because their world didn’t involve him. His father had been disappointed in how Bidziil and the others failed to preserve the Dine culture.
Storm had kept his presence in this country secret from his uncle until he’d
had to contact Bidziil for help. That had been back when the Tribunal sent Evalle to the middle of a South American jungle where she’d faced off with a monster.
For her, Storm put his anger and ego aside to gain resources he needed immediately.
Storm could locate her, but to actually reach her quickly before the monster killed her, he’d needed access to a private plane.
Ironically, the monster had been Tristan, the same one who just revived her days ago when no one else could.
With all that in mind, Storm did owe his uncle something, but it shouldn’t require going to see the man.
Feeling the weight of his father’s expectation that his son would step up to help family, no matter what, Storm reluctantly asked, “What’s going on, Bidziil? Maybe I can send some people.”
“I wish this was that simple, but it’s not. We can’t have outsiders here. If you’ll just come out, I can show you why I need you specifically. I can’t talk about it over the phone. I don’t trust electronics with what is going on.”
What about the electronic slot machines filling his uncle’s casino?
Guilt banged around inside Storm.
Bidziil hadn’t hesitated to provide funds for the private jet he claimed had been paid for with money that belonged to Storm anyhow. His uncle had evidently been managing it for Storm’s father.
Swallowing hard, Storm wrestled with trying to do right by his uncle, but he couldn’t get past a long-held grudge. Storm’s father might not have gone to South America and died there if not for Bidziil pushing so hard to take their clan in a direction his father opposed.
Had your father not left the reservation and moved to South America, you wouldn’t have been born or met Evalle, his conscience reminded him.
Or had that voice been Storm’s spirit guide, Kai?
“Storm, you there?” Bidziil asked quietly.
“Yes.”
His uncle spoke hesitantly. “I didn’t want to call you, but ... your people need you.”
They weren’t his people. Not really.
He had Dine, or Navajo, blood and knew some of the culture, thanks to his father, but he’d been raised in the Ashaninka tribe.
Storm asked, “What if I come out in two weeks?”
“Two hours is too long,” Bidziil replied in a grave voice.