Rogue Belador Read online

  But Tzader was glad Quinn had put his foot down. Lanna had survived several dangerous situations, including getting hit with the Noirre spell that still influenced Brina.

  The two women had ended up in another realm, where Lanna convinced Brina to search for Tzader in her dreams. Brina had found him while dream walking, and that's when they'd made love. But Tzader hadn't realized at the time that it had been anything other than a normal dream.

  Now Brina was pregnant.

  But now that he thought on it, something bugged him about what had happened to Lanna and Brina. Tzader turned around. "Lanna?"

  For him, the sweet Lanna returned. "Yes, Tzader?"

  "Did the Noirre majik thrown on you and Brina ever affect you?"

  "No."

  Quinn asked, "Why do you think that was?"

  "Now I am helpful, Cousin?" She bit out words borne of teenage frustration.

  Quinn growled, and mumbled a Russian curse.

  Lanna reminded him, "I am still fluent in Russian."

  At that, Quinn raked a hand over his perpetually neat hair, turning it into a tousled mess.

  Amusement twinkled in Lanna's gaze. She addressed Tzader. "I believe Noirre was meant only for Brina, not me. I was captured by the spell, but that was accident. Spell was not cast upon me specifically."

  That fit what he'd learned during his dream walk. "Makes sense. The Medb wanted Brina gone to destroy the Belador power base."

  Lanna shook her head. "You do not understand me."

  "Nobody does," Quinn interjected.

  She gave Quinn a quelling look that should make him think twice about annoying the little blonde terror behind him. Hadn't Quinn told Tzader about how Lanna could shake the foundation of a building when she got upset?

  Tzader said, "Would you explain so that I understand, Lanna?"

  Sitting up straighter, she gave him her full attention. "The traitor who threw Noirre majik on Brina chanted a spell. When I try to stop him, he shoved me over to Brina. That was how I got caught, but spell was not created for me. I heard very little chant before everything became blurry and we disappear, but I did hear him use Brina's name as part of chant."

  That was something Ceartas hadn't mentioned, but he had said the dragon was the only one who could save Brina so maybe it hadn't been necessary to spell it out further. If it had been a blanket spell, the residual effect would have influenced Lanna as well.

  Tzader asked Lanna, "So if someone knew how the spell had been created and the actual chant, could they undo whatever was done by the spell?"

  "Storm and Evalle broke spell and brought us back."

  "Let's say, hypothetically, a spell like that was thrown at someone else who didn't try to teleport away like you two did. Could someone other than the spell creator reverse the spell if Brina was present?"

  Lanna pondered a moment, nipping at her fingernail. "Spell was created by Queen Flaevynn. To change or break spell, it would take someone with equal or more power." She paused and stared at Tzader. "I think it could be done, but exact spell originally used would be necessary. Why?"

  He didn't want to share anything more with her. "I'm just replaying it all in my mind and thinking out loud about how it worked. That's all." He turned back around and stared at nothing. Ceartas had claimed the dragon was the only creature alive who'd been privy to the original Noirre spell Flaevynn had created.

  Logic still dictated that the dragon was Brina's only hope.

  It wasn't that Tzader still debated what had to be done. He'd made his decision back in the castle, but he couldn't overlook any opportunity to confirm that decision as the only one he could make.

  Lanna sat forward and put her hand on the back of Quinn's seat. "Cousin, I have thought about Kizira and maybe if I touch her I will see something that will help us find Phoedra."

  The young woman continually showed her backbone and how loyal she was to family. She'd tried holding a braided piece of hair that Kizira had given to Quinn. Several strands of the hair belonged to Phoedra, the daughter Kizira had birthed without Quinn's knowledge.

  Hell of a thing to find out as the child's mother died in his arms.

  Lanna's one attempt to use her gift for finding someone by holding something personal like hair, had ended with a protective spell burning her hands.

  Quinn shook his head. "No. I appreciate your willingness to try once more, but I will not put you at risk again."

  She sat quietly for a moment as Quinn wove the Lexus through the dark streets, probably heading for an all-night diner he'd eaten at with Tzader and Evalle.

  Lanna's voice came out softly, no hint of her earlier aggravation with him. "I do not want to be the one to make you feel bad, Cousin, but you must not leave Kizira's body in the cemetery tomb."

  "Trust me, Lanna, it's safe."

  "You may think so, but many will want to draw her power out, and maybe her secrets, too."

  He frowned with a look of concentration. "Are you talking about necromancy?"

  "Yes. There is much evil in the city now that the Medb coven sends warlocks and witches in. It is not safe to leave her this way."

  Quinn's throat bobbed with a deep swallow. "Like I said, no one can get to her."

  Sighing, Lanna leaned back and glanced at Tzader, who had turned to watch her.

  She shook her head and mouthed He is wrong.

  Chapter 12

  Gritting her teeth, Evalle pushed the speed limit on the way from Midtown back to Inman Park on the lower east side of the city.

  What was Tristan thinking?

  Did he want Macha to use him as an example to the other gryphons? Since the Medb attack on the castle, no one traveled into or out of Treoir's realm without Macha's permission.

  And Evalle had no doubt that Tristan was AWOL, since Quinn had not been informed of any Alterant-gryphon coming to Atlanta. Quinn would have contacted Evalle immediately.

  That handshake with Grady was the fastest she'd ever done, after shoving him into a bush so no human would see his body turn solid.

  Tires on Storm's truck squealed as Evalle saw the turn she'd been hunting at the last minute. A streetlight there would have helped. Her headlights pierced the dark, catching on trees, garbage cans, and cars parked along the street.

  She wanted her motorcycle back. Two wheels handled curves so much better.

  Oskar sat up, calmly looking around. He seemed not the least bit bothered by the truck catching air when she took the fast corner.

  When she neared the street in Inman Park that Grady had given her, she cut her headlights off, slowed to a crawl, and made her last turn.

  She studied the mix of houses that included everything from Greek Revivals to Queen Anne architecture to bungalows built during the late 1800s. Storm had driven her through the older residential areas on the fringe of downtown, and that familiarity was coming in handy now as she hunted for her Treoir escapee.

  Most of the neighborhood was dark, locked up for the night. All except for one quaint Victorian house where the outside security lights shone.

  A guy who looked very much like Tristan from the side stood at the bottom of three steps leading to the front door.

  At least he wore sunglasses to hide his glowing green eyes.

  What was he doing here?

  The elderly woman standing in the doorway handed Tristan something. Had to be a notepad, because he moved as if he scribbled a quick note, and handed it back before she closed the door.

  Lights went out as he sauntered back to the street, heading in Evalle's direction.

  She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting.

  Tristan was an idiot for leaving Treoir when they were so close to a vote on the gryphons' right to be a recognized race.

  He paused and lifted his head, searching. He looked in her direction.

  Yep, gotcha.

  As he stood there staring, Evalle started to worry. Tristan had the ability to teleport, which was not one of the usual gryphon abilities, be
cause he'd been given a strange witch brew that had altered his powers.

  When he continued striding toward her, she let out a breath and got out of the truck.

  She shouldn't be so surprised that he was here.

  Tristan had tried to teleport out of Treoir once before, but Brina had been missing from the castle, which diminished the Belador part of Tristan's powers. That attempt hadn't worked.

  Had he figured it out since then, or had someone else teleported him?

  He didn't have the decency to look guilty. He wore a dark hoodie, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. When he closed the distance between them, he asked, "How'd you find this address?"

  She shut the truck door and leaned back against it, looking up at the black heavens, searching for patience. No such luck. She crossed her arms against the chill air and dropped her gaze to Tristan. "Don't even think I'm going to answer that. What the hell are you doing off Treoir? And, for that matter, how are you here? You told me you couldn't teleport between realms."

  "I couldn't. Not until Brina came back and everyone with Belador blood got jacked up with a new load of power."

  Evalle had seen Tristan on Treoir from mid-December to the end of the year while she'd stayed with the pack and in gryphon form to fly security alongside them.

  He'd failed to mention any of this back then.

  She watched his face and asked, "How many times have you teleported back here?"

  "This year?" he popped off.

  "You did this last year, too?"

  "What? Should I have just sat tight and waited on yet another group to tell me what to do?" He unleashed anger that she knew had been simmering for a while. When she didn't reply, he kept going. "Don't give me any crap about this either. You'd do the same thing in my shoes."

  She slapped her hands over her face and muttered, "You must be suicidal. What could make you..." She couldn't finish that sentence, because her mind had jumped to what would cause her to make the same gamble.

  Storm and Feenix. She'd do anything to return to them. She lowered her hands, feeling the weight of seven other gryphons wanting at least what she had. Why couldn't the gryphons have lives without this crappy tug of war? Why couldn't they just live the way they wanted?

  Tristan said nothing. She considered where she found him. He'd been leaving a note at that house.

  Evalle took a guess. "Do you have a girlfriend here?"

  Tristan leveled a hard gaze at her. "You know what? I was captured by Beladors and locked in a jungle prison for five years, then I'm captured by the Medb. They turn me into a gryphon and ship me off to fight a damn war on Treoir. Now I'm a captive once again on Treoir." His voice turned deep and furious. "No one, not one fucking person, has ever considered that I might have a life if I wasn't caught in the middle of all this shit that I did not ask for."

  She had the same complaint, but that didn't change the fact that this was his life. It wasn't her fault. Wasn't his fault. They were both pawns in this stupid battle between Macha and Queen Maeve. "You didn't answer my question, Tristan, but nice sidestep."

  "I don't have to answer your questions."

  She'd dealt with him during many difficult situations. Allowing him to get under her skin never played out well.

  Drawing a calming breath, Evalle said, "Listen, Tristan, I'm not arguing with you. Of all people, I get it. I want every Alterant-gryphon to choose how to live. I'm sick of being a second-class citizen, too."

  "Second-class? Try not even a recognized race. Inmates in human prisons have more rights than we do."

  "I know, but I've been sucking it up to do everything possible to keep all the parties happy. I've played nice with the damn Medb just to keep things calm here, because we're so close to getting a vote."

  "On what? The equivalent of living on a reservation like the humans did to the Native Americans? Ask your tomcat what he thinks of that."

  She could not get a break tonight. "What do you want me to do?"

  "Nothing. I get your position here, and with the Beladors, but I don't have one. I'm just one more gryphon in the pack. You're the leader. We have to follow you at some point, but don't be surprised if you look around and I've decided to find out what happens if I don't follow you."

  Crossing her arms, she leaned back against the hood. "I don't want to lead anyone. Besides, you've been the one in charge while I was gone."

  "Don't remind me," he groused.

  She frowned. "In fact, who's watching over the pack now while you're gone?"

  He scowled and swung around to lean back next to her. "Believe it or not, they're adults and they've been doing just fine without someone standing over them. I don't stand over any of them when I'm there. All I do is keep them from killing each other out of frustration over being trapped, and I bring them--"

  She jerked her head up, but Tristan had clamped his lips. "You've been bringing them back here? Are you crazy, Tristan?"

  As if he wasn't already pissed enough, that did it. "No, I'm not. And the only reason they aren't completely off their rockers is because I teleported each of them here for a holiday break."

  Shocked, she sat back, arms crossed, thinking. What was the point of arguing? He'd said it best. They were all adults, including Tristan.

  Changing her tone to one of curiosity, Evalle asked, "Doesn't it strain your powers to teleport someone else?"

  "Yes."

  "How'd you hide that two gryphons were missing each time?"

  "Until you came to the island during December, we were flying double shifts, which gave everyone extra time off." He shrugged. "I had to fly a few extras shifts each time to make up for my place in the rotation, but we all agreed to cover for the group."

  Tristan could be the most infuriating man she'd ever met sometimes, but he had a streak of loyalty he hated to admit. He'd taken on extra duty and pushed his powers to bring members of the pack home for a visit.

  Instead of yelling at him, Evalle felt bad about not having helped him. "When was your last trip?"

  "The day you showed up to spend the rest of December with us. I'd just returned with Petrina and Bernie."

  "Three? You teleported three at a time?"

  He muttered a curse. "I sort of figured out under duress that I can teleport more than one if we link."

  "What kind of duress?"

  "Tell you about that another time, but that reminds me of something I did want to pass on."

  "Like you would have found me while you were here?"

  "No," he said with pure honesty. "But I'd have figured out how to send the information before I left."

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "There's a human group hunting for nonhumans. There. I've done my civic duty and told you."

  She pondered on that for a moment. "Are you talking about that guy, Kossman? He's a medical researcher or something."

  "Trust me on this, Evalle, he's hunting for nonhumans. He's not out to harm us, but he's putting big bounty money out. At fifty thousand a pop, it's bringing in plenty of calls. That's bad enough, but nonhuman traffickers are getting into the picture. They aren't taking their captures to Kossman. They're selling them on the black market to people like Queen Maeve. The only way I convinced the other gryphons to stay on Treoir right now is because it's too dangerous for them with VIPER, the Medb, and now greedy bounty hunters gunning for them."

  Life just never got any easier. But that gave her an idea. "Have you heard of Kossman putting a bounty out on witches?"

  "No. He's after something that no one would believe is real. A lot of humans know about witches."

  "You mean he wants something like a gryphon?" Evalle joked.

  "Alterants, to be specific."

  She sighed. VIPER knew about Kossman, but didn't consider him a serious threat. She'd have to inform Quinn and Tzader that his hefty bounties presented real issues. "So what are you doing here, Tristan?"

  "That's my business."

  She silently bounced around her options
, and only one made sense. "You can't stay out here. Come back to my place."

  "With you, a fire-breathing gargoyle, and a Skinwalker who'd just as soon gut me as look at me? Pass."

  "Feenix will not torch you, and Storm won't kill you. Not unless you do something to harm me." She grinned then a new thought hit her. "Can't you just teleport back to Treoir?"

  "Not yet," he admitted. "Not without linking. I need time to rest and regain enough power to teleport alone, but don't worry. I've got a place to stay out of sight until then."

  "Are you teleporting to this safe place?"

  "No. I don't want to waste even that much energy. It was actually pretty easy when I linked with Petrina and Bernie."

  When Tristan stepped away and turned to face her with goodbye in his eyes, she asked, "Really, are you involved with someone here? I'm not going to tell a soul, but she might be in danger when you're not around if someone finds out she's involved with you."

  "I know that. I've taken precautions to protect her, but she's out of town right now. Out of the country, in fact. That's the only reason I'm not staying long."

  That was all she would get out of Tristan. She angled her head toward Storm's truck. "I'll give you a ride."

  That got his attention and softened the grim look on his face. "Deal."

  Evalle opened the driver's door. "Hop in the back."

  "What's the matter? You don't want to be seen with me in the front seat?" he chided.

  She smiled. "Go ahead and sit in the passenger seat. I just thought you'd be more comfortable in the back."

  He gave her a curious look, but walked around and opened the passenger door to get in.

  Or, rather, he tried to get in.

  Oskar stood up, showing his pretty teeth and giving Tristan a throaty bullfrog snarl. Impressive.

  "Shit!" Tristan backed away from the door.

  "Hey, be nice to Oskar," she warned.

  "What the hell is an Oskar?"

  "My new sidekick."

  Tristan climbed into the back seat, sliding over directly behind Evalle. With everyone loaded, she watched the rearview mirror as he shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head. When he met her gaze, she asked, "Where to?"

  He kept cutting his eyes toward the passenger seat, but Oskar had quieted. "You can drop me at the Ponce de Leon and Peachtree Street intersection."

  What was there? Fox Theater came to mind. Tristan would not give her his actual address.