Rogue Belador Read online

  Macha would push Brina and Allyn together the minute Brina lost her grasp on her mind.

  He longed to tell her about the baby, but Brina had a tenuous control over her mind. If she slipped and let Macha know that she knew, Macha might snatch Tzader back into Treoir before he had a chance to reach the dragon.

  And it wouldn't be to congratulate him on his impending fatherhood.

  Brina took a breath and went on. "I've been pretendin' I still don't have memories and testin' Macha to see what she'll do. She's pressurin' me, and warned that I should bond with someone now to begin buildin' new memories."

  "That bitch."

  In a rare moment, Brina allowed the curse to pass unchecked. "When I told her I was too tired to be considerin' another man at this moment, she told me it was imperative to my health that I not delay. I know I'm more tired than usual, but ... what could she possibly mean by that? Tell me the truth, Tzader," Brina demanded. "Don't keep me in the dark. Am I dyin'?"

  "What? No. You're just tired from ... trying to regain your memories. I won't allow anything to happen to you." He'd said the first words that his heart shouted out, but guilt swamped him over hiding the fact that she did face dying. If Ceartas had told the truth, Brina would become incapacitated, maybe even comatose, which would put her and the baby at risk once she could no longer maintain her health.

  He also hated the fact that he couldn't tell her she was pregnant. Brina would deal with Macha to buy Tzader time to deliver an answer for her situation, but if Brina knew of her pregnancy and Macha pushed too hard, his stubborn warrior queen might try to teleport away from Treoir to protect the baby.

  Macha would never allow that, and Tzader did not want to give the goddess any reason to escalate things before he had a chance to free the dragon.

  If successful, he'd suffer the consequences of crossing Macha.

  And he'd lay waste to an entire world that dared to separate him from his family.

  Brina looked around the room, which was too dark for much to show. "Where are you, Tzader?"

  Should he tell her? What if she never saw this again? He said, "In the house I built for us. It was to be my engagement surprise for you, but ..." Life and commitment to duty conspired against us, he finished silently.

  "We will have our chance," she said with fierce determination. "In fact, I don't want to see it now. I want you to show the house to me when this is all behind us. That brings me back to why I was wantin' to see you. What is it you're doin' before you come back to see me, and what's this red thing I'm holdin'?"

  His heart hurt at the idea of not including her in his confidence. He wanted to tell her about going after the dragon to remove the Noirre spell still influencing her, but the less she knew about his plans, the better for her and their child.

  Macha couldn't be trusted. She might even compel Brina to tell what she knew.

  He didn't want to outright lie to Brina either. "You're holding a scale from a dragon. Don't allow Macha to find out about it." If he hadn't rescued the dragon by the time the scale's power ran out, it would be because Tzader was either captured ... or dead.

  "Stop treatin' me like a wee bairn, Tzader. You told me about not showin' it to anyone and I won't be showin' it," Brina snapped, her short temper surfacing again. "That's why I'm wearin' this ridiculous gown, so I can hide the scale in my pocket. I feel normal as long as I touch it, so at least we have this."

  "Right," he said, rather than admit the scale had a limited shelf life. "I've got a lead on a way to fix your memories so you won't need that scale."

  "Macha didn't mention that."

  "It's because she doesn't know. I tried to tell her after you left the room, but she wouldn't listen to me and, to be honest, I think she may not want me for your husband."

  Shock and fury warred in Brina's face. Fury won. "Macha's goin' to suffer serious disappointment if that's the case. I'll have no one but you. Not even a goddess will change that."

  There was the woman he'd fallen in love with when she'd first challenged him to a knife-throwing match.

  "What's this plan you have?"

  He couldn't tell her that, but neither did he want to keep handing her one lie after another. "I don't want to say until I have all my answers and that isn't being evasive. I just want to be sure before I say more." I also don't want to give you anything Macha can find out about. But he'd keep that to himself.

  With a flick of irritation, Brina brushed a handful of hair from her face and said, "Fine. But tell me you won't be goin' off on your own with no help."

  He could do that. "Evalle, Storm, and Quinn are going to help me find what we need to fix your memories." That sounded far better than saying they were joining forces to go rogue and steal a Medb throne. "We're meeting in a couple of hours to get started. I just came home to shower and catch some shut-eye."

  "Where is this meetin'? I should join all of you. I can clearly still travel in hologram."

  "No!" He regretted shouting the minute that word shot of out his mouth.

  "No? As in you think to be tellin' me what I can or cannot do?"

  "Of course not, Brina." Even in hologram form, Brina could unleash her power. Calming his voice, Tzader said, "You said you were tired. The more you rest, the easier it will be for that red scale to help you regain your memories." That might be the case. "Also, you'll want to be rested and at your best when I return. I'll need you then more than ever."

  Suspicion swept across her narrowed gaze. Brina was not easily fooled, and he wouldn't have a chance at it if not for her trust, which left him with a bad taste since he was taking advantage of it.

  She shoved her hands in the deep pockets of her gown. "I suppose you're right."

  "I wish I could kiss you, muirnin." He'd feel better about convincing her to stay away if he could apologize without the words, but he couldn't have her showing up while they were discussing the dragon.

  Her eyes shone, but she forced a smile to her lips, refusing to allow a tear to slip out. "We'll catch up on our kissin' and lovin' soon. Until then ... " Her voice drifted off. She normally left quickly in this form but her hologram faded slowly, as if she couldn't bear to let go of watching him. At the last second before she blinked out, Brina said, "Meet me in the dream world."

  Hell. He wanted her so much, he was tempted.

  She yawned and came back into focus.

  Some days, Tzader just wanted to be a man and for Brina to be a woman. No Beladors, no Medb, nothing but the two of them. "You're tired, love. If I go to the dream world, you won't get any rest."

  "Ah, but you're wrong. Every time I return after seein' you there, I'm recharged."

  "Really?"

  "I would not lie to ya."

  Guilt pummeled his chest. He'd lie to her, but only to save her. Sleep dragged at him, pulling him down. He could reset his alarm and spend some time with her. "Go sleep, love, and I'll join you as soon as I can."

  Her eyes brightened. "I don't feel so tired there. Maybe this time I can convince you to do more than before." She waggled her eyebrows, flirting with him.

  He wanted to hold her so much it physically hurt. It was the one place Macha had not interfered. Could she find them in the dream world if she knew about their meetings? If so, why hadn't she yet? Macha was not one to respect anyone's privacy.

  But every minute that went by might be the last he'd have with Brina.

  If he thought too long on that, it would cripple him.

  He would not give up hope until his last breath.

  Chapter 19

  Storm followed Evalle's directions to Mattie's house and parked along the street.

  He caught the confused look on Evalle's face as she took in the empty driveway.

  Storm explained, "Faster to leave from out here than a driveway, if necessary, and nobody can block me in."

  "That makes sense. I like the way you think."

  If they were alone, she'd really like what he had in mind, but they had to deal with this first
before he could get her where he wanted her... in the middle of their new bed.

  She stepped out and surveyed the neighborhood, with its eclectic mix of houses from recent remodels updated for wealthy urbanites, to original structures created of stone and brick that were built close to a century ago. Some of the structures had shingle siding and most of them were tucked in close to one another.

  Most, but not Mattie's. Her quaint, 1930s-era brick home sat on a half acre of land, with a driveway that stretched from the road to a detached garage in the back. A half acre in this area translated into a piece of real estate worth seven figures.

  The prestigious Emory University Hospital had been good for property values.

  Evalle said, "Mattie's house looks like it belongs in a fairy tale."

  "Like Hansel and Gretel?" he quipped.

  She rolled her eyes.

  Storm's empathic sense picked up nothing unusual, but his survival instinct was telling him to look at the house, and then get Evalle away from here. Or maybe it was just his need to have her alone without carpenters, decorators, or VIPER agents around.

  Still, he wouldn't discount anything he sensed. Someone other than the Medb might be after white witches, but he was suspicious by nature and he could see this being a way to draw Evalle even deeper into the Belador-Medb conflict.

  Starting for the house, Evalle said, "I bet the neighbors have no idea who lives among them."

  "I won't take that bet." Storm caught up to her and angled past the front porch. "Where'd you say Rowan left the key to the back door?" He disturbed layers of dead leaves as he headed across the front yard, but his empathic senses went haywire when they picked up a decidedly female interest focused on him.

  He spun around to face Evalle.

  She jerked her gaze up from where she'd been watching his butt. She mumbled, "What? Oh, the key. It's in a metal box stuck inside the air conditioner."

  Lifting his palms to her face, he leaned in and kissed her, then said, "I'll let you take the lead next time so I get the hot view."

  "Not if I have any say about it," she teased.

  He loved the easy way she had with him. That hadn't always been the case, and he cherished every smile and touch.

  She brushed a lock of hair off his face that had fallen loose from where he had it tied back. She sounded wistful when she said, "I really don't want to be here now."

  He gave her his wolf smile and slowly moved his hands to her shoulders. "Glad I'm not the only one ready to get naked. I'm so hard just thinking about you, I'm in pain."

  She didn't blush often, but neither would she be outdone. Her voice dropped to a sexy tone. "In case you need any more incentive, I can't wait to feel you inside me."

  Mother of mercy. "You can't do that to me unless you want to see how quickly I can get you out of those clothes."

  She laughed. The vixen.

  "Think that's funny?" He dropped his hands to her chest and brushed his thumbs over her nipples.

  Her humor fled and she moaned.

  He backed away, chuckling.

  "No fair," she accused, quick to catch up.

  "Oh, really?" He kept heading toward the back of the house. "You can say that after you said you can't wait to feel me inside you?" He sighed. "You'll be the death of me."

  She jogged past him when they reached the corner. He waited as she retrieved the key.

  Rowan had confirmed that Mattie's wards were not in place when she'd come by earlier to check out the house. Storm walked up onto the ten-foot-square back porch and, sure as hell, he didn't feel any ward. He entered through a mudroom that connected to a kitchen shrouded in shadows. Evalle stayed right with him.

  A nightlight had been plugged into a wall socket at the end of the room. With Storm's jaguar vision and Evalle's equally sharp night vision, there was no need to turn on lights.

  He lifted a photo off a mahogany drop-leaf table shoved against the wall with both leaves down. The photo was of a sweet-faced, elderly woman sitting on the chair positioned at the end of that same table. She was smiling, as though she knew he was here looking for her.

  Evalle stepped up. "Rowan left that picture for us."

  She stood still as he moved around, scenting the kitchen. When he finished, he said, "Not picking up any Noirre in here or any Medb scent. Just Rowan and Mattie's, and a few people I don't know, but I smell those unknowns on different areas of the kitchen as if they were here for coffee."

  "How did you get Mattie's?"

  "It's on Oskar."

  "Oh."

  Giving Mattie's photo a thorough look, he suggested, "Let me go through the rest of the house first to see if I pick up anything else. Why don't you see what you can find here?"

  "Sounds good."

  **~

  Evalle poked around through white cabinets filled with well-used baking pans, which sent her mind back to the witch in Hansel and Gretel. But Mother Mattie wouldn't lure kids here for anything nefarious. Not a white witch, especially one associated with--and protected by--Rowan.

  Porcelain figurines of fairies cluttered the counters and any open cranny. The windowsill above the sink held a unicorn, an unfinished clay figure that looked similar to Oskar, and a hobbit trinket.

  Mattie collected knickknacks.

  Evalle paused to look closely at another photo, but this one was inside a small gold frame. It appeared to be Mattie, around ten years younger, standing with another woman who had her head tilted down, shielding her face from the camera. Mattie had a hand on her friend's shoulder. The other woman wore a wide-brimmed, red hat that hid everything above her shoulders.

  "Who is that, Mattie?" Evalle murmured.

  The hat shifted as the woman in the photo lifted her head, revealing a beautiful face with burnished skin and exotic, diamond-blue eyes that sparkled as though struck by sunlight. In a flash, the sparkle changed to a predatory look of threat.

  Evalle pulled back, holding that gaze in spite of her mind yelling to disengage.

  The hat tilted down and the picture returned to the original static state. Evalle remembered to breathe.

  Had the movement in the photo been Fae shenanigans? Was the woman in the red hat Caron?

  With nothing else of interest in here, Evalle rubbed her arms and stepped out onto the back porch. A tall privacy fence protected the yard on three sides. Winter had shriveled the garden areas, but Evalle could imagine this place in full bloom.

  A greenhouse stood in the back left corner. No witch's garden would be complete without herbs, and Mattie must keep hers going year-round. Condensation was evident on the inside of the glass from the heat being used.

  A bright yellow object the size of a water bottle had been abandoned halfway between the porch and an oak tree that dominated the center of the open space. The more Evalle studied the yellow thing, the more it looked like a plastic toy.

  Was that Oskar's?

  Feenix dragged his stuffed alligator everywhere.

  Oskar might be more at ease with something of his while he stayed with Evalle and Storm. She took her time surveying the area. That came from years of walking streets brimming with dangerous nonhumans mixed in with the human population.

  Leaves had scattered across every surface, but just as many remained on the massive old tree.

  After a thorough visual sweep of the area, she stepped down and started across the yard. As she neared the toy, she recognized the shape as a yellow duck with a witch's hat.

  When she bent to pick it up, the toy tumbled in a roll toward the tree.

  Oh boy. Had Auntie Caron given that to Oskar so that he'd have something to chase around the yard?

  Sighing, Evalle walked under a canopy of branches and reached down.

  Energy rippled over her skin.

  She whipped upright and kinetically called up her dagger as she did. The handle slapped her palm. Nothing moved in the yard as she turned slowly to look toward the house. She waited to release the blades in her boots, which required stomping.
No sudden movements until necessary.

  She slowly looked up. Nothing in the tree.

  Three feet above her, a branch as thick as her head moved slightly. There was a light wind, but not that much.

  What was up there?

  Leaves ruffled twelve feet up.

  She waited for another move, preparing for whatever jumped out.

  Something that felt like a massive hand wrapped her neck and lifted her two feet off the ground. Kicking her feet to unbalance her attacker, she swung her dagger, stabbing blindly. When she finally hit a surface, it was as solid as the tree.

  It shook her like a ragdoll. Stars shot across her gaze.

  Don't pass out.

  She stabbed again and put kinetic power behind it, driving through some sort of shield.

  A gray arm came into view, jutting away from her neck.

  Warm liquid dripped down on her. Smelled like sewage.

  She might not kill it, but if she made it bleed, this thing would lose its glamour.

  Another invisible hand slapped at where she held her dagger embedded in the thing's flesh. If it had flesh. She couldn't get a breath to order the dagger to stay put.

  Her lungs screamed for air.

  She was losing consciousness.

  She shoved the dagger back and forth, still kicking her legs to make it as difficult as possible to hold her.

  How big was this thing?

  It made a muffled, mournful sound, and the arm trembled. She had to be cutting muscle, but it still held her tight. Using her other hand, she slapped it with a kinetic fist, banging repeatedly. Black spots flashed in her vision.

  To pass out is to die.

  It jerked her up to the first row of limbs, practically pulling her head off.

  Her heart rate leaped. She needed air. Couldn't think beyond trying to stay conscious. Adrenaline plowed through her body.

  The emerald Storm had attached to her chest with majik warmed.

  "Evalle, where are you?" Storm roared.

  The point of wearing black clothes was to meld with the darkness, but she'd trade for something white right now.

  In her peripheral vision, Storm leaped from the back porch, exploding into a huge black jaguar with fangs the size of her fingers by the time he hit the ground.

  She took back all the grief she'd given him over sticking this emerald on her.

  Storm launched into the tree, snarling, and slammed into the invisible form as it gashed his side. The smell of fresh blood hit her just as the creature jerked her around.