Alterant (Belador #2)(10)

Someone else would have to save the world tonight.

Turning away, she started to call Tzader when a pain-filled, high-pitched wail wrenched her attention back to the fight.

This time, she saw the smaller figure more clearly.

A woman . . . being beaten by a large man.

Evalle glanced at her watch. She had fourteen minutes.

She could pass up intel from Nightstalkers and give up time to see Tzader and Quinn, but she could not allow some monster to hurt a defenseless woman.

Not after what a man had done to her at fifteen.

Evalle took off toward the pitiful whimpers and begging of a woman under attack. Adrenaline surged through her blood at the memory that sound raised, a dangerous thing when handling humans. She’d just have to be careful when she kicked the attacker’s worthless butt, because she was not letting him harm that poor female.

Worst case, she might only lose a minute or two dealing with a human. That still wouldn’t put her late reaching the park.

Dealing with a human male would be quicker than hitting speed dial on her phone.

Calling the police, or even Tzader, would be futile. Evalle doubted this woman would survive the wait for police to arrive, and Tzader would order Evalle to leave while trying to convince her he could get here in time.

As she rounded the corner of the chain-link enclosure beneath the street-level parking deck, she passed through an open gate. A crack of flesh against flesh rocked the air when the behemoth of a man slapped the woman. He dragged her toward one of the delivery trucks.

Evalle gritted her teeth to keep from throwing a blast of kinetic power at that two-legged snake, but he’d end up in a thousand pieces if she did.

A bright spot in her day, but VIPER agents weren’t allowed to play smash-a-rama with humans.

She ran forward, wishing she could do more than knock the guy away long enough for the woman to escape. Evalle had nothing to tie him up with to leave him for the police.

Too bad she couldn’t give him a dose of her cure for jockstrap bullies. That bastard was lucky she’d sworn an oath to Macha not to use her powers to harm a human, or Evalle would hand him his head while he was still talking.

The closer she got to the altercation, the stronger the female victim’s fear reached out, begging for anyone to save her. Fisting her hands, Evalle forced calm into her voice as she closed the last fifty feet.

She called out, “Let her go and I won’t hurt you.” Much, she should have added.

The bastard laughed. “Come on, sugar. I can handle two wildcats.”

Oh, yeah? Can you handle a beast? She wished.

Twenty feet out, she slowed to a walk but kept moving forward. Could she get away with crushing his knees so he could never get to another female?

Keeping his eyes on Evalle the whole time, he swung the woman in a backhand motion against the truck. Her head bounced with a sickening crack. Knocked her out cold. He grabbed his crotch and gave Evalle a smile lacking upper teeth on one side of his mouth. “Keep coming, sugar. I’ll make you beg for it.”

Evalle fisted her hands so hard the burn of cartilage rippled along her forearms in advance of shifting into battle form. Beladors stopped changing at that point, but for her battle form was just the first step in morphing into the Alterant beast state. Can’t do that.

She had to calm down and not let him bait her.

She held all the power cards. He was just a human.

With one deep breath, she pulled her body back under control and gave him a cocky lift of her eyebrow. “No, I think I’ll make you beg for death instead.”

His kneecaps would be the first to go. That should slow him down for the police.

He continued grinning at her as if she was the idiot here. “Not the way I see it. They said I could—”

The guy’s eyes bulged and he doubled over, mouth sucking for air, then he collapsed on top of the woman.

Heart attack? Nice to have some good luck for once. She muttered, “Adios, you miserable excuse for a human.”

Now she could leave this for Tzader to handle.

Something dropped over her head and shoulders.

Everything went black. The stench of rotten limes clogged her next breath. Noirre majik.

Ambush.





FOUR




Evalle struck out at the spongy sack that covered her head and shoulders. Worming her forearms up to her chest, she pushed her hands out, shoving whatever covered her away from her body.

The sack stretched but didn’t loosen.

What was this stuff that wouldn’t rip or break?

With Noirre involved, she had the freedom to shift into battle form with some cartilage and muscle change that would allow her more strength. But as an Alterant she’d have to take care not to just keep on changing until she turned into a ten-foot beast with fangs and claws.

Nonhumans had ambushed her. Gut feeling? Medb, the Beladors’ most fierce enemy.

She called forth her Belador warrior form and clenched her fists against the pain as cartilage jutted a high ridge along her forearms and back.

Wait until this bunch got a load of what they’d caught.

Clenching her jaw, she put the brakes on any further change.

“Well, well, well,” a raspy male voice said, his words getting louder as he approached. “That cloaking spell was worth the money, wouldn’t you say, boys?”

With her senses wide open, Evalle picked up on each of the “boys” as they moved toward her, like reading incoming enemy blips on a radar screen. Her empathic ability had been inconsistent at times, evolving, but right now it kicked into high gear. She detected three emotions—one cold as a dead fish, one trying to hide his terror and one excited, lusting for a kill.