Alterant (Belador #2)(102)

“I’m paying very close attention, but what about Brina? Saving her comes first.” Evalle nodded to double stamp her words. Hope and reservation struggled for equal space in her heart.

“Brina will be freed once this clears the Tribunal.”

Evalle had learned hard lessons about the devious ways of gods and goddesses, which spurred her to pin Macha down more precisely. “I have the feeling what you’re talking about involves me doing something, but I’m not going to be a lot of help in this cell.”

“Tzader led me to believe you were bright. Did you think I came here to exchange fashion tips?” Macha sniffed at Evalle’s ragged clothes.

Didn’t get a chance to pack for this trip.

“Once I open the charter for a new race with the Tribunal, that decision supersedes their judgment, as you will then become responsible solely to me and my laws.”

There was a loophole in Tribunal rulings?

Macha angled her head and pursed her lips as though she’d heard that thought. Then she continued, “I am designating you as my coordinator for this undertaking with the Alterants. You will be released under my custody and responsible to me while the Alterant race status is being documented. You will continue to serve as a Belador agent for VIPER and will be protected from anyone in the VIPER alliance harming you.”

Did that mean Sen couldn’t screw with her again?

Part of Evalle wanted to demand that Macha show her where to sign on the dotted line, but another part—the one tired of being used as a pawn in everyone’s personal games—had her hesitating to jump up and shout.

Macha said, “If you need some time to think about it, go ahead. You have the rest of your life to ponder while I’m gone.” She lifted her hands.

Evalle feared she would teleport away. “Wait. Please.”

“Does that mean you’ve come to a decision?”

Deals with a god or goddess were irrevocable. Evalle didn’t want to lose this chance or spend the rest of her life away from all that mattered to her—Tzader, Quinn, Grady, Nicole . . .

What about Storm? No one would search for the truth behind his disappearance if she didn’t.

Feenix’s face swam through her mind, sealing the decision.

Evalle would face much worse than the fine print in a goddess’s contract to hold Feenix again. “I’ll do it.”

“Big surprise,” Macha said under her breath, then went on instructing her. “Do not speak of this to anyone, and do not fail me, Evalle. Brina is far more forgiving than I am.”

Macha lifted her hands in a swoosh of movement, vanishing.

End of meeting.

What now?

Evalle would like to think she’d just gotten a reprieve, but she had a strange feeling that she might have only stuck both feet into quicksand.

Once Macha departed, Evalle paid attention to her empathic senses, which had been busy deciphering the meeting. She fingered what had been nudging her to take notice at the very end.

Macha had given off a potent emotion. Exhilaration.

Why had she been so excited over this agreement?

Or had all this been nothing more than a cruel way to punish Evalle for getting Brina into trouble by coming in here to offer Evalle what she most wanted?

Then disappearing and never coming back.

Honor might be a lonely cellmate, but hope was a vicious mistress that would kill her over and over every minute she believed she would be freed.

“Faith is not a learned skill . . . but the blossom on the vine of hope,” the soft female voice whispered in the silent room.

Evalle asked, “Why won’t you tell me who you are?”

No one answered.





THIRTY-SEVEN




We need to talk, Tristan.

The telepathic contact broke Tristan’s concentrating on where to take his band of Alterants tomorrow. After facing off with that black-ops group and walking away from Evalle, he had no doubt Tzader Burke would unleash the fury of the Beladors on him.

Tristan’s only regret in all of this was leaving Evalle to face the Tribunal. When the black-ops team had burst on the scene, all Tristan had been able to think was that she had betrayed him.

In hindsight, he began to have his doubts.

At least he’d taught her how to survive in whatever place the Tribunal would send her so she wouldn’t die of an animal attack or snakebite.

You need my help, the male voice said again.

Really? Tristan leaned back in the hotel room office chair and looked out the glass at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. What makes you think I need anyone’s help?

Because you’re on the run from the Beladors and VIPER. I can offer you refuge.

If you’re speaking to me telepathically, then you’re one of the Beladors.

Yes, I am. Or at least I was until they decided to treat me like a criminal. You can’t run far enough to protect your sister.

Tristan’s eyes shot to the second bed in the room where Petrina slept. Exhausted, but safe. He relaxed back into the chair. If I believe what you say, then the Beladors are after you, too.

True. There’s only one place safe enough to hide, and I’m in that spot with full protection.

That sounded tempting. Tristan had his doubts about his ability to keep Petrina and the other two Alterants safe. He couldn’t link with Webster and Aaron in a fight, and he didn’t want Petrina in a risky situation.