Alterant (Belador #2)(105)
Feenix said, “Mine.”
Her heart was sandwiched between misery and joy. “You’re mine, too, baby.”
Her gargoyle lifted his head and chortled with delight. “Mith me?”
“More than you’ll ever know.” She gave him a kiss on his scaly forehead and lowered him to the floor. “Let me grab a shower and we’ll watch reruns.”
Anything that felt normal.
The shower helped, and so did fresh clothes. She put Storm’s windbreaker back on before climbing into bed with a bowl of popcorn for her and a handful of lug nuts for Feenix.
Feenix puttered around the room, flapping his wings every time he reached the count of ten. He even counted in order, ending with nine and then ten once she explained he could count either horn as nine or ten.
She opened her laptop and booted up her email. The minute she started tapping on keys, Feenix flapped his wings rapidly, lifting up in the air.
He flew over the end of the bed and settled next to her, where he’d left his pet alligator earlier. “Nathcar!” He gave her a toothy smile worth any deal she’d had to make with Macha.
She tweaked his toe and got the deepest giggling sound she’d ever heard. “We’ll watch the NASCAR rerun as soon as I finish a couple emails. Okay?”
He clapped his hands. “Ithe cream.”
That counted as yes from Feenix.
Turning back to her laptop, she scanned through the usual notices from VIPER before she found the ones that mattered. Her email service was protected by some uber-security operation run through www.Beladors.com, which meant no spam. She opened the first one from Quinn that had come in yesterday:
The morgue believes you are on a leave of
absence. You may return at your leisure.
She hated that her first thought was to question if he had done that out of his usual sincere concern for her . . . or out of guilt if he really did talk to Kizira about her. She could use a couple days to sort things out in her head.
She needed some Feenix time.
When Tzader had contacted her telepathically on her way home, he’d told her to check her email for a message from him, which they’d discuss tomorrow after she got some rest. She found Tzader’s email that said:
Quinn encountered a threat to Brina during
Conlan O’Meary’s mind probe so we took him
into temporary custody. Conlan disappeared
from the holding facility. Contact me immediately
if you hear from O’Meary. Don’t meet him
under any circumstances without me or Quinn
present. We need to talk first.
What had Quinn seen in O’Meary’s mind that would make Tzader think O’Meary would contact her?
Quinn had sent a more recent email:
I am exceptionally pleased you have returned
unharmed. We’ll speak soon.
How could something a crazy witch said change the way Evalle thought about one of her two closest friends?
It shouldn’t. It wouldn’t.
She refused to feel suspicious about Quinn. He’d earned her trust and had yet to give her reason to question it. She’d tell him what Kizira had said and he’d explain how there was no way possible for Kizira to have gotten that information from him.
She stared at her inbox, willing an email from Storm to be waiting for her.
None.
Feenix rubbed her arm.
She smiled over at him, but his eyes were sad. He put his head on her shoulder.
Did this little guy have empathic ability?
Or could he hear her heart cracking with a new fracture every minute she didn’t hear from Storm?
She patted his face. “We’ll watch NASCAR next.”
He grinned at her and plopped down on the pillow beside her, grabbing his stuffed alligator to hug.
Starting tomorrow, she had to take care of Alterant business. Macha had handed her the chance to prove Alterants should be a recognized race. Evalle would tell Tristan as soon as she found him. She doubted he’d make it out of this country, since the airport really was shut down after all. He should be more open to working with her once he found out she had Macha backing.
Life was good.
All she had to do was find Tristan and Storm.
She turned back to her computer to send Storm an email and a new one popped into her inbox—from Storm. She froze, staring at the blinking message, then clicked on it. The message had been sent from his cell phone several hours ago. She hadn’t seen any of his clothes when she’d gone back to search after being dropped at her bike, but now realized she hadn’t seen his cell phone when she’d unloaded her tank bag. Had Storm retrieved his things . . . or had someone else?
Her heart thumped like crazy. She opened the email and read:
Evalle
I’ll be in touch.
Storm.
Building a unique world with rich details often requires using unusual names and terms. These are sometimes fictional as well as being drawn from actual mythology.
Below is a list of pronunciations.
Asháninka
[ash – AH – neen – kah]
Batuk
[bah – TOOK]
Belador
[BELL – ah – door]
Birnn demon
[beern demon]
Cú Chulainn
[KOO-ku-lin]