Alterant (Belador #2)(11)
“Gotta make sure we got the right one before we hand her over,” the same guy said, the one she’d figured out had the cold soul. Must be the leader. He added, “If she’s the one, we’re set for life.”
Evalle needed the blades hidden around the soles of her boots, but she’d have to cover the noise of releasing them when she stomped her feet. She taunted her kidnappers with, “Only a coward would be unwilling to fight me fair and—”
A boot slammed her in the stomach.
She sucked air for a moment, but grunting and stepping back to keep her balance gave her the perfect cover for stomping her boots against the pavement.
Two men chuckled. One smelled of tobacco and breathed like a winded racehorse.
The web sack hugged her body to her thighs. Did they think they could contain her in a bag?
As if.
Although, technically, they had.
“Okay, boys,” the leader said. “Let’s get her out of here and collect.”
Anger fed the rippling across her arms and up her neck.
No one touched her. No one.
They’d trapped her like an animal, but none of them had the jewels to get close to her. She should just stay still and force them to move.
Crud. The Tribunal. She didn’t have time for this. She tried to call out to Tzader telepathically. The minute she sent, Tzader, I’m caught . . . her head ached with sharp stabs of pain. Her eyes watered.
Blasted Noirre majik was jamming her telepathy.
“Go get her, Tagot,” the cold one ordered.
Bunch of mercenaries without a kinetic ability among them or they wouldn’t risk coming near her.
Tagot must be the one lusting to kill her, because that’s what she picked up moving toward her with deadly intent.
Evalle focused on the movement. When he got within a couple of feet, she stepped forward quickly, then threw herself backwards, kicking her booted feet in his direction. The drag of a blade through flesh and a howl of pain told her she’d made contact. She fell all the way back and landed with her shoulders against the pavement.
Chaos broke loose with all three men yelling at each other.
She took advantage of that and used her momentum to flip on over backwards.
Landing on her feet in a crouched position, she got her hand on the dagger in her boot. This dagger came with a little extra mojo because Tzader had gotten a friend to have the blade made especially for her. It wasn’t sentient, like the two blades he carried, but this one was wicked enough to cut through a Noirre-infested sack.
Grasping the edge, she sliced the front open, snatched it off and slung the slimy thing away. The wad of rotten-smelling goo smacked a wall.
She used her kinetics to kill all lights in the area.
As her night vision took over, colors muted into shades of blue in total darkness. The three men had bright hair, maybe red, and wore dusters. Even the one screaming and writhing in pain as he tried to stop the blood from gushing out of his thigh.
She’d hit a femoral artery? Sweet.
But she still had to get that woman to safety.
With no humans present and conscious, the gloves were off. She raised her hands and shoved a kinetic blast at the men.
They stumbled back several steps, but not as far as she’d expected. The stone-cold leader with spiked hair and tats across one side of his face whipped out an evil-looking machete that sizzled with majik.
Where on earth had these mercs gotten all these majikal toys?
The Medb.
She should be able to reach Tzader now, but before she could send a telepathic message his voice yelled in her head, Get your butt over here, Evalle! What are you doing?
Got caught in an ambush. Need help. I’m over on—
Machete guy swung the blade back and forth as fast as an airplane prop. Maybe he wasn’t a stupid merc after all.
She shut off her telepathy and sent all her energy into raising an invisible shield at the moment her attacker swung a high arc.
He brought the sparking blade down fast to cut her in half.
The strike hit her force field so hard that it jarred her teeth.
She spared a glance at the other goon to make sure he wasn’t coming after her with a weapon, too. He pulled an oversized handkerchief out of his coat pocket and dropped it over the bleeding guy, who howled one time and glowed like a stoked coal in a fire, then turned to ash.
What kind of hanky was that?
Tattoo face swung again.
Her shoulders took the brunt of the constant attack from the machete. She braced one foot behind her and pushed forward, but she was losing ground.
Could he cut through her wall of power?
Tzader shouted, Can you run?
No. He’ll kill me if I drop my defense.
Where are you? Tzader said in a voice charged with fury.
Still under the parking deck at— Another barrage of blade attacks beat her backwards several feet.
Was she out of time? Would the Tribunal understand if Tzader reached Brina before the meeting and explained?
Tattoo face kept coming at her with the machete. Evalle strained to give everything she had to hold her protective wall, but he’d break through soon.
That blade had serious juice.
Power surged through the air and shocked her skin.
Light exploded, flashing against the walls of the dark buildings.
Her attacker and his buddy took one look, turned and fled.
Evalle lowered her arms, now aching from the pounding they’d taken. She drew a long, hard breath, pulling her body back into its normal form. Pain shot through her chest and legs. She had no idea how Z had found her or gotten here so quickly or what he’d done to scare off that bunch, but she was ready to hug him when she turned around.