Alterant (Belador #2)(51)
SIXTEEN
Storm wanted the ability to teleport. Evalle had never been this responsive or allowed him to hold her so long. Good thing the spinning was ending and their feet touched solid ground. He couldn’t keep his body from reacting when he had her in his arms.
If he had any doubt about when she transitioned back to reality in Atlanta, Evalle cleared that up when she shouted, “Suuunnn!”
He twisted his neck to see what was behind him.
Her sensitive eyes hadn’t adjusted as quickly as his. That bright light bearing down on them was not the sun, but almost as bad. “A train!”
He shoved her up against a concrete wall seconds before a MARTA subway train barreled through the narrow tunnel just inches behind his back. The wheels clacked against the tracks in a deafening roar, and a torrent of wind sucked in behind when the last car whizzed past.
But, hallelujah, they had arrived in a dark tunnel. Underground, where the sun couldn’t harm Evalle.
Might take a few minutes to get his heart back under control, though.
He should have been prepared for landing in any location. Like broad daylight on a Friday afternoon or in the middle of a train track.
She’d distracted the hell out of him, but catching her with her guard down long enough to taste those sweet lips had been . . . damn fine.
Her hands came up between them so fast that Storm didn’t have a chance to move before she shoved hard enough to send him flying across the tracks.
His back slammed the concrete wall on the far side and he slid down. Out of fighting instinct, he landed in a crouch. He twisted his head back and forth to clear the stars in his vision and groaned.
She was damned strong when she drew on her powers.
He shook off his aches, stood up and headed back to her.
“Uh, Storm, that was sort of an accident.” She didn’t move, but she’d also taken a battle stance and had her fists cocked.
Always expecting to fight.
He kept coming at a steady pace, but he dropped his hands loose at his sides to show he was no threat.
Her wary tone switched to the angry one she pulled out whenever he made her nervous. “Served you right, though. If you didn’t want to get hurt, you shouldn’t have pinned me down.”
He could sense a lie faster than any man-made device.
She’d just told the absolute truth.
Someone had pinned her down at one time . . . and hurt her.
His jaguar roused, ready to hunt. Storm forced himself back under control, but if he ever found out who had hurt her, he would . . . what?
He knew what. That person would only live long enough to beg for her forgiveness. He had a connection to Evalle he didn’t understand beyond the fact that she was under his protection for as long as he could stay.
When he reached the other side of the tracks, he stopped in front of her, heartened to see she didn’t back away. Her pride wouldn’t allow it, but he hoped that also meant she knew he’d never harm her.
His past could hurt her, though.
The woman he hunted still presented a deadly threat to Evalle if his visions were correct. They’d never been wrong yet. He intended to keep Evalle close while he found a way to stop that bitch who had killed his father.
Lifting his hand slowly to Evalle’s face, he ignored the surge of hostility that sheared off of her. He understood defense mechanisms a person turned to for survival. Sunglasses hid her green eyes, but he’d seen the glittering jewels set in an exotic shape. Makeup had probably never touched her honey-colored skin, and she didn’t need any. Straight black hair slid along her shoulders and halfway down her back.
And don’t get him started on her soft lips.
A natural beauty, but prickly as a cactus.
Carefully placing his palm on her cheek, he barely touched her.
That took the steam out of her hostility and replaced it with a blanket of confusion. Better. He liked her to be a little out of step at times, but he hated to see that haunted look in her eyes. “Sorry I crowded you. No harm done. Besides, you can’t hurt me.”
“What are you . . . bulletproof?”
“Maybe.”
“You might be bulletproof, but are you Alterant proof?” she tossed back.
Hearing her sassy confidence back in place gave him the opening to spin her off balance again. “The only thing in question is whether I’m Evalle proof.”
Her lips parted and curiosity skittered through her eyes before she clamped her lips together.
Smiling right now would probably get him knocked back over the tracks.
He didn’t care. He grinned.
She gritted her teeth then crossed her arms, tapping her foot. Thoughts pummeled her face, shifting her eyes with something she finally accepted with a shrug. “I get it. You’re being nice to me so I’ll help you find that woman.”
His throat muscles tightened against a growl of irritation. He had used that reason to convince her he needed her help. He did have to find the Ashaninka witch doctor who’d killed his father and still possessed both Storm’s and his father’s souls. His ability to determine if someone was lying or not originated with his Ashaninka roots.
The counter side of that gift was incapacitating pain that would stroke through his whole body if he told a lie.
He’d learned to be clever about his words when stuck between telling the truth and withholding information, such as a few days ago when he’d had to report to Sen about Evalle while they’d hunted the Kujoo . . . and this morning when she’d asked about her aura.