Alterant (Belador #2)(53)

“Four Alterants now that Tristan is free.”

“He might not make it back to a cage,” Storm added darkly.

She cut eyes loaded with warning at him. “He’s the only one who knows where the other three are hiding. You can’t kill him.”

Yet. Storm nodded his understanding, not his agreement.

He held Tristan responsible for the trouble Evalle was in with the Tribunal. Tristan clearly intended to use what she’d shared about her chance for freedom to cut his own deal with the Tribunal. Tristan should have thought about his future when he’d teamed up with the Kujoo.

Storm tracked Tristan’s scent up and down the tunnels. After a while he started thinking Tristan had taken precautions in case Evalle had found a way to follow his teleporting. By late afternoon Storm was sure of it. He literally hit a wall in tracking, a concrete one where Tristan’s trail ended, meaning he’d likely teleported away or to the other side.

Why had he spent the time leading them on a chase? Why hadn’t Tristan just teleported again in case he could have lost her at some point?

“That’s it for his scent,” Storm announced. “What do you want to do?”

She brushed loose hairs off her face with an absentminded move. Her sunglasses hid any signs of exhaustion in her eyes, but no matter how often he’d adjusted his speed for her, she’d limped and lagged behind most of the last hour.

She finally admitted, “I’m beat and hungry.”

“There’s a service exit up ahead. The last two we passed were locked. Think you can open that one?”

She gave him a sly arch of her eyebrow. “I’m insulted you have to ask.”

At the exit door, she raised her hands and moved her fingers in the air. A click on the inside of the door sounded, then the door swung open to expose a long hallway.

He followed her inside, noting how she closed and locked the door kinetically without even turning around. After passing through another door, they mingled with a crowd headed toward the wide concrete stairs that led to street level.

Putting his hand out, he stopped her, pretty sure he’d heard an encouraging sound upstairs. “Give me a minute.”

“For what?”

“To see what the weather looks like up there. The sun hasn’t set yet.”

“Oh, that’s right. My body clock is way off.”

He ran up the steps, glad to see dark clouds to go along with the thunder he’d heard rumbling. Hurrying back down, he snagged her arm. “We’re good. Bad weather coming.”

“I feel guilty about being glad when it’s going to make traffic worse,” Evalle said. Her torn jeans received several double looks before being dismissed with pity reserved for the destitute.

Once he reached the sidewalk along Peachtree Street in downtown Atlanta, he casually offered, “We could go to Six Feet Under for a quick bite, and you can crash at my place if you don’t want to run into Tzader or Quinn.”

The hard part of having Evalle that close would be not touching her, but he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe.

She stepped out of the foot traffic and turned to him with suspicion riding the frown on her face. “Did someone tell you Six Feet Under is my favorite restaurant?”

“I had an idea it might be one of your favorites.”

“How?”

“When we were searching Piedmont Park for the Ngak Stone, I asked Quinn for a place to eat. He said you and Tzader liked that restaurant, which means—now that I think about it—you being out in the open isn’t a wise idea. We could go somewhere else like . . . my apartment. I could order something delivered.”

She chuckled. “Your apartment? Right. No. I need to stay out of sight, and I’ve got to head home for a bit.”

He didn’t like the idea of her being alone for even a few hours. Not that he’d expected her to say yes to going home with him, but it had been worth a try. “Why don’t you let me grab some food and meet you at your place?”

“Let me think about that?” She tapped a finger against her cheek and looked up, mocking him. “Uh, no.” She checked her watch. “Can you meet me in three hours back where we teleported? Inside the North Avenue Station?”

“Sure, but you look like you need more rest than that.”

“You know what they say about getting all the sleep you need when you’re dead. If I don’t find Tristan soon I’m guaranteed plenty of rest,” she said around a yawn. “And don’t say anything to Tzader or Quinn about me being here or what I’m doing, okay? The Tribunal said I couldn’t ask anyone from VIPER for help. I’m hoping they won’t construe your help in any way to get you in a jam, but I didn’t ask and I couldn’t stop you.”

She had that right. “I understand.” His cell phone had been vibrating since he’d returned. If he answered any of the calls, he’d either have to abandon her or lie to the caller.

He’d just as soon not inflict pain on himself by lying, and he had no intention of leaving her.

Before she turned to go, Storm stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. When she didn’t react to his touch, he lowered his head as though he had something to tell her and whispered, “Sweet dreams,” right before he kissed her.

Her muscles beneath his fingers tensed until his lips touched hers, then she actually moved into his kiss.