Alterant (Belador #2)(54)

Damn, he loved the feel of her in his arms.

He wanted her thinking about him when she closed her eyes.

When she didn’t pull back, he let the kiss go a few seconds longer than he’d originally intended, but he could spend hours tasting her. She softened, fitting against his chest. Feeling her slowly open up to him was addictive, but the longer he let this go, the harder it would be to let her go.

Through sheer willpower, he lifted his head.

Her lips were still parted, as if she was not quite ready to end the kiss. Hell, he wasn’t finished either, but another minute so close to her and he wouldn’t be able to walk without limping.

He pulled his hands back. “Better get going. See you in three hours.”

“Right. See you.” She blinked, glancing around as if worried someone from VIPER or the Beladors might recognize her, then took off down Peachtree Street.

Following Evalle could be tricky.

Storm allowed her a head start so she wouldn’t notice he was tailing her. He kept her in sight for a mile and a half while she wove her way to Marietta Street via cut throughs.

She headed straight to where he’d seen her emerge from that abandoned building this morning.

He’d bet she lived there belowground.

The tang of sulfur kept invading his nose everywhere he walked, but he had a jaguar’s sharp sense of smell that could pick up scents from far off at times. Sirens wailed in the distance. Now that he thought about it, he’d been hearing those for a while, too. Could there have been a huge tanker spill of something sulfuric on the interstate?

He stopped at the corner, since Evalle would be alerted to his presence if he followed her to within the last quarter mile to her apartment. She was as safe as she could be for the next three hours. He headed back into the city.

Evalle needed more help locating Tristan than Storm could offer. She might not be able to ask anyone, but he could. A witch would be his first choice for scrying where Tristan, and possibly an Ashaninka witch doctor, might be hiding in the city.

Evalle would be upset if he involved Nicole.

And Nicole was a white witch anyhow.

To fight fire with fire, he needed someone from the dark side. VIPER had brought in a Sterling witch named Adrianna to help locate the Ngak Stone before the Kujoo.

Of course, Evalle didn’t like Adrianna, especially when the witch openly flirted with any VIPER agent. Storm had no sexual interest in Adrianna, but he could use her skills . . . depending on what she’d want in trade.

And he hadn’t promised Evalle he wouldn’t hunt Tristan on his own while she rested.

As for the Ashaninka witch doctor, better that he found her before the witch doctor found Evalle.





SEVENTEEN




Thunderstorms were building outside the conference room, where a different kind of tension vibrated inside these walls.

Quinn used his kinetics to dim the lights in the boardroom and to draw the blinds tight. He wanted no distractions once he started probing Conlan’s mind.

Tzader had been stalking the room, checking the door locks and practically rattling the walls with his anger until Quinn sent him a telepathic message to chill out. He’d reminded Tzader that the entire floor had been secured. In buildings scattered across this country, as well as several others, Quinn maintained a perpetually vacant floor at specific locations, such as this one.

An area available only via keyed elevator access explicitly for Belador use.

Having withdrawn to a corner, Tzader became as still as a stone, if one could image a stone blazing with energy.

Perspiration danced across Quinn’s forehead, a rare reaction for him, to be sure. Did he want to tamper with the mind of someone he considered innocent? No, but Tzader had returned from his meeting with Brina looking kicked in the proverbial nuts. Something had gone terribly wrong. If it took a mind search to appease her demand for action, then Quinn would do this for his friend and his warrior queen.

“I’m ready,” Conlan said quietly, as though intercepting Quinn’s reluctance. He sat on a plush office chair with his eyes shut and his back to Quinn, who stood above him.

Conlan’s next breath came out hard and shuddering.

Time was wasting.

The sooner this was done, the sooner they could find Evalle before she walked into a fog and shifted. Even if she controlled her beast not to kill, someone would kill her.

Quinn spoke in a hypnotic tone. “Focus on wherever you go to find peace and this will be easier for you.” Then he laid his hands on Conlan’s head and closed his eyes. Touching wasn’t necessary to tap a mind, but touch enhanced his ability to delve into the subconscious more quickly.

And possibly with less disruption to Conlan’s brain.

When Quinn began to roam the young man’s mind, he felt his way past areas that were like doors he could open and see into—past and present.

Quinn usually avoided anything in the future because the future didn’t come fully formed the way current or past events were revealed. The future held unknown elements, and knowledge gained from those excursions could change events.

Not always for the best.

If he found something to prove Conlan’s innocence, Quinn would be spared having to find a link to Larsen O’Meary’s spirit. Perhaps the good news was that if O’Meary had truly died, there would still be a link between father and son because both were Beladors.