Alterant (Belador #2)(79)

“No. That’s the only reason I’m a little relieved to hear that Evalle was spotted with Storm. Better him than Tristan.”

A female voice whispered in Quinn’s mind, Where is Evalle? Another memory of him answering questions in the dark fought to the surface. His lungs squeezed, making the next breath painful. Had he been talking to someone about Evalle? “We have to find Evalle.”

“That’s why I called Isak,” Tzader said, not noticing the urgency behind Quinn’s statement.

“Really think Isak will tell you where she is?”

“No, but he can lead us to her. I just got word on the way here that some of his men have been sighted.”

Quinn didn’t share Tzader’s certainty over Isak Nyght. The chap was former Special Forces. He’d created a unique squad of former military special-ops soldiers he called the Nyght Raiders. A few years back he and his men had all opted out of the military, disappeared for a bit, then surfaced Stateside, searching for nonhumans.

Isak could be more threat than help to Evalle if he figured out she wasn’t human. Quinn pointed out, “Don’t you think it’s odd that Isak hasn’t realized Evalle’s not human?”

“Yes, and that worries me, because he will eventually.” Tzader put down his empty beer bottle and scratched his head. “I’m starting to think we may have to move Evalle somewhere away from here once she’s clear of this Tribunal mess. Isak is obsessed with killing Alterants after losing his best friend to one. He terminates them on sight. If he doesn’t know she’s an Alterant it’s because she’s managed to keep her bright green eyes hidden from him behind her sunglasses.”

A face smoked through Quinn’s mind.

Kizira? He hadn’t seen her in years except for a few brief times and always rife with conflict. He’d had a glimpse of her this past week when the Beladors had faced off with the Kujoo . . . and he’d seen her in O’Meary’s mind today.

But that had been a vision from the future, not a real interaction. It might not even come to pass.

Quinn swallowed, hoping his wrung-out mind was just dredging up random thoughts. “What do you want me to do?”

Tzader gave him an assessing look. “I need you healed up before you face a threat. It’s too dangerous to put you out on the street until you have full use of your kinetics.” He held up his hand when Quinn started to argue. “I saw the light flicker when you tried to turn it on. You’re nowhere close to a hundred percent, which makes you vulnerable to an attack.”

Quinn’s voice dropped to an evil level. “Oh, I’d make something pay dearly if it attacked me in my present mood.”

“But if you had to link with another Belador . . . you’d put him or her at risk.”

The truth cut through Quinn’s bravado, forcing him to think beyond his own need to strike at something. Where had that blatant aggression come from? Couldn’t have been Conlan, because, in spite of what he’d seen, Quinn still believed in the kid. Everything he’d encountered in Conlan’s mind had come from an upstanding young man and a loyal Belador.

No one should be convicted of a crime he hadn’t committed yet and certainly not based solely on a vision. Quinn said, “Agreed. I’ll call you as soon as I’m feeling top shape. Let me know the minute you locate Evalle.”

“I will.” Tzader gave him another questioning look but nodded and left.

Quinn suddenly felt unclean, as though he needed a shower.

On the way to the bathroom, a female voice whispered from deep in his subconscious. Evalle is special . . . powerful . . . she is meant for greater things.

Ice pumped through his heart.

His mind was screwing with him, because that had been Kizira’s voice.

Dismissing the voice, he stepped into the bathroom and turned the shower hot enough to boil his skin red. When he dropped his robe he noticed a scrape across his shoulder. Now that his mind was returning to normal, he realized the skin on his back felt raw.

Why was that? He twisted his neck to look over his shoulder into the mirror.

Two sets of scratches raked his shoulders, as if . . .

Impossible. Even Tzader hadn’t been able to get past Quinn’s protective ward. Quinn hadn’t been with a woman in the past two weeks.

But the scratches awoke another image in his mind with brutal clarity.

Excruciating pain and pleasure twisted in a sexual dance of erotic torture.

A woman’s body stretched out beneath him, urging him on as he drove into her mindlessly. Her body had glowed softly in his dark room. Her milky shoulders tensed before she climaxed. Her face . . . No!

Kizira couldn’t have been here.

He’d have known if she had.

He clutched his head with cold and clammy hands. When he opened his eyes his gaze caught on a thin swish of pale color against the vanity.

The bracelet made of his braided hair lay on the dark brown granite.

What had he done?

What had he allowed Kizira to do to him?

What had he told her about Evalle?

Quinn smashed his fist into the wall. Rage and betrayal roared through him.

No one was safe as long as Kizira could access his mind.

That meant one of them had to die.





TWENTY-SEVEN




Lights disappeared in the tunnel, which only sharpened Evalle’s ability to see Tristan starting to shift into his beast.