Blood Trinity (Belador #1)(24)



Sen appeared at Tzader’s side and lifted his hand, flexing his fingers at the entrance forty feet away.

Rock disintegrated.

The whine of a high-powered engine screamed ahead of the motorcycle that pierced the dense fog hanging in place of the rocks.

Evalle came in like the Ghost Rider hell-bent for his contract holder. The front tire squealed when she engaged the brakes, laying a strip of rubber across the hard rock floor. The rear tire lifted off the ground, rising chest high, while the bike skidded the last fifteen feet, then stopped eight feet in front of Tzader. It swung around and slammed down on the rear tire in a one-eighty Enduro finish, complete with the side stand down.

Evalle ripped off her full-face helmet and pitched it at Tzader like a sideways pass. He caught it without hesitation. She shoved a pair of dark sunglasses on her face, hiding her scary luminescent green eyes. But the glasses did nothing to conceal her fury, which pulsed through the room in sonic waves.

She snarled in Jake and Sen’s direction. “Which one of you bastards was trying to kill me?”

Jake went rigid. “Let’s not get into questioning each other’s parentage, shall we? After all, you’re the one with a faulty bloodline.”

Tzader cringed at what had to be the most blatant act of suicide he’d seen in awhile. Even a troll should know the limits of his stupidity.

But obviously Jake had flunked Survival 101.

Wet strands of black hair clung to Evalle’s neck and face where the Georgia heat had boiled her inside that insulated black suit she was forced to wear to keep the sun from searing her skin.

“Alterant,” Sen warned softly when she slammed a boot to the ground and stepped off the bike.

She pinned him with an acid-lined glare and a curled lip. “Don’t ‘Alterant’ me.” Tzader could swear he heard a “you prick” in that tone. “What took so long to open the wall?” She stormed across the twenty-foot space between her and Sen.

“Alterant,” Sen cautioned again.

Jake swallowed hard. “We’re evaluating a new door system and it’s got a flaw … or two.”

“Of course it does. One conveniently programmed to only act up when I’m coming in during daylight hours.” Evalle stopped inches from Jake. Standing almost six feet tall in her riding boots, she stared down the guard, whose snarly attitude waned.

He shrank under her blistering glare and flinched when she lifted her hand.

She pointed her index finger at him. “You ever hesitate to open the wall for me again when I’m treading daylight and I’ll rip off your balls and wear them for earrings.” She turned away, taking wide steps on those toned legs.

It was all Tzader could do not to smile. But he couldn’t fault her for her anger. They’d come close to ending her days, and if anyone had a right to be pissed, it was definitely her.

“Like this was my idea,” Jake mumbled.

She strode to her bike. “What lazy moron thought hydraulic doors were a good idea when there’s enough psychic juice in here at any given time to move an entire mountain?”

Sen cleared his throat and narrowed a deadly look at her. “I would be the moron who came up with that idea since I’m the one stuck opening it most of the time. Not like I have better things to do than play butler to VIPER.” His nostrils flared. “Good thing for you I was here so promptly, but don’t rush to thank me.”

She lifted a shoulder with indifference. “You the same person I should thank for hauling my ass in here during daylight?”

The look he gave her said it all. I don’t answer to you and you better remember that … bitch. “Get to the war room.” Sen vanished.

Evalle curled her lip at his departure, then smoothed out her expression as she looked at Tzader. “Thanks for getting the door open, Z.”

He inclined his head to her. “Don’t thank me too soon. I just didn’t have time to waste picking out caskets today. And speaking of your blatant death wish … could you stop antagonizing Sen?”

“Why would I ever want to do that? I’ve had no sleep in two days and he calls a red alert, knowing I’ll cook all the way here.” While Evalle kept protective motorcycle gear on her bike, it was black to help her blend in with the night, which was when she was out and about. Not the coolest color to wear in full sun. And she couldn’t ventilate it, because any bit of daylight on her skin bubbled it.

Unzipping her black jacket, she discarded the suffocating outer layer, leaving on her soaked BDU shirt and damp jeans. “So what crawled up Sen’s ass and died?”

“I don’t know. I saw Trey and Lucien here, but I haven’t been to the war room yet.”

Digging a towel out of her tank bag, she wished she could trust talking to Tzader in this place—even telepathically—but he wouldn’t want to risk Sen overhearing anything they discussed.

She whispered low to Tzader. “We need to talk …”

“Find something?” Tzader leaned heavily on the last syllable. He meant the second Cresyl she’d been hunting.

“Sort of.” She looked over at Jake, who acted as though he wasn’t tuning in to every word, but she knew better. One of his jobs was to spy for Sen. “Not here.”

Tzader nodded. “I’ll swing by your place tonight, but I’ve got to leave right now.”

Sherrilyn Kenyon & D's Books