Blood Trinity (Belador #1)(25)
She scowled at that. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in a meeting without him. “What about Sen’s powwow?”
“I already told him that I’m tracking a lead on Noirre. I could stay, but I’ve got a window of time for finding someone.” He put emphasis on “someone,” clueing her in that Tzader meant his informant.
Ah, that made sense.
Far more lethal than black majik, Noirre majik was the most ancient of all and thought to be practiced only by a few covens. The Medb being one of them.
She put her towel down. “I got you. Is Quinn privy to this mission today?”
Tzader stepped close and lowered his voice. “Yes, which reminds me of something. Keep your head down in this meeting. And you better get going. You’re about to be late.”
“Don’t worry. I’d hate to cause Sen to stroke. Then again …” Wrinkling her nose at him, Evalle grabbed a bottle of water from the nylon MotoFizz bag strapped to the back of her seat. “So why should I keep my head down? What are you worried about?”
“You. Sen said Trey would fill me in later, as if he thought I wouldn’t hear about it from you. That makes me nervous.”
Yeah, her too. She didn’t like the sound of that at all, but she dismissed it. “I’m sure Sen was just pointing out that Trey is available any time, not just at night. Like everyone else, he finds me lacking. Thinks I’m only good for intel and grunt work, nothing more.”
“Not everyone thinks of you that way.”
“I know you and Quinn don’t.” The rest of them …
She might as well be called Fido.
“Brina considers you a valuable member of our tribe.”
Yeah, right. Evalle groaned silently. Replying to that honestly would only open a debate neither of them would win. Holding Tzader and Quinn’s respect mattered more than being shunned by Brina. Evalle pulled her shoulders back and tried to sound at ease over Tzader leaving when she couldn’t entirely dismiss his concern.
He was intuitive when it came to others.
“Don’t worry, Z, I’ll be fine.”
“If not, have Trey get word to me.”
She hated that, but she wouldn’t be able to reach Tzader herself once he left. No one could break through this fortress telepathically. That always left her with a sense of unease whenever she had to come up here.
Inside mountains no one could hear you scream …
Cue the scary music.
“You’re down to two minutes. Don’t be late.” Tzader stepped away from her and raised his voice. “I’m ready to leave, Sen. Don’t forget my truck.”
By the time Evalle chugged the last of her water, Tzader had vanished. Teleported by Sen. The only thing worse than riding through the sun in full gear was teleporting. Sen had done it to her once and she’d thrown up on him when she’d arrived.
Might be one reason he didn’t like her. But it’d been a great day for her. Not often she got the last word where Sen was concerned.
She kicked off her boots and slipped on a pair of sandals before heading to the war room. The temperature this deep within the mountain was even cooler than back at the entrance. The upside of being in damp clothes was the quick chill that slid over her skin.
Reaching the war room with a minute to spare, she scoped the team assembled so far. Three men lounged around the room, all positioned to face the door with their backs to a wall. The only other Belador present was Trey McCree. He’d stretched out on a leather sofa the color of sand. Since he lived in the Atlanta area like her, he couldn’t be much happier about the run up here than she was.
On the other side of the room, in a wood-and-black-leather antigravity chair, a cowboy sprawled with a nonchalance she was sure he didn’t feel. Reece “Casper” Jordan. He’d been with VIPER for over six years and hailed from Texas—thus the bone-white Stetson hat covering his face and the snakeskin boots he always wore. His personal bane was sharing his body with a thirteenth-century ghost.
Little was known about the third guy in the room, a dark Castilian who leaned one shoulder against the rock wall. Lucien Solis. His name might mean “light,” but he was as dark as sin. No matter where he was, he studied everyone like they were test specimens he’d like to pin to a board and dissect.
“Mornin’ sunshine.” Casper grinned at her, shoving his hat up on his head as he moved the chair upright. “How do you see with those things on?” He indicated the almost opaque sunglasses she wore all the time. “Hell, I walk into stuff all the time and I can see.”
“Sunshine?” Evalle smiled at his dig at her nocturnal life. “Think I heard there were thunderstorms in the forecast for today.”
Casper grimaced. “Not funny.” After being struck by lightning during a visit to Scotland ten years ago, Casper sometimes morphed into the reincarnation of a Highland warrior who’d lived in 1260.
He’d hated storms ever since.
But honestly, she liked him a lot. Unlike most of the operatives, Casper held no allegiance to any deity or clan—only to VIPER.
Having finished off the first bottle of water, Evalle lifted a new one from an aluminum tub against the wall that was perpetually filled with bottled water, iced tea and cold drinks for them.
She settled on a second leather sofa near the entrance.