Blood Trinity (Belador #1)(33)
“Will the Ngak Stone choose Vyan again?”
The squirt of noise from Ekkbar’s lips conveyed his disgust for Vyan, no doubt because the warrior had outwitted the magician the last time a portal had opened. “I believe the stone chose Vyan only for his two hands that carried the stone out of here, not to be a master, or the stone would have remained within his grasp. The stone has always chosen a powerful being, but this time it waits for a woman.”
“The witch?” Batuk ground his fists against the arms of his chair. Snake eyes glowed with life.
“No, no, my lord. The witch does not want to touch the stone. She claims it carries majik that will fight hers. And she warns that if you or any of your men touch the stone when you arrive in Atlanta, the Beladors will know that you are in their world before you have the chance to use the rock. She tells me she has seen this in a scrying bowl.”
“If neither I nor my men can touch the stone, how will it serve me to be at the mercy of Beladors, who will outnumber our ten?”
“The witch has a plan, yes, she has a plan.” Ekkbar’s kneeling body floated up with his excitement. “Once she brings you and your men out, she will tell you how to find a being who can gain the Ngak Stone for you.”
“What is this being who will help us?”
“An Alterant.”
Batuk scowled at the unfamiliar term. “A what?”
“Someone who is born part Belador …” Ekkbar lifted his hands palms out as he waited on Batuk’s snarling to quiet. “And part unknown. Yes, this being has the blood of your enemy but is shunned by the Beladors.”
“I trust no Beladors!”
“This is not a true Belador but one who is considered a lowly mongrel, a castoff their tribe holds in low respect. Alterants change into dangerous beasts and have killed Beladors.”
Batuk sat back in his throne, scratching his beard. “A Belador beast that kills its own tribe? I have not heard of this.”
If a shriveled-up male could preen, the foolish magician did just such. “I am most pleased to bring you good news. Most pleased.”
“What does this witch want in return?” Batuk began to believe this hairless blight on his existence might actually have found a way out of Shiva’s curse.
“After you have gained what you most desire, the witch says you may take the Ngak Stone and do as you please if you give her the Alterant to do with as she pleases.”
That was it? He could keep the most powerful stone in creation and all the witch wanted was this Alterant?
Batuk hesitated. When something seems too easy, it always is. No one would give up the stone for something so petty. Not without good reason.
But that being said, they could deal with the witch and the Alterant once they escaped and had the stone. Then the world would bow and tremble before them. Their wrath would be legendary.
“Tell the witch she has a bargain.”
SEVEN
Storm slowed his 1979 FJ-40 Land Cruiser to a crawl. Not by choice. He doubted anyone else caught in this gnarled I-75 traffic slowed down by choice either.
At least he had sweet-smelling scenery inside his cab.
He shifted his gaze sideways to where Evalle Kincaid leaned her head and shoulder against the passenger door.
As soon as they’d left the war room, she’d told him how tired she was. He didn’t doubt her exhaustion—she had the bags under her eyes to prove it. That’s why he’d allowed her to bail on him after she’d executed an exaggerated yawn on the way to his truck and asked if he minded her taking a quick nap.
Avoidance would only work for so long, but he’d agreed.
Evalle had hugged her body as tight as she’d been able against the passenger door, acting as if she rested. But the muscles in her folded arms had been tense and her shoulders had curved inward defensively.
Nobody that tight would have been able to sleep no matter their exhaustion.
He was a hunter, a patient man who could wait out skittish prey, so he’d murmured a few words asking the spirits to ease her soul and allow her to rest.
Within minutes of their leaving VIPER’s HQ, Evalle had relaxed into a boneless heap. He’d slipped off her sunglasses, since the interior was so dark with Sen’s protective warding that the dash lights were on even though it was midafternoon outside. Sen hadn’t warded the truck from the sun or stuck the motorcycle trailer on the back with her crotch rocket as any favor to Evalle. He’d wanted to force her into an uncomfortable situation for two hours.
Sen hadn’t said he was gunning for Evalle, but even the blind could see he had a private agenda when it came to her.
Storm understood private agendas. He had one as well and would fulfill his agreement with Sen, but on his own terms.
Which was why he’d helped Evalle sleep almost the entire drive. She shifted, her black Gore-Tex riding clothes shushing against his vinyl seats. The movement stirred her scent around the cab. She had an earthy smell, something that piqued his interest in a way Adrianna-the-sex-toy-witch hadn’t. With all the lacy trimmings on the outside, Adrianna blew cold as an arctic winter on the inside.
Took more than window dressing to make a woman desirable.
He liked his women with fire under the surface. Evalle might project a chilly fa?ade, but she had a core of heat he’d bet would burst into an inferno with a little encouragement.