Blood Trinity (Belador #1)(5)

Too bad they didn’t see things the way she did.

“No deal.” Tzader’s unmerciful gaze arrowed through the dark in her direction with the intensity of a lightning bolt.

“I think not as well,” Quinn concurred.

Now what was she going to do?

The stretch of curved wall on her left that ran between her and Tzader began to fade.

Evalle tensed. She had no offensive edge. Not until she either linked with the two men or was released from the shackles so that she could shift. Both options twisted her stomach into a sick knot of terror.

When the rock disappeared, leaving a hole big enough to drive a small automobile through, a diminutive Medb figure wearing a pale gray robe entered. Light glowed from inside the hood. Where were the four brutes who had hauled Tzader into this chamber?

“You shouldn’t be here.” Quinn’s soft voice was full of tender feelings.

Evalle glanced at him. Was he talking to that warlock?

The person in the robe moved toward Quinn as though floating across the floor. Evalle debated the risk of linking with Quinn and had just about talked herself into helping him when the hood fell away from the Medb’s head. Not a warlock but a stunning witch, with hair so bright it had to be the color of a flame in natural lighting.

Angling her chin at him, the witch stood a head shorter than Quinn. Without saying a word first, she lifted up on her toes and cupped his face with her hands, then kissed him sweetly on the mouth. Quinn didn’t just let her kiss him: he joined in until she finally pulled away. “When my men described the three Beladors they’d caught I didn’t want to believe what I heard. I had to see for myself. What are you doing here?”

“Protecting my tribe.” Quinn’s heavy sigh bulged with regret. “Leave before your men find you here.”

“I don’t know how to help you,” she whispered desperately.

“You can’t. If you do, they’ll kill you for treason, regardless of your being a priestess.”

“You shouldn’t have been caught in this trap,” she whispered. “They weren’t looking for you—”

“Who do they want?” Quinn’s tone sharpened.

The witch shook her head. “They’ll take you last. I’ll come up with a way to free you. I have to go.” She turned to leave.

“Kizira.”

When the witch turned around, Quinn softened his tone again. “Don’t try to save me. I’m bound to my tribe and will die with these two if they can’t also be saved.”

“Ever the fool.” She shook her head. “You should not have protected me that day.”

“I must uphold my oath of honor in all situations.”

Quinn’s reply renewed Evalle’s hope at gaining an ally in keeping secrets. If she had to shift to escape, would either of these two be willing to say she’d done so with honorable intent?

The Medb witch visiting Quinn lifted her hood back into place and started to leave, then hesitated. “Your time nears.” She vanished, and the wall was solid again.

The tight muscles in Evalle’s chest relaxed after that bizarre scene. Quinn was friends—more than friends—with a Medb priestess. Not kosher in the Belador world, but she couldn’t fault him if he’d acted out of honor and spared an enemy rather than kill without thought as their bloodthirsty ancestors had. Their goddess would respect that, but Quinn had a secret to protect as vigorously as Evalle shielded hers.

Now, if only Tzader had something to hide.

But he was a warrior who would die before exposing any vulnerability. She’d bet he hadn’t shared all his powers either.

“Want to explain that visit, Quinn?” Tzader asked.

“Sorry, chap. Rather not.”

Evalle smiled. “Maybe you should both reconsider my offer to hold each other’s confidence in order to escape.”

Quinn gave a quick shake of his head. “I won’t ask either of you to put yourself in jeopardy with Brina or Macha. Not for me.”

Damn. Damn. Damn. What was with these two? Why couldn’t they bend an inch? Evalle wouldn’t admit defeat, but winning their freedom wasn’t looking too promising either. The witch had said they were running out of time.

Quinn narrowed his eyes. “I’m roving mentally through the tunnels for a mind.”

Evalle was starting to like this guy in spite of his being cozy with a Medb. He knew his ass was in a sling if word of his association with a Medb made it to Brina, but he was still determined to help. Maybe she could trust him.

Tzader, on the other hand, had yet to get her vote.

“Got one … don’t think he’s the leader.” Quinn’s voice changed to a monotone. “He’s listening to one of the other warlocks … they can’t wait on the spell to drain the Beladors … Kizira arguing they should wait … Beladors dangerous even one at a time … leader says …” Quinn’s head jerked back. His shocked eyes swung toward her. “You’re the one they want, Evalle, and you don’t want to know what they plan to do to you.”

“Bring it,” she said with more arrogance than she felt capable of backing at the moment.

Quinn’s eyebrows tightened, his eyes staring at nothing as he concentrated. He sucked in a breath. “I hope you can take on four warlocks alone, because that’s what’s coming for you … Right now.”