Blood Trinity (Belador #1)(78)

“How’d you get involved?”

“One of the teens he was after is a street kid, a male witch I don’t want to see end up as a demon Snackable. The other one is the sister of a demigod. But here’s the odd thing. When I stopped Vyan from taking them, I had the weirdest feeling he was glad I kept the kids out of his hands.” That empathic ability she’d been sensing might have given her that insight now that she thought about it.

Striding at a comfortable pace, Storm shook his head. “That makes no sense.”

“Tell me about it, and Vyan actually told me to read them the fairy tale about Hansel and Gretel. Like he was trying to let me know a witch was planning to use them for a blood sacrifice, which fits with Noirre majik. And here’s the other surprise—he didn’t at least try to battle me.”

“I thought Trey said this Vyan was allowed to walk away free if he didn’t battle a Belador.”

“Few people consider me a true Belador, so that shouldn’t have stopped him. I doubt Shiva would hold him to that agreement when it came to an Alterant.”

Storm had reached the steps leading down a ten-foot drop to the south end of the park when he paused and studied her. His eyes logged some thought he didn’t share before turning to take the steps two at a time.

She wished she had Trey’s exceptional ability to read anyone’s thoughts. He was one of the strongest telepaths among the Beladors. Storm would probably catch her snooping around in his mind if she were bold enough to try. She’d love to know just what was going on beneath all that black hair, what gave his coal-black eyes both a contemplative and a hungry look at the same time.

The rain picked up from a bare drizzle to a light shower, running even the most die-hard dog owners from the park. Evalle started to chide Storm over not even bringing a hat to block the rain from his eyes when she caught a movement on her left about fifty feet away.

“What the heck is that?” she mumbled to herself.

Storm turned to follow her line of sight.

The figure of a distorted old man limped through a wide space between two tall pine trees. The man’s body flickered in and out of view as though he couldn’t hold a shape of any kind.

Evalle took a couple of steps. Her boot scuff must have spooked the thing. He lifted off the ground, floating around with his head and shoulders solid.

His eyes were demon red. Sharp teeth came into view when his lips pulled back in a snaggletoothed snarl.

She spoke softly to Storm. “He looks like a Nightstalker I’ve done business with.” Thankfully, it wasn’t Grady.

“Thought they were harmless ghouls.”

“They are. Something has happened to that one.”

The ghoul flew toward them.

Evalle lifted her open palms shoulder high and shoved outward, tossing a short blast of power that knocked the ghoul backward.

The thing howled, but the sound had no volume. He jerked and shook, looking around with crazed eyes. When his body dropped to the ground still half formed, he turned and ran away faster than she’d expected.

She watched where the ghoul entered the woods. “I have to find out what happened to him. Somebody shook hands with that ghoul too long or put a spell on him when they shook or … I have no idea what they did, but he can’t run loose. He looks dangerous. I’ll check it out.”

“No.”

“One of us has to catch him before he hurts a human, and we both know Sen doesn’t want you to leave me alone with the Ngak Stone.”

Storm gave her one of his studied looks. “Would you pick up the stone if you found it?”

“No. I’d call Tzader.”

“I believe you. You’ve seen the stone and I haven’t, which means it makes more sense for you to walk the south end of the park and see what you can find out. I’ll track down the ghoul. If you find the stone before I get back, we’re out of here early.” He swept a quick glance around them, then his eyes came back to her. “Close your mouth unless you’re trying to catch rainwater.”

She was speechless. Was he really leaving her alone to hunt for the rock? She had no quick comeback, which didn’t matter since she was staring at his back as he vanished into the thick woods. Swinging around, she headed across the huge expanse of grassed area where people came to hang out and play during daylight.

Not right now, though, on a weekday night with the steady rain churning dense humidity.

She turned toward the creek where the Ngak Stone had been lost two years ago. To the right of the footbridge crossing the creek was another stretch of open space that butted up to Tenth Street. Not a soul in sight, human or otherwise.

A dog barked.

Evalle stopped and searched through the drizzle where the streetlights couldn’t reach.

A young woman in a poncho was squatted next to the footbridge, searching the bank of the creek for something. She stood up and gave a little tug on the leash for her mutt, who danced around her feet. “I see you, Brutus, yes, I do.”

Human. Not a concern.

Evalle had decided to ignore the young woman when a flush of energy swept the air around her face. She searched the night and found the culprit.

Vyan, the Kujoo, emerged out of the blackness and approached the woman. He asked, “May I speak to you?”

The young woman froze with one hand clenching her dog’s tether and the other hand stuffed in the pocket of her parka—holding pepper spray? “No. Please don’t come any closer.”