Blood Trinity (Belador #1)(8)

Could an Alterant linked to a Belador not die?

Tzader’s eyes fluttered.

“I’m here,” she assured him. “I won’t leave you.”

He gasped hard for air, chest heaving. His hand shot up to grab her arm with a strength that surprised her.

“He’s living … I feel him getting stronger.”

Evalle glanced over her shoulder at Quinn. “Me, too.”

Tzader groaned. “You can move your hand now.”

When she looked down, his face was robust with life. She pulled her hands away. The holes in his chest were shrinking. She stared in shock. “What’d you do?”

Tzader sat up and stretched; then his shoulders slumped with the effort. “You saved my life, Evalle.”

“No, I didn’t.” She stood up and backed away from him. “I do not have those powers.”

Pushing up to his feet, Tzader turned to her, politely avoiding her naked body. “You ought to grab a robe.”

She yanked a robe off the ground where it had been left behind when one of the warlocks had disintegrated. She shoved her arms through the sleeves. “Now. What happened to you, Tzader?”

He moved slowly, still recovering. “Best I can tell, the spear tips were made of lava from a volcano I’m not telling either of you about since it’s the only thing that can kill me. But the tips have to stay in place while I die a slow death. If you hadn’t defeated the last warlock and pulled out the spear, I’d be dead.”

Beladors were not immortal, as a rule, as far as she knew. “Why can’t you be killed?”

When Tzader didn’t reply, Quinn did. “Might as well tell us. Then Evalle can share what it takes to kill her, too. I’m not leaving here without knowing more about both of you.”

She gave him an arch stare. “I think you two know all you need to know about me right now.”

Tzader shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m the descendant of a Belador who had me blessed, or cursed, depending on your point of view, and leave it at that, okay?” He walked over to Quinn. “Can we get outta here?”

“Yes. I pulled the exit route from Kizira’s mind.”

Evalle stepped up to both of them. “I doubt she’s going to let us go without a fight once you unlock her mind.”

“I won’t kill her,” Quinn said with quiet conviction. “I can leave a blank place in her thoughts when I release her that will last maybe a minute after she comes out of this state. That’s enough time to reach the surface.”

“Do it.” Tzader glanced at the still-open wall. He whistled shrilly. Two spinning knives with Celtic designs on the handles flew into the room and circled him, landing at each hip. The tips of the blades snarled and hissed.

Evalle missed her boots more than her clothes, but she had bigger worries. She knew better than to believe these two would protect her secret unless they gave her their word. But what Belador would risk his existence and his family for an Alterant?

“We have to go now.” Quinn stepped away from Kizira, who stood motionless, like an eerie statue. He led the way, racing through a maze of dark corridors that climbed upward to the surface.

Tzader followed Evalle, who kept pace with Quinn.

“We’re all good with keeping a few secrets, right?” Evalle was dying to know why neither of the men had commented on her shifting. She’d do anything to protect her tribe, but she would not go willingly into a cage again.

Not after spending her childhood locked away as a freak.

Tzader’s steps pounded close behind. “Let’s get outta here first, then talk.”

Fear went through her. He was going to throw her to the higher-ups. She knew it. He just wasn’t man enough to tell her until he was safe. “You can talk and run. Admit what you saw. I changed right back into my normal state. I’m not out of control. I chose when to shift and when to come back.”

“It’s complicated, Evalle.” Quinn led them with confidence, choosing turns without hesitation and running all-out.

Until he reached a pile of rocks that blocked their path.

Everyone skidded to a stop.

Neither man made a move to clear the rocks, and their minute of a head start was close to ending. Evalle looked at them. “Let’s get kinetic, shall we?”

Quinn shook his head. “We can’t move these rocks that way. I pulled several chants from Kizira I believe are connected to this route, but—”

“But what?” Anger mixed with fear inside her. “Start the freaking chant before your crazy priestess wakes up from her little nap.”

“I might kill us if I use the wrong chant. And she’s not crazy.” Quinn’s tone told her his patience was strained.

An unearthly shriek right out of a B horror movie rocked the underground tunnel.

“Sounds like Sleeping Beauty’s awake,” Evalle sighed.

“I liked you better when you didn’t talk,” Quinn snapped, losing all hold on his composure.

“I don’t like either one of you right now.” Tzader glared at them. “Open the damn exit or I’m gonna have to kill one seriously pissed-off priestess.”

Kizira’s shrieks grew in volume.

Quinn faced the rocks and spewed out a rapid sequence of mumbo jumbo Evalle couldn’t begin to translate or remember.