Blood Trinity (Belador #1)(91)

Adrianna released a sigh that drew everyone’s attention. “Where’s Casper?”

Tzader addressed everyone again. “He’s shaking down the trolls to find out if any of them know of a new powerful female in the city. Quinn and I will continue to track the Noirre majik and see if we can find the Medb source. Trey, you still on baby watch?”

Trey nodded. “Sasha’s doing good, but the baby is due any day now and I don’t want to leave her or Rowan alone if the Kujoo are here in force. Especially if there’s a chance they brought Ekkbar with them.”

“Who’s Ekkbar?” Adrianna asked.

“The Kujoo magician.” Trey’s thick chest bunched when he crossed his arms. “He used dreams to possess Rowan two years ago. I don’t think he can do it again, but I’m not taking that risk with her life, my wife’s or my baby’s.”

Tzader nodded and told the team, “Keep reporting to Trey. He can alert the team if the situation changes. Let’s head out.”

Evalle tested her leg, walking to the steps. All systems were a go. She’d made it to the sidewalk along the street when Storm fell into step beside her. He didn’t say a word until they were out of sight and earshot of the house.

“Why aren’t you telling the team everything?” he asked.

“The same reason I’m not answering your question.” She kept walking, not looking at him. “The less you all know, the safer you’ll be.”

He put his hand on her arm, but she didn’t snarl at him this time. Why was it when he touched her she felt her insides go soft and gooey? “Don’t push me, Storm.”

“Would it be so awful to ask for my help?”

She considered her answer as she listened to the sounds of Atlanta. “Asking for help can sometimes be dangerous.”

“I will not hurt you.”

“I will not let you.”

He breathed quietly for a moment, a quiet gathering of his thoughts. “If you won’t ask for help for yourself, then think about the team and this rock we’re after. We have to find it.”

Evalle turned to him. “I am thinking of the team and that rock. Can you follow someone who has been teleported?”

“No.”

“Did you sense a trail of any kind when you found me?” Like Tristan’s?

“Only to the street and it disappeared.”

“Then I don’t think there’s anything you can do that is more than we’re already doing.” She didn’t snap at him because she sensed his sincerity.

“Tell me who the other guy was that you stopped from killing Vyan.”

She didn’t reply.

“I think you’re afraid to tell me because you believe it’s going to change your status with the Tribunal, but you’re wrong. I’m not handing you over to Sen or them.”

He was telling the truth. She sensed how important it was to him for her to believe that he meant her no harm. Her empathic ability reared its head at the strangest times. He’d been there for her tonight and hadn’t hesitated to stand up for her with Tzader.

Would it cost her anything to give him an inch?

She lifted her hand but stopped short of touching his cheek. Maybe it was that same maturing empathic ability that was stir-frying her hormones. “I believe you, but I still can’t tell you any more.”

“You better be worth all the trouble I see ahead of me.” He snagged her hand before she dropped it to her side, then kissed her scraped knuckles.

The touch of his lips stroked her heart rhythm into a gallop. She didn’t want that hand back when touching him filled her with an unfamiliar happiness.

But he released her, so she folded her arms over her chest.

He kept nipping at her personal space, but he wasn’t a lecherous doctor.

She’d try to remember that.

“Where’re you going now?” he asked.

“To get my bike, swing by the morgue to see if the body came back on its own because we might be able to use that to track the Noirre majik, and I intend to hunt down some Nightstalkers. One in particular.”

“Then let’s get moving.”

She kept pace with him all the way back to her motorcycle. He wasn’t happy when she said she needed to work Nightstalkers on her own, but he didn’t fight her and agreed his time was better spent seeing if he could pick up any trails. She agreed to meet him at the same entrance to the park at dusk, then hopped on her bike and cruised toward the interstate with a few hours left until daylight.

The morgue was in chaos. A gang fight had ended with four stiffs, and two more arrived from a tractor-trailer pileup. No mangled female body had been returned.

Evalle slipped out before anyone could yank her into service. After taking the Edgewood exit off the downtown interstate connector, she rode past Grady Hospital and parked in her usual place on a side street. She’d dumped her helmet and was putting on her sunshades when six men in black fatigues and all wearing night-vision monoculars emerged from the shadows with weapons trained on her.

Now what?

When they had her surrounded, the largest one said with a Southern drawl, “You’re to come with us, ma’am.”

Ma’am? “Who the hell are you?” She had a suspicion.

“I’m Laredo Jones. My boss wants to talk to you.”