Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(100)
Quinn said, “Ditto on the kinetic, telepathic, and energy force, plus I can mind lock.”
Evalle had no idea what he was talking about. “What do you mean by mind lock?”
“I can reach into another mind remotely, lock into their brain waves, and see through their eyes. I can guide them as well… if they don’t realize I’ve invaded their mind and resist. Then I’d have a battle on my hands.”
“I thought the spell coating the walls was blocking us from reaching anyone. How can you access someone’s mind from here?” She hadn’t lived this long by accepting anything at face value.
“I can’t reach beyond this facility, but I feel air movement. The Medb must have air passages running between the caverns or we’d have already died of asphyxiation. I can access anyone in another space connected to this one by even a thin gap in the rocks.”
Tzader perked up at that last bit. “Can you destroy a mind while you’re inside a person’s head?”
His question had been asked purely for battle strategy, but Evalle wanted to hear the answer for another reason. Could Quinn tamper with her mind if they linked? She didn’t like the thought of that at all.
Quinn’s pause indicated he’d given Tzader’s question some thought. “Not without our warrior queen’s approval.”
On the other hand, Evalle had hoped he’d share something no one knew about him, a secret that would make Quinn as vulnerable as she was if she had to shift.
Fat chance either of these two men would make that mistake.
“Are you… dressed, Evalle?” Quinn asked that with sincere concern that surprised her. He thought they’d stripped her?
“Yes. I’m in jeans and a shirt.” The dark brown cotton shirt hanging open over her running top was one of the two changes of clothes she owned—she preferred to live her life unencumbered by anything, even wardrobe. She’d twisted her shoulder-length hair up beneath a frayed ball cap to spend a night of surveillance in Wendover. She had lost the cap when she was captured.
“What about your powers, Evalle?” Tzader clearly wanted all the weapons laid out so they could make a solid plan.
“I have exceptional vision, similar to infrared-illuminated night-vision optics. I have kinetics, telepathy, energy force… and the Medb failed to remove my boots, which conceal blades.” And I might be empathic, but that was a recent surprise and unimportant right now.
Quinn gave a low laugh. “Can’t wait to get a look at you.”
“Your optics are another plus.” Tzader’s eyes stared her way. “The next step’s gonna take some trust. You willing to link with us so we’ll have your full power and night vision?”
Not if Quinn could overpower her mind.
“Evalle, I sense hesitation on your part after learning I have the capability to take control of your mind.” Quinn’s voice was smooth as though he’d lifted her thoughts. Could he? “But do realize that I could have already done so and locked on to your vision if I’d so chosen.”
He was right.
She considered her dwindling options and had no choice but to relent. “Linking is our only chance, but first I want an agreement from both of you.”
“On what?” Suspicion filtered into Tzader’s commanding voice.
“That no matter what we have to do to get out of here you vow that we keep any secrets shared between us. You swear on the life of our goddess Macha.”
“You get a head injury when they caught you, woman?” Quinn lashed back, not sounding quite so cultured, as if he hid a less than polished background behind that suave voice. “Swearing on Macha’s life’s a good way to see the last of yours.”
“You think that’s any crazier than me making a leap of faith with you two after one of our tribe tricked me?”
“Our tribe?” Quinn asked.
“Yes.” Evalle was tired of always being doubted. “I swore the same oath you did. I’ve put my life on the line many times for other Beladors, even though—” She bit off her last words, stopping before she finished with even though I’m treated like some mutt with tainted blood. Never let them know how much their biased stares and constant spying slid under her defenses like a fresh habanero pepper rubbed on raw skin.
Beladors might tolerate an Alterant but any trust she’d received in the past had been an uneasy alliance in tense times. She’d admit that the tribe had reason to be suspicious of Alterants after the last male who shifted two months ago had killed nine Beladors trying to contain him. But she’d proven herself for five hard years and deserved respect.
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 where 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?