Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(103)

Quinn shouted, “No, Evalle!”

She slid to a stop at the side of Kizira who froze in mid-motion with arms extended, eyes stuck open, full of fury.

Quinn appeared next to the priestess. “I’ve locked her mind, but I can’t hold her long without harming her.” He cut eyes teaming with sadness at Evalle. “Help Tzader.”

She nodded then felt a blow to her midsection and doubled over. Quinn groaned but held his position with his back to the room. When she turned to Tzader she found him on the ground, the three-pronged spear staked through his chest.

Tzader looked over at her. His face twisted with pain. Unlink… before I die and leave me, he called into her mind. You can’t kill this one.

Evalle looked at the last warlock who laughed in triumph until he eyed Kizira immobilized. That’s when the eyes on the serpent tattoo on his head came to life. That meant he carried the same blood as the Medb High Priestess.

We stand together or we die together, Evalle told Tzader.

Agreed, Quinn confirmed on a gasp. But I can’t help you and hold Kizira immobile.

Evalle faced the warlock. Intimidation played a role in every battle won. “You don’t look so hard to kill.”

The warlock whispered a chant, lifting his hands to his lips and blowing across the palms. Both hands tripled in size, extending into claws. He swiped one long talon at the nearest wall, digging a trough through stone that crumbled as though cutting butter with a cleaver. He crooked the same claw, smiling when he goaded her to attack.

Well, crap. She hadn’t really expected to get out of this mess without facing this decision. But she’d only shifted once—part way—and that had been a reaction to terror. Returning to her normal physical state had been a struggle.

No time to worry about what might happen.

It was time to live…

Evalle mentally reached inside herself, deep into the core of her life source. She urged her body to free itself. Power rolled through the center of her, surging into her legs and arms. Bones cracked and popped, skin stretched tight. Her clothes split, shredding into tatters that fell away from her body.

Quinn would get an unobstructed view of all her assets later if they survived this. Leather ripped with a squeal when her feet thickened, toes growing the length of a human hand. Her jaw expanded to accommodate a double row of teeth that sharpened into jagged fangs.

Nerves and tendons cried out in pain, but she roared, now able to stare down at the warlock from ten feet off the ground.

He dared to laugh then threw a ball of energy at her.

She batted it away, blowing a hole in the rock wall.

The warlock cocked his head, still smiling, but with a little surprise. He flew at her, arms drawn back to swing a clawed hand at her neck. Before he could sever her head, she blocked him, using an oversized arm that sizzled with unspent power.

He bounced back, stunned for the two seconds she allowed him to live.

She curled her leathery fingers into a fist and smashed his face, slamming him backward to the wall where his body clung, shaking. Bolts of energy popped and sparked around him before he dropped to the ground. When she stepped close to the warlock he gasped, “You shall pay for this. I call upon the gods of—”

She lifted a foot heavy as two cement blocks and slammed down on his midsection, crushing him into two halves.

His last breath screamed out of him, a sound of agony Evalle never wanted to hear again.

Brilliant orange light blanched the inside of the cave. His body foamed purple then disintegrated into a puff of brown smoke. A sure sign he was Medb royalty.

Evalle took several breaths, calming the power pulsing through her. She begged her body to pull back into itself now that they were safe. Each breath she drew forced another part to tighten and shrink, but hallelujah, she was reversing the change. Sweat covered her skin. Pain daggered her arms and legs, sickened her stomach. Her head felt as though a stake was being driven through her temples, but she’d end up facing worse if the Tribunal found out she’d shifted.

Feeling the last of her body return to human form, Evalle swung around to Tzader who lay perfectly still. When she reached him, she yanked the spear free. Blood gushed out the three holes. Ignoring her naked state, she dropped down on her bare knees and pressed her hands over the gaping wounds to stop the flow of blood. But she had no power to save him from all the internal damage.

“He can’t be dead, because we’re alive,” Quinn said in a wheeze over his shoulder from where he still controlled Kizira.

“You’re right.” Evalle and Quinn had a chance to survive if they unlinked and escaped, but she couldn’t walk away from Tzader. He was not the traitorous Belador. If she unlinked, he’d lose the strength she still gave him. Her abdomen hurt, too, but… not as though she’d been stabbed. Why didn’t she feel like she was dying?

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,” Quinn said.

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

“You can move your hand now,” Tzader told her.

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