Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)
Sherrilyn Kenyon & Dianna Love
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
FROM SHERRILYN AND DIANNA
Thank you to our family, friends and fans. We love you all and couldn’t do this without you! A special shout-out to our amazing husbands, Ken (Sherri’s) and Karl (Dianna’s), who make it possible for us to write a bazillion hours a week.
No book happens without the early beta reading and feedback from Cassondra Murray, Dianna’s assistant, who is always ready to do whatever is needed. Jerry Brandon, former mayor of St. Marys, Georgia, and proprietor of Riverview Hotel, was very helpful when Dianna visited to research St. Marys and Cumberland Island. Dianna has Donna Browning to thank for introducing her to Cumberland, which is steeped in history and home to wild horses. Thank you also to Steve Doyle and Joyce Ann McLaughlin for being early readers whose insights were invaluable and deeply appreciated. We want to give a shout-out to Barbara Vey, a Publishers Weekly blogger who supports readers and authors everywhere. Thanks also to Sara Reyes and her Fresh Fiction team, who do an outstanding job of getting the word out to readers every time we have a new book release and who organize so many events for readers and authors throughout the year.
We appreciate Louise Burke, our dynamic publisher whose enthusiasm is only surpassed by her genius, and no book reaches its full potential without the review and terrific editing of the talented Lauren McKenna. Lauren’s commitment to publishing the best story possible makes working with her a pleasure. We would be remiss if we didn’t send another high-five to the Pocket Art Department, which has once again rocked on an incredible cover, and the Pocket staff who keep all the gears moving smoothly. We appreciate Robert Gottlieb’s dedication to managing this series and seeing that it continues to reach our audience.
And saving the best for last, we want to thank our readers, who come out to see us in every city, send encouraging messages that touch our hearts and read our stories so that we may continue doing what we love. You mean the world to us.
We look forward to hearing from you anytime at [email protected], or stop by www.SherrilynKenyon.com and www.AuthorDiannaLove.com, and make sure to visit the “Reader Lounge” at Dianna Love’s Fan Page on Facebook, where you’ll find free Belador items and scavenger hunts.
ONE
Dependable intel made the difference between walking away from a dangerous situation alive . . . or not.
Evalle Kincaid stared down the rocky slope in the North Georgia Mountains at bad intel.
She’d dug up one slim lead in forty-eight hours of racing to find Tristan. He was an Alterant like her. Similar powers and the same glowing green eyes, except he hadn’t been gifted with her natural night vision, an ability she’d needed to hike up this mountain in the middle of the night.
Disgusted, she muttered, “That’s no coven meeting.”
“No,” Storm agreed. He squatted next to her, his breath puffing white clouds against the chilly October air. “Looks more like a midnight festival for all things strange and dangerous.” Coal-black hair grazed his shoulders and blended into his black leather jacket. Soft hair Evalle loved caressing. The coppery skin and sharp angles of Storm’s cheekbones had been handed down through a mix of Ashaninka and Navajo genes, as had his Skinwalker ability to shift into a deadly black jaguar. That meant he also had preternatural night vision and saw just fine in the dark.
Evalle leaned forward where they hunkered down behind an outcropping of boulders, and searched the area a hundred yards away where moonlight cascaded across a valley. At least twenty people—mostly nonhumans—had gathered, and more were coming. “You see any female in that bunch that might be a witch?”
Storm shook his head. “Only male human forms so far. Not even sure what some of those things are that have both animal and human parts.”
One creature with an eight-foot-tall orange lizard body, two sets of human arms and a vulture’s head skulked through the crowd that parted like the Red Sea in front of him. Most of the beings meandered around the edge of a thirty-foot-wide circle created by torches stuck in the ground.
A ceremonial circle?
Whatever it was, Evalle wanted the show to get rolling soon.
As if sensing her concern, Storm asked, “Think the goddess’ll extend your deadline?”
“Again? Not a chance. I was amazed when Macha gave me four more days.” That had been two days ago, and Evalle had been given that reprieve from losing her freedom only because she’d defeated a demonic Svart troll before it killed everything in its path.
Opportunities like that didn’t come along every day.
Good thing, too, or she’d stay in perpetual traction.
But gaining two extra days of freedom from Macha had balanced out getting beaten to a pulp by the Svart. Macha was goddess over all the Beladors, a race of powerful Celtic warriors who protected humans. She’d offered sanctuary in her pantheon to all Alterants who swore fealty to her.
With a catch.
Evalle first had to deliver the origin of Alterants, who were part Belador and part unknown. Since Alterants changed from human form into beasts that could kill even very powerful beings, Macha wanted that unknown part cleared up before giving carte blanche freedom to Alterants.
And Tristan had that information.
Unfortunately, while helping Evalle escape a deadly enemy last week, Tristan had been captured. Evalle didn’t want to think about the hideous ways he might be suffering. Freeing him was her first priority.