Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)(21)

“What kind of bullshit is that? You wanting to screw a beast? I’ll have to shift for the full effect.”

Warning signals blared in his head. There were so many things wrong with that statement that he didn’t know where to start counting.

First, Evalle had cursed. She never cursed. Brina, the Belador warrior queen, forbade it. More than that, she’d described exactly how this felt, as if this was just screwing. More than that, to even suggest she’d shift into her beast form was insane.

He repeated slowly, “Please take your glasses off.”

She snatched off her glasses. Green eyes glowed in her face, standard for an Alterant, but a fog dimmed her glowing eyes, as if she had glazed vision.

Just as he’d thought. That bone. He had to figure out . . .

She slapped the glasses against her leg. “Now, you want to get back to it, or do I have to go find someone more willing?”

The streak of jealousy that shot through him drove a feral growl from the depths of his chest.

Evalle blinked, face rigid with anger, then she stepped back and stomped her boots, releasing hidden blades.

Oh, boy. Here came the warrior.

He had to get himself under control first, which was no small effort with his body begging for release and her standing there offering him what he’d dreamed about every night he had slept recently. He held up a hand, asking her silently to give him a minute, then scrubbed his hands over his face. Think.

That wasn’t Evalle talking.

In his fantasy she wanted sex any time of day.

She kept slapping her sunglasses impatiently against her thigh, drawing his eyes down her arm.

How was he going to get that damned bone off her arm? He didn’t know, but in the meantime he had to help her gain control. Taking another breath to bring a calm he didn’t feel to his words, he told her, “The armband is influencing you, Evalle.”

She glared at him and huffed out a chesty breath of aggravation. “If you don’t want me, just say so. Don’t give me lame excuses.”

As if. “Oh, I want you, sweetheart, but not like this.”

Seeing a glimmer of the woman he knew, whose eyes softened when he called her sweetheart, gave him a boost of encouragement, but this wasn’t settled yet. “I want you so much I ache, but I want you when you’re the only one making the decisions.”

Her eyes turned stony with threat. “I am making the decisions. If we’re done here, I’m heading out to find someone who’ll satisfy me. Stay out of my way or I’ll hurt you.”

Definitely not Evalle talking.

Storm kept a lid on his rage this time, but she would act on her words—over his dead body—if he didn’t get her out of this situation for now.

He could end up bloody trying to get her to listen, but he had to help her get a rein on her emotions. “You don’t have to look for someone else.” He used his most accommodating voice, then added in a husky tone, “I’ll take care of you.”

She grinned at him as if he’d just agreed to be her full-time man toy.

Talk about missed opportunities.

Could he temporarily block the bone’s influence long enough to get through to the real Evalle? Maybe, if she gave him the time he needed for the spell to work. But if she figured out what he was doing too soon, she might go from being aroused to furious. That could end with her shifting into her beast and killing him, because he would cut his arms off before he harmed her.

Smiling to keep up the charade, he said, “Ready for something special?”

Her eyes glowed brighter, almost as bright as the dazzling smile she gave him. “Absolutely. Bring it.”

“Then close your eyes and cover your ears with your hands.”

That earned him a confused frown. “Why?”

“Closing off your senses heightens your sensitivity to touch.” True, but he was playing on her sexual na?veté. She might be able to kill a demon six different ways, but she’d had very little experience with men.

“Oh. Okay.” Hooking her glasses in the opening of her shirt, she slapped her hands over her ears and closed her eyes.

As if the real Evalle would go along with anything that easily?

Keeping his voice soft, he immediately started chanting words he’d learned among the Ashaninka tribe where he’d grown up, and moved in a slow circle around her.

By the time he reached her front again, her smile had deteriorated into a flat line of discontent. A crease formed at the bridge of her nose with her concentration.

His words were getting past her hands. She was hearing him.

Her eyes flew open, glaring with promise of retaliation. She dropped her hands and balled them into fists. “You lied to me.”

He kept chanting, his voice growing stronger.

It wasn’t working.

Storm could feel the bone’s power fighting him, trying to push him away. Moving back a step out of her reach, he shouted native words in his chant, telling the bone, “You can’t have her. She’s mine.”

She took a step toward him, fists cocked. “Stop it. I told you to never use your majik on me.”

True. He’d just broken his word, but he’d do far worse to guard her from harm. His chants were loud now, harsh, biting sounds he forced power into, rushing the spell.

“Damn you!” She dove at him, hands stretched out toward his neck.