Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)(31)

Evidently so, because he asked, “How can I help you?”

“You. Can’t.”

She’d very likely ended up in this situation by allowing him to access her memory and pilfer intel on the Medb, but Flaevynn still controlled Kizira, and Quinn still needed information. He swallowed a lump of regret, forcing himself to stick to his duty. His vow to the Beladors came first, so he’d retrieve what he needed for the Beladors, then he would find some way to free her.

But would she answer his questions?

She must have seen the dilemma in his face. “Ask. I’ll answer . . . if I can. Little time.”

She probably couldn’t hold this out-of-body projection for long. He shoved aside his conscience, which would only get in the way of his interrogation. “How did Svart trolls find their way to Treoir?”

“Teleported.”

“By whom?”

Her face fell. “Me.”

The truth crashed hard between them. “You used me.”

“No. Flaevynn . . .” Her neck muscles clenched and she struggled to breathe. Then she said, “. . . compelled me.”

He knew that, but it didn’t alleviate how deep the betrayal had cut. The last time he’d seen Kizira she’d warned him, “I can’t promise that we won’t meet on a battlefield or that I won’t be compelled to do something that will make you hate me, but I don’t want to do it, and I don’t want to be your enemy.”

Was he just supposed to overlook the invasion at Treoir? Dismiss the deaths of the warriors and the threat to the Belador race? He clamped his hand on the arm of the sofa, fighting against the frustration building in his chest. “Did Flaevynn compel you to steal the location of Treoir from my mind?”

“Not . . . intentional.” Kizira’s shoulders moved with the battle she fought to maintain her image.

Every time that happened, Quinn forced his hands not to reach out to drag her away from whatever was holding her prisoner. Stay in the game. “You may not have intentionally skimmed the information from my mind, but you intentionally used it.”

“Yes. No choice.”

Always the same answer. He surged to his feet. “How am I supposed to believe you when your catchall answer is ‘I was compelled’?”

Tears pooled in her eyes, but not one broke loose. “Came to help. Can’t hold long. Ask. Now.”

She wanted to give him information in spite of being locked away? If he believed her, believed that she was imprisoned, then he had to let go of what had happened. Accept that some things were out of her control. “Okay, what can you tell me?”

That got him a cranky eye roll and one-word command. “Think.”

He nodded. “Let’s try this. You want to stop Flaevynn.”

“You understand.”

It took a moment for him to realize that she couldn’t say yes or no to that because it had been too close to a question. How could he find out what Flaevynn was after? He asked, “What would be a good gift for Flaevynn?”

Kizira’s eyes sparked with relief. “Alterants.”

Plural. How many was Flaevynn looking for and why? While he tried to figure out another question, Kizira added, “Evalle.”

“You can’t have her.”

“Number. One.”

Did Kizira mean Evalle was the most important one to Flaevynn? Why? Just to be clear, Quinn added, “Would Flaevynn be unhappy if someone harmed Evalle?”

“Maybe.”

“If Flaevynn tries to take Evalle, Tzader and I will come for her.”

“No. You lose.”

What did that mean? Quinn paced away, then back and said, “I don’t give a damn who loses.”

“I. Do.”

How could two words twist their way inside his heart? Was he really going to buy this act? He didn’t know, but his gut said to keep pushing. Back to the clever questions that sounded stupid to him. “Would Flaevynn be happy to receive a group of Alterants?”

“Very much.”

“What would a group of Alterants be called?”

“Army.”

“What would an army of Alterants be capable of accomplishing?”

She shook her head. “Beladors . . . dead.”

He stared at her in disbelief and argued, “Flaevynn can’t kill all the Beladors without facing massive retaliation from VIPER across the world. There are millions of us, many who work among humans in everyday jobs. Even if Flaevynn could destroy all the Beladors currently with VIPER, she’d face an army of our own that would step forward to take the places of those who fell.”

“Not. Necessarily.” Kizira whimpered and her image flickered.

Quinn moved toward her as if he could do something, then clenched his fists. Kizira would lash out before she’d cry. He thought he’d closed his heart against her, but no matter how much he fought it, he wanted to protect her. Wanted to believe she was just a pawn being tossed from one side of the Medb chessboard to the other, sacrificed for their queen.

That was the problem with love.

It constantly wanted to overrule logic.

Weary from an internal battle that showed no end, he finally asked, “How can I trust you?”

“Because . . .” Her form shuddered. She worked for her next breath and on the exhale said, “I. Love. You. Always have . . . always will.”