Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)(40)
“As if I have a choice in doing her bidding when I’m compelled?” She’d snapped the words at him but kept her voice hushed.
“Ya ha outmaneuvered Flaevynn’s compulsion spell more than once.”
Kizira grudgingly admitted, “Yes, but I’ve never been able to disregard a direct order.” Some secrets had to be shielded at all costs. Kizira refused to even think about what was dear to her while inside this place.
“Using that sly phrasin’ and your clever mind is all ya need ta do what you must. You may be angry with the way I did no stand up for ya earlier, but it ha taken me all this time ta get you released. That would no ha happened if I ha no convinced Flaevynn I was more interested in savin’ her than anyone.”
Distrust moved through Kizira’s chest, but she couldn’t argue that she was free, so she didn’t berate him again. “Okay, I’m here. Now what?”
“For us ta succeed and Flaevynn ta fail, you must do two things.”
“I’m listening.”
“Ya must show Flaevynn that ya are following her orders exactly while capturing the Alterants, and no interfere with their trainin’.”
“Why would I interfere?”
“Because we both know ya are protectin’ someone.”
The blush of warmth that had returned with her healing rushed out of her face when she was reminded that Cathbad knew a secret Kizira would shield from Flaevynn at all costs.
Cathbad must have taken her silence as denial. He sighed. “Ah, child, we’ve already been through this. No need to be remindin’ you how I know of the soft spot in your heart for one particular Belador. The beasts we capture will be compelled to kill all they encounter.” His gaze filled with something she’d almost call regret, but Cathbad was not a man to suffer such a feeling when immortality was on the line.
Kizira shut her mind to keep from thinking about Quinn, or about anything else that mattered to her. This might be a trick to uncover all her secrets. Speaking with an icy calm she didn’t feel, she asked, “What are you getting at?”
Cathbad’s smile came from a sad thought. He sighed and shook his head slightly. “I will no let you be duped into thinkin’ anyone is safe in this game. Once Flaevynn compels you, then you will compel the Alterants we capture at the beast battle. When you do, they will have ta execute your orders. Even Evalle will no be able ta disobey. Give Flaevynn any reason ta doubt your commitment ta this plan by protecting one Belador, and all is lost.”
No, all would never be lost.
Cathbad was a fool if he thought she’d just stand by and let Flaevynn destroy everything that Kizira held dear.
Kizira would do Flaevynn’s bidding for one reason.
To be the first one inside Treoir Castle and swim in that river so that she would become powerful enough to kill a Medb queen.
THIRTEEN
At nine on the dot, Evalle rode her gold Suzuki GSX-R through an opening in the face of the mountain that housed VIPER headquarters in North Georgia. She slowed her bike and parked near where Tzader Burke stood inside with a group of agents.
By the time she peeled out of her riding gear, most of the Beladors had dispersed, probably headed to the meeting room.
She strode across the stone floor, her boot heels tapping a straight line to Tzader. Just over six feet tall and cut with muscle from head to toe, he was one of her two best friends. He exuded power, leadership and confidence. Beautiful coffee-brown skin covered all that muscle hidden inside a navy-blue collared shirt, jeans and a black leather jacket. The honed cut of his nose and cheeks shaped his face with lethal perfection, but you couldn’t call him pretty.
Or maybe you could. But it would only happen once.
Maistir over the North American Beladors, Tzader commanded attention just by entering a room, and he took in everything at once with the eyes of a hawk.
She trusted this man more than she would’ve trusted a brother if she’d ever had a sibling. “What’s up with no telepathy?”
“An infection. One of our Beladors was brought in with severe disorientation and erratic behavior. By the time a Belador healer got a look at him, he couldn’t communicate, so the healer tried reaching him telepathically to find out what was going on.”
“It had to be bad for the healer to do that.” Because Sen allowed no telepathy inside the mountain and no majik beyond what he wielded.
“Yes, but that’s how the healer caught the infection.”
Now the telepathic silence made sense. “Where’d it come from?”
“Before the healer lost his ability to talk, he shouted Nightstalker.” A grave look crossed Tzader’s face. “We think the ghouls are passing it somehow in the handshake. This shuts down our best line of intel.”
Evalle couldn’t help that her first thought was for her favorite Nightstalker, Grady, a grouchy old ghoul she considered a friend. Nightstalkers traded intel for a brief handshake with a powerful being, thus gaining ten minutes of corporeal form. Most spent that ten minutes chugging any liquor they could find.
Grady was in danger. She should go back and check on him. She should . . . stop panicking. The bone. She had to keep a grip on the stupid bone. Forcing calm into her tone, she asked, “How many Beladors are infected?”
“We have five here, and I’ve sent a team to hunt down a couple who’ve gone MIA who probably thought it was the flu, then lost consciousness, or might be walking around exposed to dangerous elements. That’s why I told everyone no telepathic contact until we can quarantine this infection.”