Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)(41)

Trey McCree walked up, his thick body stuffed in a gray T-shirt, brown corduroy jacket and jeans that might be his favorite pair, based on the worn knees and pockets. He said hello to Evalle, then started reporting on all his people. As Trey was one of the most powerful Belador telepaths, they couldn’t afford for him to get infected.

Evalle hated to put one more thing on Tzader’s shoulders, but as soon as Trey finished, she had to tell Tzader what was going on. She’d kept her activities with Macha secret long enough, and Macha made it clear Evalle was flying solo now.

Macha might be her goddess, but Tzader and Quinn were the closest Evalle had ever come to having family. If she didn’t make it out of the ABC, she wanted Tzader to know the truth behind why she’d entered. Because Sen would convince everyone she’d gone inside to gain immortality.

When Trey finished his report and walked away, Tzader made a move to follow him.

“You got a minute, Z?” Evalle asked.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Is it important? I need to get these agents back out on the street.”

Would I ask if it wasn’t? Her temper jumped at his sharp tone and her skin started baking. She clamped her jaws to keep from saying something she’d regret. Tzader was doing his job. Breathing through her teeth, she waved a hand to move him on. “Yes, it’s important, but I can wait.”

With a quick nod, he was off again.

Pulling on the long sleeves of her vintage Army BDU—Battle Dress Uniform—shirt to keep the armband hidden, she followed Tzader.

“Where’re you going, Z? The conference room’s in the other direction.”

“The amphitheater.”

“How many agents are in?”

“Thirty-eight. We’ve alerted the other divisions electronically.”

Did that mean there was more to this meeting than discussing an outbreak of infection? Inside the cavernous amphitheater lit by torches, Tzader took the steps down to the stage two at a time.

Why the medieval look, when Sen could conjure up anything with a snap?

Evalle scoped out the crowd, finally locating Trey and a few others she’d teamed up with in the past. The room was curved, with tiered seating of carved stone steps going down to a stage that glowed around the edges. Picking her way across legs that pulled aside for her, she plopped down next to Trey, who sat one row in front of Lucien, Casper and Adrianna.

Evalle nodded at Reece “Casper” Jordan, who was every inch a Texas cowboy, except on rare occasions. He got the nickname “Casper” because he shared his body with a thirteenth-century ghost. Every now and then the ghost would show up for a battle.

A grin lit up his rough and rugged face when he noticed her. “Things sure have been calm since you got over your EMS attack.”

She would not rise to the bait. Another agent had accused her of suffering from EMS—Evalle Missing Storm—while Storm had been MIA for three weeks. She’d put a couple of vicious gang members in the hospital on her crankier days. They’d deserved it for raping and killing a young girl. “Surprised to see you here, Casper.”

“Why?”

“So many sheep, so little time.”

He just grinned that much harder. “But I’ll always make time for the black sheep in your Belador tribe.”

The hole’s deep enough. Stop shoveling now.

Evalle ignored him and spoke to Lucien Solis, who dipped his chin to acknowledge her in his usual mysterious way. The dark Castilian seeped sex from his pores, but none of the women she knew of had made any headway with him. Evalle had heard rumors about Lucien and Trey’s sister-in-law, a witch.

But not a dark witch like the one who sat next to Lucien.

Adrianna LaFontaine. Rather than appear a jerk in front of the team, Evalle gave Adrianna a murmured hello. She embodied what Evalle would label “sex kitten,” with blond hair falling past her shoulders, full red lips, perfect skin and blue eyes that assessed everyone with cool reserve. Nice to see her in a cinnamon-red sweater and gray slacks instead of what she usually wore—something that showed off her legs.

The Sterling witch cocked an eyebrow in answer.

Worked for Evalle.

She still hadn’t gotten over the fact that Adrianna had been the one to care for Storm during the three weeks he’d disappeared after Sen had crushed his jaguar body.

Of course, she was thankful Adrianna had hidden Storm’s battered body when Evalle was in VIPER prison, but she still wanted to use her foot to wipe the smug expression off Adrianna’s face every time they met. Like now.

No. Not now. Not here.

Evalle tucked her fisted hands under her crossed arms, facing the stage and thinking calm thoughts. Storm had said there was nothing between him and the witch, and he would have been hit with pain if he’d lied.

The new part for Evalle was that even without that consequence, she would believe Storm.

He’d earned her trust.

When Sen called the room to order, Evalle sat up straighter. Tzader stood a few feet away from Sen. The way this room was created, no one needed a microphone.

Sen stood a head taller than Tzader, but she’d seen Sen even taller and broader. His body could change as easily as the length of his mahogany-brown hair. It was cut short today. Rarely did he appear in anything other than black jeans and a T-shirt. Today he wore a long-sleeved black tee. Many had speculated about his godlike powers, but no deity would be forced to act as liaison between VIPER agents and the Tribunal.