Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)(5)
Storm was more concerned about keeping her safe than anything, but telling her that would only raise her hackles. He let his finger trail across her smooth cheek. “I’ll be ready for Sen if he tries to kill me again.”
She growled something and caught Storm’s hand in hers. “How’re you going to be ready for someone who can teleport and has powers that are godlike? I might even believe he was a god or demigod, except he’s clearly being forced to act as liaison for VIPER. By a more powerful someone. The next time he slams you up against a brick wall, he might have enough time to make sure you’re dead and hide the body before he leaves.”
“Just like last time, my spirit guide will show someone where to find the body.”
“Comforting.”
“That’s tomorrow’s worry. Tonight we have a different fight.” Giving her a gentle shove, he kept them moving down the hill toward a smorgasbord of deadly beings.
He hadn’t really thought she’d wait up on the ridge, but just once he wished she wouldn’t go racing into danger. If not for knowing that Evalle would go searching for Imogenia on her own and end up somewhere like this without backup, he’d pack her up and take her to Atlanta right now.
With her badass fighting skills, she could handle herself in a fight with most supernatural beings, but he’d feel better if she would tap all her powers, not just energy force and telekinetics.
But demons would turn into choirboys before she did that.
Evalle would never break her vow to the Beladors and shift into her more powerful Alterant beast state, even if her life was at stake.
Storm had the benefit of majik and his jaguar form, but using majik in a Beast Club promised a nasty fight. Like the bloody battles he’d been forced to endure when he’d belonged to a sponsor back in South America.
Before he’d escaped that sponsor . . . the witch doctor.
With the terrain already leveling out as he and Evalle drew closer to the firelight in the valley, Storm had little time left for conversation. “When we get there, I want you to follow my instructions exactly.”
Evalle’s quick bristle of irritation pricked his skin.
He didn’t need his empathic gift to know he’d poked at the badger. “You aren’t catching my drift. This isn’t about me being in charge. You’re the sponsor. I’m the fighter. As far as they’re concerned, I belong to you.”
“Belong? You mean I own you?” She turned a sour face toward him.
“Yes. These are like cockfights, but the fighters here are usually demons or some other subservient being.” He could feel her thinking, trying to figure out what that meant about him fighting in South America. A dark time he didn’t want to discuss right now, when it would involve bringing up that bitch witch doctor who had killed his father.
He never risked thinking the witch doctor’s name, couldn’t as long as she held his soul, or she’d ride that connection like a superhighway to find him.
Bitch fit her just fine as a name.
Dead Bitch would fit even better.
But when he was ready to make that happen, he wanted to find her first rather than call her to him and have her show up unexpectedly. Based on Storm’s visions, the witch doctor had an interest in Evalle.
If Storm thought, as he first had, that Evalle was at risk, he’d tell her about the witch doctor, but knowing Evalle, she’d go hunting the witch doctor on her own. Not happening. The evil bitch had been in the Atlanta area for the past week, according to Nightstalkers. That meant she’d probably learned enough about Evalle to avoid confronting an Alterant with capabilities that few knew of or understood.
After discussing it with his guardian spirit, Kai, Storm now felt he was still the witch doctor’s ultimate goal. He’d be ready for her when she showed her face.
But one thing tapped at his skull. How much did the witch doctor know of Storm’s interest in Evalle?
The bitch fed off of pain.
She was almost certainly lying in wait with a plan to dole out as much misery as possible, because he’d humiliated her when he’d escaped.
His bet? The witch doctor would not come for him until she had a plan in place for payback, something Storm hadn’t been concerned over until meeting Evalle. His gut muscles twisted into a pretzel at the thought of anything happening to Evalle. Blood would run knee deep first.
“Do you get to choose who you fight?” Evalle asked, thankfully pushing the subject away from his past and back to the Beast Club.
“No.”
“Can you turn down a fight?”
“Doesn’t work like that in these smaller venues. First we have to find out what’s at stake, and the rules, then the sponsors start negotiating fight positions. Your fighter’s first match has to be in his designated category. Fighting one match fulfills the Beast Club requirements. After that, your fighter is welcome to take on any and all opponents as long as the sponsors can agree on terms.”
“You mean like side bets.”
“Right.”
She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “So we can find an easy fight?”
Doubtful with his being able to shift into another form, which brought out deadly creatures, but he didn’t want her worrying, so he said, “Maybe.”
“What do the sponsors get if their fighter wins?”
He’d really like to be able to lie at a time like this, but he couldn’t afford to weaken his body with the pain lying brought on. “Nothing for the early rounds and, so you know, they sometimes call one round of fighting, or each battle, a mash at a venue this size. The winners keep fighting until they’re either killed or they forfeit. Once you win, the only way to not continue fighting is to forfeit a win, which rarely happens.”