Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)(62)

She could trust Storm with her heart and her body.

But he might not ever trust her again after tonight.

Pulling away, he said, “I’ve got something to give you first.”

On the way back to the helicopter, Storm gave a hand signal to the pilot, who cut the motor. By the time she reached the aircraft right behind him, the props were barely moving. Storm leaned into the cockpit and pulled out a jacket covered in tiny glass prisms that reflected any bit of light they could grab.

He held the slinky covering up for her. “Put this on and take your hair out of the ponytail.”

“Why?”

“This is a whole different beast game. Looking the part here carries as much weight as attitude.”

That’s when she took stock of Storm’s lean black jeans and snakeskin boots with silver tips. Both jaguar eyes carved into his belt buckle had yellow stones again like the diamond he’d traded to get them into the Beast Club.

Edgy. Sexy. Hers.

Resigned to him being the expert here, she shrugged into the jacket that fit her perfectly. She pulled the elastic band off her ponytail, leaned forward to shake her hair, then stood up, letting it float back to her shoulders. “How’s that?”

“Smokin’.”

Only Storm could make her smile right now.

He reached inside the helicopter and withdrew a square velvet box the size of his two hands together. “Hold this.”

Keeping her voice down, she said, “If I’m the sponsor, shouldn’t I be giving the orders?”

His lips twitched. “Just being efficient. We’re running close on time.” He lifted a stunning emerald stone the size of his thumb that had been cut in a half-round pear shape with a flat back. “Hold still.”

When she narrowed her eyes at him, he added, “Please.”

He placed the stone where it would naturally lie against her chest if the gem dangled on a chain. As Storm held it in place, he started softly chanting words that could be Navajo, Ashaninka or some other language.

She felt heat from the stone, but not an uncomfortable feeling. What was he doing?

Storm lifted his fingers away and the stone remained on her chest. “Did you glue that to me?”

“No. It’s held there by majik.”

“It’s pretty, but I’m not really dressed to wear jewels,” she muttered to herself when Storm twisted around to tell the pilot he’d call when he needed the helicopter again.

With that handled, he led her away before the props started winding up. As they walked toward the dock, the whooshing noise behind them shielded his words from anyone but her. “The stone binds you to my majik so that I can find you quickly if we get separated.”

She tried to pluck the jewel off her chest. “You glued a tracking device on me?”

He ground out a tired sigh. “It’s more than a tracking device and I didn’t glue it. I can remove it when this is over, but I don’t trust the Medb.”

“Or me?” She stopped walking, forcing him to face her. “Is that why you put this on me?”

His vexation was right up front in his gaze. “I trust you to do whatever it takes to save everyone but yourself. But when it comes to your neck, you stick it out there no matter how many hatchets are swinging for it.” He ran his hand over her hair, lifting a strand to rub between his finger and thumb. “Someone’s got to watch out for you.”

His words reached inside her and gently caressed her heart. She was sticking two necks out this time and wanted him to leave with his intact, too. “I need your promise that once we get there, you will not argue with me over whatever I have to do to get to Tristan and the other Alterants on my own.”

“I’m your fighter to do with as you wish.”

No, you’re not. “I don’t want to own anyone.” She noticed the troll standing near the light again and hurried this along. She wanted to be sure Storm would not get himself killed when he found himself not entering the fight. “What I mean is, you promise not to attack someone who acts aggressively toward me. This place will be overflowing with testosterone. I can handle myself, so let me deal with any conflict.”

Glaring at her, he shook his head. Before she could argue, he said, “I will not interfere unless I think you’re in mortal danger. That’s the best I can give you.”

She’d take what she could get.

He added, “And you can’t interfere either. No one can use majik, kinetics or any means to help their fighter.”

Not a problem, since he was going to be nowhere near a battle.

But she kept the conversation on track to gain more information. “What happens if someone is caught aiding a fighter?”

“The fighter is forfeited to the host, who can make a trade to the Medb, and the sponsor is ejected as a minimum.”

In other words, much worse could happen to the sponsor.

He put his hand at her back. “Let’s get this over with.” When he reached the dock, he flipped the troll a gold coin that was stained with age.

The troll grinned and stepped close to the light, waving his hand across it to signal the boat again.

Evalle breathed through her mouth, glad the trolls back in Atlanta didn’t smell like rotten fish.

Storm asked the troll, “This the only pickup point?”

“Nuh-uh. Two more runnin’ ta-night.”