Rise of the Gryphon (Belador #4)(67)

“What, Storm?” When he didn’t answer her, Evalle echoed, “Lying by omission is still lying.”

“That damned witch doctor I’ve been hunting for. I’m concerned about her getting close to you.”

That last sentence gave her mental whiplash. “The licorice-smelling one?”

“Yes.” He washed a hand over his face and shook his head at a silent thought. His jaw muscles moved, then he faced her again. “She should be trying to kill me, but my gut tells me she could be a threat to you, and I don’t know why.”

Like that made her feel better? “What’s her interest in me?”

“I don’t know. I would have told you sooner, but I really thought I’d had that vision because she’d learned we were partners at VIPER and that she’d figured if she found you she’d find me. When you disappeared on me today, I—” He shook his head, and this time when he looked at her his eyes were haunted. “I thought she had you. She could have taken you somewhere I might not find you.”

That explained the core of his anger. Evalle had scared Storm. Nothing frightened this man.

To know that he cared that much for her struck so deep she experienced a moment of happiness that had never been in her life before him. She would not let the witch doctor harm Storm. “The minute I get out of here, we’re going after her.”

“And that’s exactly why I never told you much about her. I may have stumbled on her up on the mountain today, but now I think she can find me if she wants to, so you going after her would probably play into her plans, whatever they are.”

Evalle wanted to get her hands on that crazy witch, but that wouldn’t happen if she didn’t walk out of here alive. Taking a deep breath, determined to say this with conviction, she told him, “You have to leave. Now. You obviously have resources. Get out of here.”

Storm lifted his hand to her face, but didn’t touch her when his glance around reminded her they had roles to play. He lowered his hand. “There’s nothing you can say to convince me to leave you.”

And that was why she wanted a chance to be with him.

He moved with the grace of a dangerous jungle cat, put Adonis to shame with his warrior body and wore honor with the same ease other men wore their favorite jeans. But he had come for her every time she’d been sure she had no one to turn to, and he would stand by her against impossible odds.

Her palms were damp. She didn’t know what to say to a man who gave so much and asked for so little in return. “I . . . you . . .”

“I know,” he said gently, a warm smile tipping the corners of his lips. “Let’s just get through this with you alive. I want to find a place to watch the matches where you can see me. I can’t use majik, but I can still coach you.”

Dame Lynn’s voice filled the room, projected from some invisible spot. “First round opponents Varkal and Ixxkter have entered the holding areas. Our first match starts in two minutes.”

A roar of cheers and boos went up, shaking the air.

Since Storm was more familiar with these venues than Evalle, she let him take the lead. They’d just moved through a clump of people when he took a step and leaned down, looking between bodies.

Evalle followed his moves and whispered, “What is it?”

Storm muttered a curse. “Lanna.”

“Not possible!”

He shot forward into an opening and Evalle followed as he swung in front of Lanna, who looked ghost white. “How’d you get in here?”

Lanna stared straight through him. Her voice trembled. “He’s here.”

Evalle turned to see what had terrified Lanna. She caught a glimpse of short yellow hair and sallow skin she’d seen at the Oakey Mountain Beast Club before the crowd had swallowed the creepy guy. Had he frightened Lanna? In spite of wanting to strangle the girl, Evalle leaned down in front of her. “Who’s here?”

“Grendal.”

Storm’s words floated down to them. “We need to move.”

Thankfully, the crowd was engulfing them now. Evalle told Lanna, “Cloak yourself and follow us.”

Lanna’s glazed look finally cleared. “Not possible yet. I must rest.”

Evalle stood up, asking Storm, “Can you do something?”

“Yes, but I need to limit using my powers, since I might need them to heal you.” He told Lanna, “We’re going to go over to the stands and find a place to put you. Walk between me and Evalle. Don’t look at anyone or say anything.”

“I understand.”

At his nod, Evalle led the way through the crowd, sure that Storm kept Lanna sandwiched between them. To draw attention away from Lanna, Evalle lifted her hands from time to time, which did two things. Her sleeves caught the light, practically blinding some people, and others took a step away each time, suspicious of anyone with powers moving their hands around.

When they reached a wide opening between stadium seats, a pair of cookie-cutter young men with short silver hair, wearing identical baggy orange pants and yellow jackets with no shirt beneath, offered action for those wanting to place wagers on the first fight.

A cylindrical scoreboard hung over one of the battle zones with a glowing sign that indicated Battle Theater One. Odds flashed on the board for each opponent in the first five matches.