The Curse (Belador #3)(24)
Tzader added, “I had to authorize Quinn to use extreme force on the Rías or it would have killed Evalle.”
“Understood. An’ what of the Svart? Was Quinn able to retrieve information to shed light on these battles?”
“He didn’t get a chance before the Svart died.”
Brina nodded, speaking as much to herself as anyone else when she said, “Aye, a Svart will always take his own life before allowin’ himself to be captured or interrogated.”
“Evalle actually ended up killing him.”
“Before Quinn could search his mind?” Brina sat up, fingers tense, gripping the cushions on each side of her. “What was she thinkin’?”
“She was trying to survive,” Tzader said in a voice one bump louder than Brina’s. “The Svart had a chain wrapped around her neck.”
“What about her powers?”
“She was fighting the Rías, too. She did the best she could.”
“Knowin’ Evalle, she didn’t wait for anyone to help an’ just kicked the Svart’s butt herself. You defend her no matter what she does.”
“No, I don’t.”
Brina lifted both hands in a moment of frustration, then slapped them down on the cushion again. “Is that all?”
No, he wanted to yell that this was not all. That he missed her and expected her to miss him, but he’d made a deal with Macha that he would not encourage the relationship he and Brina had shared since their teens.
His honor forced him to hold up his end of the agreement. “I guess that is all … to do with my report.”
“What else can I be doin’ for you?” she asked in such a brisk tone that it grated his already shredded patience.
“Nothing. Your Highness. Not. A. Thing.” Tzader ordered his essence to travel back to his body, which sat in a secure room at headquarters, halfway across the world.
—
“Come back in, Allyn,” Brina called out, standing up.
“Yes, Your Highness.” The man she’d chosen to be her new personal guard strode back into the room with solid confidence that matched his physical appearance. Her royal guards were all well trained and strong, and his uniform was no different from that of the others, except in the way it fit Allyn’s spectacular body.
Aye, she’d chosen a fine-lookin’ man for her purpose.
His gaze tracked over to the empty spot where Tzader’s hologram had been. When Allyn drew close, he whispered, “How did it go?”
“About as I was expectin’.” She kept her voice down and her senses alert for Macha, who tended to pop in unannounced.
Allyn asked, “Then you’re pleased?”
Brina crossed her arms. “For now.”
She’d tested the waters with this visit. The next time, she’d put the first step of her plan into action.
Tzader had best prepare himself for the battle of his life, because she had no intention of givin’ up on the two of them.
EIGHT
I should have left a clue at the Iron Casket so the Beladors would have some way to find my body.
But what clue? Evalle kept trying to think what she might have done that Tristan wouldn’t have noticed. She couldn’t have even gone to the ladies’ room in the Iron Casket before they left because Tristan would have followed her in to make sure she didn’t leave a message somewhere for Tzader.
The car she rode in took another turn in the rutted road.
She swayed toward the console on her left, the motion giving her a moment of nausea because of the sack over her head. They bounced along until Tristan finally parked the car and turned off the engine.
“Can I take the spy bag off my head now?” she groused.
“Sure.”
The driver’s door had slammed shut by the time she’d shed the black bag and could see her surroundings. Tall grass and weeds crowded a white farmhouse with faded red shingles. The dirt road to this place must have been a half-mile long, ending at this spot hidden by woods on all sides. Tristan had brought her somewhere in rural Georgia or maybe even Alabama, because they’d driven over an hour from Atlanta.
But with all the turns Tristan had taken, she had no idea in what direction they’d ridden after leaving the Iron Casket.
She hadn’t anticipated so long a drive. Tristan had better make this a quick meeting. She could get away with running late for her meeting with Tzader and Quinn, but what she couldn’t do was show up at her bike after sunrise since she had none of her protective riding gear with her. Thanks to her strange Alterant DNA, she had a deadly reaction to the sun to go along with sensitive eyes. Tristan knew about that.
So what, exactly, had her neck muscles so tense right now?
The location?
Abandoned farmhouses weren’t something to be concerned over, as a rule, unless you considered the wackos that broke into them sometimes to hide from the law. But those were generally human perpetrators. What was giving her a hinky feeling about this? Climbing out of the car, she stretched her legs and sniffed a toasty scent in the air. Woodstoves wouldn’t be unusual out here.
Tristan strolled up the weed-infested gravel path to the front steps, past bushes that hadn’t been trimmed in a long time.
A light glowed in a window on one side of the porch.