The Curse (Belador #3)(29)

She reached toward her boot for her dagger.

Which was still on her motorcycle back at the Iron Casket.

Two warlocks in snug, black, ninja-type clothes jumped Tristan, who hit them with kinetic blasts. Barely fazed them.

Poor Sam had been snatched up and shoved against the wall by another warlock.

Evalle swung her hand in a horizontal arc from left to right. The kinetic slice had been intended to take out the knees of the warlock attacking Sam.

Her blast bounced off the Medb.

No way.

Evalle started toward Tristan, but two more warlocks leaped through the windows.

She had her own fight coming on.

Her and Tristan’s kinetics were dulled in here for some reason. A quick stomp released the blades in her boots as the last two warlocks reached her. Twisting her body, she swung her feet, cutting the first warlock’s neck. Purple blood spewed everywhere.

Tristan yelled in her mind. Link with me and I’ll teleport.

She didn’t hesitate, opening her mind to feel his power surge through her.

The second warlock coming after her had paused to shove the one with the slit throat out of his way.

Evalle stuck her arms out when the room started spinning. She experienced a moment of panic. That warlock could attack her in this vulnerable position, half in and half out of teleporting.

But he’d turned from her to face the window where the Medb priestess Kizira came floating through, landing next to Tristan. She clamped a hand on his shoulder and he screamed in pain.

Evalle jerked when the pain lashed through their bond. Her body vibrated with the teleporting disrupted.

Kizira yelled at the warlock nearest Evalle, “Stop the Alterant!”

All of a sudden, Evalle spun into full teleportation.

At the best of times Evalle hated traveling this way. She didn’t feel Tristan’s presence near her as when he’d teleported her in and out of the Maze of Death.

All at once, her body whipped back and forth like a jet gyrating out of control.

She lost the link to Tristan.

But her body still flip-flopped through space in a crazy spin. Alone.

Had he managed to send her flying before he disengaged from her? She couldn’t do this on her own, and she’d been teleported enough times to know something had gone wrong.

Please don’t send me into a solid wall or drop me in the middle of traffic or …

The calamari she’d eaten churned in her stomach. She flipped and rolled, turned upside down, then all at once … she slammed to a stop. The spinning ended. Hallelujah.

When she opened her eyes, she was down on all fours on soft ground. Grass? And the air smelled … ancient.

She didn’t want to raise her head.

Please, not the Tribunal. How could Tristan do that to her? How would he even be capable of sending her to the realm of gods and goddesses? But then she heard music in another room. Loud, synthesized tunes pounded the walls around her. Nothing like the shrill silence of the Nether Realm where the Tribunal met.

Two massive boots stepped into her view.

She lifted her head to meet black eyes.

Definitely not a Tribunal. Deek D’Alimonte, which meant that reverberating sound shaking the floor had to be music blasting through the Iron Casket.

Hard to believe, but she’d landed somewhere worse than facing a Tribunal. The gods and goddesses had laws to uphold.

Deek made his own laws.

VIPER never sent anyone into Deek’s club for intel for one reason—they would not come to save the agent stupid enough to break any of Deek’s rules. Not without declaring war.

She’d been dumped in the one place on earth no one would willingly teleport without an invitation.

Deek surveyed her with surprise. “Evalle Kincaid?”

She’d take it as a good sign that he hadn’t fried her yet, but she couldn’t answer him. Not while she kept her mouth clamped shut to keep from humiliating herself by getting sick.

He angled his head in a confused-dog look. “Didn’t I warn you about causing problems in my club the last time we met?”

She nodded, hoping he’d allow her that for a yes.

“And you know my rule about anyone using majik or powers inside the Iron Casket.”

She gave him another nod, but technically she hadn’t committed either infraction. He never said anything about teleporting. She’d point that out if she could.

Just how powerful was a centaur in his human form? Sweat ran down Evalle’s cheek and dripped off her chin.

His face tightened with fury, but his voice came out soft. Dangerously soft. “You dare to teleport here uninvited?”

She shook her head, hoping to convey that this had been an accident.

“VIPER would not question my right to discipline someone who breaks into my domain.” He’d leaned down so far his breath fired across her face. “I will allow you one chance to use that shrew’s mouth to explain why I should not rip your body to shreds and use the parts to decorate my dungeon.”

That required opening her mouth.

He roared, “Speak.” The walls trembled.

She threw up on Deek.





NINE




Pain crawled up Tristan’s arms and around his neck, twisting and biting. Phantom snakes with spiked skin squirmed inside his body. He clenched his eyes tighter.

Had Evalle escaped? Alive and in one piece?