The Curse (Belador #3)(42)



Sweetheart? She reached up and placed her palm on his face, reminding herself that he had come back to her. Alive.

He turned to kiss her skin. “If you keep that up, I’m going to have to kiss you again,” he teased, then wrapped his fingers around her wrists to pull her arms down.

She hissed at the contact.

He pulled her wrists up into the light. “What the hell happened to you this time?”

“It’s a long story and I can’t really talk about it.”

“Why not?” Now he was angry.

Why couldn’t they both end this on a happy note?

“Because I’m doing something for … my tribe and I’m not supposed to say anything about it.” She hoped Storm didn’t read a lie in that because she’d been doing Macha’s business when she went to see Tristan, so in a warped way that was technically for the Beladors. Pulling one hand free, she reached toward her bike to grab her helmet.

Indecision shot through Storm’s gaze, but he didn’t press her for more when he released her other wrist. He asked, “What are you doing tonight when you come back out after dark?”

Going to find Isak and ask for a weapon that can kill trolls. But telling Storm that would not go well and hesitating to answer wasn’t helping.

Shaking his head, he muttered, “Still can’t trust me, huh?”

“That’s not true.” She would tell him if not for having to then explain Isak and hearing Storm rant about her meeting a man whose goal in life was to kill all Alterants. “I just have to do something for Quinn and Tzader, then I’ll be in touch.”

“That sounds like VIPER business.”

“It is.”

“Then why can’t you tell me what you’re doing?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you—”

“Right.” Frustration fueled his glare. “Let me get this straight. You don’t trust me enough to share what you’re up to, and you question me on something when I tell you the truth, but just accept it when Quinn lies to you?”

“What lie?” She shoved her helmet back over the bike mirror.

Storm dropped his chin, staring at the sidewalk. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Did you hear my conversation with Quinn?”

“Not intentionally. I was focused on tracking the Svart when I saw your bike and had just walked up when you two stopped to talk. I backed away but I can’t help that I have exceptional hearing. Forget that I said anything. I know he’s a good friend of yours.”

“What. Lie.”

He lifted a face teeming with regret. “When you asked him about seeing Kizira or if he’d told her that you could be found with Tristan back when you were in the Maze of Death, Quinn lied. On both accounts.”





THIRTEEN




Cathbad?”

He smiled at the sound of Flaevynn’s voice fillin’ his dungeon chamber, but kept his head bent over an ancient tome he was readin’ for the third time.

This had to be the one.

“Do not ignore me, druid,” she warned.

Liftin’ his head, Cathbad searched his cell, his gaze runnin’ over the wall of books, single bed and few amenities … but no Medb queen present. “Hello, Flaevynn. Why do ya no come to see me in person?”

“And risk you trapping me down there?” Her voice swirled around him. A tempting, seductive cadence that men succumbed to all the time. After more than six hundred years with this woman, Cathbad knew better. Would seem only fair to lure the witch into his dungeon an’ lock her here for a few years since that was what she ha done to him. But he could no indulge in fantasies of payback until he got what he wanted of her.

He’d waited patiently for this moment when Flaevynn had to admit she needed him or face her death. He poked at her, sayin’, “Why would I do somethin’ so foolish as trap ya down here? Does no you nor me any good for us to no work together.”

The lack of immediate response meant she probably tapped one of those long, black fingernails against the arm of her throne and fumed over the fact that she ha run out of options, an’ way out of time.

When she finally spoke again, her words were carefully chosen. “I will bring you back up into the tower if you swear to help me fulfill the curse … on my time frame.”

He’d given up explainin’ that the prophecy was no a curse, but to argue that point would only waste time an’ breath. He’d taken to callin’ it a curse just to quiet her yapping.

Acceptin’ her offer without bein’ clear on one point would be foolish. “Whether I agree to that or no, ya canna fulfill the curse without my help.” He gave her a moment to swallow that medicine before adding, “But in a show of good faith, I will tell ya what ya need to know about the Alterants if ya lift the ward on the cell and free me. ’Tis somethin’ only I know.”

Silence hushed across the cool stone walls and floor for several long seconds before she said, “Agreed. Don’t make me regret this or Kizira will pay.”

“Understood.” He had no doubt Flaevynn would sacrifice their only child for her own goals. She’d used Kizira to trap him down here an’ believed he would forfeit his daughter just as quickly in pursuit of his goals.

Sherrilyn Kenyon & D's Books