The Curse (Belador #3)(84)

“True.”

“You have broken your word.”

“Not true.”

“How do you see that?”

“We agreed the mission would be completed by the end of the week. You chose no specific hour or day to draw VIPER out in the open. My trolls are on task.”

Technically correct, but still a lie by omission.

She’d agreed to those terms, but the battle strategy he’d laid out to her afterward had projected a timeline that suited her needs for capturing Alterants. Not feeding his trolls.

Humans wouldn’t notice missing nonhumans, but VIPER would.

What else had Roogre done that he’d failed to discuss with her first?

She could either stand here and waste time arguing what would change nothing or accept that few plans ever went as intended. “The turmoil going on in Atlanta at this minute forces us to expedite the timeline.”

“So we execute the second phase, the one you and I discussed … alone?”

The quelling look she gave him only raised an evil smile to his lips. He said, “Don’t glare at me, witch. You said tell no one and I’ve told no one.”

Miserable, untrustworthy trolls. She didn’t want him to even whisper about their secret meeting while inside the walls of T?μr Medb. She’d reply in a way that would dilute what he said in case the walls had ears, but once this was done, and he had the section of earth he desired, she’d never deal with such filth again.

“Everything I do is to benefit the queen. If you wish to be handed North America—by the queen—when this is done, do not say another word except to answer my questions. Understand?”

“Understood.” Roogre’s amused demeanor hid the temperament of a hungry cobra. He fingered the sword honed of a blue metal that hung alongside stubby legs in brown leather pants. Razor claws at the end of his fingers, matching those on his three-toed feet, curled with a hint of threat.

But inside T?μr Medb, only Cathbad and Flaevynn were more powerful than Kizira. This Svart might be a danger to her outside the tower, but not in her home, where her power increased. “It’s time to send in both of your demonic trolls.”

“One is dead.”

“Not possible,” she whispered, shocked. “Where? How?”

“Killed in a skirmish with a Belador in Atlanta.”

“Why did you risk sending one out?”

All amusement fled from Roogre’s face. “To find those who killed two of my trolls. Before you speak too quickly, I told you I would exact payment immediately for any troll lost while under my command.”

“You also said your trolls were practically indestructible against Beladors since they would avoid linking around a Svart.”

“True.”

“Obviously not.” Then it dawned on her. “What specific Belador killed your trolls?”

“The Alterant Evalle Kincaid.”

Kizira kept her temper under control or the air would explode with lightning. “Your trolls were to capture Alterants, not fight them, and none were to touch Evalle yet.”

“My troll intervened to stop her from killing another Alterant and had no idea of her identity when he did.”

That didn’t sound like Evalle. Sure that Roogre held back information he didn’t want to share, Kizira asked, “Was she killing an Alterant or a Rías?”

“My soldiers don’t have time to qualify a beast while it’s changing if you want these things captured instead of killed. We’ll bring you all the Alterants and Rías we find, then you can give me any you don’t keep and I’ll dispose of them for you.”

She hid her disgust at his offhanded reference to eating the leftovers, so to speak. “How can you be so sure Evalle killed your troll if you don’t communicate by telepathy?”

Roogre held up a six-inch-wide gold medallion hanging from a chain around his neck. He’d told her once that the runic S cut out of the center was used as the template for marking his trolls. “My blood is mixed with the acid that burns this emblem into the forearms of those under my command. With the exception of my Lieutenant in the field who can speak to me through my mind, my trolls can’t communicate telepathically, but I receive a visual message from them upon death. The last heartbeat of a Svart troll sends an image to me of the one who killed him.”

By the gods, she wanted to slash Roogre to pieces. “Then you sent one of the demonic trolls to kill Evalle and she won that battle, too?”

“No. A four-legged, black demon cat beheaded my troll, and he will pay with his life.”

She didn’t care how many demons Roogre destroyed, but Alterants were another issue. “You can’t kill any Alterants.”

“Why? You’re ready to implement the second phase immediately and said yourself that if it is successful, those five Alterants will no longer be necessary.”

How had she allowed him to speak so openly again? The queen believed the Svart commander’s only goal was Flaevynn’s order for his trolls to capture Alterants in Atlanta.

Giving him death-threat glares did nothing. Again, she had to cover for the words he’d spoken out loud. “The second phase is only to support Queen Flaevynn’s goal of seeing Treoir fall.”

Humor flitted across Roogre’s gaze, letting her know he understood—as well as she did—the dangerous game she played. “Don’t worry. The demonic troll I sent to Atlanta was the weaker of the two. The second one still hidden is far more invincible after having been dipped twice in Loch Ryve. I await only your word to take my strongest team to … ?”