Blood Trinity (10 page)

“Where’s the Alterant?”

Tzader didn’t care for the way Sen always referred to Evalle as “the Alterant,” as if she was a tumor on his ass and not one of their most valuable assets. He gave the man his best eat-shit-and-die glare.

It didn’t faze VIPER’s head ballbuster one bit.

So Tzader tried a little more tact to soothe Sen’s trauma. “She’ll be here.”

“By 0700? The others are already in the war room. We don’t have time to wait on a mongrel.”

Tzader had to ride herd on his tongue, which really wanted to put Sen in his place. Tzader didn’t like him on his best day.

And this definitely wasn’t one of those.

It seriously griped him that Sen couldn’t give Evalle her due. She was twice the agent of many of them, yet Sen continued to pick at her like some inept newbie fresh on their force.

However, punching the arrogant prick in his face wouldn’t accomplish much, so Tzader changed the topic away from Evalle. “Why are we here, anyway?” If VIPER had caught wind of the Cresyl attack, Tzader was sure he’d have been contacted by Brina herself. And Sen would have teleported Evalle up here
immediately. If for no other reason than Sen knew she hated teleporting.

Worthless pig.

Sen gave him a snide once-over. “If you want to hear about the mission this morning, stay. Otherwise have Trey brief you and Quinn later. I refuse to waste breath going over details twice.” He checked his watch. “The Alterant has sixteen minutes to arrive.”

“You sure old Mickey there isn’t fast?” Tzader shouldn’t have bothered. Sarcasm was usually lost on imbeciles.

With one last parting sneer, Sen teleported to the war room, leaving Tzader alone in the sterile hallway. Sighing, he stared at the dull stone corridor that went on for what appeared to be forever. Hallways like this one formed an intricate spiderweb through their isolated haven set beneath the North Georgia Mountains. This was a safe zone for all preternatural beings, since
almost
no one could use majik or powers here.

No one except Sen, who, as a rule, was as surly as a hungover Hells Angel left naked in the desert. Sen didn’t hide the fact that he considered his position with VIPER on par with mucking out pigsties. Something that made Tzader wonder why the first Tribunal had chosen Sen to mediate between them and their VIPER agents.

Or better yet, who Sen had pissed off to rate
this assignment. Whoever it’d been, they had to be extremely powerful to stick Sen with this gig against his will.

And there wasn’t much mediating involved when it came to Sen; just hard-nosed enforcement.

He ran VIPER according to only one set of rules …

His.

Of all the wizards, shape-shifters, Beladors, empaths, witches, centaurs and a list of other beings that made up the VIPER international coalition, no one but the gods and goddesses knew what Sen was or where he came from.

Tzader’s bet was the lowest bowels of hell, but that was just his opinion.

That lack of knowledge kept agents on edge around Sen. You couldn’t even look at him and tell his genetic origins. He was like an amalgam of all races. Almond-shaped blue eyes, mahogany brown hair and possibly Nordic bone structure.

As the Belador Maistir, Tzader commanded the North American contingency, answering only to Brina and Macha. He considered Sen a peer at best, regardless of Sen’s position in VIPER. He didn’t care why Sen was stuck in this role or how much he hated it as long as Sen didn’t treat any Belador—including Evalle—unfairly.

Which meant Tzader had his work cut out for him most days.

Working his way through the tunnels, Tzader reached the checkpoint at the entrance to the cave where Jake, their resident troll, stood guard. At five feet tall, the repulsive troll might look unimpressive, but he was a dangerous beast. A ragged, unkempt beard covered the entire lower half of his face.

Tzader paused upwind from him—something everyone with a brain did. “Anyone call for clearance recently?”

Jake held one side of his headphones against his ear as he shook his square head, disturbing the shaggy gray-brown hair that’d been shaped into an unattractive bowl cut. “Got one call a minute ago, but it didn’t come through … broke up.”

A bad feeling went through Tzader. The troll was always screwing with Evalle. Jake used a façade of incompetence to cover a mean streak so wide the other trolls swam in it. But Tzader wasn’t fooled.

Jake was out to get Evalle as much as Sen was. “Thought you had the comm unit fixed.”

Jake wiped at his nose. “I did, I thought. I mean, it worked fine when everyone else came in this morning, but something isn’t syncing now. The new hydraulic door got stuck a few minutes ago, so I closed it. I can’t do anything about the audio breaking up until I get the door to function properly. Sucks really.” Jake lifted a slim voice recorder to his lips and made a couple of notes, then fumbled with the digital settings
and the keypad on a black electronic box supported by his enormous gut. “Wouldn’t have this problem if Sen would trust me to use my powers. What’s he afraid of? I’ll fart and take out his office?”

Uh, yeah, that
was
the concern. “Didn’t you once use your powers to conjure a pen and instead took out the entire northeast corridor?”

Jake bared his teeth, looking more like a hairy hog posing for a family picture than a dangerous troll from his native Jotunheim. “I can control them, I—” He stopped and angled his head to listen, then frowned.

If he was screwing with Evalle again, Tzader was going to eat troll balls for breakfast. “Put it on speaker.”

“Calm down.” Jake hit a button on his little box.

A female voice came through the static intermittently. “VIPER 66—” The next part skipped, then Tzader heard, “—caid.”

“Call sign not clear,” Jake responded in a voice washed with boredom. “Repeat—”

There was no mistaking who it was anymore when Evalle’s fury-ridden voice yelled, “
Open the wall … now!”

Tzader saw red. “Cut the shit, Jake. That’s Evalle and you know it.” And she was in mortal danger. The longer she was out there, baking in the sun, the closer to death she came. “Open the door, Jake.”

Jake’s eyes turned completely black. “It’s jammed again. I can’t.”

Tzader felt his knives rattling against his thighs as his fury mounted. The bastard could have kept the door open long enough for Evalle to get inside out of the sun. “Open the damn door!”

“I. Can’t!” Jake roared. “Why don’t you use
your
powers and open it?”

For the same reason Jake couldn’t.

No one was allowed to use powers here … except Sen.

“Get down here, Sen!”
Tzader shouted, sending his voice straight into the bastard’s head. “Kincaid is coming in hot and the door’s jammed tight. If we don’t get it open, we’re going to be scraping her off your new door.” Or worse, scraping her boiled ooze off the pavement.

Sen appeared at Tzader’s side and lifted his hand, flexing his fingers at the entrance forty feet away.

Rock disintegrated.

The whine of a high-powered engine screamed ahead of the motorcycle that pierced the dense fog hanging in place of the rocks.

Evalle came in like the Ghost Rider hell-bent for his contract holder. The front tire squealed when she engaged the brakes, laying a strip of rubber across the hard rock floor. The rear tire lifted off the ground, rising chest high, while the bike skidded the last fifteen
feet, then stopped eight feet in front of Tzader. It swung around and slammed down on the rear tire in a one-eighty Enduro finish, complete with the side stand down.

Evalle ripped off her full-face helmet and pitched it at Tzader like a sideways pass. He caught it without hesitation. She shoved a pair of dark sunglasses on her face, hiding her scary luminescent green eyes. But the glasses did nothing to conceal her fury, which pulsed through the room in sonic waves.

She snarled in Jake and Sen’s direction. “Which one of you bastards was trying to kill me?”

Jake went rigid. “Let’s not get into questioning each other’s parentage, shall we? After all, you’re the one with a faulty bloodline.”

Tzader cringed at what had to be the most blatant act of suicide he’d seen in awhile. Even a troll should know the limits of his stupidity.

But obviously Jake had flunked Survival 101.

Wet strands of black hair clung to Evalle’s neck and face where the Georgia heat had boiled her inside that insulated black suit she was forced to wear to keep the sun from searing her skin.

“Alterant,” Sen warned softly when she slammed a boot to the ground and stepped off the bike.

She pinned him with an acid-lined glare and a curled lip. “Don’t ‘Alterant’ me.” Tzader could swear he heard a “you prick” in that tone. “What
took so long to open the wall?” She stormed across the twenty-foot space between her and Sen.

“Alterant,” Sen cautioned again.

Jake swallowed hard. “We’re evaluating a new door system and it’s got a flaw … or two.”

“Of course it does. One conveniently programmed to only act up when I’m coming in during daylight hours.” Evalle stopped inches from Jake. Standing almost six feet tall in her riding boots, she stared down the guard, whose snarly attitude waned.

He shrank under her blistering glare and flinched when she lifted her hand.

She pointed her index finger at him. “You ever hesitate to open the wall for me again when I’m treading daylight and I’ll rip off your balls and wear them for earrings.” She turned away, taking wide steps on those toned legs.

It was all Tzader could do not to smile. But he couldn’t fault her for her anger. They’d come close to ending her days, and if anyone had a right to be pissed, it was definitely her.

“Like this was my idea,” Jake mumbled.

She strode to her bike. “What lazy moron thought hydraulic doors were a good idea when there’s enough psychic juice in here at any given time to move an entire mountain?”

Sen cleared his throat and narrowed a deadly look at her. “
I
would be the moron who came up with
that idea since I’m the one stuck opening it most of the time. Not like I have better things to do than play butler to VIPER.” His nostrils flared. “Good thing for you I was here so promptly, but don’t rush to thank me.”

She lifted a shoulder with indifference. “You the same person I should thank for hauling my ass in here during daylight?”

The look he gave her said it all.
I don’t answer to you and you better remember that … bitch.
“Get to the war room.” Sen vanished.

Evalle curled her lip at his departure, then smoothed out her expression as she looked at Tzader. “Thanks for getting the door open, Z.”

He inclined his head to her. “Don’t thank me too soon. I just didn’t have time to waste picking out caskets today. And speaking of your blatant death wish … could you stop antagonizing Sen?”

“Why would I ever want to do that? I’ve had no sleep in two days and he calls a red alert, knowing I’ll cook all the way here.” While Evalle kept protective motorcycle gear on her bike, it was black to help her blend in with the night, which was when she was out and about. Not the coolest color to wear in full sun. And she couldn’t ventilate it, because any bit of daylight on her skin bubbled it.

Unzipping her black jacket, she discarded the suffocating outer layer, leaving on her soaked BDU
shirt and damp jeans. “So what crawled up Sen’s ass and died?”

“I don’t know. I saw Trey and Lucien here, but I haven’t been to the war room yet.”

Digging a towel out of her tank bag, she wished she could trust talking to Tzader in this place—even telepathically—but he wouldn’t want to risk Sen overhearing anything they discussed.

She whispered low to Tzader. “We need to talk …”

“Find some
thing
?” Tzader leaned heavily on the last syllable. He meant the second Cresyl she’d been hunting.

“Sort of.” She looked over at Jake, who acted as though he wasn’t tuning in to every word, but she knew better. One of his jobs was to spy for Sen. “Not here.”

Tzader nodded. “I’ll swing by your place tonight, but I’ve got to leave right now.”

She scowled at that. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in a meeting without him. “What about Sen’s powwow?”

“I already told him that I’m tracking a lead on Noirre. I could stay, but I’ve got a window of time for finding someone.” He put emphasis on “someone,” clueing her in that Tzader meant his informant.

Ah, that made sense.

Far more lethal than black majik, Noirre majik was the most ancient of all and thought to be practiced only by a few covens. The Medb being one of them.

She put her towel down. “I got you. Is Quinn privy to this mission today?”

Tzader stepped close and lowered his voice. “Yes, which reminds me of something. Keep your head down in this meeting. And you better get going. You’re about to be late.”

“Don’t worry. I’d hate to cause Sen to stroke. Then again …” Wrinkling her nose at him, Evalle grabbed a bottle of water from the nylon MotoFizz bag strapped to the back of her seat. “So why should I keep my head down? What are you worried about?”