Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon,Dianna Love
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Contemporary, #General
She pulled a mug out of the cabinet and started the slow process of pouring a Guinness draft between pushing pizzas into the oven and mixing Quinn’s drink.
Having company tonight after the harrowing Tribunal meeting was … nice.
Quinn and Tzader could visit her sanctuary whenever they wanted, but no others. Even after two years, she didn’t know much about their backgrounds, but she did know the one thing that mattered—that she could trust these two without question.
When Tzader had a chance to transfer her to the southeastern division, she’d accepted immediately, moving across country at night over three days. That had been five months ago. After arriving in Atlanta, she’d found a gym where she could work out and shower at night. Then, during the day, she’d slept in a climate-controlled storage space nearby, where she’d had a bedroll and a bag of clothes.
Same thing she’d been doing since she’d started living on her own at eighteen.
When she’d put them off about coming by where she’d been staying, they’d tracked her down to the storage locker.
Quinn had at first been appalled, then angry, then he’d just sighed and told her, “Prepare to move in twenty-four hours.”
Tzader had refused to even discuss another option.
She’d finally agreed under the one condition that she paid for the apartment. No charity deals and no owing anyone. She’d live in a storage room or worse the rest of her life before she’d ever be at anyone’s mercy.
No one would ever own her life again.
She’d never shared the ugly details about her childhood that drove her to remain independent.
Not even with these two men.
Quinn had assured her he had a location that was within her budget, and he’d even swap out some of the rent if she’d keep an eye on several of his parking garages.
That’s how she’d ended up in a place with all the charm of a fallout shelter, which was paradise compared to the claustrophobic hole she’d spent twenty-four hours a day in for eighteen years. She had over two thousand square feet here she could do with as she pleased. On her limited budget, that meant very little.
Eventually, she’d turn this into a true sanctuary.
If
the Tribunal didn’t decide to lock her away.
If so, Brina would put her somewhere no one could find her. Not even Tzader.
Evalle squeezed the dish towel in her hand. If that happened …
Something tapped her on the leg, breaking her out of the desperation cartwheeling through her chest.
Feenix stood there with his alligator baby tucked under one arm. His eyes drooped, a sign he was unhappy or worried.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
He leaned his head against her leg and patted her foot, something he’d done the last time she’d come home shaken up after the Tribunal had yanked her in for a meeting.
Did he sense that she was under threat?
She wouldn’t go down without a battle, but she would make sure Feenix was taken care of if the unimaginable happened and she lost.
“Everything’s fine.” She smiled to give the words a ring of truth. Reaching over to the counter, she pulled open a drawer in her cabinet and took out a foot-long stainless steel cooking spoon she’d found in a garbage can and sterilized. “Here ya go, sweetie.”
When she pushed the spoon under his nose he bit it, flipping the handle out of her hand. “Go back and keep the boys company. I’ll be in there in a minute. Okay?”
Feenix tottered away, licking the spoon he now held in one hand and dragging his stuffed animal clutched in his other four fingers.
She carried a small plastic tray with a bottle of Powerade, Z’s mug of beer and Quinn’s mixed drink into her living room. One day she’d have a television and stereo system in here, but her laptop in the bedroom and boom box in the kitchen would suffice for now.
“Get the table, Feenix.” Evalle carried the drink tray to where he pushed a cardboard box into position to act as a coffee table Tzader and Quinn could reach. “Thanks, baby.”
Feenix clapped his hands and went back to playing with his alligator.
She cracked the plastic cap on the Powerade bottle and took a swig. “Ready to catch up while the pizzas are cooking?”
Tzader sat up, rubbing his eyes, then lifted the mug and looked at the top of the beer. “Impressive. Where’d you learn how to draw the four-leaf clover in the foam?”
“Internet. There’s a YouTube video on everything.” She didn’t have to ask if Quinn’s drink was okay. He had a look of euphoria after taking a sip. “Why don’t you two tell me what you found out in North Carolina, and I’ll fill you in on the Tribunal and what Trey didn’t know about the demons, since I figure you caught up with him by now.”
Tzader’s eyes simmered with building fury, but he nodded.
“We did speak with him.” Quinn sat back. “I’ll give you what I know, then Tzader can tell you about the informant. The Alterant that was caught in North Carolina two months ago was thought to be in his late teens or early twenties, according to Nightstalkers there. He was a thief, breaking into businesses, stole a couple cars, robbed a convenience store, but nothing major.”
Evalle tapped her fingers on her knee, thinking. “Was he ever arrested?”
“No. He had an unnatural speed, like Trey’s ability, which we suspect he may have inherited as a Belador trait. The police just thought he was a professional criminal. No fingerprints, and they never caught his face on a security video. It took me a while to come up with a common denominator in the crimes until I started thinking about your aversion to the sun.”
“Was he a freak living like a vampire, too?” Evalle joked. She walked over and kicked the beanbag closer to the cardboard coffee table, then sat down on a poof of air.
“You know how I hate it when you call yourself a freak,” Quinn admonished. “But, no, he wasn’t nocturnal. The police set up a trap, thinking an unlocked car with a camera bag in the back would be an easy
heist if left alone during three days of rain. The male Alterant stole the car on day four in bright sunshine. We discovered that all of his crimes were committed only when it was daylight and not raining. A Belador on the police force who started following this case realized the perpetrator might be a preternatural being, so he asked to work the stakeout. When the Alterant stole the car, the Belador cop followed, sure he’d located something nonhuman, so he called in support.”
Evalle nodded. “That’s how nine male Beladors cornered him, right?”
“Yes. During the six hours they pursued him, the weather began changing from partly cloudy to an approaching weather front. Four of them cornered him at the back of a school on a Sunday, and the other five Beladors came when called telepathically. Before the thief realized they weren’t human cops he could outrun, he jumped out of his car to flee just as it started raining. The Beladors had linked by now. The thief was like any other panicked criminal until he got wet, then he screamed as if hit with acid. He shifted at that point, turning into a beast that ripped the head off one Belador before they realized what he was and had a chance to unlink.”
She chewed on her bottom lip, sick at the loss of life. The families whose father, husband, brother or son hadn’t come home. “How’d you find out all
that when VIPER couldn’t get anything the first two weeks?”
“Another Belador in the area heard their call for help when the Alterant started shifting and showed up after the killings, but before any law enforcement got there. He had the good sense to pull the video out of the police cars and call for Brina, who brought in Sen to clean up the mess and teleport the Alterant to a secure location. Brina told the local Belador to hold onto the video until Tzader and I showed up, since this was more a Belador issue in her mind than a VIPER issue.”
Evalle cocked an eyebrow at that. “Brina just wants to keep the dirty laundry under wraps.”
Tzader uttered a gritty noise. “Don’t get started, Eve. Brina’s first responsibility is to our tribe, which includes you.”
“Even a mutt gets a bone once in a while.” But Brina
had
spoken up for her today.
Quinn stood up and glanced down at Tzader. “Why don’t you pick up from here, and I’ll refresh our drinks.”
Tzader handed off his mug. “While we were investigating in Charlotte, we caught someone stealing from the Alterant’s booty stash. Someone with the ability to change his physical appearance.”
“A troll?”
“You got it. When Quinn figured out about the
weather, we mapped an area where the thefts took place and drew lines until we figured out a general area where they intersected. Once we had that, we started shaking down Nightstalkers and found the Alterant’s hideout in a derelict auto repair building. Before going in, we spent a week watching the hideout to see if someone was connected to him in any way. What we found was a troll who showed up on the sunny days while the Alterant was out and took a couple things like jewelry or motorcycle chrome. Never enough to make a huge dent in the pile we found, but consistent.”
“What was the Alterant doing with the stolen goods?”
“Looked like he was pawning most of it and stashing the cash in a wall air conditioner in his hideout. He had a newspaper folded to a section on custom vans, as if he was trying to get enough money to buy one.”
Evalle understood immediately why someone who couldn’t take rain the way she couldn’t handle sunlight would want a low-profile vehicle he could live in when need be. She’d have loved to own a van like that instead of traveling in late-night buses on the trip she’d taken across the country. “What happened with the troll?”
Tzader accepted his beer from Quinn, then eyed the smooth foam. “No clover?”
Quinn released a put-upon sigh and opened a
supersized Mr. Goodbar she’d splurged for, because that was his favorite confectionary indulgence. He told Tzader, “No little paper umbrellas either. You were telling her about the troll.”
Swallowing a drink of beer first, Tzader continued. “We caught the troll and threatened to alert VIPER that he had not declared his residence in Charlotte. He swore he was leaving that day.”
Evalle snorted at that. “To go home and take care of the elderly sick mother he didn’t have, right?”
“Close enough to the lies he spewed,” Tzader agreed. “We told him he wasn’t going anywhere unless he could bring us information on the thief he was stealing from within twenty-four hours. If he did and the intel was confirmed as usable, he could leave. He came back nine hours later with two pieces of intel. The troll said someone was looking for the Alterant.”
Feenix padded over and climbed onto Evalle’s lap, gurgling noises on each breath. He was a heavy little guy. Once she had him settled, she clarified, “So the troll
knew
the thief was an Alterant?”
Quinn cut in. “Not until after he’d spoken to others in his underground community and put it together. The troll was pretty shaken up to realize he’d been stealing from an Alterant, especially after word circulated about the thief killing nine Beladors.”
Trolls fearing Alterants. Now that cheered her
up, except for the downside of Sen figuring a way to use that against her. “You said two pieces of intel. Who’d the troll say was looking for the Alterant?”
“A Rak had feelers out for the Alterant.”
Just add that to the list of today’s demons, Sen and the Tribunal. She felt like the baby in a Mardi Gras king cake.
Eventually something with teeth would get her.
“What’s a Rak?” Now that she had a computer, any waking minute when she wasn’t working at the morgue or running down VIPER leads Evalle spent studying websites Z and Quinn had given her. Still, her working knowledge of preternatural beings, supernatural abilities, entities and anything related was pretty limited compared to Quinn and Tzader’s expertise.
“
Rak
is a slang term for a Rakshasas, a malevolent being or demon who can shift into any form, not just human,” Quinn explained.
“Another
demon
?” Was it a slow news week? She could hear the six o’clock anchor now.
Alterant becomes dinner at demon convention. Film at eleven
. Three demons in ten days and two of them had been hunting for an Alterant. “What happened to the Rak?”
“He fled to Atlanta,” Quinn told her. “The second thing the troll told us was that the Rak had left a cryptic message for a Belador. The Rak is the informant Tzader came back to Atlanta to meet with.”
Yet another demon in Atlanta. Three in one day
had to be a record. And this one had been looking for an Alterant, too.
Coincidences were for people with a normal life, not her.
The walls of her world started closing in, and for the first time in two years she had serious doubts over how much Tzader and Quinn could do to help her if someone was targeting Alterants … and knew where to find them. Them? Her.
But this many demons popping up in the southeast was not coincidental.
With the Tribunal breathing down her neck, Evalle needed anything this Rak demon could provide, like who knew how to find the Alterants. And maybe the origin of Alterants. Brina didn’t know how to find or identify them in human form or she’d have captured the one in Charlotte before it had a chance to shift and kill Beladors.
Evalle’s skin pebbled with excitement. This could be the key to providing the Tribunal with answers.
If anyone could pull information from a snitch, it was Tzader. Her gaze slid over to Tzader, who still hadn’t said what had happened to the Rak.
She squeezed a hand full of beanbag, using it like a stress-relief chair. “Tell me you found this Rak guy, Z, and got the information you were after.”
“Yes and no.”
Not the answer she was hoping for.