Blood Trinity (35 page)

Tristan strolled quietly to the street and disappeared. The minute he stepped out of the park, the buzzing in her ears subsided.

Had she been inside a warded area or some sort of spell zone? She didn’t think Alterants could do that kind of magic or disappear, but then she didn’t know as much as Tristan did about Alterants, Brina or the Beladors, because Brina had kept her in the dark about so much.

And she didn’t know how much of Tristan’s ability was due to Noirre majik.

She sent a telepathic message.
Tzader, we need to meet. I’ve got news on the Ngak Stone and it’s not good
.

Within a minute, Tzader answered,
Meet at Trey’s house. I’ll contact the rest of the team. You bring Storm
.

She’d forgotten about Storm and limped around, turning in a circle as she searched the park for him. Using her kinetic ability, she pulled her sunglasses up from the ground and put them on.

Her calf muscle ached like something was trying to chew its way out where the ghoul had stabbed her. It felt as if her skin was burning from the inside out.

The rain had died down to a drizzling mist. There came Storm down the concrete steps in the middle of the park. He jogged up to her, his face lined with worry when he touched her cheek.

She flinched when his fingers brushed her bruised face.

“What happened to you? I can feel sharp needles of pain coming off you.”

“Got stabbed in the back of my leg by something like that ghoul thing you chased. You catch him?”

“No. And he’s not the only one. I ran into three more in the park. I had to stay and watch over a human couple until the ghouls left.” Storm stepped around behind her and squatted down, gently checking her leg.

But the slightest touch sent spasms of pain shooting up her calf and thigh. “Crap!”

“I don’t like the color oozing out of this wound.”

“What do you mean? I bleed red just like everyone else.”

“There’s purple running with the blood. You could be infected by some sort of majik. This smells like spoiled oranges.”

That would be the color and smell of Medb majik. What would that do to her? “We have to meet the rest of the team at Trey’s house.”

“You aren’t walking far with that.” Storm stood up and leaned as though to lift her.

“Don’t even
think
about picking me up if you want to draw your next breath,” she warned.

“You’re so stubborn.” He didn’t try to hide the irritation in his voice. “Whatever’s in your system could cause you to shift involuntarily or kill you if it stays in long enough.”

“I’ll let you know if I start feeling twitchy.” She sounded like a snotty bitch, but she was working real hard not to upchuck.

“That’s reassuring,” he said in a tight voice. “How far is Trey’s house?”

“About a mile.”

“We’d get there a lot faster and you wouldn’t be in as much pain if you’d let me help you.”

“I can handle the pain.” Barely. “Let’s go.” She
hobbled along, trying not to think about how sick she felt. What had that ghoul infected her with?

“What’s the meeting about?” Storm asked.

“I found the Ngak Stone.”

“Where is it?”

“Worst possible place. The stone and the woman who has it are with a Kujoo warrior.” And they couldn’t have picked a worse person to take control of the stone if Tristan was successful. Had Tristan been telling her the truth about being sent to a cage
before
he’d shifted?

If so, that meant Brina could be lying to her about the other Alterants.

What about Vyan? How did he fit into all this?

She didn’t know why Vyan had tried to protect the woman from Tristan, but just the fact that the Kujoo warrior had done so made Evalle wonder if there was some dissent among the Kujoo.

Regardless, Vyan had to relish wiping out all the Beladors as much as the other Kujoo and Tristan did.

Heat crawled up her leg, tugging her awareness back to the most immediate threat. Could Medb majik kill an Alterant?

Just her suck-ass luck to be the test case.

Laurette waited for the man lying in her living room to get up and kill her.

He could do it. Thanks to her magic rock, she’d had enough vision to see him draw a sword on another guy who’d thrown lightning bolts from his fingers in Piedmont Park.

A sword. Lightning bolts from humans.

All that had been before she’d magically traveled from the park to her little cottage a couple blocks away.

She looked down at the glowing rock in her hand. Magic. She’d never believed in magic, but what other explanation was there for standing in one place one minute then showing up in another the next?

Brutus came running back into the living room, his mouth still dripping water from where he’d gone to his bowl in the kitchen. She’d freed his leash from the inert guy’s body the minute she’d gotten here, but his water-soaked body was still sprawled in the middle of her floor. Dripping all over her braided rug that had seen better years.

Grandpa Barrett would hoot over this if he were still alive. He used to tell her how life was full of magic.

That a miracle was just pure magic.

She could understand how a hundred voices raised in prayer to a higher form could result in a miracle.

But a rock?

Brutus sniffed all around the arm of the unconscious man on the floor. Then he sniffed the guy’s long wet hair also clinging to her rug.

“Careful, Brutus. He might wake up,” she whispered. She wished he would wake up so she could ask him who he was and how he’d known about her rock. And how she’d gotten home.

This guy had told her, “Run and get rid of that rock.”

After what she’d seen tonight, there was no way she’d let go of this rock. It had been the only thing to save her at the park. And who was that woman who had shown up and that other guy who’d tried to kill this one?

That tall woman had called this guy Vyan.

She’d
also
told Laurette to get rid of the rock.

The man in Laurette’s living room moaned, but the sound barely reached her ears.

Brutus ran over and jumped up on the sofa next to her, where they normally sat to listen to a television show.

Guilt started eating at her even though she’d laid a towel over this Vyan’s shoulder. Those lightning bolts had cut his shoulder and stabbed his chest. He was still bleeding.

If she didn’t stop the bleeding, he might die.

Then what would she do? How would she explain any of this to the police?

What about the rock? If the rock was full of magic, she could use it to heal him. She lifted the rock and said, “Fix this guy’s wounds.” Nothing happened. “Make him healthy.” Still nothing. “Make him go away?”

His body didn’t move an inch.

Dang, dang, dang! She’d have to do something about that bleeding herself or he was going to die.

She got up and eased over a little at a time until she was next to him, then dropped down on her knees with Brutus at her side. “I have no idea what to do with lightning bolt cuts. I need bandages and disinfectant.”

A first aid kit appeared on the other side of her. “Now you want to help?” she asked the rock, exasperated.

Inside the kit, she found everything clearly marked. Using a pair of scissors in shaking hands, she carefully cut away his T-shirt until she had the entire thing off his chest. Skin around the shoulder injury and on the side of his chest was red and swollen. She tried to be careful and not hurt him when she dressed the wounds.

By the time she was finished, sweat lined her brow, but her hands had stopped shaking. She cleaned up
the mess and deposited everything in the kitchen, then went looking for a blanket to cover him with. Not that her old house was cold in the middle of August, but anyone who went through serious injuries would be chilled from a shock reaction.

Humans would be. Was this guy human?

Her faithful Brutus hung close the entire time, giving her a sense of protection. She kept the rock close, too, but when she reached the living room with the blanket hooked inside one arm she paused before putting the rock in her baggy pants pocket so she could have a clear look at this Vyan from standing above him.

The two braids running along the sides of his angular face gave him a dangerous rogue look. His nut brown skin, shoulder-length black hair and strange accent made her think Mediterranean, but the shape of his eyes and thick lashes hinted at Chinese ancestry somewhere in his background. He sure as heck wasn’t your everyday guy.

But that beautiful chest of his could belong to a fireman or a soldier or a guy who just enjoyed working out in the gym.

She’d never been so close to perfection in a male body, or to many men at all.

But this one carried a sword that looked older than time and fought lightning bolts.

Sliding the rock into her pocket, she shook
out the blanket and covered him up to his neck. When she reached to pull a pillow off the couch, her gaze stumbled at the sword lying on the floor. She slipped the pillow under his head, then walked around the room, closing the curtains just in case anyone looked in.

The sword rested too close to him even if he was out cold.

She tiptoed over and reached down to see if she could lift the huge thing, and a sizzle of energy ran along the handle as if in warning.

Yanking her hand back, she scooted around his supine body and turned toward her bedroom, planning to blockade herself inside.

A sound from the floor stopped her.

She stood dead still, heart racing, then looked over her shoulder at her patient.

His chest moved with soft breaths, less pained than before she’d bandaged him. She must be tired to think he’d made that sound. He was too wiped out to move. “Come on, Brutus.”

Vyan stayed perfectly still until the young woman was out of the room. When a door down the hallway closed, he opened his eyes.

He had kept his eyes shut when he’d awakened at hearing her close by, telling her dog to be careful around him. He’d almost laughed when she’d tried
to get the stone to heal him, though he would have appreciated being mended at the time, since the cuts in his body burned.

That was only until this angel had ignored her fear and put her gentle hands on him. He tried to remember the last time a woman had touched him with care. Something deep inside his chest was unleashed, a yearning for what he’d once had many years ago.

Why was that angel caught in this dangerous circle of trouble?

Lifting his head, he looked all around until he saw his sword lying a couple feet away. Close enough to reach.

He would protect his angel, and the best way to do that would be by getting that rock out of her hands.

By the time Trey’s house was in view a half block away, sweat gleamed across Evalle’s face and upper body, and not just from the heat still rolling through Atlanta at midnight. Her skin pebbled with a feverish chill.

The back of her leg was on fire. Muscles twitched and curled in her body.

She fought the urge to change into a beast. Every instinct was telling her she’d heal from the wound if she did, but making that mistake in view of the team would seal her fate with the Tribunal.

She kept hobbling along the sidewalk and chanced a quick look at Storm. He hadn’t said another word after she’d forbidden him from using any majik to help her. His long fingers were balled into fists.

He must have felt her eyes, because his gaze cut over to her. “You don’t have to be in this much pain. I could ease it before you get around the team.”

“Thanks, but no.” She didn’t trust anyone to take control of her emotions or her sensory abilities. Not even someone she’d allowed to kiss her.

Did that make me a control freak? Damn straight
.

Men who offered to
take care of her
were dangerous.

The doctor her aunt had worked for had visited Evalle in the basement from the time she was eight until she was fifteen. He’d been her only friend. He’d promised not to hurt her when he’d performed her first female physical exam.

He’d said he was there to take care of her.