Deadly Promises (30 page)

U
TAH
, B
ENEATH THE
S
ALT
F
LATS

August 2008

Uphold my vows
and die
.

Or break my vows and die
.

Evalle Kincaid had faced death more than once in the past five years, but never with so little hope of escape. A citric odor burned her lungs, confirming that Medb majik shrouded the rock walls, high ceiling, and dirt floor of her underground prison.

Grace be to Macha, Evalle still couldn’t believe one of her own, a Belador, had betrayed her.

Not just her.

Anger over the betrayal and her own stupidity for falling for this filled her deep. But she pushed it down, knowing it wouldn’t do anything except weaken her more. And right now, she needed her full sense and bearings.

Peeking carefully from beneath lowered eyelashes, she took in the other two captives—male Beladors—also held upright by invisible constraints.

A human would be blind in this black hole but her vision thrived on total darkness. Natural night vision that allowed her to see in a range of monochromatic blue-grays. One rare perk of being an Alterant—a half-breed Belador… unlike those two purebloods with their backs against the glistening red-orange stone wall.

Did those men know each other?

Did she really care? They were either allies or enemies. And until she knew more about them, they were definitely enemies.

Similar in height and size, they were different as night and day in skin color and the way they dressed. The one with nothing on but jeans had been conscious when she’d regained her wits twenty minutes ago. Completely still, he hadn’t made a sound since then—like a snake lying low until it saw an opportunity to strike. Arms outstretched and legs spread apart, his gaze now cut sideways at a rustle of movement.

The fair-haired guy on his left struggled to reach lucidity.

Being imprisoned with two Beladors would normally fill her with hope for escape, because of their ability to link with each other and combine their powers. When that happened, Beladors fighting together were a force few unnatural beings could win against.

But linking required unquestioned trust. And right now, she couldn’t offer trust so easily. Not after a Belador’s telepathic call for help had lured her into this hole—into the hands of Medb warlocks—her tribe’s most vicious enemy for two thousand years.

Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice…

Die with pain
.

Even so, could she refuse to help these two warriors—members of
her
tribe—if there was a chance to save them? Beladors were a secret race of Celtic people connected by powerful genetics and living in all parts of the world. She’d only met a few. Never these two.

But every member of the tribe had sworn an oath to uphold a code of honor, to protect the innocent and any other Belador who needed help.

If a warrior broke that vow every family member faced the same penalty as the warrior, even the penalty of death.

Evalle had no one who would be affected by her decisions—too bad her aunt was dead, but she’d still upheld her vows since the day she’d turned eighteen. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. And—until now—she’d always supported her tribe without question.

Absolute trust was expected, demanded, among the Beladors.

Were those two Beladors across from her allies or foes?

She had one chance to answer that question correctly. Live or die…

What else was new?

“Anyone know who called for this delightful little meeting?” the fair-haired male grumbled in a smooth voice born of enhanced genetics and a hint of British influence. The sound matched the urbane angles of his European face, which could be Slovak or Russian. He straightened his shoulders as if that would smooth the creases in his overpriced suit, obviously tailored to fit that athletically cut body that James Bond would envy. She’d put him in his early thirties and close to six foot three.

Bad, black, and wicked next to him might be an inch or so shorter, but he balanced out the difference with a pound or two of extra kick-your-ass muscle.

“Introductions appear necessary… unless you two know each other.” The blond guy looked in her direction, then at the other male, but she doubted he could see a thing in this blackness.

Then again, as a Belador, who knew what powers he had? That thought sent another chill down her spine.

Evalle fought a smirk over pretty boy’s dry tone and well-honed nonchalance. She’d never met a Belador male who wasn’t alpha to the core. But she had no intention of jumping in first to answer after blind trust had landed her here.

Trust had never come easy to her to begin with. She’d been a victim enough in her life, and one of these two could very easily be a Medb surveillance plant.

Tonight’s betrayal had put a serious damper on her “team” mentality and it burned raw inside her.

“I suppose I shall have to open negotiations,” pretty boy continued, undeterred by the rude silence. “I’m Quinn.”

The other prisoner still hadn’t twitched since being hauled into the cave by four Medb warlocks and slammed against the wall. He’d been the last one captured. Blood that had trickled earlier from gashes in his exposed chest was now dried… and the gashes were gone. Rumors had surfaced that a few of the more powerful Belador warriors could self-heal some wounds overnight, but she’d never heard of one healing so quickly. Odd.

His head was completely bald and sexy, that added a lethal edge to his face. Ripped muscles curved along his long arms. All that body flowed down to the narrow waist of his jeans. He cleared his throat and even that sounded dangerous. “I’m Tzader.”

“The Maistir?” Quinn’s gaze walked up and down the other warrior, sizing him up.

“Yes.”

Truth or lie?
Evalle had never met Tzader Burke, commander of all the North American Beladors. If he was Maistir that might explain why
he
was here. He would be a coup in any Medb’s career.

She slashed a look at the self-appointed cave host, waiting on Quinn to make the next move.

He shifted his head in Evalle’s direction. “I can see another faint aura glowing across from us. A woman I presume from the shape of it.”

How come other Beladors could see auras, but not her? What had she done to tick off the aura fairy?

When she didn’t pick up the conversation thread, Quinn said, “You would be?”

“Pissed off,” Evalle answered, opening her eyes all the way.

He smirked. “Love the name, dear. Should I refer to you as simply Pissed?”

She ignored his sarcasm. “No offense, I’m going to need a little more information before I’m ready to buddy up to
anyone
. Especially two who could be lying to me.”

First again to keep the ball rolling, Quinn nodded. “I had assumed only Beladors answered the call, but your aura is—”

“—not Belador,” Tzader interjected.

Quinn’s moment of hesitation spoke louder than his words. “I see.”

Snubbed again by Beladors. What else was new? Even though she’d heard the traitor’s call for help telepathically just like this pair of Beladors had, and felt the sizzle of their tribe’s connection on her skin, they still didn’t consider her one of them.

Raw fury roiled through her veins. What would she have to do to be considered one of the group? But then why was she surprised or even hurt? Her own family had wanted nothing to do with her. Why should anyone else?

Still, she refused to be discounted so easily. “You two may be able to see auras, but I doubt that either of you
see
anything else in this pitch dark. Not like I can.”

“That explains it,” Tzader murmured in disgust.

“What precisely does that explain?” Quinn allowed his annoyance to come through that time. Not the happy cave host after all.

“She’s an Alterant.” Tzader stared her way, studying on something. “The only one
not
in VIPER protective custody.”

Evalle released a sharp stream of air from between clenched teeth. “Right. Protective custody sounds so much more civilized than being
jailed
, which is what really happened to the other five Alterants. I’m not there, because I refuse to live in a cage.” She’d been there, done that, and burned the T-shirt reminder, and it would take more than the entire Belador race to put her back in one.

And she had no doubt how he’d vote if she shifted into a beast in front of him.

Thumbs down.

Yeah, the pendulum was buried on the side of them being her enemies.

Tzader frowned as he studied something. “You work for VIPER?”

VIPER—Vigilante International Protectors Elite Regiment—was a multinational coalition of all types of unusual beings and powerful entities created to protect the world from supernatural predators. Beladors made up the majority of VIPER’s force and if that really was Tzader Burke across from her he’d know the only free Alterant worked with VIPER. Might as well cop to it. “I’m in the southwestern region.”

Quinn said, “I’m with VIPER as well and was on my way to investigate a Birrn demon sighting in Salt Lake City when I heard the call. What about you two?”

“Meeting an informant in Wendover,” Tzader replied, mentioning the small gaming town at the Utah–Nevada border. “What were you doing in this area tonight, Alterant?”

Following a lead I have no intention of sharing with you… dickhead
.

When she didn’t answer, Tzader chuckled in a humorless way that brushed a ripple of unease across her skin. “Listen, sweetheart. We might have another couple hours or we might only have a couple minutes. The Medb don’t ransom. They trap, plunder minds, use bodies in hideous ways, and toss the carcasses into a fire pit. I could reach Brina even this far belowground, but I can’t get through the spell coating these walls. So there’s not going to be a Belador cavalry charging in to save us. You either join up and help us find a way to escape or prepare for the worst death you can imagine.”

As if she didn’t know the stakes…

And hadn’t lived through a fate worse than death. They had no idea who and what they were dealing with.

“I quite agree, love,” Quinn added. “I can understand your resistance to trusting anyone after being caught in this trap. I, too, want that traitorous Belador’s head as a hood ornament on my Bentley, but none of us will have any chance to discover his identity if we don’t survive and that endangers all our people.”

Evalle would give him that, but hanging here manacled to a rock wall by majik didn’t exactly instill a sense of camaraderie in her. More like, it brought back memories that made her seethe.

She held the key to possibly overpowering the Medb—a physical ability to shift into a more powerful form that might afford the three of them the combined energy to fight their way out of here. But using that ability would expose the secret she’d shielded for five years and give the Tribunal, the ruling body of VIPER, all the reason they’d need to lock her back inside a cage.

Adult Alterants did not get a second chance for any infraction. The five male Alterants with unnaturally pale-green eyes like Evalle’s had shifted into hideous beasts over the past six years and killed humans—and Beladors—before being imprisoned.

When she’d turned eighteen and a Belador druid had appeared and informed Evalle of her destiny, she’d explained how the dark sunglasses she wore constantly protected her ultra-sensitive eyes. By the time the Beladors had realized her eyes were the pale green of an Alterant, she hadn’t shifted or posed a danger. For that reason, the Belador warrior queen Brina had asked the Tribunal to allow her warriors to train Evalle with the understanding by all parties of what would happen if Evalle ever shifted.

Transforming into a beast would mean immediate imprisonment.

These two Beladors in the cave with her had taken a vow to uphold the Belador code of protecting humanity, which also meant reporting any Alterant who shifted.

Evalle had almost changed into a beast once.

Almost.

Even now, she didn’t know if she could do it and maintain control. Which meant she could shift and the Medb could still kill her.

So her only real option for escape depended on trusting these two men enough to link so the three of them could use their cumulative natural abilities to defeat the Medb.

If not…

Her choices narrowed by the heartbeat as the other two weakened, but Quinn had a valid point. She couldn’t find the one who had betrayed her and make him pay if she died in this underground prison.

“I’m Evalle. My reason for being in this area tonight is personal.” She shot her attention to the one who would clearly lead a charge against the Medb. “Got a plan, Tzader?”

“Working on it. They must have used water from Loch Ryve to coat the walls and hold the spell. That’s the only substance I’ve ever known of that can drain Belador powers. I don’t know how long we’ve been down here, but it’s probably been working on us for a while—”

“Not my powers,” she corrected, enjoying a moment of satisfaction over another unexpected difference between her and the purebloods. “I’m at full strength.”

Tzader paused for a moment, then nodded. “Good. That’s one plus for us, but we’re losing power, right Quinn?”

“Correct. I’m probably at half strength, which is why we must strike soon while we’re still capable of battling.”

“Either of you have an idea how many we have to fight to get out?” Evalle asked.

“Best I could tell, there were five Medb warlocks and the one traitorous Belador.” Tzader’s deep voice hardened on the last word. He was either just as pissed off as she was or very convincing. “Didn’t get a good look at the fifth Medb, but he wasn’t big and he wore a priest’s robe. This is a war party of hunters. If they were taking us to someone higher we’d be gone. They plan to torture information out of us or maybe use us to bait another trap. I want blood from that traitor, too, but I won’t let the Medb hurt another Belador regardless of what that bastard did.”