Demon Storm: Belador book 5 (32 page)

“Here they come,” Storm murmured in a bitter tone.

Evalle turned as ten royal guards converged on them.

Thankfully, she recognized the guy she’d seen inside the castle protecting Brina in the past. “Hi, Allyn.”

The head of the royal guard gave an order to stand down and every sword pulled back. Allyn addressed Evalle. “It’s good to see you, but you’re cutting it close.”

She didn’t react to his words. He wasn’t chastising her so much as giving voice to the frustration everyone felt. What she took away from that statement was that Brina still had time. “I know. We’d have come sooner if it was possible.”

Allyn nodded and waved his hand that opened a path to the castle as he turned and strode ahead of them.

Storm fell into step next to Evalle, whispering, “Thought you were stronger here. What about healing?”

Her stupid heart thumped at any sign of concern on his part, but she was learning not to read what she wanted into his words or actions. “I’m working on it.”

She tried to call up her beast again, but no energy surged through her as a sign of rising to heal her. It felt like nothing more than her beast being jostled from slumber. She drew hard again. Little by little, power seeped into her body. She sent the first healing arc to her stomach and could feel every little repair being performed at a tedious pace.

By the time she reached the castle steps, her abdomen no longer ached viciously. Not entirely healed, but it felt free of poison. She could breathe more easily. Now, if she could only repair her finger that throbbed like crazy from the bone still being exposed. But that was all the help she could ask of her beast for now.

Storm reached the top step and turned to block Evalle’s way. “Why can’t you heal?”

How had he figured out she couldn’t do it all? Was he tapping his empathic senses? “I’ve repaired my stomach. My hand will have to wait for another wave of energy.”

“Let me see your finger.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Allyn called, “Evalle, are you coming?”

She folded her arms, hiding her finger. “I need you to use every ounce of whatever you can call up to help Brina. If that doesn’t work, losing my finger will be the least of my worries.”

“
Evalle!”
 

She stepped past Storm into the foyer to find Tzader rushing toward her. The foyer had been repaired to the point there was no sign of the battle that had been fought between two gryphons in here just days ago.

Evalle had been one and she’d faced Boomer, the largest of the gryphons when they’d all left the Medb tower to attack Treoir. The moment Kizira died, Boomer became the most powerful gryphon of the flock, which meant no one held control over him. Boomer had been determined to reach the river of immortality beneath the castle.

Evalle hadn’t gone along with that plan, and Boomer’s bid for living eternally had fallen victim to having his head cut off.

Then Tzader had broken through a ward that killed immortals. He’d survived when Evalle linked with him, but he wasn’t fully recovered yet.

He’d never looked so awful. His eyes were sunken from lack of sleep and he was losing body mass. He ignored Allyn and ordered the guards at the door to return to duty before Tzader told Evalle, “We’re down to minutes.” 

“I’m sorry. Getting here was complicated.”

Tzader waved her apology off. “Don’t worry about it, but first, I–”  He looked over his shoulder until that guard Allyn walked away. Once Tzader was alone with Evalle and Storm, he continued in a hurry. “Brina’s hologram is almost completely gone. The only thing left is her eyes, nose and forehead.”

Evalle’s skin tingled with fear. She looked at Storm. “Can you work with that?”

“Is there anything else left to indicate where her body stood besides that part of her face?” he asked Tzader.

“Yes, but that’s why I came to talk to you first. The Noirre majik thrown on her turned into threads that wrapped the hologram. Now it’s just her partial face and those threads shaped like her body.”Storm nodded, letting Tzader continue.

“There’s a problem with the Noirre threads. When Quinn and I each touched them we became aggressive and had control issues.”

Evalle interjected, “You mean right before I left when it looked like you two were going to tear each other apart?”

“Exactly. The Noirre caused Garwyli to react so badly he was yelling at Macha.”

Storm asked, “Who’s Garwyli?”

Evalle answered, “The oldest druid of the Beladors. Of all our druids, he’s the most formidable but he would normally never lose his composure around Macha.”

“Right,” Tzader said, still talking faster than the Maistir she’d known for years. “The Noirre affected all of us adversely. If I hadn’t stopped Macha from touching it, we might be tiny bits floating in the universe by now.”

Tzader paused only long enough for his throat to roll with a hard swallow. “Standing in the room with Brina’s hologram is fine, but touching it causes a combustible reaction. I know Storm has used his Navajo powers to soothe you and I’m hoping he has enough of that juice to prevent the Noirre from triggering aggression in him.” 

At the abrupt silence that followed, Tzader frowned over at Storm. “Why are you wearing sunglasses?”

Oh, hell. Evalle couldn’t dodge the truth. “Storm, would you please take off your glasses?”

He lifted them off his face.

“What the fuck?”

That’s pretty much what Evalle had expected Tzader to say.

Evalle said, “I’ll explain it later, but Storm was tricked into going to Mitnal where this happened. He’s still our only hope.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tzader bellowed.

“Might as well let me try,” Storm offered.

Evalle assessed the situation and came up with a new disaster. She asked Storm, “What if the Noirre harms you?”

Storm snorted. “I might not be able to break the spell, but Noirre can’t break me either.”

That sounded encouraging.

Tzader covered his eyes for a second then dropped his hand. “Yeah, but Macha might kill you on the spot even if I try to stop her.”

“I know,” Storm answered with too much confidence.

That’s when Evalle realized why Storm had been willing to come here without an argument. No, he’d actually
wanted
to come here. She turned on him. “You expect her to kill you.”

Storm’s burning gaze met hers. “You can’t do it.” 

Before Evalle could respond, Macha’s voice boomed through the castle.
“Get. In. Here. Now!”

Tzader took off toward the solarium at a dead run.

Evalle did her best to reach Brina’s sunroom before Storm, but he still managed to step in ahead of her and position himself between Evalle and Macha’s back.

The goddess faced the hologram, blocking their view.

Evalle circled Storm to stand next to Macha. When the goddess turned to Evalle, she said, “We need Brina now more than we ever have.”

Licking her dry lips, Evalle said, “I understand. I’m going to ask you to trust me.”

“Why?” Macha started to turn.

“Wait. Please.”  Once Macha stilled, Evalle explained, “I need you to trust that I’m always going to work in the best interest of the Beladors. Brina is probably a minute from slipping out of our reach. I brought someone who’s willing to put his life at risk to help us, but I want your promise you won’t harm him while he’s helping us with Brina.”

“
Evalle!”
Storm warned.

“
Silence!”
Evalle shouted right back.

He pressed his lips tight.

This master thing had its upside.

“Done,” Macha said. “Now hurry up and do something.”

A swirl of light appeared on the other side of the hologram. Garwyli had joined them. “My apologies for my earlier lack of respect, Goddess.”

Macha waved it off. “I’ve been informed of how the Noirre influenced you. Apology accepted. No more discussion from anyone until we deal with Brina.”

Garwyli must have bad hearing. He spoke up again. “I am glad to see you took my advice, no matter how inappropriately it was offered.”  His gaze tracked past Macha.

The goddess turned, following the direction of Garwyli’s gaze, and got a good look at the Demon Storm.

Evalle rushed to intervene. “If everyone will step back as far as you can, Storm can get started.” Doing what, she had no idea, but hoped he was feeling inspired.

Macha’s hair had been calm, but now it flew wildly around her head, the colors radiating from vivid reds to glaring blond. She literally shook with leashed power and turned a glare on Evalle that should have singed her eyelashes. “Just to be clear on our agreement. I won’t touch him until Brina is back or gone for good.”

Crap. Evalle should have had a chance to phone a friend whenever she made deals with Macha.

Tzader shouted, “
Do something!
Brina just lost half her forehead.”

Everyone went into position as if choreographed.

Storm stepped up to the twisted green threads and opened his arms, curving them to wrap around the hologram, but he paused before touching it.

Evalle chewed on her lip to the point of tasting blood. That took her mind off of her throbbing finger.

With his hands still hovering near the Noirre, but not touching, Storm’s lips moved silently. Was he talking to someone or having a debate with himself? Finally, he closed his eyes for a moment, gave a little nod of some sort and started speaking in a deep tone.

That was Demon Storm talking.

His body glowed. Was that what auras looked like to other people? Evalle never saw them, but Storm had a purplish glow. His guttural voice raised the hair on her arms. She cut her gaze over to Tzader who she hoped was too confused by Storm’s appearance to realize he was not hearing the voice of a Navajo shaman descendant.

Storm’s words were twisted and undecipherable.

He clenched his jaw, but kept ripping the words out as though he had to claw each one from his throat. His extended arms yanked forward and clamped the hologram, his hands gripping the form shaped of Noirre threads. The black majik came alive. Green filaments twisted and sizzled with energy. An acidic smell that was ancient and nasty filled the room.

Storm’s voice went deeper then turned hoarse and halting, each word a battle to drag out. His fingers curled tight, clenching the electric threads.

The purple glow began to dim as the threads in turn began glowing brighter every second.

Was the Noirre dragging power out of Storm?

Evalle lunged around the opposite side of the hologram and reached for his hands, gripping them tightly.

Storm yelled, “
No!”

“Yes. Do it. I believe in you.”

“Let go. My blood is at war.”

Did he mean his demon blood wouldn’t allow him to call up his Navajo powers? Or were both bloods fighting for dominance inside him? The green threads turned a brilliant hot flame blue and burned through her clothes to her skin, branding her everywhere they touched.

She could smell her body being seared. Her mind screamed to let go.

If she did, she’d lose him.

P
ain seared deep into her chest from where it pressed against the threads wrapping the hologram. Evalle shook off the battle to keep from passing out, but her body begged for relief. If that happened, she’d lose her grip on Storm’s hands and the black majik locked in his blood would destroy him.

She knew it with a certainty that had to come from being his mate.

If the black majik didn’t kill Storm, Macha would finish off whatever the Noirre left of him.

Please don’t take Storm from me.

Evalle was staying with him all the way, even if he died, but her grip was slipping. The agony of being burned all over kept dragging her away, pulling her towards relief and darkness. She shook her head and fought to stay conscious.

“Let. Go.”  Storm ground out the words.

“You can do this, Storm, please,” she pleaded in a hollow voice. How could she help him reach deep enough? What would make him try?

Only for his mate will he come back,
whispered through Evalle’s mind.

Her body trembled, going into shock from being branded. She whispered, “I hurt so bad, Storm. I can’t heal. I need you to do this. I need you ...”

His body shook so hard it shook the entire hologram and he growled.

Evalle chanced a look at Brina’s hologram ... just as the last piece of the warrior queen’s face vanished.

Storm’s fingers flipped around, latching onto Evalle’s in a death grip. She gasped at him squeezing her index finger that was still raw to the bone.

The blasted threads glowed white hot.

Sweat ran into her eyes and down her cheeks. She fought to keep her face away from the threads, but her lips cracked and bled from the scorching heat.

“Stay with me, Storm,” she kept repeating. They faced all or none. He couldn’t quit now.

Somewhere far away, Tzader shouted and the room rocked back and forth. This was it. The castle was going to explode.

Then all at once, she heard Storm’s voice.

Her
Storm.

He was chanting and the air filled with words that sounded familiar. She recognized some of the words from his Navajo chants.

The Noirre majik began to lose intensity. She took a labored breath and her body still hurt as if someone had shoved a hot branding iron all the way through her chest, but the threads lost their glow, turned back to green and stopped sizzling.

She could see Storm through the other side of where the translucent hologram had been. His lips continued moving and his eyes were closed.

His hands held hers.

She wiggled her index finger. It didn’t hurt.

He used one of his fingers to tuck it back in place inside his gentle grasp. Words spoken in his beautiful voice wrapped around her, soothing her burned skin.

Now cooled completely, the threads shattered, floating away from the form to suspend in the air. They poofed into dust and rained down on the stone floor.

Evalle smiled at Storm, but his face began to fog and blur until she couldn’t see him.