Demon Storm: Belador book 5 (8 page)

“That sucks.”

“I wanted to strangle her at the time, but she was only doing what the Medb queen had compelled her to do. Poor Kizira tried to help me at every turn.”

“I’m sorry for you and Quinn.”

Evalle hadn’t mentioned anything to Nicole before now about Quinn and Kizira, but Evalle had never dealt with someone close to her going through this kind of loss. She was worried about Quinn disappearing and never seeing him again. Nicole was the one person, other than Tzader or Quinn, who Evalle could trust with secrets.

Nicole sat up and took a long look at the house. “Has anyone besides Tzader been in there?”

“Not that I know of. I didn’t go inside after you warned me to leave everything as undisturbed as possible in case I needed help.”  The kind of help a witch with a few extra abilities could give Evalle, but staying away from the one place she could feel closest to Storm had been difficult.

Evalle came around and backed Nicole’s wheelchair out of the van, then pushed it over to a side entrance into the kitchen where no one would see her use kinetics to lift Nicole and her chair up through the open door. It took a little more effort than it normally would, but at least her kinetics were still working. Once inside, Evalle stared at the full pot of coffee. Tzader told her that when he’d first walked in, the coffee smelled like it had been freshly made.

Nicole said, “The witch doctor was in here unless Storm allows someone else with dark majik in his home.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can feel hate lingering in the air. His and another person’s, but the second one is so filled with malice that it reeks of a dark presence.”  Nicole sniffed. “Licorice. Smells like someone cooked it on a grill.”

“That would be the witch doctor he’s been hunting, because he smelled that at the beast games last week.”

“Or perhaps she was hunting
him
,” Nicole murmured as she wheeled herself forward. “Did you bring the notes with you?”

“Yes.” When Evalle had taken a couple of thirty-minute naps so she wouldn’t fall on her face, she’d slept with the two pieces of paper. Tzader had given her the notes as soon as the battle ended in Treoir. He’d come to Storm’s house searching for Evalle, and evidently he’d arrived right after she’d been teleported away and Storm had left to hunt for the witch doctor. What had happened to make Storm do that on the heels of Evalle leaving?

She didn’t know and she was afraid to let go of the two notes, her one tiny connection to Storm.

When Nicole reached the center of the living room, she angled her head back and forth, then looked over where a rug woven in the geometric Navajo pattern covered a spot directly in front of the fireplace. “He comes here to be with ... someone.”

“We’ve, uh, spent some time out here.”  Could Nicole tell what they’d been up to the last time Evalle was here? That had started out in the living room and ended up in the bedroom.

“No, someone else.”

“What?”  Evalle’s stomach dropped at that. No way would Storm have been here with another woman.

Unless maybe it had been before Evalle started coming here. But even that thought nauseated her.

“Evalle,” Nicole called out softly. “I’m not talking a human or someone that Storm was intimate with, but an ethereal being.”

Had she been that obvious? “Oh, sure, I know.”

Nicole wheeled around and rolled over to her, taking Evalle’s hand. “I also feel his love for you here everywhere. When you were here, his happiness permeated the air and the walls. I’m not sure he’s ever been really happy until meeting you because of how strong his emotions had to be to imprint on a structure. It is clear he loves you, so no matter what we find, you must not doubt him or that you are ...”

When Nicole paused, Evalle said, “I am what?”

“Special. Very special to him.” But Nicole looked away, embarrassed over something.

Special was nice, but Evalle felt certain that Nicole had wanted to say more. Nicole had never held back anything before. Why now?

Evalle let it go in favor of focusing on their task. “What can you figure out by being in here?”

“You told me Storm has a spirit guide. That’s probably who I’m sensing in this room and over here close to the fireplace. I’m going to try to reach that spirit and see if she has met with Storm.”

“Whoa, hold everything, Nicole. Storm hasn’t told me everything about growing up in South America, but that’s where this witch doctor came from and Storm was forced to fight in beast games down there. I have no idea what else went on so there’s no guarantee the spirit hanging around here is friendly.”

“No, this is a being of the light.” Nicole’s wheelchair sat in the middle of the rug now. “I have a sense of comfort in this area near the fireplace. I believe this might be one place that he meets with his spirit guide.”

Evalle glanced around, feeling twitchy at the idea of a spirit visiting while she and Storm had been naked in his house. She dealt with ghouls all the time downtown. They were Nightstalkers who would trade their intel on preternaturals and humans for a handshake with someone like Evalle. The brief connection with a powerful being gave the ghoul ten minutes of corporeal form that most of them used to guzzle as much cheap wine or rot-gut whiskey as they could find.

And if every Nightstalker she’d searched for, including her favorite one, hadn’t been hiding from preternaturals stalking the city, she might have gotten a sliver of intel.

But meeting with ghouls downtown was business, where having a spirit here in Storm’s house was too close to home.

Literally.

“What’s wrong, Evalle?”

“Do you think the spirit just popped in and out of here at will?”

“No. With Storm being Navajo, I believe he and the spirit might have a bond that allows them to communicate with each other when needed. The spirit would not enter uninvited.”

Nicole had answered Evalle’s unspoken question, which meant Nicole knew exactly what Evalle was actually asking. Life around preternaturals and psychic witches meant there were few secrets some days.

“Why don’t you light some candles and give me some time to see what I can figure out,” Nicole requested.

Evalle doubted that Nicole needed the candles so much as Nicole knew that Evalle had to do something to be of use.

Once the candles were lit, Evalle sat out of the way on the sofa, determined not to fidget. But two minutes later Nicole was still staring into the barren fireplace. Evalle lost her battle with impatience and stood up.

Nicole spun around, surprised.

Evalle held her hands up. “Sorry. I have to do something.”

“There’s nothing you can do to help me, except remain very quiet.”

“I can do a better job of that out of here.”  Evalle strode down the hallway, slowing when she reached the bedroom and stepping into it without turning the lights on. The bed was still rumpled from the most amazing night of her life.

She walked over and lifted the pillow to her face, inhaling deeply. His scent sparked the memory of being touched and held. Of Storm hovering over her, hunger burning in his eyes as he slid inside her.

Her knees gave way and she dropped to the floor, kneeling next to the bed where she laid her head down, clutching the pillow. Forty hours since she left Treoir and not a word from him or any sign that he was alive.

Tzader had to be frantic, which Evalle could appreciate since she was no longer as confident as she’d been when she arrived in Atlanta.

Where are you, Storm?

She closed her eyes, as exhausted from worry as she was from being on her feet for so long without rest. She wanted to be near Storm so much that his face finally filled her mind’s eye. He was smiling, then he kissed her the way a man did when he wanted a woman to know she belonged to him. Evalle hugged him to her, loving the feel of his long fingers on her skin. She whispered, “I miss you.”  His hands turned cold on her skin and she pulled back to see his face.

His eyes were open, but not seeing.

His body was a bluish-gray color and it floated in a haze that made her skin pebble with chill. His eyes continued to stare straight ahead at nothing. So deathly still. Then his lips moved with sounds too low for her to hear them. She moved toward him, swimming through the air.

Swimming? That’s what it felt like.

When she got within an inch of his lips, he said, “I am not coming back.”

“No!” She reached for him and he drifted backwards out of her reach. He turned yellow eyes on her. “
Go!”

She jerked awake, searching the room.

“Hello?” Nicole called from the living room. “Where are you?”

Evalle pushed up on shaky knees and dropped the pillow on Storm’s bed. The nightmare had been so real.

“Evalle?”  Wheels rolled toward the bedroom. Nicole appeared in the open doorway. “Are you okay? You’re pale.”

“I’m fine. Battle nap. Was I out long?”

“Maybe a half hour.”

Evalle walked toward Nicole who turned around and led the way back to the living room. On the way, Nicole said, “I’m sorry, but I haven’t been able to reach his spirit guide or anyone else.”

Over two days were gone. Brina might only have one more. Two at the most.

Evalle asked, “What else can I do?”

Nicole didn’t answer right away, maneuvering her chair back in front of the fireplace while Evalle stopped to lean against the wall. When Nicole turned back to her, she suggested, “I can use something of Storm’s and try to find him through astral travel.”

“No! You’re not doing that out of body thing where a witch or something worse might grab you and never let you come back.” In that moment, Evalle finally admitted the one thing she’d been avoiding.

Storm might be somewhere he couldn’t escape.

Leaning back in her chair, Nicole sighed. “I have another idea, but you aren’t going to like my suggestion.”

“Then I’ll get over it. I have to find Storm.” Yes, Brina was important and so was her Belador tribe, but Evalle couldn’t face a world without Storm.

“It might be difficult–”

Someone knocked at the front door.

“I don’t care, Nicole. Whatever it takes,” Evalle said on her way to the door. She checked the peephole to see a familiar head of blonde hair.

“Are you kidding me?” she muttered, opening the door to find petite, curvy Adrianna there. Adrianna Lafontaine, a Sterling witch who had nursed Storm back to health while Evalle had been locked away in a VIPER prison.

The Sterling name belonged to a dynasty of witches who practiced black majik.

Does my day not suck enough?
“What do you want, Adrianna?”

“It’s not what I want, but what you require.”

“Then thanks for coming by, but I don’t need anything you’re pedaling.”

“Evalle?” Nicole called from behind her.

“Yes?”

“You know that suggestion I was talking about?”

“Yes.”

“It’s standing in front of you.”

Nicole wanted Evalle to ask for Adrianna’s help to find Storm?
Oh, hell no.

D
oes my father wander through a morbid realm like this, forever searching for a resting place he’ll never find without his soul?

Storm had backed into a recessed area in the cavernous Mitnal. He’d found a spot where no demon could sneak up on him. He shook with the constant assault of icy film on his skin and a heat roaring inside his body. Hanhau kept his demons perpetually on the edge of violence so that when he pointed one at a target, the demon needed no encouragement to unleash all that pent up fury.

I can’t let Nadina and Hanhau win. I will not allow my jaguar to shift at will. I will not become a demon.

Storm had repeated that mantra over and over, but he was no fool. If he didn’t escape soon, his body would give in to the cursed witch doctor blood that had battled his honorable Navajo ancestry his whole life.

His father had traveled to South America with the sole purpose of helping the reclusive Ashaninka tribe hold on to its heritage in the face of corporate mining and farming operations threatening every inch it owned. His father had lost faith in his own people back in North America, specifically his immediate family who’d traded their heritage for money. Storm never doubted his father’s love for his Navajo people. But after years spent fighting changes that he believed would destroy all he held dear, his father had packed up and gone in search of places he could make a difference.

His father once told him, “I grew tired of fighting my own people and decided I needed to take a break and come back with a fresh outlook, so I went far away to South America and what I found rejuvenated me. The Ashaninka are kind people with no champion. I decided to be theirs.”

But a witch doctor had stolen even that from his kind father.

A swirl of energy disturbed Storm’s moment of peaceful memories.

He should have clear night vision in this dark due to his Skinwalker traits, but he stared out at pitch black.

His jaguar would be able to see in here.

Storm shook off the tempting thought.

Maybe Hanhau thought to drive him from his hole. Not happening. This was the best place to avoid fighting. That didn’t mean he had any way to prevent the threat that was currently slithering toward him.

He opened his empathic senses. Ah, now he recognized the smell and feel of the menace approaching him.

The same demon that had paused nearby a while back, then crept up close until Storm had growled in warning, sending the demon fleeing.

His growl alone hadn’t actually accomplished that feat.

In that same moment, Storm had begun to change, because his control had fractured. When he put the brakes on his change, he’d stopped as a half-formed jaguar, half-human that had been scary enough to make a demon think twice about attacking.

Shifting into a jaguar here was nothing like in the mortal world. Normally, his jaguar weighed two hundred and fifty pounds. When he’d started changing here, he could tell his animal was going to be much larger and a far more dangerous beast.

His shifting involuntarily in Mitnal would be the final victory for Nadina. Once Storm grew into a full-fledged demon, right down to the glowing red eyes, it wouldn’t take long for his dark blood to claim any ounce of humanity he had left.