TWENTY-SEVEN
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.
And he hadn’t hurt her. His touch had been clinical and his words had soothed her anxiety.
She hadn’t found out he’d been lying all along until the next house call after that, a week later, when he’d wanted to talk to Evalle about her test results. Her aunt had given the thirty-four-year-old family doctor keys to her house and to Evalle’s basement room so he could make a stop while her aunt had been working in his medical center.
He’d taken that private opportunity to give Evalle a hands-on lesson in his twisted fantasy.
“You have to get the Noirre venom out of your leg before you lose control,” Storm said, breaking her free from reliving that nightmare again. “I can see you fighting it.”
Her skin was clammy and cold in spite of the perspiration. She tightened her stomach muscles, anything to keep what was fighting to get out locked down. Cartilage along her forearms hardened and rippled beneath her skin. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists until the ridges along her arms dropped back to normal skin and muscle. She’d explain the torn sleeves as having happened during battle, which was true.
“I can control myself,” she gritted out. “Tzader will know what to do.”
Tzader and Quinn were the only two she trusted not to say a word to Sen, who could use the Noirre majik infection as a way to put her into quarantine.
When she reached the walkway to the old Victorian house that Trey’s wife and sister-in-law owned, Evalle searched the group of people clustered on the veranda stretching from corner to corner across the front.
Tzader must have sensed her coming, because he and Quinn both broke off from their conversation with Trey and hurried down the steps to meet Evalle on the sidewalk.
“What’s wrong?” Tzader was staring at her, but that question had been directed at Storm.
“Not a big deal—,” she started saying, but Storm cut her off.
“She was attacked by a possessed ghoul that stabbed her. She’s got purple coming out of her leg with blood that smells like rotten oranges. Could be Noirre majik. We need to get that infection out now.”
“Where were you?” Quinn asked Storm in a voice harboring vicious undertones.
“Chasing three more ghouls. When I realized they might have been sent just to split us up, I tried going back to where I’d left Evalle, but something was blocking me from reaching the south end of the park. Someone had spelled the area to prevent anyone from interfering. I tried calling you on the cell, but it wouldn’t work. I don’t know who she battled besides the ghoul. She wouldn’t tell me that or let me touch her leg.”
She didn’t have to tell him a damn thing. “My leg’s fine and I’m reporting to Trey, not you.”
Storm turned a glare on her so hot it should have baked her face brown. “You’re getting that venom out of your leg first before you do another thing if I have to hold you down myself.”
She shoved close to him and paid for it with a sharp blade of pain up her leg. She croaked, “Try it and you’ll die.”
“You couldn’t kick a snowman’s ass right now.”
Quinn piped up. “He has a point.”
The chiding in his voice snapped her last straw. “Do not side with him.”
“We’re not taking sides,” Tzader said, but before she could feel relief at that he added, “but he’s right. We’re getting that venom out of your leg.”
She took a breath and dropped her voice. “I don’t want to tell the others about being infected with Noirre majik. They might think I can’t hold my human form.”
Storm could have busted her then, but he didn’t. She lifted her eyes to his, expecting more argument, but he actually looked … worried. How much of that was true and how much was him just doing what he’d been brought in to do?
Lucien was standing on the porch with his back to them. “We heard everything, Evalle. The only person on the team without exceptional hearing is Casper when he’s not in his Highland warrior form, but he isn’t even here right now.”
She leaned passed Tzader to see the rest of the team and Trey’s sister-in-law, Rowan, watching her from the veranda.
Oh, great, once again I’m the entertainment for the night.
“Nobody’s turning you over to Sen,” Tzader assured her.
“Not until after they find out what I know about the rock,” she said, sensing defeat hanging around the corner waiting for her.
“Don’t underestimate how much the team doesn’t like Sen either,” Quinn interjected.
“She thinks she’s the only one with Sen problems,” Storm interjected. “That everyone is her enemy except you two and she has to fight every battle alone to prove she’s as capable as she is pigheaded.”
His sarcastic dig jacked up her hackles again. She turned on him, but Tzader caught her by the arm. “Let’s get up on the porch, killer, and see what we can do with that leg.”
She hated handing control over to anyone.
“Don’t make me use my majik,” Storm warned her. “You’ve stretched the outer boundaries of my control by making me watch you limp in pain for a mile. Get up there or I will carry you.” He walked ahead of her up to the porch.
Her mouth fell open. Was Storm really that worried about her being injured?
“My, my, that’s interesting.” Quinn’s voice switched to mild curiosity. He looped his arm around her waist. “Lean on me, sweetheart.”
When she reached the top landing, Quinn swung her to the left side of the porch and settled her on a wooden swing wide enough for three people.
Rowan came to squat down by Evalle’s injured leg. “Been a long time since I’ve seen you. Sorry it isn’t under better circumstances.”
“Me, too. How’s Sasha?”
“Sleeping. Ready to have the baby. Trey doesn’t want her around any of this.”
The last time Evalle had been around Rowan was before Trey had married her sister. Of the two witch sisters, Rowan was the more powerful of the two, but they were white witches. “Can you get the Noirre majik out of my leg, Rowan?”
“I don’t know. We’re not supposed to go near any form of black majik, but that might not apply to drawing it out of a wound. Let me try to touch it first.” Rowan waited until Tzader gently lifted Evalle’s leg, then turned her hand palm up beneath the gash in Evalle’s jeans. She moved her hand up until her fingers were a half-inch away, then jerked her hand back with a hiss. “The Noirre is burning my skin.”
Trey had been watching. “What about you, Lucien? Can you draw out the venom like you pulled the insanity out of Rowan that time she was possessed?”
Rowan had been possessed by an evil spirit two years ago when Trey had battled Vyan.
Lucien said, “No, I can’t. That possession had originated with the Kujoo magician. I can’t overturn something spelled by a witch.”
Evalle didn’t miss the intimate look that passed between Rowan and Lucien for a fleeting second. Word was he did not like witches, white, black or any other kind. But he liked something about Rowan.
Storm gave Lucien an assessing once-over. “How do you know it’s spelled by a witch?”
Lucien’s face barely changed when his lips turned up with an arrogant smile. “I just do.”
Surprise lit several faces on the porch, Evalle’s being one. She’d heard that Lucien had faced off with Rowan once when she’d been possessed and had gone airborne to attack. He’d stopped her by just putting his hand against her chest, then he’d drawn the dark energy out of her long enough for her to regain control.
Rowan lifted disappointed eyes to Evalle. “I’m sorry. But if I can’t help you, maybe …” She looked across her shoulder, past the men on either side of her, toward the far end of the porch.
“Let me take a look.” Adrianna stepped out of a black shadow where she’d been standing in a corner. Apart from the team.
Evalle spoke to Tzader mind-to-mind. I don’t want her touching me.
I don’t either, but we’re out of choices unless you have an idea.
I haven’t had a reaction yet. We could wait.
But what if you do have a reaction and start changing? I couldn’t stop Trey or anyone else from contacting Sen at that point.
Fear over being touched by a Sterling witch caused Evalle to drop her vigilance against the change that still clawed the inside of her body. Her arms rippled with energy.
Rowan hadn’t noticed when she’d stood up and backed out of the way, but Adrianna paused, eyeing the skin that moved along Evalle’s arms beneath the ragged sleeves. The witch’s gaze lifted to meet Evalle’s, waiting for her to decide what she wanted to do.
Evalle licked her dry lips and came to a decision. “Fine. Take a look.”
A shapely eyebrow swooped up on Adrianna’s smooth forehead, but she didn’t respond to the biting voice. “Stand up.”
Tzader helped Evalle to her feet.
“Move over here,” Adrianna said, directing Evalle away from the swing to the center of the porch, where everyone backed up to make a circle around her. “Face away from me.”
Taking a moment to accept what she couldn’t change, Evalle inched around on her leg, which felt twice its size even though she knew it hadn’t actually swollen.
Adrianna dropped down behind her.
The back of Evalle’s jeans ripped open. She didn’t think Adrianna had touched the material or used a sharp object to rip the material. Only majik.
Adrianna’s fingers spread across the back of Evalle’s calf, and she started chanting, “Queen of dark and queen of hell, hearken to this witch’s spell …”
The burning sensation tripled. Evalle’s breaths were coming in fast pants. Her lungs were closing up.
Dots swam through her gaze.
When she looked for help in the crowd, everyone’s eyes were on Adrianna but Storm’s.
He vibrated with the effort it took him to stand in place.
Pain burst through Evalle’s body. Her arms ruptured with cartilage exploding and changing into beast form. She couldn’t stop it.
Tzader moved toward her, but Storm said, “I got her.”
He stepped in front of Evalle and placed his hands on each side of her face. “Focus on me. You will not change. Breathe slowly.”
His words mingled with Adrianna’s chanting until the sound was one constant mantra that stood as a wall against the monster stomping inside her, waiting to break free.
Energy ripped through her, jarring her teeth when she shook. She lost contact with everything. Colors showered behind her eyes. Purple. Red. Orange. Green.
Had she shifted and insanity taken over?
The colors subsided until white blanketed her mind. Warm fingers touched her skin, sending gentle waves of white to wash away the heat and pain.
When she regained consciousness, Evalle was clutching someone’s shirt. His arms were around her, supporting her weight against weak knees. She inhaled, trying to calm the trembling in her body.
Storm had her. She knew his scent. Warm, natural, earthy.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him.
He dropped his chin. “Okay now?”
“Did I change?”
His lack of quick answer and swallow told her she’d done something. “Why don’t you sit down?”
She let him lower her to the swing. Her leg didn’t throb anymore. Adrianna stood to the side, hands clasped in front of her. Tzader and Quinn exchanged worried expressions that made Evalle think they’d also spoken telepathically. But not to her.
“What happened?” Evalle had learned at an early age that avoiding the truth only delayed the consequences.
Rowan spoke up. “Adrianna drew the Noirre venom out of you.”
Evalle didn’t want to owe anyone for anything, especially a Sterling witch, but she had to give the woman her due for what she’d done. “Thank you.”
Adrianna merely gave a little dip of her head.
“What else?” Evalle asked, directing her question to Tzader.
He heaved a long sigh and looked around at the team when he answered her. “The venom caused you to change into battle form. Nothing else.”
Why had he hesitated? If anyone told a different story, Evalle would be out of time with the Tribunal and Tzader would have to stand trial right behind her for trying to suppress evidence against an Alterant.
Evalle’s pulse thumped a rapid beat. She took in each expression on the porch, every calm and understanding demeanor matching the compassion she felt coming toward her in waves, until she faced Adrianna, who merely lifted a single taunting eyebrow.
Adrianna was the one person who would not sugarcoat the truth.