“I adore the city of Savannah. . .but this story reveals a side of it I’ve never explored! With incredible imagery, Love has created not just another Savannah, but another world.” ~~ Sandra Brown
Devon Fortier eased forward through pitch-black passages where death waited for foolish humans in Savannah, Georgia’s forgotten underground.
He was neither foolish nor human.
Deep voices growled up ahead in what had once been a rum cellar. The argument echoed off the packed-dirt walls that seeped water. Dank odors of rot, urine and unearthly creatures clogged every breath Devon inhaled.
Creeping closer, he made out three shapes hunched around something on the ground that cast an orange glow across the trio of predators. Two were ten feet tall. One had scaly skin and the other had pointed ears that curled up to his bald head.
Trolls.
Devon’s informant looked to be spot on about some black market deal going down with trolls in this coastal city.
The third figure appeared to be a human male of average height. But he was probably a glamour-concealed troll.
Whatever those three had pinned down snarled, “Let me go you stinkin’ vermin!”
Devon sighed, recognizing the voice. He ought to let the trolls continue.
A fourth-generation leprechaun and pawnbroker, Coldfinger had just enough majik to be dangerous. A sick piece of work the world wouldn’t miss if the trolls wanted to finish him off.
But Devon’s oath as a Belador meant he had to protect everyone—even a slimy bastard with the integrity of a jackal—if those trolls decided to chow down on orange fast food.
He moved closer for a better view.
Curly-ears held his prey in place with a four-toed foot as wide as a briefcase. He shook his head at Coldfinger. “You think faerie dust is gonna cut it? Think you can screw us?”
Trading faerie dust was illegal, but a petty infraction of VIPER laws. Not enough for Devon to risk his skin arresting three carnivorous beings. He couldn’t spend much energy on this bunch when nothing here fit the profile of a major operation.
Beladors served as one of the enforcement arms for VIPER, an international league of warriors that protected the world from supernatural predators...like trolls.
And deadly leprechauns.
“How dare you accuse me of scamming,” Coldfinger whined in a voice bloated with insult.
Devon rolled his eyes. How could someone with no conscience be insulted?
All the trolls started yelling, threatening to dismember Goldfinger.
Baldy bared his fangs. “We got you the scrying dish. Where’s the spell?”
“You lying ‘chaun.”
Devon used the cover of their voices to close the thirty feet that had separated him from the argument.
Coldfinger’s voice tiptoed up an octave with fear. “Calm down, I got it. I got the Noirre Fixit spell.”
Oh, hell, no. Noirre majik definitely fit the profile of his black market investigation. Devon had no choice but to take all of them to headquarters now...if they didn’t kill him.
Trolls were a nasty bunch who ate their opponents, which left no evidence and made it hard to try them in a Tribunal court. Devon could attempt to call in Belador reinforcements, but he had faulty telepathic ability at best, especially underground. No worries. He might have gotten shorted in the telepathy department, but his other gifts were just fine.
Besides, lowering his personal shields to call Beladors would blow his element of surprise.
Murdering trolls had no business getting their hands on Noirre majik, especially a fixation spell that could freeze a person long enough to do harm. As the deadliest of black majik, Noirre carried a high penalty for dealing, even death.
Human law enforcement didn’t know VIPER or supernatural beings existed. Handling trolls, leprechauns and Noirre fell to agents like Devon.
He paused. Most trolls wouldn’t touch Noirre since few of them were powerful enough to control it.
Ah, hell. Could these be Svart Trolls?
Only if the gods really wanted to piss on Devon’s day.
The Swedish term for black, Svart trolls were preternatural black ops mercenaries.
Reaching over his shoulder, Devon slid his short sword from the leather sheath attached to his back.
Bullets only annoyed Svarts.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find you, Lambert?” a throaty female voice called out from the other side of the trolls.
Devon stilled. No way.
He leaned right to see past the criminals. One look confirmed he had the worst luck ever handed out in this world.
Joleen Mac, a pain-in-his-ass bounty hunter whose four-inch heels on black lace-up boots boosted her height to just under six feet. Viper-tongue-red lipstick accented lips that could sink a man to his knees when she smiled—or issue a deadly spell. Black hair flashed past her shoulders, two long braids slicing down the side of her face. Scary as she was gorgeous, Jo worked for Dakkar, a rogue mage who ran a bounty hunter operation. VIPER allowed Dakkar freedom of movement as long as Dakkar’s hunters didn’t interfere with official missions.
Like this one.
Devon’s recon mission just turned official with Noirre being traded and Svart Trolls congregating. But he needed backup on this and he had no way to reach anyone from down here.
Lambert, the troll in human glamour, grinned. “Jo, baby. Good to see ya. We got business?”
“You could say that.” Joleen stepped close to the group. A tangerine glow washed across her loose-hanging rawhide coat, saddle-brown leather vest and jean shorts. She held a compact weapon with a short, squat barrel built to shoot two-inch-thick rounds that could kill a demon.
Devon had seen that weapon once before.
She pointed the muzzle at Lambert. “You’re coming with me.”
The two big trolls stared at her with bright yellow eyes and green saliva dripping from their lips. They growled low with menace.
“No, he’s not going with you,” Devon said, stepping from the shadows. He dropped his personal shields, allowing his power to radiate. Call it male arrogance, but he wanted the first shot at intimidating the trolls...and he liked the way Jo’s cheeks flared with color when his power brushed across her skin.
“Stay out of this, Devon,” she warned in a voice spiced with French influence.
“Alll-right, now we’re talkin’,” Coldfinger said, enthusiasm bubbling. “What say we all go topside, grab a brew and discuss this like sociable folks.”
Joleen kept her weapon trained on her quarry, but ignored Coldfinger’s bravado, pinning her gaze on Devon. “Lambert’s behind a contract killing of a Connecticut witch.”
Coldfinger howled. “You trolls tradin’ stolen goods?”
Lambert said, “No, she’s lying.” He sneered at Jo. “I ain’t goin’ with ya.”
“Yes, you are,” she said without a hint of concern.
Devon sighed. “No, he’s going with me.”
Jo shifted the weapon toward Devon. “We’re having a communication breakdown. That could be dangerous.”
“You don’t want to threaten me, Jo,” Devon warned. “I caught them dealing Noirre. Makes this VIPER business. Lambert’s got to face a Tribunal. That’s the law.”
All the trolls swung around to look at Devon.
Coldfinger howled again and glowed bright as a warning beacon. “You idiots. He’s Belador. Heard everything you said. Stinkin’ morons.”
Jo asked Devon, “How can this be a sanctioned operation?” Her gaze shifted, scanning quickly before a smile teased her lips. “Where’s your team? VIPER doesn’t send their people in without backup. Doesn’t want them hurt.”
She was goading Devon over how she’d used that same weapon to kill a demon hanging on his back the last time they’d met.
He owed her and she was calling in the debt.
But he couldn’t pay up right now. “I have orders to pick him up.” Big lie. “Let’s work together this time. You cover them and I’ll call in backup.”
Her eyebrow arched sharply in a saucy smirk. “What gave you the idea we were negotiating, Dev? Lambert’s mine. You can have the other two and the orange toad.”
“You can’t prove nothin’ without Lambert,” Coldfinger yelled.
Not technically true, but if Lambert was running a Svart Troll op Devon needed him most of all.
Lambert inched a step away.
Jo swung her weapon back at him. “Let’s go.”
Hellfire. Devon could use her help, but he’d just have to contain them without her. “Sorry, Jo, but VIPER laws take precedence over bounty orders. I’m taking them all in.” He turned to Lambert and bluffed about using telepathy. “I’ve already sent word to VIPER for backup. Resisting will only make it worse when you face the Tribunal. You three, face down on the ground next to Coldfinger.”
Intelligence gleamed in Lambert’s eyes. He shrugged and turned to his two giant sidekicks. “Sorry guys, I know I said this would be a quick job. Guess there’s nothing to do but...kill them!” He ducked and the huge trolls roared.
One giant rushed Devon and the other one dove at Jo.
A flash of green light burst through the room. Some kind of stun grenade? That wouldn’t stop a Svart.
Devon swung his sword in a high arc. The blade sang with sentient power, but a second flash of light from Jo caused a strobe effect that threw off his timing. He slashed across the troll’s arm and dodged the snap of fangs so close to his neck that his hair stood on end. Losing an arm didn’t slow the bellowing monster, whose armhole spewed murky-colored blood that smelled like sewage.
These ornery things were hard to kill, which was why Devon couldn’t miss again. With the next swing of his Belador sword, he severed baldy’s head. It bounced away...the only sound in a sudden brittle silence.
Not good.
Devon walked over to where chunks of troll lay scattered around Jo. So the flash had been a high-bandwidth laser? He glanced at a slender barrel camelbacked onto the demon blaster, then at the ground were Coldfinger had been. Had being the operative word.
Glowing yellow-orange embers sizzled on the dirt floor.
“Any chance that means you got him, Jo?”
“No. That’s residue from Coldfinger’s body being held still too long. He escaped with Lambert.” She stood ten feet away with her blaster hanging from a shoulder sling and hands propped on her hips. “They’ll have made it to where the tunnel dumps into the river by now. What a krikin’ mess you made of this.”
“Me? You’re the one who wouldn’t keep this simple.” He turned on her and moved forward with each word.
“Stop right there.”
Not a chance. Nothing intimidated this woman.
He couldn’t decide between wringing her stubborn neck and kissing her. Like that adrenaline-pumped kiss they’d shared the last time they’d survived a bloody battle. Was she thinking about that kiss? “With a little cooperation, we’d have hauled in all four and gotten you a nice fee for helping.”
“I don’t work for chump change...or VIPER.” She raised her weapon and shoved it into his chest. “And if you get in my way again, there won’t be enough of you left to feed a gnat.”
That’d be a “no” on her thinking fondly of their last kiss.
This woman had unusual hunting skills. And based on what he’d seen, a little majik. She could be a witch. When you moved in a world where a broad spectrum of majik was the norm, identities were tough to nail down without information.
Jo might find Lambert faster than Devon could pull together a team. He had to cut a deal for any hope of stopping Svart trolls from accessing that Noirre spell. “I get that Lambert was your bounty, but—”
#
“Not was. Is my bounty,” Joleen said, setting Devon straight. Which goddess of fate had the twisted sense of humor to stick Devon Fortier in her path again? Blonde strands fell loose from where he wore his shoulder-length hair tied back. Those dark hazel eyes were flecked with gold and seemed to maintain a perpetual anytime-is-playtime look.
A look that could make a woman do asinine things.
And make tactical errors. Like kissing Devon after their last unplanned meeting. She should shoot the cocky Belador just for interfering again.
“We can work out the money on this, Jo.”
“It’s not about the money or I’d charge you double and be done with this. I have quotas. I’m behind and need to hand in Lambert by tomorrow afternoon or Dakkar will cut me loose.” That could not happen. Dakkar was the sole person who could keep her identity secret. And he would. For a price. She couldn’t lose this gig or allow Devon to ruin it for her.
“What’s the big deal on this troll, Jo?”
“He’s not just a troll. Lambert is the bastard son of a Svart Troll and a black witch. He’s slippery. I’ve been tracking him for days.” She glanced past him. “Where’s your team?”
He gave a half-assed look over his shoulder. “Should be here soon.”
Liar. “You didn’t call anyone.” She let her weapon swing down and under her coat. “I got a bounty to pick up.”
Sliding his sword into the sheath on his back, Devon said, “Then we better get rolling.”
“Don’t make me tie you up, Dev.”
His grin ignited with lust. “We don’t have time for that, but I like the way you’re thinking.”
One round from her demon blaster and he’d be little Devon pieces. Tempting. “I’m not joking.”
His sigh accused her of being as much fun as rain at a picnic. Tough. She had been fun at one time in her life, but someone had stolen that life.
Devon scratched his whisker-darkened jaw—as unshaven as the last time she’d seen him. Did he never shave? He sighed and his voice shifted from teasing to serious. “Here’s the thing. Based on what you said about Lambert, he’ll use that Noirre spell if we don’t stop him.”
“Don’t see how theft is my problem.” She beat down her surge of conscience. Nobody would waste that level of a black majik spell for simple robbery.
“Theft? That’s a Noirre Fixit spell. Most fixation spells just freeze a human for a minute, but Noirre could be much worse.”
Could be? He didn’t know for sure what that spell was capable of? Damn him. She couldn’t let this Belador go off thinking that. “If it’s Noirre, it’s not just a fixation spell that freezes someone long enough to rob them.”
Devon crossed his arms, waiting.
She cursed herself. Why couldn’t she be like Dakkar’s other bounty hunters who put their own needs first? “Using Noirre Fixit will freeze everyone within twenty feet of a single person hit by the spell. The freeze will last approximately two minutes, but when it dissipates, the memories of every person affected or watching the spellbound area will be wiped clean. They’ll continue living as if nothing had happened, but without their memories up to that point.”
Devon’s words came out slow and tight. “I can’t share all my intel, but it’s looking like Lambert has a team here for a specific hit. Based on what I know about his ability and now about now this spell can affect large masses, I’m betting his target involves the St. Patrick’s Day Parade tomorrow.”
“Trolls wouldn’t risk exposure in a crowd that big,” she argued. “VIPER would send death squads after them.”
“But as you just pointed out, this spell comes with a memory wipe. If Lambert pulls this off, VIPER will have nothing to use as evidence.”
She considered that, not liking how logical it sounded, but she couldn’t risk her entire future on a maybe. “Why this parade?”
Scratching his head, Devon stared off, thinking. “My informant thought the trolls were here to glamour their way through the crowd to steal gold, but I ran all possible scenarios and cross referenced with any notable celebrities attending this event. I found out an Ansgar descendant is studying art here. She’s in the parade. Six members of her family are joining her tomorrow, including the matriarch who goes nowhere without wearing her solid gold Celtic choker—”
“—that holds the power to their entire Fae family.” Joleen got it.
“Right. I blew off the possibility of a troll making that, because the Ansgars always travel with security. But now that Svart Trolls are involved, I’m thinking they’re after the choker and/or the family members for someone else, because they don’t put their people at risk unless they feel confident they can succeed and the price is right. I’d like to know who’s behind this. My bet is an enemy of the Ansgars, but that doesn’t narrow the field. If that family is Lambert’s target and he pulls this off while wiping the minds of any witnesses, war will erupt between powerful adversaries once the finger pointing starts. The human world won’t be a safe place for anyone.”
Dakkar would be furious if Joleen had any perceived part in that happening, since shielding nonhuman existence from humans was part of Dakkar’s agreement with VIPER.
Pushing hair off her face, she hissed out a steam of air. How had one simple bounty gotten this convoluted? “How many people show up for this parade?”
“Close to half a million.” Devon hit her with a hard look. “And with the memory wipe, nothing would stop those trolls from snacking on a child, who would then end up on a milk carton.”
Playing hero was Devon’s job, not hers, but she’d never allowed innocent people to be hurt when she could prevent it. That would mean zip to Dakkar if she didn’t bring back her bounty. “Here’s my deal. I help you get the spell and you give me Lambert.”
Hesitation played through Devon’s face. “I’ll do what I can, Jo, but I don’t make promises I can’t keep. I’ll give you Lambert if I can and if he doesn’t die in the process.”
A dead Lambert was of no use to her. She either gambled on throwing in with Devon or locked him in a rum cask while she hunted Lambert alone. But if she lost Lambert, she’d have to live with the guilt for any devastation he caused and face Dakkar empty handed. “I’m in, but no promises from me either on what happens once we find Lambert.”
She expected Devon to agree or argue, but he just lifted the hood of his fleece jacket over his head, covering the sword handle, and led the way out.
After backtracking with him to the exit point beneath the Pirate’s House restaurant, they emerged on Broad Street. A balmy March sun had daffodils blooming and tourists crowding cobblestone streets along the historic district, clueless about nonhumans moving among them. She fell into step with Devon who said nothing over the next half hour as he led the way to Coldfinger’s pawnshop on the outskirts of Savannah. Once they’d left the dense pedestrian traffic in the city behind, he’d picked up the pace.
Joleen stayed with him step for step. She stayed in top running condition, because exiting quickly often made the difference in living to fight another day or not. The area had been abused by age. Spider webs covered steel-barred windows on shabby buildings and the homeless loitered on the sidewalks.
She mused, “Would have expected Coldfinger to be in a finer part of town.”
“Not with a clientele that shies away from crowds and humans to do business.”
Devon lifted his hand and signaled for silence as he slowed to enter a wooden shack-of-a building through a doorless opening.
She followed him in, allowing her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. Sunlight filtered through holes in the walls and ceiling, offering a dingy view of musty piles of clothes and a smelly mattress.
Did Devon know where he was going?
He paused six feet from a door at the back of the room, then crept forward.
She drew her weapon, though she’d prefer to use the wand she kept hidden along with her mage identity.
Devon eased over to stand at one side of the door where light sifted out from the bottom. He tested the knob. Locked. Before she could suggest finding another entrance, Devon moved around in front of the door, put his boot up and kicked.
Rotten wood shattered.
Joleen shook her head, muttering, “What is it about boys and kicking in doors?”
The smell hit her first, warning that the view wouldn’t be much better.
#
Devon stepped through the remnants of the door and took in the hideous scene against one wall of the pawnshop. Coldfinger was dead, frozen with his remaining arm up in defense and his face contorted with a scream of fear. Devon wrinkled his nose at the scorched sherbet ice cream stench.
Jo pointed at a pile of half-chewed orange glob that might be Coldfinger’s upchucked arm, and smirked. “Looks like Lambert tested the spell on Coldfinger. Trolls have a weak stomach for leprechaun, eh?”
Devon let the rare humor in her voice pass without comment. He had to contact Tzader. As the Belador Maistir over North America, Tzader directed a large portion of VIPER’s force.
Jo must have picked up the track of his thoughts. “If you’re thinking of calling in backup at this point, you better reconsider unless you want Lambert to use the spell on VIPER agents as well.”
She had a point, but he knew that wasn’t her real concern. “You’re just worried VIPER will pick up Lambert before you do.”
“True, but what if you call in agents, and he unleashes the spell? Svart trolls got any old scores to settle with Beladors?”
Mostly in Europe, but Devon doubted a Svart would pass an opportunity for payback regardless of where they found a Belador. “I’ve thought about that,” Devon admitted. “But even with my intel I can’t just assume it’s only a hit squad and that Lambert is only after the Ansgar family. We have to cover more area than that. And we’re not sure how long the spell will last now that Lambert is using it.”
She hissed something that sounded like a curse. There was that look on Jo’s face again, like the one she’d had right before she clued Devon in on exactly what a truly powerful fixation spell could do.
Devon needed whatever she could tell him about the spell and she needed a nudge, so he said, “What?”
When glaring at him had no effect, she finally said, “A Noirre fixation spell of that type, which can be used in volume, has a short shelf life. The spell must be contained in a way that allows Lambert to release it as needed, but he wouldn’t have wasted activating it unless he planned on using the spell again within twenty-four hours. Even if you call in VIPER, you still can’t prove Lambert took the Noirre spell from Coldfinger and you put your teams at risk.”
Hellfire, she was right and Devon believed she knew her stuff with spells. He’d love to find out exactly what Joleen was and not just because she held an encyclopedic knowledge of black majik details. Nothing about her fit the gutter profile of Dakkar’s usual bounty hunters.
Devon snapped his fingers. “That confirms my timeline for the parade tomorrow.”
She nodded then pointed at Coldfinger. “That was a message for anyone who tries to cross Lambert. The spell’s probably been working about twenty minutes because we’ve been here half that, and Coldfinger’s blood has started congealing.”
Devon glanced over his shoulder. “Got what he deserved for dealing Noirre with a troll.” He swung his gaze back to her. “Any ideas on how to find Lambert?”
She pondered her answer too long, as if debating once again on how much to share. “He’ll likely position himself in a safe place to use the spell. Knowing Lambert, he won’t risk being with the other trolls in case something goes wrong or VIPER rolls in.”
Devon had to contact Tzader, but without Jo knowing or she might disappear. And beyond needing her help, dammit, he didn’t want her to vanish. “Our best use of time is figuring out the most advantageous place for Lambert to release the spell tomorrow morning.”
Anyone watching Jo would think she might just be staring off as she processed information, but Devon could feel energy building that had to be coming from her. Energy she worked to keep contained.
What was she? Besides hot and dangerous?
Her lavender-blue eyes fluttered back to life, and that oddly interesting gaze met his. “You know the parade route for tomorrow?”
He lifted his smart phone up for view. “I can pull up everything we need. It starts on Abercorn Street near Forsyth Park.”
“Then that’s where we start.” She walked off and Devon let her lead the way.
What man wouldn’t want to follow something that fine?
He also took the opportunity to text Tzader a message. Not much for typing to begin with, Devon just punched in two words. Call me.
As one of the stronger telepaths among the Beladors, Tzader could reach across two hundred and fifty miles from Atlanta. His rumbling voice entered Devon’s mind. What’s up, Dev?
Devon didn’t have that level of ability, but once Tzader initiated the contact, Devon could respond. Have a situation we need to handle carefully. A troll got his hands on a Noirre fixation spell.
How’d that happen?
Devon explained about his investigation to this point. He finished by saying, Lambert got the spell from Coldfinger.
You bag the leprechaun?
No. Lambert tested the spell on him.
Joleen glanced back at Devon with a questioning look about his lagging behind. He smiled and held the phone sideways as if busy working on the parade route that he already knew.
She shook her head and kept walking.
Tzader said, Call me when you contain Lambert. I’ll send a team to transport him.
If only it was that easy. Devon added, One problem. I’m pretty sure Lambert plans to use the spell during the St. Patrick’s Day Parade.
Why?
Devon went through how the spell functioned, adding, Got some help from a bounty hunter. She knows her stuff.
She?
Hellfire. Tzader wouldn’t like this. Devon said, Joleen Mac.
What’s she doing there?
This is where things got tricky. Devon wasn’t sure how any of this would play out, but he still owed Jo big time and didn’t want her marked as a VIPER target for interfering. Jo was hunting one of the trolls. We intercepted the deal in progress at the same time. She’s agreed to help.
After a brief silence, Tzader said, I’ll bring in every available agent by tomorrow morning.
That could be risky without knowing where Lambert plans to release the spell. If the team is too close they could be compromised.
We’ll stay a hundred yards away. You find Lambert.
The connection died just as Devon reached Abercorn Street.
Jo waited for him on the sidewalk. “Lambert wouldn’t be down here on the streets even with a Svart team. He’d be up there.” She pointed to the rooftops.
“Then that’s where we’re headed.”
By the time Devon had walked Jo across every rooftop on the parade route, twice, Jo finally agreed with Devon on the best place to expect Lambert to show. They’d passed that spot the last time a mile ago.
The plan was to hunker down on roof of a building next to the one where they expected Lambert.
On the way back, Devon picked up a succulent meal from the Sapphire Grill. Who knew when he’d see the sexy Joleen Mac again? Looked like a good spot for a rooftop picnic. He’d like to also squeeze some information out of her, but pulling gold out of a troll’s fist would be easier. And she sounded exhausted from tracking Lambert for two days.
Plus, too many questions might snap the thin commitment of this short-term alliance.
When she finished eating, Jo frowned. “Lambert won’t arrive until he’s ready to unleash the spell...unless he comes by early to scope the location.”
“Sounds right to me.” Devon got up and stretched, taking in the city lights coming to life beneath a blanket of darkness. A yellow glow hovered over River Street where tourists and locals would soon be enjoying Savannah’s nightlife.
“You got first watch,” she ordered and leaned back, closing her eyes, not waiting for his agreement.
He considered settling down beside her to keep watch, but that might end with her waking up in his arms. Which could end in one of two ways—with him finishing that kiss they’d started the last time, or getting his head handed to him.
If he didn’t have to watch for a murdering troll, he might just risk it to taste that mouth again.
#
Seven hours later, crowds packed the sidewalks on each side of the parade walk below. For six of those hours, Devon had debated on how he could keep Jo out of danger’s way. If he so much as suggested it, she’d laugh in his face.
But that didn’t stop the bad feeling creeping up his spine.
Jo stepped up beside Devon, who leaned forward against a chest-high parapet. She looked over the edge to the lower roof of the next building. “You sure about this?”
“Sure about the location or making that thirty-foot leap the minute Lambert shows his ugly mug?”
“The jump.” She straightened and faced him. “Or aren’t you concerned about breaking both of your legs?”
Did that mean she was worried about him? He shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he liked the possibility that Jo wouldn’t like to see him hurt. That’d mean he was right to think she’d enjoyed their kiss as much as he had, but he’d like a refresher kiss to add to his collection of Jo memories.
Since she was waiting on a reply, Devon shrugged. “I can handle that jump.”
She must have read something in his face, because she scowled at him. “Is making a death-defying leap another boy thing like kicking in doors?”
Devon lifted his hand slowly and rubbed his knuckles along her cheek. “I won’t let you get hurt.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m not the one in danger of ending up crippled.”
“So you can fly?” Would he finally get to see just what kind of power she had?
Ignoring him, she shifted her gaze toward the direction of the approaching crowds.
Marching band music and crowds cheering surged from a distance. The thick of the parade would be right below them in another couple minutes.
“Where’s Lambert?” Jo wondered out loud.
“Right here, Jo baby,” Lambert said from behind them.
Dammit. Right idea, wrong rooftop.
Devon noted how Jo still leaned her arms on the short wall in front of them, but moved her fingers inside her jacket and slid out a short stick she kept hidden before turning around.
She gave Lambert a disgusted look and warned, “You’d be making a big mistake to use that spell on us.”
“That’s what Goldfinger said.” The glamoured troll produced a glowing pocket watch in one hand, thumb resting against the clasp, ready to pop the cover.
Devon considered their options. Would a field of kinetic power shoved at Lambert do anything against the Noirre majik controlled by that watch? Only one way to find out. He started to lift his hands.
Jo sighed and whispered, “Don’t.”
Did she have a better tactic? One that would stop the troll from freezing them? Or was this part of her plan to snake her bounty out from under Devon?
Decision time. He wasn’t sure he could stop Lambert on his own and his gut said to trust her. He whispered, “Okay. I’ll back you up.”
Lambert asked, “Any last words, Jo?”
She smiled. “Never assume all opponents are equal.”
“They are when I hold this. Admit it. I beat you.” Lambert lifted the pocket watch higher.
Devon tensed, fighting the urge to use his kinetics.
Jo moved so quickly Devon barely caught the motion. In the microsecond that Lambert’s thumb moved to the clasp release, Jo pointed a pencil-sized length of carved wood at him. It lengthened as she rattled off a chant.
Power met power halfway between Lambert and Jo.
The backlash of energy hit Jo and Devon. He caught her arm just before she’d have flipped over the wall and used his kinetics to shove them forward.
When the power cleared, Lambert stood frozen with a mask of shock.
What the hell? Devon stared at Jo. Wizard? Mage?
Jo walked over to Lambert. “He didn’t get a direct hit of the Fixit spell when it backlashed. Might not hold him long.”
She pulled a titanium shackle from inside
her jacket and snapped it around Lambert’s neck.
He roused, muttering, “Bitch.”
Devon clubbed the troll with his elbow, knocking the slimy bastard to the ground. Once he clamped a pair of titanium cuffs on Lambert’s wrists, Devon smiled, ready to offer Jo a celebration meal.
Then lost his grin.
She held the closed pocket watch that was still loaded with the Noirre spell.
Ah hell. “Don’t, Jo. If you freeze me long enough to snatch Lambert, I’ll have to report you...oh. Guess I won’t remember.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
With powers like hers, what was a woman like Jo even doing with Dakkar? The answer hit Devon between the eyes. She didn’t need money, but she did have to deliver a quota to keep Dakkar happy, which meant Dakkar represented a safe zone.
Jo was hiding from something or someone.
She walked over to Devon, hand extended, offering the watch. “I would never use the dark arts. Just wanted you to know I could have.”
His chest eased with relief. He took the watch from her and shoved it in his jacket pocket. “Fair enough. Lambert’s yours.”
Her voice lit with suspicion. “What about VIPER?”
“I contacted Tzader last night.”
That narrowed her eyes. “Figures.”
He shrugged. “My duty to protect comes first. I’m telling Tzader that you single-handedly got the Noirre spell back and once I had that in hand, your bounty took precedence.”
Surprise brightened her exotic gaze. “Why would you...?”
“Not bring in VIPER? Because then I’d have to tell them about your powers.” He smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Appreciation relaxed the delicate muscles in her face until she paused. “So you’re going to let me just walk away with Lambert?”
“Not exactly.” Devon stepped closer and slipped his fingers into her hair. He gave her a chance to back off as he lowered his head, but she lifted up and met him half way with a kiss of pure torment. His mouth fit hers as if there were only two in the world that matched.
The longer her kissed her, the more he wanted, but he had to let this one walk away. For now.
His body wouldn’t let him forget that kiss any time soon.
He plunged in for one last tormenting taste.
Sinfully sweet and without a chance of satisfaction.
She nipped his lip before stepping back, eyes sparking with challenge. “You think giving me Lambert pays off saving your hide from that demon.”
“I know better.” He didn’t want to wipe out that debt too quickly or he might not see her again. “There’s always next time.”
# # #
The Beladors are part of a powerful coalition of nonhumans who protect humans across the world from supernatural predators, even though humans don’t know they exist. You’ll meet Devon again in THE CURSE (book 3) and Joleen in future books, but the series is based on the lives of Belador best friends Evalle, Tzader and Quinn.
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Currently, there are five books in this New York Times bestselling urban fantasy series with more coming in 2015. DEMON STORM (book 5) continues where we left off in RISE OF THE GRYPHON with a major step for Evalle (an Alterant) and Storm (a Skinwalker/Shaman who shifts into a jaguar) that turns out like neither expects, and the Treoir Castle reeling from a brutal attack.