Keeping his eyes on Evalle the whole time, he swung the woman in a backhand motion against the truck. Her head bounced with a sickening crack. Knocked her out cold. He grabbed his crotch and gave Evalle a smile lacking upper teeth on one side of his mouth. “Keep coming, sugar. I’ll make you beg for it.”
Evalle fisted her hands so hard the burn of cartilage rippled along her forearms in advance of shifting into battle form. Beladors stopped changing at that point, but for her battle form was just the first step in morphing into the Alterant beast state.Can’t do that.
She had to calm down and not let him bait her.
She held all the power cards. He was just a human.
With one deep breath, she pulled her body back under control and gave him a cocky lift of her eyebrow. “No, I think I’ll make you beg for death instead.”
His kneecaps would be the first to go. That should slow him down for the police.
He continued grinning at her as if she was the idiot here. “Not the way I see it. They said I could—”
The guy’s eyes bulged and he doubled over, mouth sucking for air, then he collapsed on top of the woman.
Heart attack? Nice to have some good luck for once. She muttered, “Adios, you miserable excuse for a human.”
Now she could leave this for Tzader to handle.
Something dropped over her head and shoulders.
Everything went black. The stench of rotten limes clogged her next breath. Noirre majik.
Ambush.
FOUR
Evalle struck out at the spongy sack that covered her head and shoulders. Worming her forearms up to her chest, she pushed her hands out, shoving whatever covered her away from her body.
The sack stretched but didn’t loosen.
What was this stuff that wouldn’t rip or break?
With Noirre involved, she had the freedom to shift into battle form with some cartilage and muscle change that would allow her more strength. But as an Alterant she’d have to take care not to just keep on changing until she turned into a ten-foot beast with fangs and claws.
Nonhumans had ambushed her. Gut feeling? Medb, the Beladors’ most fierce enemy.
She called forth her Belador warrior form and clenched her fists against the pain as cartilage jutted a high ridge along her forearms and back.
Wait until this bunch got a load of what they’d caught.
Clenching her jaw, she put the brakes on any further change.
“Well, well, well,” a raspy male voice said, his words getting louder as he approached. “That cloaking spell was worth the money, wouldn’t you say, boys?”
With her senses wide open, Evalle picked up on each of the “boys” as they moved toward her, like reading incoming enemy blips on a radar screen. Her empathic ability had been inconsistent at times, evolving, but right now it kicked into high gear. She detected three emotions—one cold as a dead fish, one trying to hide his terror and one excited, lusting for a kill.
“Gotta make sure we got the right one before we hand her over,” the same guy said, the one she’d figured out had the cold soul. Must be the leader. He added, “If she’s the one, we’re set for life.”
Evalle needed the blades hidden around the soles of her boots, but she’d have to cover the noise of releasing them when she stomped her feet. She taunted her kidnappers with, “Only a coward would be unwilling to fight me fair and—”
A boot slammed her in the stomach.
She sucked air for a moment, but grunting and stepping back to keep her balance gave her the perfect cover for stomping her boots against the pavement.
Two men chuckled. One smelled of tobacco and breathed like a winded racehorse.
The web sack hugged her body to her thighs. Did they think they could contain her in a bag?
