“I saw a low-hanging haze that covered a massive section of Virginia we flew over. A dull yellow color.”
“That’s it.”
“What—or who—is causing the fog?”
Tzader rubbed his chin and let out a weary breath. “I’d say we don’t know, but some people are jumping to conclusions about Alterants in general.”
Quinn made the mental leap Tzader expected. “Any word on Evalle?”
“Yes, but what Sen told me after the briefing isn’t good.”
“Let me guess. Mr. Charm wanted to gloat over Evalle being outside our reach right now?”
“I wish that was all. He said Tristan has escaped again.” Tzader had barely restrained himself from wiping the smile from Sen’s face.
“The Alterant we just put awayyesterday? Whose bloody fault was that?”
“According to the Tribunal, Evalle is behind the escape.”
Something vile and Russian hissed from between Quinn’s lips, sounding as deadly as Tzader’s thoughts. Quinn crossed the room and stopped next to Tzader where he stared out the window.
No yellow haze had formed in Atlanta. Yet.
Tzader told him the rest. “The Tribunal believes Evalle and Tristan could be connected to the fog, that they’re trying to build an army from the shifting Alterants.”
“That’s absurd.”
“It’s absurd thatEvallewould do this, but Tristan’s a wild card,” Tzader said. “However, none of the Alterants currently shifting have green eyes that we know of.”
“Then how can they tie this to Tristan and Evalle? Maybe these things aren’t Alterants. That’s like saying anything with a mane, four legs and a tail is a horse, but not distinguish that a zebra or giraffe might be different.”
“I agree, but the Tribunal isn’t making that distinction,” Tzader explained. “Sen indicated the Tribunal sent Evalle on a task with a time limit. Once Tristan escaped, the Tribunal issued a decree to killallAlterants on sight, regardless of the color of their eyes.” Just saying those words out loud froze the blood in Tzader’s veins.
“Bloody hell. Why don’t they send Sen after her? Even ifwedon’t know what he is, the Tribunal must, and he’s pretty damn powerful. He could find her before anyone else.”
“Sen says he’s been given parameters for bringing her back that he can’t discuss, and the Tribunal won’t touch her until her time is up. Even if Sen could go to Evalle, do you really think he wouldn’t take advantage of a shoot-to-kill order?”
“The one time Captain Dickhead could really help,” Quinn ground out. He backhanded his fist into the window frame, denting it. For someone who prided himself on maintaining control, Quinn still had a temper. “Why is VIPER letting this fog still spread?”
“Because no one, not even the deities associated with VIPER, can stop it.”
“With all the power we control in the coalition, we can’t stop this? Why not?”
That was what Tzader had been asking everyone at VIPER for the past hour. He’d even contacted Macha, who’d been unable to affect the stinking fog that continued to leach through coastal states only. “No one knows for sure, but VIPER resources are speculating that it might take either the person who created the fog or someone who can wield the same majik to influence it.”
“The fact that this fog can cause immediate aggression in humans and trigger Alterants to shift into beasts would suggest that it’s sentient.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Tzader agreed. The fog had taken on a living quality.
“We’ve got to find Evalle before someone cuts her down.”
“I know, but no one is telling us anything, including Brina.”
Quinn’s expression offered consolation. “And you don’t want to press her until we have something on the traitor to give her?”
“Not with Brina on a tear right now. Evalle needs Brina on her side, since she’s the most powerful person allowed to accompany Evalle in the Tribunal meetings. I figure if we can convince Brina that Conlan’s not a threat, and show her we’re doing all we can to find the traitor, she’ll support helping Evalle.” And maybe realize Tzader put Brina’s safety first above everything.
He’d intervened to protect Brina many times since meeting her when she was fourteen. He’d lost his heart the first time he’d heard her laugh. The sound had stayed with him like a favorite song playing over and over in his mind. She’d been laughing at how he’d missed a bull’s-eye by an inch with his knife, but she hadn’t known that he’d been practicing with his nondominant hand. He’d been so taken with her that he’d let her believe she’d outmatched him when she’d tossed her dagger and stabbed dead center.
