If Tristan was in there, she had no idea how she could pass through a concrete wall to find him or how to pull him out. She couldn’t use the same gift from the Tribunal twice, so teleporting herself anywhere again was not possible.
When she reached the track level, Storm was leaning against a section of tile-covered concrete wall where passengers waited to ride trains.
He watched her coming toward him as if he saw only her.
He had on his usual dark T-shirt and faded jeans. His midnight black hair was pulled back from his face, accentuating the sharp angles and burnished skin his Native American blood awarded him.
Four women stood in a group pretending to chat while their gazes strayed to Storm, whose powerful shoulders pulled at his T-shirt when he crossed his arms.
Feral sexuality in an untamed package.
Women were drawn to the risk.
Men allowed all that unleashed danger a respectful distance.
Two strides from reaching Storm, Evalle noticed one of the women in the foursome givinghera thorough examination, clearly perplexed over Storm’s smile for her.
Evalle had more to worry about than being snubbed. They didn’t bother her. Not really. But sending them a little push of energy might rattle that bunch enough to wipe the snotty looks off their faces.
Stormtsked at her and warned, “No playing with the humans.”
Evalle swung her gaze up at him and lifted her shoulders. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He chuckled. “Ready?”
She nodded and led the way to the service entrance, where Storm kept watch as she used kinetics to open and relock the door. Once they navigated their way back to the dark corridors, they stepped over the tracks and up onto the foot-high structure running alongside the rails. That’s where the trains pulled power to operate. She’d worried the first time Storm had stepped up on the shield that covered the power access, but it turned out to be stronger than it appeared.
Evalle checked over her shoulder to see that they were swallowed in the semi-dark area, then asked Storm, “Have you heard about the sulfur-smelling fog and Alterants shifting?”
“I saw some of the fallout on the news. The top end of I-285 is covered in wrecks. People were going crazy in some areas, shooting each other.” He walked along for a moment. “Your Alterants might be dead.”
“I hope not. I think I know where Tristan and maybe the other Alterants are down here.”
“How’d you find out anything with only three hours to rest?”
Because I slept a half hour. “Saw a Nightstalker I know on the way here.”
“Your friend Grady?”
“Yep. He said there’s a warren of tunnels and rooms down here where spirits moved to live after the Civil War. Soldiers and civilian spirits. It’s called the Maze of Death.”
Storm didn’t laugh, but he might as well have by the comical look he gave her when she glanced up at his silence.
“Hey,Ididn’t name the place,” she said in self-defense. “Anyhow, we might have lost Tristan’s trail because he teleported through the concrete wall into the maze. The only idea I have is to go back to the last spot you found his trail and see if we can find an access point nearby.”
“Why go back if he’s not there?”
“I’m considering dropping my mental shields to see if I can reach him through telepathy if Trey doesn’t interfere. But I also still have two of the three gifts I got from the Tribunal. I don’t want to use another one when I haven’t found the Alterants yet, but those other two won’t do me much good if I don’t find them.”
“What are you thinking about using for a gift?”
“Not sure. I might ask for a way to communicate with Alterants in the maze, but that could open the channel to a swarm of ghosts as well. I’m still working on it.”
Storm walked along quietly for ten steps, giving her the impression he debated some thought until he said, “I have some intel, too.”
Where had he been for the past three hours? “From a Nightstalker?”
“No. From Adrianna.”
