been assigned to be her partner at VIPER—a coalition of powerful beings who protected humanity against supernatural predators. But the time they’d spent together had been intense while they’d hunted the Ngak Stone, an ancient and powerful relic. She’d fought demons and Kujoo, enemies of the Beladors for centuries who had escaped their cursed life beneath a mountain and traveled through a portal to Atlanta with apocalyptic plans.
She still nursed wounds from those battles.
Storm stood three steps back with thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his nicely broken-in jeans. A casual stance to those unaware. What lurked beneath that tranquil pose could change into a deadly black jaguar. Not a lycanthrope but a Skinwalker. Straight hair the color of midnight fell around his shoulders with rebel intent. His open-collared shirt blended with the obsidian night. Brown eyes with thick lashes took in every whisper of movement and punctuated a face cut of sharp cheekbones and a square jaw.
He’d been brought into VIPER for his ability to track supernatural energy.
She had one thing in common with Storm. He was a mixed bucket of powers, too, part Navajo and part Ashaninka.
Cocking her chin up in question, she asked, “What’s up?”
“Came to tell you something,” Storm murmured, distracted.
He stepped closer to her. His gaze roamed over the side of her face where a bruise was just getting ripe at twelve hours old. His eyes lifted to hers. “Too bad we sent the Kujoo back eight hundred years. I’d like another shot at that warlord.”
“I could have done without him coming here the first time.”
If she hadn’t been busy fighting the Kujoo, she wouldn’t be facing the Tribunal empty-handed. She made a show of checking her digital watch. “If this is about agency business, save it for later or email me.”
“This isn’t about VIPER, but it’s important. I know you’re on a tight schedule. That’s why I’ve been waiting out here for over an hour.”
Storm had waited an hour to talk to her?
That was . . . nice.
She could afford a few minutes to find out what he had to say and still make it to the park on time.
He eased forward, reducing another slice of space between them. His dark eyes stirred with interest that would cause another woman with her sordid history to retreat.
Not her. She cowed to no man and, deep inside, she believed Storm wouldn’t try to harm her. And she wasn’t a vulnerable fifteen-year-old girl anymore but a twenty-three-year-old woman with Belador powers.
He hooked one long finger under the string of leather tied around her neck. “You’re still wearing the amulet.”
She blinked at his change of topics and looked down to where a silver disk the size of a half dollar hung from a leather thong tied around her neck. An intricate pattern had been inscribed inside the pentagram center. Nicole, a white witch friend, had placed an invisibility spell on the amulet before loaning it to Evalle for Storm to wear during a mission.
Even though the spell had run out last night, this thing had to be valuable.
“Glad you reminded me,” Evalle said. Dipping her head down, she reached up to untie the leather thong. “I need you to return this to Nicole.”
Storm’s fingers curled around her wrists, heating her skin.
She froze at the contact. Her pulse rocked with awareness that excited her . . . and raised nervous hairs along her arms. No matter how strong she’d become in the past five years, some things from her past would haunt her forever.
Without moving a muscle, she met his gaze with her unyielding one. “Don’t.”
He swore softly and released her wrists, muttering, “When are you going to trust me?”
Not in this lifetime.
Storm deserved someone’s trust and had earned a little from her in the past few days, but she didn’t know how to give it freely to men other than Tzader and Quinn who wanted nothing but friendship from her. Her biggest problem with them was when they
She still nursed wounds from those battles.
Storm stood three steps back with thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his nicely broken-in jeans. A casual stance to those unaware. What lurked beneath that tranquil pose could change into a deadly black jaguar. Not a lycanthrope but a Skinwalker. Straight hair the color of midnight fell around his shoulders with rebel intent. His open-collared shirt blended with the obsidian night. Brown eyes with thick lashes took in every whisper of movement and punctuated a face cut of sharp cheekbones and a square jaw.
He’d been brought into VIPER for his ability to track supernatural energy.
She had one thing in common with Storm. He was a mixed bucket of powers, too, part Navajo and part Ashaninka.
Cocking her chin up in question, she asked, “What’s up?”
“Came to tell you something,” Storm murmured, distracted.
He stepped closer to her. His gaze roamed over the side of her face where a bruise was just getting ripe at twelve hours old. His eyes lifted to hers. “Too bad we sent the Kujoo back eight hundred years. I’d like another shot at that warlord.”
“I could have done without him coming here the first time.”
If she hadn’t been busy fighting the Kujoo, she wouldn’t be facing the Tribunal empty-handed. She made a show of checking her digital watch. “If this is about agency business, save it for later or email me.”
“This isn’t about VIPER, but it’s important. I know you’re on a tight schedule. That’s why I’ve been waiting out here for over an hour.”
Storm had waited an hour to talk to her?
That was . . . nice.
She could afford a few minutes to find out what he had to say and still make it to the park on time.
He eased forward, reducing another slice of space between them. His dark eyes stirred with interest that would cause another woman with her sordid history to retreat.
Not her. She cowed to no man and, deep inside, she believed Storm wouldn’t try to harm her. And she wasn’t a vulnerable fifteen-year-old girl anymore but a twenty-three-year-old woman with Belador powers.
He hooked one long finger under the string of leather tied around her neck. “You’re still wearing the amulet.”
She blinked at his change of topics and looked down to where a silver disk the size of a half dollar hung from a leather thong tied around her neck. An intricate pattern had been inscribed inside the pentagram center. Nicole, a white witch friend, had placed an invisibility spell on the amulet before loaning it to Evalle for Storm to wear during a mission.
Even though the spell had run out last night, this thing had to be valuable.
“Glad you reminded me,” Evalle said. Dipping her head down, she reached up to untie the leather thong. “I need you to return this to Nicole.”
Storm’s fingers curled around her wrists, heating her skin.
She froze at the contact. Her pulse rocked with awareness that excited her . . . and raised nervous hairs along her arms. No matter how strong she’d become in the past five years, some things from her past would haunt her forever.
Without moving a muscle, she met his gaze with her unyielding one. “Don’t.”
He swore softly and released her wrists, muttering, “When are you going to trust me?”
Not in this lifetime.
Storm deserved someone’s trust and had earned a little from her in the past few days, but she didn’t know how to give it freely to men other than Tzader and Quinn who wanted nothing but friendship from her. Her biggest problem with them was when they
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