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from the conversation by saying, “Have to call Sen.”
    “Hope you get a busy signal,” Evalle quipped even though Tzader meant a telepathic call.
    Quinn muttered something like “Thanks, Z,” when he clearly didn’t appreciate being left to explain. He cleared his throat and told Evalle, “I believe EMS , my dear, is ‘Evalle missing Storm.’”
    Her skin flushed embarrassingly hot all the way to her ears. She took a step in the direction of Devon, promising, “We’re not through tallying the body count.”
    Quinn put an arm out, stopping her. “If you say a word to Devon now, you’ll only confirm his guess. As I understand from Tzader, you’ve been inquiring as to whether anyone has seen or heard from Storm. Most of the teams will think it’s because he was your partner, but a few sharper ones will suspect a more personal interest.”
    “Is.”
    “Pardon?”
    “ Is my partner.” Evalle refused to believe Storm hadn’t survived Sen’s kinetic power blast that drove his body against an unyielding wall. But had Sen known the identity of the black jaguar he’d tried to kill? She thought so, even though Storm had said he’d told no one at VIPER that he was part Ashaninka Skinwalker. He’d shifted into his animal form only to help her locate Tristan for a Tribunal hearing to decide her fate.
    Then she’d allowed Tristan and his group to walk away. She’d had no choice when she’d ended up standing between Tristan and a human black-ops team determined to rid the world of Alterants.
    That decision had almost gotten her killed, then it had landed her in a VIPER jail cell.
    By the time Evalle had returned home, Storm had disappeared without a hint as to where he’d gone beyond the e-mail she’d received that same night sent from his cell phone, which read:
    Evalle,
    I’ll be in touch.
    Storm
    That might have been comforting except for one problem. Storm had left his phone in her motorcycle tank bag when he’d shifted into a jaguar. When she’d returned from lockup to retrieve her Suzuki GSX-R motorcycle, everything was there except his phone. Until then, no one had ever been able to steal her Gixxer or take anything she’d stowed on it because of a warding that protected her bike. She didn’t think Storm had the ability. Who had gotten past the warding? She’d also searched for the clothes Storm had hidden in bushes near the Decatur MARTA subway station.
    They were gone, and so was his broken body.
    Her soul refused to accept the obvious, the logical, that if he was alive, he’d have contacted her by now. The only other possibility was that he had survived and just hadn’t gotten in touch.
    He wouldn’t do that to her.
    Quinn broke into her thoughts when he said, “Of course, Storm is still your partner. Forgive me for speaking in past tense.” He studied her with wise eyes that knew a lot more about relationships between men and women than she did. “And you are fond of Storm.”
    He hadn’t asked, only stated that he clearly understood that she had feelings for Storm. True, but what she felt for Storm was complicated, tangled with damaged emotions she waded through every time they were together.
    Storm took her flaws in stride and read her too easily at times.
    She hadn’t realized how much she’d miss him if he went away, until now.
    Every day became more unbearable.
    Quinn waited silently. He deserved an honest reply, but she wasn’t up to sharing something she didn’t completely understand, so she said, “I’d just like to know why Storm left and if he plans to return.”
    “I see.” A noncommittal Quinn comment.
    Time to change the subject. Her heart hurt too much to keep talking about Storm. “Thank you for stopping that Rías from killing me, but I’m sorry you had to use your powers that way.”
    Quinn waved it off as though he blew up heads every day, which he didn’t. Just being his usual noble self.
    “And,” she continued, “sorry I killed our best lead in figuring