lift it. Then he sent it flying backward with the speed of a runaway train. He gave a shout of triumph as it slammed into a tree with a crunch, slid to the ground, and fell still.
Hammer and Kalen were easily dispatching the last of the Sluagh, though the bigger man was bleeding. Seeing that the path to the front door was now clear, Aric ran, vaguely aware of Rowan racing behind him. He paused long enough to give the front door a couple of hard kicks, and it crashed inward.
Sprinting inside, he searched for the witch. The one he longed to see burn for her crimes. He spotted the white-haired man who must be Chappell running for the back of the cabin, and Rowan shouted.
“I’ll get him!” She took off, weapon in hand.
“Be careful!” He scanned the room; it appeared to be empty. Until she spoke.
“Did you miss me so much you had to come back for more?”
Right in front of him, Beryl appeared out of thin air. She hadn’t changed. Long hair flowed around a face that should have been beautiful, if not for the ever-present coldness in her eyes and the cruel twist to her mouth.
“I’m here to toast your skanky ass,” he snarled, taking a step forward.
She laughed huskily. “Good luck with that.”
Aric released his fire again, throwing out a hand. But Beryl was just as fast, uttering a word in Latin and raising a palm toward him. His flames were deflected with a roar as crimson light drove them back, the power of the clash tossing him backward. He landed hard, the hit jarring his spine, and lost his hold on the flames.
The red light enveloped him, entering his body like a million volts of electricity. He screamed, couldn’t help himself, the pain was so great. Writhed on the floor like a cockroach that had been sprayed, waiting to die and helpless to do a fucking thing about it.
Then a loud boom sounded and he was released from the light’s power. Raising his head, he saw Beryl go flying, crash into a wood-and-glass case, the kind that held little knickknacks. Wood crunched and glass showered everywhere. In the entryway, Kalen stood, staff in hand, whispering another chant and sending a second bolt at the witch.
Aric didn’t think he’d ever been so happy to see any of his brothers. No doubt, Kalen was one of them.
Beryl shrieked in pain and rage, flying up into the air with superhuman strength and speed. She flew at Kalen, firing a return blast that lifted him off his feet, propelled him back to smash into a wall. He slid to the floor, and the two of them returned blows.
Aric pushed to his feet, moving around behind the witch. He had to help Kalen while her attention was focused on him. Aric tore off his shirt, let loose his wolf. Shifted, kicked free of his pants and shoes, and ran. He leapt, hitting her between the shoulder blades, taking her to the floor. She twisted and he went for her throat, clamped down, fully intending to tear it out.
“Aric!” Nick’s voice shouted. “Don’t kill her!”
“Aric, let her up,” Nick ordered. “And you, witch. Get to your knees, nice and slow.”
Aric moved aside, growling, hackles raised. Ready to go against his leader’s command and tear her to shreds if she tried anything. “Now, on your feet. Slowly.”
The men surrounded her. Kalen was the closest, keeping a wary eye on her. But even he wasn’t prepared when she raised a bloodied finger and pressed it to the center of his forehead.
Kalen’s eyes drooped for a moment, and he staggered as though about to pass out. Hammer steadied him and the Sorcerer seemed to shake off whatever she’d done. Immediately, he mouthed his own incantation and the witch went rigid, arms going behind her back.
“She’s bound,” Kalen said in a tired voice. “We can transport her now.”
Aric shifted back to human form and went for his pants. Yanking them on, he looked around for Rowan and spotted her emerging from the hallway. “Thank God,” he said, striding toward her. Grabbing her, he pulled her against his chest. “I was way past worried about you.”
“I’m good. Chappell, though? Not so much.” She sighed, pulling back. “Sorry, guys, but he turned and pulled a gun. I returned fire and shot him in the stomach. He’s bleeding out in the master bedroom, and he’s not gonna make it. If Nick wants to question him, he’d better get back there.”
“Shit,” Nick spat. Then he glanced at Rowan, shaking his head. “Not your fault, though. I just wish we could’ve brought him in. Kalen, Hammer, Ryon, watch the witch. The rest of you can come with me.”
They trooped to the bedroom. Aric was as curious as the rest of them to get an in-person look at the man who’d caused so much grief to so many shifter and human families. But when they walked in and saw him sprawled on the floor, clutching his stomach and bleeding out onto the carpet, he simply looked like a pathetic old man.
His complexion was papery as he turned to squint at them, panting hard. What he said next shocked everyone.
“I’m glad you caught me,” he rasped. “I’m glad it’s over.”
His pale blue eyes were clear of malice, his words sincere. Aric had heard somewhere that the dead didn’t lie, and he thought it might be true in Chappell’s case. Jax crouched next to the older man, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Then he closed his eyes, and Aric knew the RetroCog was grabbing the threads of Chappell’s past. Gathering the visions that would lead to the truth.
Finally Jax opened his eyes and gazed at Chappell. “You were a good man, and you did great things at NewLife, helping families through organ transplant techniques and medical research. You helped thousands.”
“Yes. And then the demon came.”
“Malik?” Nick asked, his expression intense.
Chappell nodded. “I never knew such evil truly existed.” The old man coughed, and blood bubbled to his lips. “But then he came, and I was lost. He takes what he wants by bending you to his will. He’s a seducer, the bastard, and he takes pleasure in the twisting of a soul. In making you enjoy it.”
The old man was fading fast. Nick spoke quickly.
“Chappell, tell us how to identify Malik—what does he look like?”
The man gave a laugh that rattled in his chest. “He can be anything, or anyone. But I’ve seen his true self…”
Aric doubted that very much. Sariel had passed along to Nick and the team the description of Malik he’d given to Rowan—that the Unseelie was ugly as sin with horns growing out of his head. Nick was only trying to discern what form Malik had used with the old man.
“Is he ugly,” Nick pressed, “like those beasts he uses as his henchmen?”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no, he’s as darkly beautiful as Satan himself… black hair and eyes like polished onyx. Huge black wings with blue-black feathers, not leathery ones like those pets of his. Not going to find him like that, though. He can’t walk down the street like… like that.”
Nick cursed. “Then we’re right back where we started—without one clue what he really looks like.”
“I’m betting Sariel’s description is the correct one,” Aric said. “He would know better than anybody.”
“True.” Nick looked back to the old man. “Mr. Chappell, can you tell us what identity he’s using to pass among humans? What’s his name?”
“He’s a millionaire,” the man gasped with difficulty. “Goes by Evan… Kerrigan.”
Nick sighed, relief etched on his face. “Thank you. Because of your help, we have a place to start the search.”
Zan, who’d been silent, crouched at the old man’s other side. “Mr. Chappell, I can heal you. Let me—”
“No, boy.” The man refused the offer quietly. “I’ve hurt too many.”
Zan was not one to easily accept letting a man die. Especially one who’d been innocent, and then controlled against his will. “You were lured into Malik’s horrible project, your mind taken hostage just like those being experimented on. He used you like a puppet, and you had no say. You deserve a second chance, and we’ll keep you safe. Please, before it’s too late.”
“Son, it was too late for me when the first person died under one of my own fucking knives. Just promise me you’ll get him,” he whispered, his eyes meeting Nick’s.
“You have my word,” Nick said grimly. “One day we’ll destroy Malik and use his entrails as Christmas
