Black Moon

building where the guys played football and other games to pass their free time.

Positive he’d escaped without being spotted, he strode for the edge of the forest. Once shielded from view by the cover of the trees and surrounding gloom, he took a deep breath and relaxed, calling his panther.

The beast responded with a glad roar at being free. It had been much too long. He hit the ground on all fours, lifted his nose to the air. The scents were much sharper in this form, the earth more pungent. Rich. He caught the scent of animals, too, small ones that would make tasty snacks, but he resisted the hunt. Tonight he had a different purpose.

His panther ran, exulting in stretching his limbs. In the simplicity of just being free. He’d often wondered if it might be better to live in this form forever, turning his back on humanity. It could be so easy.

Then again, perhaps not. The man inside craved acceptance, and unfortunately, Malik was right. He was curious to see what the male thought he had to offer. Even more puzzling, he sensed no imminent physical threat from the Unseelie. Why?

That question nagged him all during his run. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but simply followed the pull that told him this was the right direction. The nearer he got to Malik, the stronger the force drawing him in.

He should’ve been alarmed once he passed beyond the boundaries of the wards he’d placed around the Pack compound, but he wasn’t. For miles he ran, well into the Shoshone National Forest, far past where any hunter or camper would dare to venture.

At last he came to a clearing, and in that space stood a cabin nestled in the trees. Not a small, quaint one, either. The structure was made of logs, and a covered porch traversed the front and wrapped around both sides. The place was grand, like a hunting lodge a millionaire might own, which made sense. Malik was posing as the wealthy Evan Kerrigan.

Then again . . . the cabin was too far from civilization to be part of Malik’s human cover. In fact, there was something different about this place. Something other. He became aware of a vibration along his nerve endings, sort of like a current, but one that caused him no discomfort. Immediately he identified the source—dark magic.

And it wasn’t just coming from the cabin and surrounding area. No, this place was magic itself. A beautiful illusion created by a master of the dark arts, cloaked from all except those to whom Malik wished it known. He couldn’t help but admire the skill involved in maintaining the facade.

But is it a facade if you can see and touch it, boy? I can disappear at will, so am I therefore not real?

Kalen shifted back to his human form, his clothes reappearing on his body. Quite a handy ability that none of the other guys possessed.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you vanish for good and we’ll find out?” he muttered.

An amused laugh greeted Kalen’s terse words, and a dark figure stepped onto the porch from inside. Backlit in the cabin’s doorway, the man—or rather, the Unseelie disguised as a man—was very tall.

“Come inside, young Sorcerer,” Malik said, gesturing him forward. “Let’s have a nightcap to cure our insomnia.”

The other male turned and went inside. Wary, Kalen followed him. Just because the Unseelie exuded a false sense of normalcy didn’t mean Kalen was stupid. His years on the street had taught him that a friendly gesture always came with a catch.

And nothing about this creature was normal.

Mounting the porch steps, he trailed Malik into the cabin and took a surprised look around. Somehow he’d expected stark coldness and “evil” stamped on every surface. But the interior was the epitome of warm, rustic luxury. Dark leather furniture and plush throw rugs dotted the living space. A large stone fireplace graced most of the far wall, and an adjacent wall sported a walk-in wet bar.

“How civilized,” he commented drily as Malik rounded the bar.

“Isn’t it? And here you likely expected a dreary cave full of bats.” The Unseelie reached for an expensive- looking bottle of Cognac and then removed two crystal highball glasses from the shelf. Smiling faintly, he poured them each a couple of inches of the liquor and then brought them both into the living area. He handed Kalen a glass. “Please, sit.”

Kalen remained standing for a few beats longer, studying the creature who could pass for any human man. An exceptionally good-looking one. The form he’d taken as Evan Kerrigan was a few inches taller than Kalen’s six or so feet, and he was well muscled without being ripped. Black hair dusted his shoulders and framed an angular face set with midnight blue eyes and a strong jaw. It was no wonder the creature had managed to seduce everyone who’d crossed his path.

He appeared to be anything but a monster.

There was an innate sexuality that radiated from the male’s very pores. Although, despite the Unseelie’s seductive approach, Kalen could honestly say he knew Malik’s focus was not really directed at him in a sexual way—though he couldn’t say how he knew—the bold scrutiny in the other’s steady gaze unnerved him nonetheless.

“What are you so hot to show me?” Kalen asked, getting to the point.

“First I’d like to talk to you. Sit, please.” Malik took a seat in a large wingback chair near the fireplace, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. Casually sipping his Cognac, he presented the picture of cozy, urbane charm.

It couldn’t last.

Slowly, Kalen lowered himself to the sofa across from the Unseelie and sniffed at the liquor. Reaching out with his magic, he could discern no spell placed on the drink. He took a sip and found it to be safe. But he knew better than to relax.

“This is good stuff,” he said.

“Only the best for you.”

“You sound as though you mean that.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve waited for this moment for what seems like ages.” Those piercing eyes bored into his.

Kalen shifted uneasily. “The way you said that . . . it’s almost as if you know me.”

“As well as I know myself,” the Unseelie replied softly.

Something about that statement, Malik’s tone, made every hair on his body stand on end. “That’s not possible.”

“It’s as possible as the cabin you’re sitting in quite comfortably, where no cabin should be.”

“Is this how it’s going to be? You talking in riddles the whole time? I don’t know what the hell I thought coming here would accomplish.” Self-preservation raised its head. He started to rise, eager to get out of there, but Malik held out a hand.

“Hear me out. Don’t you want your questions answered?”

Yes, he did. Badly. He doubted prying them from the fucker would be as easy as that, but he sat again, reluctantly. “All right. Let’s start with why you want to hurt innocent people.”

Malik affected a solemn expression, like a doctor about to tell someone he had a terminal illness. “Innocence is more of an illusion than anything my magic could possibly create. The sole innocent creatures are newborns, and all are eventually lost to temptation. There are no exceptions to this rule.”

“You’re wrong. My mother was innocent,” he refuted tightly.

A flash of anger lit the Unseelie’s eyes, then was quickly masked. “No. Your mother was weak. She did not protect you from the worm you called ‘Father.’”

He sucked in a breath. “How do you know that?”

“She feared for herself more than she cared to protect her child, and that makes her among the most loathsome of her kind. I saw how she cowered while he beat you senseless, time after time. I saw how she ultimately handed your fate to David Black, allowed him to toss you into the street like a sack of refuse.”

“And why the hell didn’t you intervene, if you cared so much?” He glared at the Unseelie.

“I had to wait. It wasn’t time.”

“Wait for what?”

“For you to take your rightful place as my apprentice. To rule at my side.”