Black Moon

* * *

Nick and Jarrod sat in Nick’s office at half past two in the morning. Unable to sleep, they’d talked for hours. Something was going to happen, and soon.

The storm was on the way.

As if to punctuate this knowledge, lightning flashed and actual thunder rolled in the distance. Miles away yet but speeding toward them. He should’ve known the end would come with a real storm to add to the mess, not simply a figurative one.

“I can’t get a reading, no inkling at all of a vision beyond what I’ve told you,” Nick said in frustration.

“And that doesn’t help much. We know there’s a great war and Kalen is there. He’s the impetus of the catastrophic event.”

“Yeah. And we don’t know which side of the fence he comes down on.”

The cell phone on Nick’s desk buzzed and he glanced at it in surprise. Then the chill of foreboding gripped him even before he saw the name on the screen. “It’s A.J.,” he told Jarrod. Then he answered. “What’s up?”

“Boss, it’s Kalen,” the younger man said breathlessly. Nick was out of his chair and moving before the guy spoke again. Jarrod ran after him. “That Unseelie creep got into his head again, and—and you shoulda seen it. I think he’s gone, boss. Like ‘the Kalen we know doesn’t live here anymore’ gone. He’s raving about killing all of us!”

“Grant and I are on the way.”

“God, it’s going to devastate Mac if . . .” The man couldn’t finish.

“I know. But I’m not sure I’ll have a choice.”

But he knew. As soon as they entered the corridor and Nick heard the maniacal laughter, the awful sound of a body crashing into the cell’s bars again and again, he understood what he had to do.

And it devastated him every bit as much as it would Kalen’s mate.

He was going to have to put down a poor kid who’d never had a chance.

Fifteen

What was with all the attention?

Kalen strained to bring the pieces of his fractured mind back together. To make sense of why he was laughing like a loon, throwing himself at the bars of his prison. Scaring the shit out of A.J. Then the sniper was talking on his cell phone. Nick, he heard the man say.

And soon enough, Nick was standing outside, staring in at Kalen with an expression of sorrow Kalen had never seen before. It gave him pause. What did the man have to be sorry about? He was the one in here, suffering for something that wasn’t his fault.

Was it?

“I’ll do it,” A.J. said grimly, gripping his rifle. “It’s my job.”

“No. As I said before, he’s Pack. As commander, he’s my responsibility, and so is his end.”

End. Whose?

Nick took the rifle from A.J., who handed it over reluctantly. Then the commander faced Kalen again, the weapon in his big hands. “What’s your name, son?” he asked, his voice calm.

“Is that a trick question?” he asked snidely. “You can call me Prince of the Unseelie.” Yeah, he liked that.

“Who do you answer to?” the commander persisted.

“Malik. My father.” But that wasn’t right. The man in front of him was his boss. A father figure, too. He was good and kind. But where had those two pipe dreams of goodness and kindness from anyone ever gotten him?

“Jesus Christ,” Aric said, walking up to Nick’s side. “What the fuck is going on? Kalen?”

“Aric,” Nick said quietly. “You might not want to watch this.”

“What?” The redhead’s mouth dropped open. “No! He goes batty and that’s it? You just finish him? I thought we were gonna give him time?”

Aric. A friend, arguing for his life. That sliver of light became a thread in an ocean of black. It grew, slim but there. No! He had no friends. He had only his father. And his father had promised him power; he would never again be at anyone’s mercy.

“I can’t save him, Aric. He’s given himself to the Unseelie, and he won’t help himself. He doesn’t want us or the good we’ve brought to his life. He wants blood and death.”

Yes, that’s what he wanted . . . No, it wasn’t! He loved and respected Nick, all of these men. God, his head hurt.

His mate. He needed Mackenzie.

“Where’s my mate? Where’s Mackenzie?” he asked. God, he was so confused. And now he was getting scared, because Nick had raised the rifle to his shoulder. Kalen was looking down the scope.

Aric stared at his boss in horror. “Nick, you can’t. Don’t you hear him? If he’s asking for his mate, he’s still in there somewhere.”

From somewhere out of Kalen’s line of sight, footsteps sounded, coming fast up the hallway. “No!” Mac screamed. Running up to Nick, she hung on to his arm. “You said forty-eight hours! You can’t do this! Melina can give him the sedative!”

And then it happened. Nick whirled and grabbed her arm, and Kalen’s vision went crimson.

Mate. The man was touching his mate. Grabbing her and pushing her back as she cried. The cries went straight to his soul, and the light surged. Twined with the dark and exploded outward in a hurricane of power that he gathered and used to snap the silver chains binding his wrists.

Flinging them aside, he gripped the bars and gave a mighty pull, every muscle in his body straining. The entire structure ripped from the stone walls and he tossed it aside just as Nick stumbled backward and opened fire.

The bullet punched his shoulder and he roared in agony. His mate screamed again as Kalen fell back against the ruined wall, clutching the wound. In that moment, their gazes met and he saw her terror, felt it through their bond . . . and the truth nearly sent him to his knees. She was afraid for him. And of him. Her pain was all his fault. He had to leave.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. Regret almost felled him.

Summoning his magic, he countered the cell’s damaged fortifications and vanished. Transported himself far into the Shoshone and reappeared in a place he recognized. It was the spot where he and Mackenzie had made love, so long ago it seemed. He tried to draw comfort from their place, but there was mostly debilitating grief. He’d lost her.

Lost himself, too.

His wound throbbed and he staggered, weakened by blood loss. Perhaps there was a way to heal. He shifted into his panther and collapsed under a tree, panting. He listened to the sounds of the night returning. Crickets and strange bird calls. Somewhere, the lone howl of a wolf that was a permanent resident of the forest, not Pack.

Maybe he should’ve let Nick eliminate him, but the last shred of humanity in him insisted that he would never have hurt anyone on his own, especially Mackenzie. There was still good inside him.

Which would be damned near impossible to prove now that he was a fugitive Sorcerer with a kill order on his head and rage burning in his almost-black heart.

* * *

Mac stood shaking, staring at the spot where Kalen had been seconds before. There was blood on the wall where he’d rested his back against it, the shot having gone through his shoulder.

“You shot my mate,” she hissed, rounding on Nick.

The rest of the Pack, along with Sariel, surrounded them now, kicking through the rubble and taking in the nasty scene before them.

“You shot my brother?” the Fae asked in disbelief, appalled. One by one, every man in the Pack turned to the prince and someone whistled. Apparently not everyone had gotten that memo.

“He was about to fucking murder us all!” the commander shouted.