Mad, Bad & Dangerous

“That’s different,” Tyrnan said, his face like thunder. And before anyone could ask why it was different, he added, “Look, I don’t need parenting advice from someone whose daughter grew up to be a whore and an assassin.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Chance said, and Bael opened his mouth then shut it again, because there was no way the brunette could have been Chance’s mother. They looked alike-which was why she seemed familiar, he guessed-but she couldn’t have been more than ten years Chance’s senior.

“Those were entirely her own choices,” the brunette said, unruffled. “And besides, I reckon she turned out pretty well, considering.”

“If you think I’m going to let my daughter-”

“What the bloody hell is all this noise?” snapped a voice as the door slammed open-and the devil walked in.

The devil, a tall man dressed in black with pale blond hair and eyes like holes in ice. He moved like a predator, sneered at the assembled company, and had an aura of power and death that strangled the breath in Bael’s throat.

This man…

Flashes of red-hot anger and brilliant purple lust shot through the darkness blanketing the man, and the air was full of screams, the scent of charred flesh, rivers of blood and pain and fear.

This man…

The devil stalked up to the brunette, caressed her face, and Bael actually did choke, because he was standing between the brunette and Chance and he was the link between them. Those eyes and that hair and the aura of power, lust and death. There were answering sparks from his queen and he knew-

The devil was Chance’s father.

“Bael?” someone said, a faraway voice, and he scrambled to his feet, knocking over his chair, tripping over the legs and racing from the room, slamming through the door and hiding, sliding down the wall with his hands on his face against the horror.

“Bael?” said that voice again, and there was comfort in it but not enough.

“He killed them,” he said, his voice shaking, his eyes seeing nothing but blood and death. “He slaughtered them, my people, Nasc, he did it for fun, he massacred them-”

“I know,” Kett said, and her hand touched his shoulder.

“He killed so many of them,” Bael said, the awfulness of it burning his eyes. “And he’s her father.”

“I know,” Kett said again, and he felt her sitting beside him on the floor. Her hand moved across his chest tentatively and he turned to her, pressing his face against her neck and holding her to him. Her skin was soft and her body was strong and she was warm, and she was his, and gradually his heart rate and his breathing slowed.

“You knew,” he said, looking up at her, still shaking.

“I thought everyone knew,” she said, concern in her silver eyes. “I thought everyone had heard of Striker.”

“Yes, but I didn’t think he was real,” Bael said. “He’s like a story to scare small children.”

“And why should that mean he’s not real?”

Bael closed his eyes, but mutilated flesh reared in his vision and he snapped them open again, gasping.

“What?” Kett asked, alarmed as he clung to her tighter.

“I can see it,” he said. “What he did, he didn’t just kill them, he-he-”

“Yeah,” Kett said. “He did.”

“No, you don’t understand, he-”

“Bael, I’ve known Striker since I was a teenager. Believe me, I understand.”

He looked back up at her, disbelieving.

“He’s a friend of my father’s,” she said. “He and my dad and Chalia went to school together.”

“Chalia?”

“Chance’s mother-my dad’s sister. Sitting next to Chance in there? She stood up for you. That’s why she called him Prowler, it’s a school nickname.”

Bael nodded numbly. Then he said, “School? Striker was a child?”

“So they tell me. Can’t see it myself, but there you go.”

She held him for a while, not saying anything, just being there, being close, being what he needed. And she doubts she’s my mate, Bael thought, tracing the line of her jaw with his fingers. Her gaze searched his face, her mouth moving in what might have been a reassuring smile on someone who was more used to being kind.

“Is that how- They said my queen was dead, that the Federacion had killed her. Is that how she came back? Striker?”

Kett’s mouth tightened into a grim line at the mention of the Federacion, and she nodded. Had she heard of their atrocities too? The things they did to Nasc, to shapeshifters and psychics. The things they’d do to him if they ever found out who he was. What he was.

He shuddered. What he was. Kett was surely going to find out sooner or later-and what if she didn’t know to keep it secret? What if she let it slip and they came for him? What if they took her too, and hurt her, and-

Bael took a deep breath and let it out before he collapsed into hysterics again. “I have to tell you something.” Kett raised her eyebrows questioningly, and he swallowed. “And you can’t tell anyone else.”

“I won’t tell anyone you had a nervous breakdown,” she said, and her eyes sparkled a bit as she said it.

Bael smiled, which he guessed had been her intention, and shifted to lean back against the wall.

“I’m a Nasc Mage,” he said.

Her face showed a total lack of comprehension.

“I- My animal isn’t fixed. It can be pretty much anything,” he explained.

“So?”

“So, every adult Nasc has a fixed animal twin. It can be anything when you’re a child, but as you get older it settles, and then one day you realize it can’t change and that’s when you know you’re an adult.”

“Explains why you act like a child sometimes,” Kett muttered.

“Only my animal never settled,” he went on. “And that’s the sign of a Mage.”

She was silent a moment, then asked, “It can really be anything?”

“Pretty much. And I have power-magical power, but it’s not…I was never trained, so most of it’s useless.” He rolled his head to look at her. “There was no one to train me. My parents were dead and Striker…”

This time understanding dawned in her eyes. “Striker stole his power from other people,” she said. “He went rampaging and sucked magic from everyone he found with any talent.”

Bael nodded. “And I was just a kid, I didn’t have much, so he didn’t notice me. The only people left now with any power have so little of it they can’t teach me anything.” He thought bitterly of Albhar, unable to do more than the simplest spells, barely possessing enough power to light a candle. “But sometimes…recently…I feel things or see things-”

“Like Striker killing all those Nasc?”

He shuddered and nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Kett said, and there was sincerity in her voice.

“And-is it true, about him bringing Chance back to life?” She nodded again. “The people who killed her…”

“The Federacion. Euskaran group. Lunatics. I’ve had a couple of run-ins with them myself.”

His fingers tightened around hers. “They’re…well, they’re worse than Striker.”

“No one’s worse than Striker,” Kett said.

“Yeah? They kidnapped the king’s sister. They’ve taken Nasc before. Were-creatures too. Psychics. Magi. They do terrible things to them. So you can’t tell anyone I’m a Mage. Please, Kett. No one. They killed my queen-”

“But Striker brought her back. He’s not with the Federacion. Believe me.”

It’s not him I’m worried about. Well, mostly not.

“Why did he do it?” Bael asked. “All those Nasc. You know him, why did he-why didn’t anyone stop him?”

“No one can,” Kett said simply. “As for the why…he did it because it was fun.”