When Kalen had shifted back, his gratification at seeing dear old Dad’s terror was brief. The bastard’s fearful expression quickly morphed into outright, seething hatred. He ordered his son gone from the house immediately, and he was to take nothing with him.
Kalen’s mother had remained silent, letting it happen. And his heart had broken.
That was his first experience with hatred. There’d been plenty of ridicule—Aric wasn’t the first to call him a freak, to act like Kalen didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as regular people. A recent run-in with a group of backwoods assholes at the Cross-eyed Grizzly came painfully to mind. And yeah, Mackenzie had witnessed that incident, too.
But now that he thought about it, the indifference might just be the worst. He thought of years of walking busy highways and lonely back roads. Everyone passing him by, no one caring where this drifter might be headed or what had brought him so low. Not one hand extended in welcome.
Until Nick Westfall had offered him a job with the Alpha Pack and a place to stay. Maybe—
Boy, don’t get sentimental about the commander’s gesture, Malik sneered. You know as well as I that the man would’ve shown you the door weeks ago if you hadn’t been of use to his team. Deny it!
He couldn’t, and misery swamped him anew. “I’m nothing but a tool to you, too. You’re no different from Nick, if that’s the argument you’re going with.”
I have something far greater to offer you, young Sorcerer. Something you long for badly that he can never give to you. Come and see, pet. Once you do, you’ll be free to go if you wish.
“I don’t believe you,” he gritted. “You’ll probably hold me prisoner or something.”
No. I won’t need to take such a drastic step.
Again, there was the ring of truth. Kalen was chilled, fear taking root deep in his soul. What could Malik possibly have that made him so confident Kalen would join him? What did Kalen want so badly that he’d give in to the darkness, as his grandmother had feared?
Acceptance, Malik said gently. And a place to belong.
Kalen’s pulse beat hard in his throat. “You can’t give me those things. You’re evil, and you’re lying.”
I’m neither—merely misunderstood, like you. Let me prove it.
The temptation was too much. Kalen rose from the bed and dressed, hands shaking. He was glad Malik couldn’t see them. After donning the jeans and T-shirt from earlier, he pulled on his boots and slipped from his quarters.
Moving as silently as possible, he made his way down the corridor to the compound’s recreation room. Once there, he crossed to the door leading outside and soon found himself standing in the grassy area at the back of the 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.”