by J. D. Tyler
“Talked? That’s it?” Nick’s dark brow arched in clear skepticism.
“Yeah. He’s quite the snake oil salesman, something I didn’t realize before. Well, at least not firsthand.”
“Most of your mad-dog, power-hungry world leaders are great at swaying the masses,” the commander observed. “They start small, one soldier, one convert at a time, and before anyone truly catches on, they’ve decimated millions.”
“Like Hitler.” Kalen picked at his jeans. “Malik’s a close comparison. Given enough time and resources, he could have every bit as huge an impact on history, with his super-shifter soldiers as the new Third Reich. In fact, he admitted that’s his goal, to rule the world and make paranormals, the Fae in particular, the top of the food chain. He made some persuasive arguments for his cause and the way he wants to go about it.”
“I’ll just bet he did.” Nick’s face darkened.
“He had me half believing him, Nicky,” he said quietly. “Now I know how masses of people can fall victim to that sort of tyranny.”
Picking up a ballpoint pen, Nick tapped it on his desktop thoughtfully for a few moments. “Okay, so why you? Why does he want or need your help, in particular?’
“He . . . God, this is so wacked.” Elbows on his knees, he clasped his hands together tightly. Nick waited patiently. “He claims that I’m Fae.”
The commander’s jaw dropped and his blue eyes widened. Obviously the boss hadn’t seen that one coming. “What the fuck?”
“My reaction exactly.” He gave a humorless laugh. “He told me that my grandmother was pure Seelie. In fact, he claims they knew each other ages ago, from when they were on opposite sides of issues between the Seelie and Unseelie courts.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “Grandma never told me about my heritage, and if she meant to, she died before she was able. I have magic, but I don’t have wings like Sariel. And I know for a fact my blood runs red and not blue,” he said, thinking of his father’s fists and the many occasions they’d split his lip.
“What about your parents? Did he claim they were Fae also?”
Thinking back to the conversation, Kalen frowned. “He never really addressed my mom and dad in that respect, and I was so blown away by everything he was telling me that I didn’t ask. He just said that I’m Fae down to my last drop of blood. His words. So I assumed my folks were Fae, too. Or at least my mom, since Grandma was her mother.”
“Your father would have to be Fae as well, if you’re a pureblood.” Nick chewed on the cap of his pen.
“Which doesn’t make sense at all if you knew my father. He’s about as anti-magic as a person can get. He forbade my mother to even speak of such things, and I watched her slowly wither away trying to be what he expected.” Kalen shuddered, remembering those awful years. “He kept an eagle eye on me, too. He was adamant that I’d be a ‘normal’ boy, not an aberration. Shortly after Grandma’s death, when my powers began to grow, he kicked me out.”
“He used that word, aberration?” Nick asked, puzzled.
“Yeah, and a lot worse.”
“His attitude doesn’t make sense if he’s Fae.”
“Tell me about it.”
“It sounds almost as if he was afraid of your magic once it developed.” He paused. “Do you know if your parents are still alive?”
“I’ve been gone for so many years, I have no clue.” He looked away. “Even as badly as they treated me in the end, I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t know and don’t care much if they’re still breathing or not.”
“Hey, you were a minor when they kicked you out. You have nothing to be ashamed of where your feelings about them are concerned, kid. But we do need some answers about why Malik is so focused on you. I have a feeling your parents, if they’re still around, have a couple they could be persuaded to share.”
“Are you suggesting we pay them a visit?”
“I think that’s a very good idea. And I think we should do it soon.”
Kalen sensed their conversation was drawing to a close, and there was one other thing weighing heavily on his mind and heart. “What about Billy, the guy I watched Malik murder? You could take me out for my part in that—in fact, I’m surprised you haven’t.”
“I haven’t because Malik was going to kill that man anyway, and I saw that there was no way either of us could’ve stopped him. You were under Malik’s influence and you didn’t touch Billy. But know this—if you kill out of pure bloodlust, and not in self-defense or defense of the team, I will terminate you. It’ll kill me to do it, but I won’t have a choice.”
“I understand,” he said softly. Christ, Nick didn’t deserve to have the blood of one of his own men on his hands. If it came to that, Kalen prayed he had enough of his own mind left to take care of the deed himself.
Nick steered the topic to the present again. “Back to your parents. Give me your former address and I’ll see if they’re around. I might know something by this afternoon.”
“Okay.” Standing, he took his cue to leave. First he took the pen and a scrap of paper from Nick’s desk and wrote down his parents’ names and address, if they were indeed still there. Then he reached out and shook the commander’s hand. “Thanks for giving me a chance. I don’t know how I’m gonna pull it off, but somehow I’ll get rid of Malik for good.”
“You won’t be alone. We’ll be there with you every step of the way.”
That so closely echoed what Aric had said, Kalen’s throat got tight. With a nod, he left Nick’s office before he embarrassed himself by losing his composure.
Now for an overdue visit that he’d put off as long as he could.
* * *
Nick sat back in his chair and ran his hand down his face with a weary sigh. “Fuck!”
The kid was in so goddamned much trouble. All of them were. And he didn’t have a fucking clue what to do next. Where was the line between doing his job and interfering with the future, the one thing he’d sworn off attempting? It blurred more with each passing day.
Suddenly a familiar buzz began in his head. A tingle began in his spine and the room went fuzzy as the oncoming vision gripped him. One he’d been plagued with before, but this time in more agonizing detail.
Nick was kneeling in the middle of a field, racked with pain as cold rain lashed down, stinging like needles. Lightning split the sky, took a jagged path to the soaked earth, scorching it in spite of the downpour.
All around him, his Pack battled the Sluagh. His brave men cutting a swath through Malik’s batlike Unseelie minions, losing ground with every passing second. There were hundreds of the terrible beasts, swarming, screeching. Far too many for either fierce wolves or men with magical gifts to defeat.
They were all going to die.
High on a pinnacle stood the Sorcerer with his staff, holding it aloft. Screaming at the Unseelie enemy and at the heavens for help that would not come.
And then a bolt of lightning streaked from the boiling black clouds, making the night as day just before it hit the end of the Sorcerer’s staff. A massive detonation shook the ground and the world fell away.
Fell and fell. Taking Nick and his men into the abyss.
Nick jolted back to himself, sucking in great gulps of air. His heart slammed against his sternum, wild with adrenaline. Fear.
“Oh my God.”
That had been the end. The ceasing of life. But the question was, whose? Which side had Kalen chosen in that final act, that last devastating second? Eternal darkness or light?
One thing was for certain—unless Nick made a phone call right this minute, neither he nor the rest of the Pack would ever know that answer.
And he knew then that, for the first time in many years, he was going to break his vow never to interfere with destiny.
He picked up the phone. Hit speed dial. Within seconds, his friend answered. And he uttered the words he’d never thought he would say, not to this man.
“Jarrod, I need y
ou here.”
Instantly, the general barked, “When?”
“Yesterday.”
“How many teams?”
He let out a sigh of relief, though he was careful not to allow Jarrod to hear. God bless the man. “Several. Don’t mobilize them yet, just have them ready.”
“You’re about to fuck up my life, aren’t you, boy?”
He didn’t object to his friend’s use of the term “boy” even though he was much, much older than the general’s human years. It was meant in affection, and was nearly his undoing. “Yes, sir. I’m afraid so.”
Grant gave a quiet laugh. “Well, a cushy retirement was sounding awfully boring anyhow. Give me a couple of days to square things here. Then I’ll be there. See you soon.”
“Jarrod, . . . thank you.”
“No need for that. Just don’t tell my baby girl I’m coming. I want it to be a surprise.”
Oh, it will be. For both of you. “Sure.”
Nick hung up the phone and didn’t move again for a very long while.
* * *
Kalen wasn’t surprised to be met by both Mackenzie and Melina when he walked into the infirmary. The women stopped in front of him side by side, their stance more than a wee bit militant.
“I swear I’m not going to say or do anything to upset him,” he said, holding up a hand before either of them could speak. “I just want to apologize.”
“He’s agreed to see you. But to be frank, I shouldn’t even allow you near him,” Melina said in a steely tone.
Kalen winced. “I won’t hurt him. You have my word.”
Won’t you?
Shit! The shields had slipped without him realizing it, and he’d need to fully concentrate to shore them up again. Trouble was, his energy was shot from shielding all afternoon.
“You’ve got ten minutes. He’s better but still not at full speed, and I won’t have anything setting back his recovery. We’ll be nearby.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Melina turned and stalked off, but Mac stepped forward and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. “It’ll be fine. He’s in the third room on the left. Go.”
“Thanks.” Giving his lady a quick kiss, he headed for Sariel’s room. Outside, he knocked.
“Come in.”
He wasn’t certain what to expect, but the sight of the Fae prince brought him up short just inside the doorway, guilt making another ugly appearance. The faery’s cheeks were gaunt, the angles in his face more pronounced than usual. There were smudges under his golden eyes that indicated lack of sleep and illness. His long blue hair, normally a shiny sapphire shade, was dull and lifeless. As were the wings that drooped on either side of him, feathers hanging to the floor.
As he met Kalen’s gaze, Kalen saw a weariness in those golden orbs that showed how extremely ancient a being he was, despite his youthful looks.
“Come and sit. I won’t turn you into a toad,” Sariel said in attempt at levity.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Moving to the prince’s bedside, he took a seat in a vinyl chair. “I’m sure you hate the sight of me right now.”
The prince cocked his head. “No, I can’t say I do. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
“How can you say that? I let Beryl out and she nearly killed you!” He shook his head, trying to comprehend how the Fae could harbor no ill will toward him.
Sariel sighed, his tone resigned. “Kalen, the witch nearly killed me at my father’s urging, not yours. My death has been his goal for the past few years, and these most recent months have nearly seen him succeed more than once. He won’t cease until one of us is dead, and that blame cannot be laid at your feet.”
Kalen felt anything but blameless in the whole deal. God, what must it be like to have your own father actively out to kill you? Kalen’s dad had been a mean, abusive old motherfucker and he’d enjoyed hurting his son, but he’d never actually tried to murder him.
Yes, I want my spawn dead. I’ll spread him on an altar in chains and use my own talons to slice off his wings. Then his balls and cock as he screams in agony, begging for mercy. And then I’ll rip his heart from his chest and feast on it.
Kalen stared at the prince, shaken.
“Kalen? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Gathering himself, he strengthened his shields. “Why does he want you dead?”
“I’m his only son, the product of his rape of my mother, the Seelie queen. My brothers are her legitimate offspring with the Seelie king who reluctantly raised me as his own. As Malik’s progeny, I am the only being with the power to destroy him.” He studied Kalen thoughtfully. “Or so I believed until recently.”
Kalen ignored the prince’s insinuation for the moment. “So why’d he wait until the last few years to go after you? You’re something like eleven thousand years old, according to what I overheard.”
“Yes, give or take.” His smile was sad. “Though thousands of years are a mere blink in time to the Fae in general, some days it seems an eternity. Anyway, in most cases it takes millennia for us to reach our full potential. And when we reach our maturity, we get our wings as well.”
Kalen’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. That means . . .”
“Precisely.” The prince sounded smug. “When you attain your full power, you’ll get your wings, young Fae.”
“Wha—how did you know?” he stammered.
“I’ve known you were Fae since the second you entered the compound.”
“Then why the hell didn’t you tell me?” he snapped in irritation. “Instead I had to hear it from Malik. And he claimed he didn’t have a clue as to why I don’t have wings.”
Sariel made a face. “As humans say, my sire lies like a fucking rug. Don’t believe anything that passes his foul lips, Sorcerer. I mean that.”
“Okay. So how come you didn’t mention my heritage to me?”
“To be honest, I wasn’t certain that you didn’t already know, and I didn’t want to broach the subject until we were better acquainted.”
“Fair enough. I guess Hey, did you know you’re gonna sprout wings in a few thousand years? isn’t exactly a great icebreaker,” he muttered.
The prince smiled. “Oh, I doubt it will take that long.”
He eyed the prince. “What makes you think so?”
“Your powers are quite remarkable, so I have a suspicion that your wings will emerge much sooner than mine did.” The prince sobered, beginning to look tired. “That’s also the reason my father has taken such an interest in controlling you.”
“Yeah, but if I’m so damned superior, how can he control me?” Kalen asked in frustration. “Because he’s getting pretty fucking good at doing it and I don’t have an inkling of how to stop him.”
“He couldn’t manipulate you unless you already possessed a thread of darkness that he can seize and mold into something terrible and useful for him. You know this.”
“Jesus.” He sighed. “You’re right. But why don’t you have some darkness he can pounce on? You’re his son. Not that I’d wish that on you, because I don’t. I’m just asking.”
“I was fortunate that I was blessed with my mother’s strong royal Seelie characteristics. That didn’t save me from being cast out of my realm when he decided to target me, but at least he has no hold over my mind. For what it is worth, I’m truly sorry he does with you.” The prince yawned, blinking slowly.
“Thanks.” He could tell the guy meant it. They studied each other for several long moments, and as they did, Kalen couldn’t help but feel a budding sense of kinship.
Was it simply because he’d finally found someone like himself? Here was a decent guy who’d been thrown out of his home, left to fend for himself in a cruel world, just like Kalen. They had a common enemy. They were both Fae. And as incredible as it seemed, he’d one day earn wings just like the prince. Maybe he’d live eleven thousand years, too.
He just hoped he wouldn’t have to live even one of those years away from Mackenz
ie, especially not under Malik’s rule.
“How do I defeat him, Your Highness?”
Sariel’s head nodded as he attempted to stay awake. “With your light and your love,” he murmured cryptically. Then his lashes fluttered closed and his breathing became deep. Even.
Light and love? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
“Sounds like something a faery would say,” he grouched as he stepped from the room.
Oh, wait—I’m a faery, too. Just not the light and love type.
That might explain why he was doomed.
He learned from Noah that Mackenzie was busy in her office on a personal phone call, so he strode toward the rec room. It wasn’t until after he left that he remembered they hadn’t been able to enjoy that shower together like they’d wanted. It would have to wait until tonight. In the meantime, they would have to finish their day drenched in each other’s scent. Every creature in the building would know who the gorgeous doc belonged to.
And that suited him just fine.
Seven
Mac hurried toward Kalen’s quarters, trying not to appear as though she was worried. But she had good reason to be.
Kalen hadn’t showed at dinner. That in itself was cause for concern among the Pack—the men loved their food and rarely missed one of the cook’s excellent meals unless one of them was sick.
She knocked firmly at Kalen’s door. Waited and listened for signs of movement. No response. She rapped again, louder this time. Still nothing.
“Kalen!” Worry ramping up to dread, she started pounding. “Open this damned door right now or—”
It abruptly sprang open to reveal her Sorcerer standing there bare-chested, jeans slung low on his hips. His hair was rumpled in sexy disarray and he blinked as though he’d been napping. “Or you’ll huff and puff and blow my house down?”
She scowled at him, determined not to let his mouthwatering, half-naked bod distract her. “I just happen to know a few wolves who would help me with that. Are you going to let me in or should I go fetch a couple?”
He gave her a lazy smile. “Feisty, aren’t we? By all means, come in.”