Five
Jaxon could barely concentrate as Nick moved to the front of the meeting room. His erection throbbed in time to the headache pounding at his temples. What in God’s name was wrong with him? Half an hour alone in Kira’s presence and he was ready to jump the woman and have his way.
Her scent was driving him insane. It was like he had a zillion ants crawling under his skin, the urge to mate her— fuck her until they were both limp and exhausted —almost a physical pain. He’d been nuts to kiss her, much less make demands they weren’t ready for. Who was he kidding? He’d never be ready to settle down with any woman. Not after—no. She was a nightmare he would not revisit. The only purpose Beryl served now was as a fitting reminder of why he was alone. Why he would stay that way?
He’d take back what he said to Kira about staying away from other men. Tell her it was a mistake, which was the truth. It was as though someone else’s mouth had been saying the words, but he hadn’t been able to stop them. But this itching under his skin was abominable. He had to find sexual relief ASAP. And not from his own hand. He needed to bury his cock in a hot, willing sheath and fuck until he couldn’t breathe any longer. It wouldn’t be Kira, no matter that the idea made his wolf whine in distress.
Any woman would have to do. Today, tomorrow night at the latest, he’d call on Jacee. She had never turned him away, and probably never would. He didn’t need Kira, just a sleek body, and he’d remind himself of that soon.
“Jax, are you with me?”
Jerking his head up, he found everyone’s attention on him. Great. Meeting Nick’s gaze, he schooled his face into a cool mask. The man saw far too much. “I’m sorry. I missed what you said.”
After shooting Jaxon a look of irritation, the older man started over. “We’ve got two cases Grant dropped on my desk early this morning. The first is a string of murders that have happened around Cody. Or more accurately, the bodies were dumped outside town, but the victims were killed elsewhere. The second is a guy who’s beenhanging around the cemetery not far from where the bodies were found and is doing a bang-up job of making the locals nervous. Whether or not he’s responsible for the killings or knows anything about them, we don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”
Zander spoke up. “Why’d we catch this? Sounds like a job for the sheriff’s office.”
Ryon smacked his friend on the back of the head. “Why do ya think, idiot? These aren’t just any bodies and this dude is no ordinary drifter. Otherwise, Grant wouldn’t have become involved.”
A few snickers ensued before Nick continued. “Correct. There have been four bodies discovered in shallow graves on the northeast border of the Shoshone, all within a few yards of one another. After the sheriff’s office and forensics went over the area, the county coroner was called out. He immediately ascertained what the cops suspected—all four bodies were in varying stages of decomposition, the most recent one dead only a few days.”
“They found a dumping ground,” Jaxon guessed.
“Right. All were men, approximate age range early twenties to early thirties. No IDs, and no men have been reported missing from Cody or the surrounding areas. In layman’s terms, the men were tortured to death. It appears they were kept in captivity—ligature marks on the wrists and ankles—and were malnourished. Scalpel marks and missing tissue from several areas of the body suggest they endured some kind of medical procedure.”
“Jesus,” Ryon whispered. At first Jaxon thought his friend was reacting to what Nick said. But his eyes were closed and his face had paled, his skin gray and clammy. “I don’t know what you want. I don’t understand.”
“Crap, somebody bring him back,” Aric blurted. It always unnerved the normally brash wolf when Ryon’s spirits came to call. The sole Channeler and Telepath on the team, Ryon was often sought out by the dead beseeching him for help he didn’t know how to give. Like now.
Jaxon would take his ability as a RetroCog any day. He had no control over events that had already occurred, but at least he wasn’t barraged by dead people, and that suited him just fine. Leaning close, he gripped his friend’s shoulder and shook gently. “Hey, buddy. Let them go, come on back.” The blond’s eyes fluttered open. “Ryon?”
“God, I hate when they blindside me,” he rasped. “Why can’t they get that there’s not a damned thing I can do to help them?”
“How many this time?” Nick asked, frowning.
“Two. They were yelling at me, but as usual, the words were garbled. One kept pointing at you, like he was all worked up by what you were telling us.”
“One of the four victims?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. You got photos?”
“Not yet. Grant is sending them by e-mail shortly.”
“Okay.” Ryon rubbed his temples.
“You all right?”
“I’m fine. Not gonna toss my cookies or anything. Sorry about that, guys.”
Hammer thumped him on the back. “Give yourself a break, man. It’s all good.” From the
quiet one of the bunch, it was practically a speech.
Nick got the meeting on track again, keeping a wary eye on Ryon. “So the coroner determines cause of death. Imagine his surprise to discover the men weren’t human.”
Aric whistled through his teeth. “Let the fun begin.”
“No shit.” This from Zan.
“Shifters?” Jaxon wondered aloud. His mind drifted to the suspicions Kira had shared with him and Nick, and the gene/DNA report she’d read. Nick’s eyes met his, and Jaxon knew his boss was thinking the same thing, though how they could be related was a mystery.
“Bingo. To say the coroner got excited is an understatement. Thank Christ Sheriff Deveraux is in our loop and got to the man before he had the chance to blab the news to everyone he knew. Deveraux called Grant, and now we’re ‘assisting’ the sheriff’s office in the investigation. Off the record, of course.”
“Who’s got the bodies?” Zan asked.
“Melina and her team will have them as of this morning, when they pick them up from the coroner. We’ll be able to learn a lot more about the victims after they conduct some tests, much more than a few crime scene pics will tell us.”
Aric leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the table. “This is all real fascinating, but I don’t see what we can do here. I mean, point me at a demon or whatever and I’ll smoke it. Fuck, we’re soldiers, not detectives.”
“Well, it looks like you’ll have to be both,” Nick snapped. “Unless you’ve got another Paranormal Black Ops team on speed dial to take this mess off our hands. No? Didn’t think so.”
Aric shut his trap, but shook his head, his displeasure clear.
Nick parked his ass on the corner of the table. “Our advantage is our Psy skills. We’ll use all of our resources to get a lead on what happened to these poor guys, and why. Which brings us to the drifter in the cemetery. Witnesses report he’s young, early to midtwenties, with collar-length black hair. Deveraux personally ran him off night before last. Said he’s very Goth, wears a heavy silver pentagram, three studs in each ear, black eyeliner, and a black leather duster. Translation—he ain’t from Wyoming.”
That got a good laugh from everyone. “All kidding aside, in light of the discovery of the bodies and their proximity to the cemetery, he’s a person of interest. Deveraux got his name—Kalen Black. Go figure. If the bodies had been found at the time, he would’ve held the guy for questioning. Tonight we’ll stake out the cemetery, see if he shows. If he doesn’t, we’ll ask around and try to pin down where he might’ve gone. We’ll leave at sunset. Questions?”
No one had any, and Jaxon made himself scarce before anyone could ask him where he was going. Hell, this was supposed to be their weekend off, and that had sure been shot to shit, hadn’t it? He was entitled to some of the R & R they’d all been forced to abort last night, and he didn’t feel one bit guilty about taking his due or not inviting his friends to ride into Cody. They were big boys. And where he was going, he didn’t need any tagalongs.
Instead of taking one of the team’s black Mercedes SUVs, he jumped onto his baby—a sleek silver and dark blue Honda Shadow ACE 750, a big, bad boy with plenty of power for the road. Aric and Zan were Harley men, but in Jaxon’s opinion the brand was overrated. Appalled, the other two declared that was just “un-American.” It was a friendly debate they kept going while tinkering in the garage and flexing their muscles, so to speak.
Slipping on his shades, Jaxon took the winding road away from the compound, relishing the wind in his face, raking cool fingers through his hair. Wearing a helmet would’ve been the smart thing, regardless of the fact that adults in Wyoming weren’t required to, but he was feeling a little reckless. Even a shifter couldn’t heal from his brains being splattered all over the pavement, but for a while he simply wanted to feel free. Not trapped by rules and regs. Not to mention by his own nature.
The miles slipped away and he roared into Cody more relaxed. But no less aroused. The purr of the machine between his legs hadn’t helped, but he was going to get that remedied very soon. Forcing himself not to think about how he’d gotten into this state, or who was responsible, he turned onto the familiar street in the older neighborhood and turned up a weed-choked driveway as he’d done several times before.
An ugly thought crept in and he tamped it down with an effort. He was not using Jacee. Hell, she got every bit as much satisfaction from their scorching interludes as he did. All she had to do was say no and order him not to come around anymore, and he wouldn’t. No big deal. But she never once had.
So he parked behind her Focus, shut off the engine, and strode to the door. Fist raised, he hesitated, and then knocked, ignoring the greasy feeling in his gut. It was probably his breakfast refusing to settle. Eggs messed with his stomach sometimes. When Jacee opened up wearing a big smile and stepped aside to let him in, he pushed everything but her from his mind. As she locked the door, he took in her skintight jeans and the snug white top with spaghetti straps that rode just above her midriff and showed off her flat, toned belly. She wore no bra today, and the white cotton hugged full breasts, dark nipples clearly outlined underneath. They puckered under his hungry gaze, anticipating what was to come.
“Wonder what brings you to my humble abode, hmm?” Stalking him like a cat, the brunette stepped up and pressed her lush body against his, twining her arms around his neck. Her full breasts were squashed against his chest and her crotch rode his erection, grinding into him suggestively.
“What do you think, gorgeous?” he replied teasingly. “You got a problem with that?”
“Do I ever?” Her voice was like whiskey, smooth and dangerous. “Damn, it’s been too long.”
His body responded and he captured her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside. She was a tall woman, so he didn’t have to bend his head to enjoy the kiss. She was all curves, built like an Amazon, arms strong from tending bar and tossing out drunken patrons at work. She was tough, rough, sexual, and liked her men the same.
So unlike pretty little Kira.
The thought was so unwelcome, he broke the kiss in reflex and stared into Jacee’s brown eyes. They were smoky with lust as she grinned and palmed the rod in his jeans, stroking it.
“Why don’t we get right to the good stuff?”
He chuckled. “What, no stimulating conversation? Maybe I want to talk about my week.”
She snorted. “Since when? If you want to talk, I’m obviously doing something wrong. Come with me and I’ll cure that for you, hot stuff.”
Taking his hand, she pulled him through the tiny living room into her bedroom, which wasn’t much bigger. But it was large enough for the king-sized bed they’d put through the paces in the past. Stopping beside the bed, she grabbed the edges of the minuscule top and slowly pulled it over her head, revealing her bare breasts. As she tossed it aside, curtains of dark hair tumbled past her shoulders and framed them the way she knew he liked. They bobbed, begging for his mouth, and he obliged, cupping them both and lifting their weight in his palms. He suckled each nipple, scraped gently with his teeth.
Would Kira’s nipples taste as sweet? Better, his mind insisted. Much better. Annoyed with himself, he continued laving the taut peaks until Jacee moaned, dropped to her knees. Hard as an iron spike, he watched as she worked on his jeans, unzipped them. She parted the denim, shoved it down his hips, out of the way. His cock sprang free, flushed and leaking, pointed at her lips. Her tongue swept away the drop of moisture on the bulbous head and he groaned, thrusting his hips toward bliss.
Burying his fingers in her hair, he guided her as she swallowed his cock down her throat. “Fuck, yeah. Suck me.”
She did, sliding it deep, out again, and then repeating. Slow and easy, making him feel so good. He sought the spark they’d enjoyed before, the one that would ignite a tiny flame into an inferno and make it more than good. Spectacular. He reached, but couldn’t find it.
Frowning, he closed his eyes and wondered what it would be like if the hair sliding between his fingers was blond and shoulder-length. If her mouth were smaller, so much so that she might have trouble taking all of him, both sucking and fucking. If her eyes weren’t brown, but sky blue. If her name was different. With the image he wanted firmly in mind, he found the spark and moaned. Yes, just like that. Suck my cock, pretty little angel. And then I’m going to fuck you. Slow and easy. Hard. Rough. Any way you like.
The scent of her arousal invaded his nose, cinnamon and spice. But instead of enhancing his drive, inciting his lust to a new high, it broke through the fog of desire and began to clear his head. Because the scent was all wrong. Dark. It wasn’t citrus and vanilla. It wasn’t crisp and sunny, blue skies and fresh air. It wasn’t that of his Bondmate.
The knowledge washed over his body like icy water. And just like that, in about two seconds flat, his erection went completely limp, like a balloon popped with a straight pin. Jacee pulled off of him and crouched there holding his flaccid cock as if she’d never seen it before. And she hadn’t—not in this pathetic state.
“What the hell?”
Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? Embarrassed, he eased back from her, ruefully tucking himself into his jeans once more and zipping them up.
“I’m sorry, honey. It’s not you,” he lied. It was her, he just didn’t know who to thank for it—the man who wanted Kira, or his stupid shifter biology. But Jacee didn’t have a clue about his true nature, and it wasn’t like he’d ever tell her. “Nothing personal. It’s been a tough week.”
She was not happy. “Join the club.” Standing, she retrieved her top and yanked it back on, smoothed it in place. “Want some coffee? Something stronger?”
He gave her points for trying to salvage an awkward situation. And he knew in that moment he’d never be back. He sensed she knew it, too.
“No, thanks. Some other time?”
“Sure.”
They made nice as she walked him to the front door, for which he was profoundly grateful. Women scorned could be a nasty business.
“Take care, Jax.” There was a sad finality to her words.
“You, too, honey.”
Giving her a quick peck on the cheek, he did his best ghost impression, and vanished. As he drove away, the ants under his skin returned. Without considering why, he turned his bike in the direction of home-sweet-compound and drove as fast as he dared.
Once he got back, he’d be fine. Normal as could be. For a man who was really a lusty beast inside.
Kira told herself she wasn’t disappointed when Jax practically ran from the building as Nick’s meeting dispersed. Where he was going was none of her concern despite his earlier caveman impression —Unga-unga, you smell
like rival male!—but his defection without a backward glance left her at loose ends. Sort of lonely. She didn’t know anyone here very well, even Jax, but she’d thought she and Jax made a connection by the stream. She’d hung around until their meeting was done, hoping he’d take her down to Block R like he’d said he would to get better acquainted with the “residents,” and now it seemed she’d have to find someone else to accompany her since she was under orders not to go alone.
While his mandate not to let him smell another man on her had been kind of exciting at the time, it now infused her with irritation. How much did he really care if he just waltzed off like she didn’t exist? The temptation to seek out Aric to be her protector in Block R rode her shoulder like a mischievous devil, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d seen the results of her failed kiss with Jax’s friend, and wasn’t about to have a repeat of the ugly scene.
Nick would no doubt be too busy doing whatever Alpha leaders did. That left Dr. Mac, or one of the other team members. She’d be more at ease with another woman, but Mac was human. Would she be able to protect her if one of the detainees became violent? She thought not.
Resigned, she went in search of a willing assistant. At the end of the corridor near the dining room, she spotted Zander leaning against the wall, talking with the big, bald man she’d seen earlier. Curious, she studied the bald guy as she approached. He wasn’t classically handsome, but was impressive in a macho, muscled, Vin Diesel kind of way. His resemblance to the actor was remarkable, and he smiled tentatively as he looked away from Zander and saw her approaching.
Her stomach fluttered a bit as she returned the smile, and she decided for sure, homely men were not allowed to apply to work with Alpha Pack. The whole place was a testosterone feast that was about as healthy as downing half of an entire strawberry cheesecake in one sitting.
“Hey, guys,” she said in greeting, and turned to Zander’s friend. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Kira Locke. Call me Kira.”
He held out his hand, which she took. “Kira, I’m Hammer. Nice to meet you.”
“Same here. Did Nick tell either one of you what my new duties are?”
Zander rubbed his chin. “Come to think of it, no. What’s up?”
“He offered me a job. I’m starting tomorrow in the lab as an assistant.”
“Wow, that was fast,” Zan said, studying her. “Then again, the boss isn’t known for dragging his heels when he feels something is right. Congrats.”
Hammer echoed the approval, and she wondered how they’d take the next bit of news. “I’m also going to work with the guests in Block R to get them ready for life in our world. Well, life outside their cells will have to do for now, but you know what I mean.”
“You’re kidding.” He shook his dark head, looking at her in sympathy. “Good luck with that.”
“I need more than luck, I need an assistant. I’m under strict orders from our boss not to go in there alone, and my self-appointed helper seems to have flown the coop.”
“Jax?”
“The one and only. So which one of you is going to volunteer to beard the lion’s den with me?”
Hammer laughed and backed away. “Not me. The last time I went in there snake boy almost ate me. That bastard’s evil.”
Zan arched a brow. “I think he takes exception to being called snake boy to his face.”
“Now ya tell me.”
She looked to Zan. “Come on, I need somebody to step up to the plate here. What do you say?”
“I don’t think so . . .”
“I thought you were wolves, not chickens,” she muttered. “Fine. I’ll just go find Aric. He’ll be willing to—”
“No!” Zan blurted. He cleared his throat. “That won’t be necessary. One dogfight in a week is enough, and next time one or both of them will end up in the infirmary.”
That made her feel sort of bad for coercing him into seeing things her way, but not enough to relent. The memory of the winged guy sitting on his bed, lost and alone, tugged at her. “I don’t want that any more than you, but I can’t do this by myself and those poor souls deserve a fair shake. Can you imagine what it must be like to stare at four walls day after day, not even being from our realm or comprehending our rules? To be without any of your kind to communicate with, devoid of hope?”
“I can more than imagine,” Zan said, eyes softening. “Since it happened to us.”
She groaned aloud at her thoughtless words. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t worry about it. I may regret this, but I’ll help.”
Hammer sighed. “Shit, me, too.”
“Thanks,” she said, shoving aside her embarrassment. Of course these men had been through hell when they’d been turned. How stupid could she be? “Show me the way. I was turned around before, so I’m not sure how to get back there.”
As they started off, Zan commented, “Persuasive little thing, isn’t she? Jax is so screwed and he doesn’t even know it.”
“Hmph,” followed by a small smile was all his friend contributed.
Zan led her in the direction of the place she suspected was the lobby of the infirmary she’d stumbled onto earlier where nobody had been working the desk. Before they reached it, however, he made a couple of turns and strode down a long corridor she recognized. It had a set of double doors at the end marked “Restricted Area.”
She waved a hand at it as they approached and pushed through. “I didn’t see the sign before, but I was able to enter with no problem. How come there’s not a pass card or code required?”
“We don’t get any visitors,” Zan replied. “Besides, this isn’t the high security area for the staff. That would be Block T, in the basement.”
A chill crept down her spine. “What does T stand for?”
“Termination.”
Halting just before the row of cells began, she gaped at Jax’s friend. “What? Nick told me none of the residents of Block R have ever been terminated!”
“That’s true.”
“Then what’s the deal with having a death row on site? I’d like a straight answer to my questions, damn it!”
“He wasn’t lying to you, Kira. He simply isn’t in the habit of giving away more information than is absolutely necessary.” Seeing this wasn’t going to placate her, the dark-haired man continued. “Beings that are not only deadly but evil beyond hope are sent straight to Block T. Do not pass go, etcetera. Not every paranormal creature is redeemable, sweetheart, just as not every human is.”
Kira swallowed hard, struggling with this. She didn’t consider herself a bleeding-heart liberal by any means, but life was precious. Yes, she stood by the law and the guilty deserved to be punished accordingly, but if there was any hope that a soul might be saved, it seemed a waste to extinguish it.
“Are there any residents there now?” she managed in an even tone.
His eyes hardened. “Yes, there’s one. And don’t even think of going down there, hoping to play savior to that scum, do you hear me? He doesn’t want or need Mary Poppins to sweep in with a spoonful of sugar and fix him, and the only reason he isn’t worm food is because he has vital information we need. End of story. Got it?”
“Yes.” She wondered what type of creature he was, but it didn’t matter. No point in arguing. If he was as bad as all that, she’d stay away. Despite her awful curiosity. Dropping the subject, she gestured toward the cell she was most anxious to visit. “Shall we?”
Hammer spoke up, sounding amused. “What, we’re not checking out snake boy first?”
“From the way his disposition has been described, I think he can hold his own for a while.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
The basilisk was going to be a pill, it seemed. But looks could be deceiving and she had to wonder how hard any of them had tried after their help had been initially rebuked. Even humans would snarl or lash out when afraid. Why would these guys be any different?
Zan entered a code on the keypad beside the door, but blocked her view with his body, so she couldn’t see the number sequence. She’d have to earn their trust to gain the codes, and she didn’t blame them. He gave a shove and the heavy door swung inward with a groan. He and Hammer went in first, Kira close on their heels.
She wasn’t sure what to expect, but the sight that greeted them hit her even harder than when she’d seen him before. The slim figure huddled on his bed, wedged in the corner where the walls met, sitting up, knees bent, large azure wings draped protectively around his body, crossed in front. Only the top of his head and his toes were visible, and she couldn’t tell whether he was asleep or not.
Stepping around her two companions, she tried a soft greeting. “Hello? Are you awake?”
No response. She edged closer, brought up short by Zan’s hand on her arm, pulling her back in warning. She shook him off, but stayed put and tried again. “Hey there, are you hungry? Have you had any breakfast?” Immediately, she felt like a fool. Would a member of the Fae know the term “breakfast”? Stupid.
“We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. Would you please speak with us . . . Your Highness?” The last, she’d added on impulse. Why, she wasn’t sure. Just that it seemed right, as though she was picking up a vibe from the gorgeous man. Whatever the case, it turned out to be the right thing to say.
Slowly, he raised his head, his wings lowering just enough to allow him to study her and still shield his nakedness. She expected his eyes to be blue, but they were gold. Brilliant, luminous, clear gold, like the eyes of an eagle she’d once seen behind bars at a zoo. But unlike the bird, there was nothing proud or fierce about his gaze, though she sensed his bearing might’ve been different, once.
Defeated. Whatever he’d been before, that was the best word to describe him now—not to mention tired, and more than a little wary of what the newcomer wanted of him. There might have been a brief spark of curiosity as well, but she couldn’t be certain. Cocking his head, he surprised them all by ordering her softly, “Come closer.”
As she started to obey, Zander laid a hand on her arm, and again she shook him off. Perhaps she was naïve not to be more afraid, but she felt she could trust Blue. Or whatever his name was. Getting him to trust her or anyone else might be a challenge. When she’d moved nearly to the edge of his bare mattress, he held up his gloved, bound hands, indicating for her to stop.
Immediately, both men stepped in front of her and growled a dual warning at the winged man. Belatedly she recalled that this being had supposedly immobilized half their team with a single gesture. But he’d been fighting for his life then, or so he’d undoubtedly believed. Something told her that even if his hands were free, he wouldn’t do the same again without a very good cause. She hoped she wasn’t wrong.
“Honestly, how am I supposed to make any progress with you overgrown bullies getting in my way?” Crossly, she stepped around them and caught their incredulous expressions.
“Bullies! That firefly over there just about turned us into pillars of salt,” Zan protested.
“Hush and let me concentrate.” Giving her attention back to Blue, she had another pleasant jolt. He was sitting up straighter, regarding her with rapt attention, lips curved the smallest fraction.
“Who are you?” The smooth, melodic quality of his voice rushed over her like cool water.
“I’m Kira Locke. Like you, I’m new here. Really new—today’s my first day.”
“You are my jailor?”
“What? No! I’m going to be a lab assistant and sort of a caretaker.”
He looked puzzled. “Lab assistant?”
“It’s someone who helps a doctor around the lab with—well, never mind that at the moment. Too much information. The important thing is, I’m going to take care of you and the other creatures here, make you feel at home.”
Instantly she regretted her poor choice of words as his face fell and sadness once again replaced the curiosity. “I have no home. I am outcast.”
“From where?” she prodded gently.
“The Seelie High Court. I was a prince. Now I am nothing,” he whispered.
She shook her head. “I disagree there, but we’ll work on it. Is that why you were running loose on the streets in Ireland when the team found you? Had you just been cast out?”
“Yes. I was in Ireland once, as a child, but when I was tossed through the gate, I was disoriented and frightened. People were screaming and I ran. I meant no harm.”
Remorse colored his voice, and she knew he spoke the truth.
“Why didn’t you just tell that to the Alpha Pack guys when they came for you? Could’ve saved yourself a bunch of trouble.”
“As I said, I was frightened. I thought they were sent by my sire to kill me.”
“What’s your name?”
“Sariel.”
She smiled. “What a beautiful name. It suits you.”
Ducking his head, he flushed. “Thank you.”
“Who’s your father? Do you think he’ll follow you here?”
This evoked a bitter laugh. “My sire is Malik. He’ll stop at nothing to see me dead. He is Unseelie, and is the reason I’m no longer welcome in my world.”
Not promising. “You’re royalty, right? Can’t your people protect you?”
“From Malik? You know nothing of Unseelie, then. They are little better than demons, and Malik is the worst. When the Seelie High Court learned that I’m a Halfling, they were upset enough. But when they found out Malik is my sire, public outcry forced them to banish me rather than risk facing his wrath. You see, he’s on a quest to destroy me and will kill anyone who gets in his way.”
“Why? I don’t understand.” How awful for Sariel.
“Does it matter? He is a rotten stench, a pestilence in any land he chooses to corrupt.” Sariel paused, as though searching for the right term. “Malik is the evil that time forgot. And now he is risen.”