Contents

Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Special Excerpt

Black Magic

An Alpha Pack Novella

J. D. Tyler

New American Library
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Published by New American Library,
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First E-Book Printing, March 2012

Copyright © J. D. Tyler, 2012
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are
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Also by J.D. Tyler

Primal Law

1

Kalen Black knew he should stay inside tonight––or rather, remain at the Alpha Pack’s top
secret compound, the place he currently called “home.”

A malevolent force moved in the night, something ancient and evil. Its physical

presence prickled over the Sorcerer’s skin like static electricity, raised the hair on the back
of his neck. He couldn’t identify what type of being it was, and didn’t know what it was
after.

Yet.
The presence wasn’t human, he knew. But that didn’t mean the entity wasn’t here on

behalf of Orson Chappell, CEO of NewLife Technology, the Pack’s number one enemy. The
man was responsible for hideous experiments on humans and shifters in an attempt to
merge their DNA and gene strands in hopes of creating a new breed of super-shifter.

Hell, I’m a Sorcerer with the ability to shift into a rare panther. If Chappell’s somehow

heard of me, the asshole might’ve sent one of his lackeys to snatch my ass.

Or the approaching danger could be from his past, returned to exact due punishment

for his mistakes. God knows he’d made more than his share while scraping to survive. The
memory of one awful transgression in particular made his blood run cold, and he prayed
with all his soul that the threat prowling nearby had nothing to do with him directly. Yes,
he should stay inside—except that he didn’t have it in him to hide when his sins may have
placed his new friends in the line of fire.

He had no choice. Tonight, he would ignore the internal warning that had saved his ass

so many times before. Because he’d heard that a certain gentle doctor with dark, curly
hair and a winsome smile had driven into town to meet with friends, and in doing so had
unknowingly placed herself at risk. Sure, odds were she’d be fine, but it wasn’t a gamble
he was willing to take.

Not where Mackenzie Grant was concerned.
Parking his butt on the bed in his assigned living quarters, Kalen pulled on his

shitkickers, lacing them snugly. Straightening, he pushed up and strode into the living
room, snatching his battered leather duster off one of the recliners. Rain or shine, he
never went anywhere without it. Capping off the rest of his Goth appearance, the long
coat sent just the right do not fuck with me message that any potential enemy would be
wise to heed.

Most humans simply thought he was a freak, and all but the dumbest gave him a wide

berth.

Those who weren’t human didn’t need but a few minutes at most to figure out what

they were dealing with—a Sorcerer/Necromancer whose animal was a black panther, and
whose power far exceeded the level most of them had seen in a man of twenty-three.

Kalen wasn’t arrogant about his power, though, not even close. He’d been treated like

a fuckin’ weirdo his entire life, even by his own parents. He almost wished he could give it
up, could be normal, but his power was all he had on this earth, and he was forced to rely
on it to survive.

Sort of a vicious cycle, when you thought about it.
Shrugging into the coat, he headed out the door and down the hallway, intent on

finding his new boss, Nick Westfall. Alpha Pack’s leader, who was a wolf shifter and
PreCog, seemed like a decent enough guy—he’d given Kalen a shot at joining the team,
after all—and Kalen hoped to borrow the keys to one of the SUVs. Lost in thought, he
rounded the corner and almost barreled into Jaxon Law.

“Oh, hey!” Kalen stepped back, giving the tall, goateed brute an apologetic smile. Even

he’d think twice before messing with the big bastard, or any of the Pack, for that matter.
Would be kinda tough to use his magic with his throat ripped out by a bunch of badass
wolf shifters. “Sorry about that, guess I was in too big a hurry.”

“No problem. Where’s the fire?” One corner of Jax’s mouth lifted as though he knew the

answer. Which the shifter shouldn’t, being a RetroCog—someone who could “see” events
of the past by holding an object to get a reading.

He shrugged, faking nonchalance. “Just going out for a while. Wanna go grab a beer in

town?”

The man thought about it briefly, then shook his head. “Nah, I’d better hang around.

Thanks for asking, though.”

“Already got the mating blues?”
“You know it. I promised Kira we’d have dinner and a movie in our quarters tonight,

just the two of us. Women, you know?”

Kalen didn’t buy his put-upon sigh for a second. “Yeah. I’m sure it’s such a hardship,

spending the evening alone with your hot little blonde. Anytime you want a break from
that, I’ll be glad to step in—”

“Dream on,” his friend growled, only half-joking. “I’d hate to disembowel the Pack’s

newest member.”

He grinned. “Ah, well. You can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Sure I can.”
Laughing, Kalen clapped a hand on Jax’s shoulder, completely surprising himself. It

wasn’t often he initiated any kind of a touch, and that said a lot about how much he was
starting to trust these guys. “You’ve got it bad, big guy. Me, I’m gonna go grab that beer.”

“Sorry,” the shifter said sincerely. “I get a little nuts over Kira.”
“Ya think?” He winked. “Forget it. If I had a woman, I’d be the same way. Say, you

wouldn’t happen to have the keys to one of the SUVs on you? It’s a long walk otherwise.”
Everyone knew he didn’t own a vehicle of any kind. Hell, he’d had nothing but his
backpack the day the Pack had found him in one of the local cemeteries, raising a corpse
while investigating a series of murders.

“Oh, sure.” Digging in his front jeans pocket, he brought out a ring and tossed it to

Kalen. “Where exactly are you going?”

He caught and palmed the ring, considering his answer. In the end, he settled for a

half-truth. “The Grizzly. Mackenzie’s in town. I thought I’d catch up with her, have a
drink.”

Jax stared at him a long moment, as though trying to detect any deception. Then his

lips curved upward. “Good luck if you hope to get a piece of that. Her daddy will eat your

liver for dinner.”

“Whatever, man.” He rolled his eyes, reaching for a calm he didn’t feel.
“Bring the Escalade back in one piece or it’s my ass.”
“You bet, and thanks. See ya.”
Kalen took off before Jax could form more questions about why he was in such a hurry,

and to do nothing more than have a beer with Mackenzie in Nowheresville, Wyoming, on
the edge of the Shoshone National Forest, no less. Jax sensed something more was going
on than what he’d said, and Kalen didn’t want to get everyone excited over what might
turn out to be nothing.

As he jogged outside and headed for the ginormous hangar that housed all of their

various methods of transportation, he wondered why he hadn’t simply come clean about
all his reasons for going in to town.

Because he didn’t want the others to get wind of his infatuation with a woman who

couldn’t possibly want a tramp like him? Maybe.

Because after nearly half a lifetime of surviving alone, he didn’t trust anyone else to

come to his aid if there was trouble? Probably.

Because he didn’t want any of his new friends’ deaths on his conscience if things went

south? Definitely.

Oh, that doesn’t bode well for succeeding on this team, does it? What would Nick say

or do if he knew you were going off half-cocked with a bad feeling and no backup? Maybe
he knows already.

Well, if Nick with his PreCog abilities did know, he hadn’t tried to stop Kalen from

leaving or suggest anyone else accompany him. That would have to be good enough to
soothe his inner doubt. Besides, he’d handled trouble alone since he was a kid. He wasn’t
used to relying on others, on trusting anyone to have his back. For a loner, learning to be
part of a team wasn’t easy

Damn, he wasn’t used to worrying about other people or what they thought. And it

sucked.

That didn’t stop him from making tracks into town as fast as he dared. He didn’t want

to get pulled over—he’d had a run-in with the sheriff when he first arrived in the area and
didn’t care for a heartfelt reunion. The cops hadn’t helped him long ago when he’d
needed them, and nothing had changed.

Twenty-five minutes later, he pulled up in the parking lot of the Crosseyed Grizzly, the

local hangout that was just about as classy as it sounded. Fine by him; he didn’t do fancy.
The people were nice and down to earth—mostly—and the drinks were cheap.

Best of all, Mackenzie was here. Mac to her friends, and he absolutely hated that

nickname. Mac sounded like a truck driver with a belt buckle overlap. But Mackenzie was
beautiful, kind, and funny. As great as the team had been to him so far, she was one of
the first people besides Nick to actually approach and welcome him to the fold, to treat
him like a person who mattered. And her smile . . . God, that wide smile and the way her
blue eyes lit up as she spoke to him had been like a kick to the balls.

Anxious, he searched for a parking spot and finally found one toward the back, close to

the edge of the woods. It was dark back here and he didn’t like it. He liked it even less

when he saw that Mackenzie’s car was only a couple of spaces away. The thought of her
walking back here in the dark with no protection set his teeth on edge. Well, he was here
now and he’d make sure she got back to the compound safely.

And soon. A chill slithered through his body, and a sense of urgency quickened his

steps. Something nasty was on the prowl, and it would be best not to linger.

Pushing inside, he steeled himself against the twangy country music—what the fuck

else would they play in a place named after a drunk bear?—and scanned the room for the
doc. He didn’t have to search for long. She was at the long bar between two other
women, carrying on an animated conversation. He stood still for a moment, just drinking
her in.

She was of medium height, though it was hard to tell with her sitting. Her build was

lithe, arms and thighs toned as though she worked out in the compound’s gym, but not
enough to get too much muscle. He made a mental note to try to catch her in action,
sweating away.

That particular thought made his dick perk up with interest. He’d like to make her

sweat during a hard workout, all right. And not in the gym.

An astounding thought for a man who usually went out of his way to avoid sex, or any

form of intimacy whatsoever.

Automatically, his gaze went to where her tight, jeans-encased ass was perched on the

barstool, looking like a firm apple he’d love to take a bite of. His scan moved upward to
her narrow waist and on to the fitted red tank top with the spaghetti straps that hugged
her breasts nicely. Curly dark brown hair fell in waves to her shoulders and framed the
loveliest face he’d ever seen. Her profile was an amazing mix of delicacy and strength.
Her cheek bones were fine, eyes large and framed by long lashes, her smile easy on a
mouth that some might think too big. Too friendly.

But he’d seen how she was strong when she needed to be, especially when it involved

a patient. She was perfectly capable of standing her ground with the men of the Pack,
and did so frequently. He’d heard that her father, General Jarrod Grant, was Nick’s contact
in the military, and he figured she came by the “tough gene” honest.

But she wasn’t strong enough to win against the evil that permeated the air, closer

than before. Something big was on the hunt.

Suddenly anxious to get to her side, Kalen took a couple of steps forward—and found

his path blocked by one of the local yokels who, no doubt, the building was named after.
He resembled a grizzly, too, really hairy and sporting a big gut.

“Weeell, whattawe have here?” His grin boasted grungy, blackened front teeth.
So, the asshole was swimming in the shallow end of the gene pool. Good news. The

bad news was the top of Kalen’s head came to the guy’s chin. His right hand twitched,
itching for his Sorcerer’s staff. But he couldn’t call it, or utter a spell, in such a public
place, especially since they were gaining an audience.

“I’m joining someone, and I’ve got no problem with you, mister. So if you’ll move aside,

I’ll be about my biz.”

The shithead blinked, and then turned to share a too-loud laugh with his equally IQ-

deficient buddies. “Ya hear that? Pretty boy wants me to move!” Chuckling, he smiled at

Kalen, an unpleasant gleam in his beady eyes. “I think you’d best be the one headin’ back
the way you came, ’cause we don’t take kindly to queers around here.”

Wasn’t the first time his appearance had drawn a comment like that, and he didn’t

care. Now they had everyone’s undivided attention. Glancing past the jerk, he saw that
Mackenzie and her friends had spun around on their barstools and sat gaping at the
scene. Fantastic. Returning his attention to the mountain in front of him, he kept his
expression neutral and spoke evenly.

“Then you and your fuck buddies might want to leave.”
It took the guy a few seconds to get it as he stared at Kalen. When he did, his lip

curled, all traces of false humor gone. “I’m gonna give you to the count of three, boy—”

Ignoring him, Kalen made to push past him, not really believing the asshole would let it

go. He didn’t.

A beefy shoulder connected with him, hard, knocking him back a couple of steps. The

man was still planted firmly in his way. Clenching his fists, he forced himself to remain
calm—and to not turn the guy into a fat slug, right in front of the entire bar.

“Mister, trust me when I say you don’t want to mess with me,” he said calmly. The jerk

and his buddies thought this was hilarious, hooting and clanking their longneck bottles
together, then turning their avid attention back to the coming fight.

There wouldn’t be one if he could help it. Mackenzie was staring at him, eyes wide and

worried. More than anything he didn’t want to disappoint her by getting into a brawl, but
he wasn’t about to let a sack of shit run him down in front of her, either.

“I’ll do more than mess with you, boy! I’ll pound you into the floor.”
“Bigger sons of bitches than you have tried.”
Some had actually succeeded. Best not to think of that now, when he couldn’t afford

the distraction.

Again, Kalen attempted to step around the man, but two meaty hands landed on his

chest, giving him a hard shove. He staggered backward, managed not to fall—but his
tight control over his temper snapped.

“No one touches me,” he snarled.
And took two steps forward, unloading his fist into the bastard’s face. The man’s head

jerked back and he stumbled into a nearby table. The couple sitting there jumped up, the
woman letting out a shriek as they scrambled out of the way. Kalen’s nemesis lost his
balance as the table tipped, and was dumped into the floor.

Kalen’s body tensed as the man brought a hand to his nose and wiped away a trickle of

blood. He knew he was in trouble when the man’s lip curled into an ugly sneer and his
friends stood, chairs scraping in the silence, beers abandoned and amusement gone.

“Fuckin’ kill him!” the bastard shouted, lurching to his feet.
Kalen had about two seconds to brace himself before a wall of pissed-off rednecks

buried him in a sweaty, stinky dogpile. A fist slammed the side of his head and more
found his ribs. The air rushed from his lungs and he bucked, pushing at the closest one, to
no avail. He wasn’t going to be able to budge them without using his magic—and at the
moment, his actions were concealed from the crowd.

Quickly, he summoned a bit of power and channeled it, letting the stream of energy

flow to his fingertips. A whispered word fell from his lips and the weight suddenly
disappeared as the four men flew off him and landed like dominos pushed by an invisible
finger. The sight would’ve been funny except he’d only succeeded in pissing them off even
more.

“You little fuck!” one of the men bellowed.
“How’d he do that?” a nearby patron asked in awe.
The question would remain unanswered. As he pushed to his feet, the bully who’d

started the confrontation smashed a heavy fist into his mouth, and pain exploded in his
face. He landed on his ass, thinking he just might get it thoroughly kicked when a
booming voice brought the fight to a screeching halt.

“What in the motherfuckin’ hell is going on here?”
The crowd parted to make way for a tall, blond man just this side of thirty who looked

like he might’ve spent time in the military. His back was ramrod straight and he had the
bearing of a man used to giving orders, and having them followed. His gaze immediately
found Kalen’s tormentor and his buddies, and if the clenching of his jaw and expression of
distaste was any indication, he’d located the source of the problem.

Beer Gut went on the defensive. “Aw, come on, Jack. We was just havin’ us a little fun

with the fruitcake is all. Didn’t mean no harm—”

“Save it, Billy,” the man said coldly. “This was your last chance. Now get out of my

place and don’t come back. Any of you.”

Billy blinked at Jack, whom Kalen figured was the owner. “You don’t mean that! We

buy a lot of booze, keepin’ you in business—”

“And you think that gives you the right to terrorize my other customers? Get out. Now.

I won’t need the sheriff to take out the trash, either.” The steel in his tone brooked no
argument. The man meant every word, and had the toned muscle to back it up.

Billy swallowed, backing down like the coward he was. “Fine. We don’t want to hang

out in this dump anyways.”

Throwing Kalen one last glare, the man shuffled out, his buddies following behind with

a few muttered curses. A hand appeared in front of Kalen’s face and he saw that Jack was
offering him help up. Despite his aversion to being touched, he sensed no threat from the
Grizzly’s owner and took the assistance, allowing himself to be hauled to his feet.

“Thanks.”
“No problem. I knew it was just a matter of time before Billy and his band of

dumbasses gave me an excuse to ban them for good.” The man’s light gray eyes twinkled
with humor.

Kalen found himself smiling back. “Glad I could help.”
“You did. In fact, I’m so grateful, your drinks are on the house.” Clapping Kalen on the

shoulder, he steered him toward the bar. “What’s your poison?”

“That’s an offer I won’t refuse. Bourbon and cola, if you don’t mind.”
“You’ve got it. Lonnie?” he called.
“Heard it, boss,” the bartender yelled back. “Bourbon and cola, coming up!”
Jack turned back to Kalen. “Do you need medical attention? I’d be glad to call for the

medics, or drive you to the emergency clinic.”

“Nah, there’s already a doctor in the house,” he said, giving Mackenzie a pointed look.

“I’m betting she can take care of what ails me.”

Jack followed his gaze to where the doc in question sat, and chuckled. “I’ll bet she can

at that. Say, you might want to hit the men’s room anyway,” he said, gesturing to Kalen’s
bleeding mouth.

Kalen stopped short of where Mackenzie sat with her friends, and felt the weight of

their stares as he thanked the bar owner. “I appreciate the save, and the drink.”

“No big. You did me a favor.” With a nod at Kalen and a wink at the gaping trio, he

walked off to tend to whatever business was pressing.

“Kalen,” Mackenzie gasped, sliding from the stool to stand in front of him. “Are you all

right?”

“Sure,” he said. “Never better.” His grin felt lopsided, his lip already a bit fat with the

swelling. Shit, this wasn’t how he’d wanted her to see him—with his face bruised, lip split
and bloodied. “I think I’m going to take Jack’s advice and hit the restroom, wash up
some.”

“Jack?”
She didn’t know the Grizzly’s owner. That small fact made his heart sing. “The owner

who tossed out Billy Beer Gut and his friends.”

“Oh. Well, hurry back.” She gave him a smile that damned near buckled his knees.
“I will.”
As he hustled to the men’s room, he held on to the image of her pretty face, how those

blue eyes sparkled with warmth when they regarded him. As though he was special, even
if he knew he wasn’t. How her pert nose crinkled when she grinned, the musical sound of
her laugh.

God, he was an idiot.
A classy, educated woman like her would never look at him with real desire. She was a

doctor, could have any man she wanted. And he was too much of a head case lugging
around way too much baggage. But he could dream.

In the men’s room, he checked his face in the mirror and winced. A bruise was forming

near his temple and was sore to the touch, but at least it was mostly covered by his hair.
As he’d thought, his lip was split and a little swollen. Not as bad as he feared, however,
once he’d splashed it with water and dabbed it with a paper towel. The wound had
already stopped bleeding and it wasn’t too terrible. Too bad he couldn’t heal it, but his
magic didn’t work like that.

Throwing away the paper towel, he left and made his way back to the bar where

Mackenzie waited with her two girlfriends. Their chatting was more subdued this time,
and he hated that the incident with the rednecks had put a blight on their evening. It
wasn’t the worst he’d dealt with, not by a long shot, but these women shouldn’t have
been subjected to the crap that followed him wherever he went.

Their attention turned to him as he walked up and stood next to Mackenzie. “Hey,

ladies. Sorry about the trouble.”

“It’s not your fault,” Mackenzie said, frowning. Gently, she pushed aside a lock of hair

and examined the bruise on his temple. “We need to get some ice on that and your lip to

keep the swelling down.”

The attention from the woman of his fantasies both pleased and embarrassed him. “I’m

good. No need to draw more attention to myself than I’ve already had.”

One of the doc’s friends, a skinny blonde with big breasts, leaned toward him from her

perch on her barstool. Lifting a brown longneck bottle, she reached out, attempting to
touch it to his lip. “Poor baby,” she crooned, raking him from head to toe with a heated
look. “I’ve got something cold right here to make it better.”

Kalen eased back, avoiding the woman’s touch. The last thing he wanted was to

encourage one of Mackenzie’s friends to flirt with him. The blonde’s eyes widened in
surprise at his withdrawal, and he gave a laugh, thinking that she definitely wasn’t used
to being refused. “Really, I’m fine, but thanks . . . I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Amy,” the blonde said, recovering a bit from his blatant rejection of her attentions.

“That’s Shannon, and it seems you already know Mac.”

“Hi,” Shannon, a brunette, said shyly.
“Yes, I know Mackenzie,” he affirmed, deliberately using her full name, then giving her

a warm smile. “We work together. I’m Kalen.”

The blonde nodded. “Oh! So you two are coworkers at the research place. Cool.”
“Yeah, cool,” he muttered. Christ, he hoped he hadn’t blundered. He no more looked

like a scientist than Criss Angel would. The few locals who knew about the fenced and
well-protected compound situated deep in the Shoshone believed it to be a government-
run medical research facility. Period.

Only the Alpha Pack’s and the doctors’ most trusted family and friends knew the whole

truth; that the compound housed a team of shifters whose job was to be called anywhere
in the world on a moment’s notice, to eliminate the world’s most lethal human and
supernatural enemies. Nor did folks know that the “medical research” facility housed
there was actually the Institute of Parapsychology, and their role was to learn all they
could about shifters and other paranormal beings in order to keep them mentally and
physically healthy.

To his relief, Amy and Shannon seemed to accept his “job” without question and

moved on to new subjects, probably because being a “medical researcher” just wasn’t
that interesting. Soon, Amy and Shannon became engaged in a lively discussion of the
available man-booty in the bar, leaving Kalen free to lean over and whisper in
Mackenzie’s ear.

“We need to go.”
Pulling back, she eyed him in concern. “Why?” she asked in a low voice, making sure

they weren’t overheard. “Has something happened?”

He knew she was referring to an emergency at the compound, perhaps with injuries

she needed to attend. “No, nothing like that. It’s just this feeling I have.” The urgency of
his message gave him an excuse to touch her arm, stand so near that her light, floral
scent drove him crazy. His cock threatened to roar to life, and he took a deep breath,
fighting to regain control. “Something bad is hanging around. I don’t know what it is, but
when I heard you’d gone out I got worried. I came to make sure you got back safely.”

She glanced at her friends, who weren’t paying attention to them, and looked to Kalen

again, expression concerned. “You could’ve called me instead of risking coming out
yourself.”

Her worry on his account, twice in one night, did something funny inside his chest. “I

called, left you a message earlier.” He pointed to the purse hanging from its strap on the
backrest of her stool. “Guess you haven’t checked your phone, so it’s a good thing I
planned to show up anyway.”

Her face colored. “Sorry about that. I know I should look at it more often when I’m

out.”

“Well, I’m here now and that’s what matters. Can you make your excuses? I have this

feeling that we need to go now. In fact, if you can get them to go home as well, do it.”

Maybe this awful sense of impending doom would vanish after they left. After the

unknown entity got bored or whatever, and went on its way.

“Hey guys,” Mackenzie said, rising from her stool and placing her purse strap over her

shoulder. “Kalen and I are going to head out, call it a night.”

Amy glanced between them and instantly got the wrong idea. “Ooh, lucky girl! Wish my

knight in shining leather would swoop in and whisk me away! Maybe we’ll score, though,
now that there’s one less in the competition.”

Mackenzie gave her friend a pointed look. “You two have to work tomorrow, or did you

forget? Six in the morning will come awfully early if you don’t get your asses home.”

Kalen noticed how she didn’t correct her friend’s impression of them. He wished he

really was here to grab Mackenzie for the reason Amy thought.

Shannon sighed, standing. “Mac’s right. I can’t stay out late tonight, much as I’d love

to. We have a big meeting in the morning.”

“Party poopers,” Amy said, pouting. To Kalen’s relief, she grabbed her purse, too. “Fine.

We’ll save the real fun for Friday, maybe? Close the place down?”

Shannon nodded. “Sounds good.”
“I’ll have to see,” Mackenzie replied vaguely.
Kalen didn’t like the idea of her returning with those two to go on the prowl for a man,

as Amy so obviously wanted. Hated it, in fact. But he had no right to voice an opinion,
even if it made his stomach hurt to envision Mackenzie in another man’s arms.

Made him want to kill somebody.
Kalen escorted the doc to the exit, resting his hand at the small of her back. It felt so

damned natural, touching her, keeping her close to his side. He, who normally hated
being in close proximity to others. He marveled at the wonderful feeling all the way
outside, to the parking lot, where Mackenzie said good-bye to her friends with hugs and
light kisses on the cheek.

Watching them, a little shard pierced his heart. He envied the easy closeness, the

physical touch that most people took for granted. He yearned for it.

And feared it as he did nothing else.
He and Mackenzie watched as her friends got into their cars, which were parked in the

front lot. Once they were safely on their way, he looked at the doc.

“I’ll walk with you. I’m parked in the back, just a couple of spaces from you.”
She smiled. “My knight in shining leather?” she quipped, echoing her friend.

He managed a grin in return. “If that’s what floats your boat.”
Her laugh buoyed his spirits, lightened his soul in spite of the urgency pressing in on

him harder than before, to get them the hell gone. Simply being near her was enough to
send his senses reeling, cloud his judgment.

Mackenzie was quickly becoming his greatest weakness.
And he wasn’t certain he cared one bit.

2

Mackenzie studied Kalen as they walked in the darkness, their boots crunching on the
gravel lot. The man was, hands down, the most intriguing guy she’d ever met.

Considering the guys she worked with, not to mention that at thirty-one she had a few

years on Kalen, that was saying a helluva lot.

The Sorcerer/Necromancer might be only twenty-three, but the sorrow in his kohl-

rimmed, jewel-green eyes was ageless. He carried his ancient power as easily as he wore
his long, battered duster, silver pentagram pendant, and black-tipped fingernails—
comfortably and without apology.

His beautiful face was an arresting combination of youth and maturity. His pale skin

was smooth, unlined. Dark brows arched over large eyes framed with long lashes, and his
nose was straight. His jaw was strong, with a faint shadow of stubble, his shoulders broad
but not too much so, hips narrow. He was on the tall side, a bit over six feet, built lean,
like the panther he was. Jet-black hair fell in long, messy layers to his shoulders, and she
thought he’d look right at home with an electric guitar slung low at his waist.

Yep, the total package attested to the fact that this was no boy, but a man.
A man who’d captured her undivided attention from the moment she’d met him as the

Pack’s newest recruit, weeks ago. He’d been homeless, adrift and starving—not only for
food, but for a place to belong. For people who cared about him. She sincerely hoped he’d
found what he was looking for.

Because that meant he’d stay. At least for a while.
Yes, she knew it was silly to pin too many hopes on snagging an elusive man like

Kalen. She didn’t need to be told he’d had it rough, that his story, if he ever saw fit to
share it, would be a heartbreaking one. Nick and the Pack knew some of Kalen’s past, but
they wouldn’t gossip about something so private. Nor would she want them to, but she
couldn’t help but be insanely curious about the Sorcerer.

She longed to know him—in every way.
What would he look like naked? Gorgeous, no doubt. All sleek muscles, a firm, tight ass

begging for her two hands to squeeze it as he—

“Here we are,” he said, interrupting her fantasy.
Somehow they’d arrived at the back lot near the woods and were now standing behind

her car, and she hadn’t even noticed. Clearing her throat, she peered at him in the
darkness. “Thanks for the armed escort.”

“No problem,” he said softly. For a moment he went quiet, simply gazing at her as

though he wanted to say something. Or perhaps close the foot or so between them and
give her a slow, delicious kiss.

Do it, she willed him. You know you want to!
As if he’d heard her silent entreaty, he stepped a little closer. His eyes never leaving

hers, he raised an arm and reached out, smoothing back a lock of curly hair and tucking it
behind her ear. Then his fingers grazed her cheek, traced her lips.

Heart tripping, she stood mesmerized by the sight of him, the expression of pure need

on his face, body electrified by a simple caress. Any second, he’d move in for that kiss . . .

But then he gestured to her car, taking a step back. “Go ahead and get in. I’ll follow

you.”

Smothering the sudden pang of disappointment, she nodded. “Okay.”
He turned and she watched him stride for one of the compound’s SUV’s, admiring how

his duster billowed behind him like a cloak. A really cool one, appropriate for a modern-
day Sorcerer. She was so intent on her study of him, she almost missed the muffled grunt
that sounded from somewhere behind her.

But Kalen heard it, and whirled, his face a mask of horror as he shouted, “Mackenzie,

run!”

And so, like an idiot, she spun to look for the threat. The sight that greeted her turned

her legs to noodles, and caused a scream to lodge in her throat. She’d seen one of these
creatures before, but only inside Block T, the cell area where Nick had kept one
incarcerated in hopes of gaining more information about it.

Standing at the edge of the woods, not twenty feet away, was a huge creature with

leathery, bat-like wings and a pushed-in face full of razor-sharp teeth. It rushed forward
with a screech and she ran toward Kalen. But she moved too late.

Pain blossomed in her shoulder as the thing struck, knocking her to the ground. She hit

hard on her hands and knees with a cry, hearing Kalen’s angry yell over the creature’s
roar. Kalen hauled her up, gave her a shove toward the SUV.

“Get in!”
She ran, but the thing was right behind her, swatting Kalen to the ground as it took off

in pursuit. Oh, God! Please, please let him be all right!

Reaching the back of the Escalade, she barely had time to dive underneath the back

end before the creature hit, shaking the whole vehicle violently. Crawling to the middle,
palms stinging, she drew in her arms and legs as much as she could considering there
wasn’t much clearance between her body and the undercarriage of the SUV.

Panting hard, she saw the shadow of the thing’s bulk as it crouched. One yellowed

eyeball peered under the bumper at her and she whimpered, heart pounding. With
another shriek, it swiped its arm underneath over and over, trying to get at her. One pass
sliced a tire and it began to hiss, losing air.

“Hey, you ugly bastard!” Kalen yelled. “Eat this!”
A bolt lit up the night, and Mackenzie heard the creature scream in pain this time, saw

its bulk leap away from the back end. The thing scrambled away from the vehicle and she
was terrified it was going for Kalen. Moving as far from safety as she dared, she looked
from under the SUV and her breath caught.

Kalen and the creature were locked in battle, the Sorcerer’s duster lying discarded on

the ground, she guessed so he could move more easily. Blood ran down one arm from a
deep gash. The silver pendant gleamed on his chest, and his hair tumbled wildly about
his face, which was twisted in a feral snarl. He was completely focused on destroying
their enemy. Confident. In that moment, she had little doubt he’d succeed.

But she was still afraid. This creature was an unknown, and his brethren had wiped out

half of Alpha Pack six months ago, right before Nick took over as the team’s commander.

Since then, they’d failed to learn what these creatures were, where they came from and
who they answered to, if anyone.

This one wasn’t any more inclined to share than the others had been. His only focus

seemed to be annihilating both of them.

The creature lunged at Kalen, and he jumped out of the way, a glow of blue light

appearing in his palm. He hurled the sphere and it exploded in the beast’s face, causing it
to roar in pain and rage. Slivers of what she could only describe as electricity spread in
jagged fingers from the point of impact to encompass the entire beast. Power sizzled over
the creature’s hide and it began to leap from foot to foot, shrieking, eyes wide.

The pungent stench of burning flesh reached her nostrils. The shockwaves of electricity

vanished and the beast slumped to the ground, panting. Then a long Sorcerer’s staff
appeared in Kalen’s right palm and uttering a spell in Latin, he pointed the end of the
staff toward the creature that was struggling to rise. It never got the chance.

A single bolt of brilliant orange-red light shot from the end of the staff, blasting the

beast in the chest. The torch-like fire ate through its chest, incinerating what she
assumed to be the heart and in seconds, it fell. This time it was dead. Smoke rose from
the creature in wisps and she felt an inexplicable wave of sadness.

Kalen shared no such sentiment. Nudging the beast with his toe, his expression was

cold. “Good riddance.”

She crawled from underneath the SUV as Kalen began a chant. The creature’s body

began to break down, shrivel, until finally it disintegrated. Another whispered word from
the Sorcerer, and the ashes swirled into the air and vanished into the night. His staff
disappeared and he strode for her, closing the distance quickly.

Grabbing her upper arms, he began to check her for injuries, patting her limbs. “God,

Mackenzie,” he rasped. “Are you all right?”

Suddenly she became aware of the burning pain in her left shoulder. She’d forgotten

about it, but now that the adrenaline rush was over, it totally eclipsed the stinging in her
palms and knees from sliding on the concrete when she dove under the SUV. “My back. I
think it scratched me.”

Moving around behind her, he cursed. “The fucker got you. Looks like he caught your

shoulder with a claw. We need to get you back so Dr. Mallory can take care of it.”

“Hey, I’m a doctor,” she said.
“But you can’t reach your back, and it’s not smart to treat yourself. You know that, but

I think you’re in a bit of shock.”

“You think?” she retorted.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her toward the SUV. “Let’s go. We’ll

have somebody come and get your car later.”

She shook her head, tugging him in the direction of her car instead. “The beastie

slashed one of the tires on the Escalade. We’ll have to take mine.”

“Goddammit.” He sighed. “Nick’s gonna shit monkeys.”
“It’s not your fault some ugly-ass bat decided to try and eat me for dinner! Hell, if you

hadn’t come to fetch me home, he would’ve succeeded!” She actually felt the shudder
that went through Kalen.

“Don’t remind me. Keys?”
“Right—oh, crap. My purse.”
During her getaway, it had gone flying. Kalen found it near one of the SUV’s back tires,

where it had no doubt fallen when she’d dived under headfirst. He handed it over and she
found the contents intact, including the keys, which she handed to him.

After retrieving his duster from the ground, he shrugged it on and opened the

passenger’s door, waiting for her to climb in before closing it. A normal thing for a man to
do, but it made her feel warm. Cared for. Just like him coming to her rescue, battling the
deadly creature. She shouldn’t read anything into it, though—any of the men of the Pack
would do the same for a friend and comrade.

Was Kalen a friend? At the very least, she hoped so.
He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the compound. The drive would

take almost half an hour, and she selfishly wished it was longer. She stared at his profile
in the darkness, drinking in the gorgeous man beside her.

“Jesus, I can’t believe nobody heard the noise and came out back, or just happened

along.”

“Well, the music is pretty loud in there,” she said thoughtfully. “Besides, the whole

thing lasted maybe five minutes, tops.”

“I guess you’re right. We got damned lucky, all around.”
They had, and the close call hit home, making her shiver.
A hand found her knee. “You want my coat, honey?”
The softly spoken question, the endearment tinged with no little concern, made her

heart do a funny flip. He’s just being nice. “No, I’m okay. I’ll feel better after a hot shower
and a couple of ibuprofen.”

He shot her a look rife with concern, and he didn’t need to voice what they were both

thinking—Melina Mallory, the other doctor at the compound, might want to throw in a
rabies shot and a whole kitchen sink full of other vaccinations as well.

“We both need these scratches looked at,” he said.
“How’s yours?” She couldn’t have seen the slice on his left arm from here, even if he

hadn’t been wearing his coat.

“Not too bad.”
He didn’t seem inclined to elaborate, so she dropped the subject. For now. The doctor

in her was much more worried about his wound than her own, and she would examine it,
whether he wanted her to or not.

Unwillingly, her mind turned back to the moment she’d seen the creature standing

there, death in its eyes. God, she’d been so terrified. And then Kalen had rushed right in,
taking on a monster many times his size, placing his life on the line.

For me.
That thought led to another one.
“How did you know that thing was around? Or did you just come there to see me and

—”

“Wait a second,” he interrupted. His back straightened and his hands tightened on the

steering wheel as he slowed the car a bit, looking around. Beyond the headlights there

wasn’t much to see. Just thick, impenetrable forest draped in a cloak of gloom.

And whatever waited beyond that had him spooked.
“What is it?” she blurted.
After a few moments, his mouth thinned into a grim line. “There’s something else

between us and the compound. Something bad.”

Oh, shit. “Is it another one of those creatures?”
“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But I think it’s looking for us. I’ve got to turn the car

around and find a place for us to hole up. See if you can reach Nick on your cell, tell him
what’s going on.”

On a side road, he pulled in and turned the car around, pointing it in the direction from

which they’d come, while she fished her smartphone from her purse. She woke up the
screen and found Nick in her list of contacts, punched his name, and hit Send.

Nothing happened. No ring.
She glanced at the screen again. “Damn. The call failed.”
“Try again.”
She did, three more times. “I can’t get a signal. Now what?”
“Try mine. It’s in my coat pocket on your side.”
Digging in the pocket at his hip, she retrieved the phone that Nick had assigned to

Kalen. She knew because they all carried the same type, and Kalen hadn’t had much to
his name when Nick had hired him. Certainly not a phone.

But it was of no use, either.
“Crap! What’s the plan?” she asked him.
“There’s a motel not far from the Grizzly. I’ll head there, get us a room. I can place

wards over our location that’ll conceal us from whatever this fucking thing is that’s
stalking us, until we can reach Nick or one of the others.”

“You can’t do that now, if I pull over and drive?”
He shook his head. “I can cloak the car, but then we’d still be a moving bubble of

nothingness on the radar, so to speak. A big tipoff to whatever is out there that we’re the
ones he’s after. A stationary hideout is best so I can blend us into the surroundings.”

“Oh. Makes sense.”
She just wanted to be off the road and out of sight. They were way too exposed out

here in the middle of nowhere, in the dark surrounded by forest. Kalen was a powerful
Sorcerer, but his hands were on the wheel, his attention split between the mysterious
danger and the road. Anything could ambush them, and it could be all over before the
vehicle came to a stop.

They rode in silence, past the bar, and her eyes strayed toward the building where

she’d been having such fun just a short time ago. Despite the trouble with Billy and his
buddies, she was happy to see Kalen. She’d let herself hope for . . . what? Getting to
know him better? Kissing him, for sure. More would’ve been fantastic.

And now they were running from danger, unable to reach their team.
“Did you tell Nick where you were going?”
“No, I borrowed the keys for the SUV from Jax. I told him I was going to the Grizzly to

meet you, but I didn’t say why. Dammit!” He was obviously kicking himself for that

oversight.

“That you had some sort of bad vibe?”
“Exactly.”
She hesitated for a few seconds then decided what the hell. Go for it. “Is that the only

reason you came?” she asked quietly, studying his reaction.

After a long moment he spoke, his voice low. “No. That’s not the only reason.”
Again, to her frustration, he didn’t elaborate. The man was one part sexy as hell, two

parts mystery, and damned if he intended to clear up the mystery part for her any time
soon.

But the Sorcerer won’t be able to hide from me. Not for long.
Mackenzie jumped, pulse leaping. She swiveled her head, scanning the inside of the

car, expecting to see a strange man, one who’d just spoken directly in her ear. Or was it
only in her head?

Kalen glanced at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought I heard . . . Nothing.”
“What?” His voice was sharp.
“I—I heard a voice in my head.” God, that sounded crazy.
“A voice? What kind?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “Could’ve been my imagination.”
“Going by the odds so far tonight? I’d guess it wasn’t. Was it a male voice?”
“Yes, but I didn’t recognize him,” she said thoughtfully.
“What did he say?”
“He said the Sorcerer—you—wouldn’t be able to hide from him for long.”
His eyes widened. “Why the hell would he talk to you and not directly to me? I—shit,

never mind,” he spat. “I know why.”

When no explanation seemed to be forthcoming, she waved a hand. “Care to enlighten

me?”

“Later.” At her scowl, he patted her leg. “I promise.”
“Fine.” She sighed, rolling her eyes. Squeezing information out of the CIA had to be

easier than getting it from Kalen.

A few minutes later, they pulled up at the Wallace Motel, which the locals

affectionately called the Wall-Banger. Reportedly for good reason, though she wouldn’t
know. She’d never had a desire or a good reason to stay at the aged motel, until now.

Kalen ran inside and got them a room, then returned to the car less than five minutes

later with two card keys in hand. “Room 121, on the end.”

They parked and hurried inside, eager to get out of sight. Kalen flipped on the light and

then closed the door firmly behind them and engaged the locks. Without wasting one
second, he moved to the center of the small room and closed his eyes, holding his arms
out from his sides. He chanted a few words, and then dropped his arms.

“It’s done. The wards are in place, so we should be safe until we can reach Nick or one

of the team.”

“Why don’t we just use this phone?” She gestured to the one on the night stand.
“We can’t risk using public phones to discuss our business,” he said. “The lines aren’t

secure.”

“Oh, right.” She felt like a fool. “I should’ve known that.”
“No big deal. You’re used to patching us up, not being involved in the action.” Stepping

close, he squeezed her hand. “Let’s go in the bathroom and see if we can’t get your cuts
cleaned out. Don’t want them to get infected.”

“Sure.” The word emerged as a croak. Lord he was standing so close, smelled so

freaking fantastic. She wanted to wallow in him, wrap him around her like a blanket.

Instead she settled for being nursed. Quite a change for a doctor, and she didn’t hate

the attention. He led her into the tiny bathroom, positioned her next to the sink, and
unwrapped a complimentary bar of soap. Next, he grabbed a plain white wash cloth and
turned the water on warm, wetting it.

“This place is shabby, but it’s clean,” he observed.
“Thank God. I’d hate to avoid being killed by whatever that beast was, only to be

brought down by some weird bacteria I caught at the Wall-Banger.”

For the first time, he laughed, and the timbre of the husky sound shot straight to her

toes. And other places, too. She stared at him, transfixed by how his full-fledged smile
transformed a tragically beautiful face into a stunning, drop-dead, cream her panties one.

“The Wall-Banger?” he repeated with another laugh.
She blinked, attempting to focus. “Um, yeah. That’s what the locals call this dump.

They rent rooms by the hour, thus the nickname.”

“That’s too funny. Here, let me see your hands.”
Pulse racing, she held them out, palms up. They were abraded from her baseball player

slide, the skin angry and raw.

“Not too much blood,” he observed. “Mostly a lot of dirt.”
Taking one wrist, he moved her hand under the water, letting the warm stream wash

away the loose grime. Then he lathered the soap with his own hands and gently began to
wash hers. She hissed at the sting and he murmured soothing words about how brave she
was, both before and now. Coddled her. Nobody had done that for her since her dad
when she was little.

But from Kalen, the action took on a whole different intimacy.
Whether he noticed how the tiny room seemed to close in she wasn’t certain. He

simply worked slowly and carefully, until her hands were clean and patted dry. They
didn’t look so bad now.

“The scratches will fade some by tomorrow, but . . .” He trailed off, frowning at the

small wounds. Before she could ask what was wrong, he whispered another of his
incantations.

To her amazement, the scratches faded until they were almost nothing. “Oh my God!

How—you’re a Healer?”

“No. I can do small patch-up jobs and take away some pain, but that’s all. My healing

talent is nowhere near Zander’s level, not even in the same ball park. And I can’t patch up
myself,” he said, gesturing to his own bruised face.

Zander Cole, one of the wolf shifters, was the team’s Healer, and a highly valuable one

at that. He was capable of healing extensive, life-threatening injuries—though at great

personal cost to himself.

“But they don’t hurt anymore,” she enthused, wiggling her fingers. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “Let’s see what we can do about the cut on your shoulder. Turn around

for me.” She did, and he sucked in a breath. “This is a bit uglier than your hands. I need
for you to take off your shirt. Is that okay?”

She nodded. He might be the new guy on the team, but she trusted him with her life.

Hell, he’d already saved her butt, so what did she have to lose? She grabbed the hem of
her red tank top, but when she tried to lift her arms, her left shoulder screamed in
protest.

“Ow!”
“Easy, honey,” he said, his palm rubbing her back in a comforting gesture. “Let me do

it.”

Working carefully, he lifted the shirt and eased it over her right arm first, and then over

her head. From there, it was simple enough to slide it off her left arm, where he let the
material drop to the tiled floor.

“That shirt’s a loss. So is the bra. The clasp is dangling by a thread back here, and the

whole thing’s in my way.”

Face flushing, she shrugged her good shoulder. “Then take it off.”
Doctors didn’t embarrass easily when it came to other people baring skin in order to be

examined or treated. It was quite another matter to be on the receiving end. She flinched
as he flicked the clasp and the pressure of the elastic vanished. The scrap joined her top
on the floor and she automatically covered her breasts.

She didn’t consider herself overly modest, but right now someone could’ve fried an egg

on her forehead. She stared at the wall, glad he was behind her where he couldn’t see
how flustered she was to be standing there topless in the same room with the man she’d
lusted after for weeks.

As before, he cleaned the wound as gently as possible. It hurt, though, much worse

than the scrapes on her hands. At one point she gave up trying to keep herself covered
and gripped the edge of the sink, tears of pain pricking her eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweet thing. Just a bit more, okay?”
Five more agonizing minutes, and he was finished. Tossing the cloth on the back of the

sink, he ordered her to remain still for another few seconds. A soft stream of Latin left his
lips and the slash on her back began to tingle. The sensation lasted briefly and was gone.

“There. It’s not perfect. Zan could’ve made it vanish altogether, but it’s better than

having it bleed all over.”

Turning around, she examined her left shoulder in the mirror. The creature’s claw had

raked an ugly furrow about a half-inch wide from the top of her shoulder, over the
shoulder blade, and a few inches below. A few more and it might’ve damaged the nerves
in her spine, possibly severed them.

As it was, Kalen had closed the cut enough to form a scab that made it appear the

wound had been healing for a week or so. “I’m impressed. And it feels a ton better, thank
you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How’s your arm?” she asked.
“It’s not as bad as I thought. I’ll clean the cut later.” His gaze dropped to her chest and

his eyes widened, body going tense. Lust etched itself on his face for a fleeting moment,
and then he gave her a sheepish smile. “Christ, where are my manners?”

Exhaling a deep breath, she watched him exit the bathroom. In the bedroom, he

removed his duster and laid it over the back of an old chair, and then pull off his black T-
shirt. Walking back to her, he held it out. “Wear this. It’s clean, except for a little bit of
blood where his claw tore my sleeve.”

She took the shirt, but damned if she could take her eyes off his toned chest, sprinkled

with just the right amount of curly black hair and the silver pentagram pendant resting
over his heart. Washboard abs, too. He’d filled out, gained some weight since he’d been
with the Pack. And those few pounds had been shaped into muscle, and gone to all the
right places.

Shit, those long legs, and that bulge between his thighs—
“Mackenzie?”
“Hmm? Oh! Thanks.”
Turning around, she pulled on his shirt and was immediately assailed by his wonderful,

spicy scent. Assuming they had to stay the night, how the hell was she supposed to sleep
wearing clothing of his that smelled so damned good? Parking her rear on the bed, she
watched as he dug out his cell phone and tried again to reach someone at the compound.
Nothing. She did the same, with identical results.

“Must be a service outage somewhere,” he muttered. “Looks like we’re stuck here for

the time being.”

Stuck wasn’t the word she would’ve chosen to describe being shut in with the sexy

Sorcerer all night.

“Unless you want to just leave and make a run for it,” she suggested. “Maybe whatever

it was is gone?”

“No, he’s still out there, waiting. I can feel him.”
“Then I guess we’re here for the duration. Want to watch TV?”
Alone with Kalen, and that was the last pastime on her list. But she wasn’t going to

make a fool of herself by making a play for him.

He’s a coworker, Mac! And it’s never smart to sleep with one. Remember that.

Strength, girlfriend. You can handle this.

Kalen flipped on the television and they settled on the bed, propped on pillows,

watching a standup comedian on a cable channel. The show was funny, but her eyelids
soon grew heavy. Too sleepy, worn out from their stressful ordeal, she let herself fall into
oblivion.

What a freakin’ waste of a delicious Sorcerer.

Jax wasn’t surprised when, at two in the morning, there was a knock on the door to the
quarters he and Kira shared. Nor was he surprised to find Nick standing on the threshold,
frowning in concern.

His commander got right to the point. “Did you loan Kalen your keys to one of the

Escalades?”

No point in lying when the man clearly knew the answer already. “I did. Isn’t he back

yet?”

“No, and neither is Mac. I can’t reach either one of them on their cell phones. In fact, I

can’t even contact Sheriff Deveraux. There seems to be an outage in the area—and not a
normal one.”

“Shit.” A chill snaked down his spine. “We initiating a search?”
“Yeah. I’m not getting any premonitions except a vague sense that something bad has

happened, and I don’t fucking like it.” The man sighed, raking a hand through short, dark
hair a lot like Jax’s own, except Nick’s was beginning to turn silver at the temples. “Let’s
take Zan and Ryon with us. Hammer will stay here and keep watch.”

“Good idea.” Four was a more comfortable number when facing unknown odds. Five

would’ve been better, and his gut churned at the thought. Aric should’ve been with them,
and it was his fault their friend had been taken captive. They’d find him. Jax had to
believe that or he’d go insane with the horrible guilt. “Let me throw on some jeans and I’ll
round up the others.”

“Meet me at the hanger.”
Then Nick was gone, leaving Jax to dress with warp speed. He stopped only long

enough to give his sleepy mate a kiss and tell her not to worry.

As if. Their newest Pack member was out there somewhere, with Mac. Something was

very wrong. Suddenly, Jax recalled the conversation he and Nick had about Kalen the very
night they’d taken in the Sorcerer.

“Is the kid going to be okay?” Jax asked.
“Definitely not if he leaves, but even if he stays . . . I don’t know. His storm is still a

good ways off, but it’s coming.”

“And when it arrives?” He was almost afraid to learn the answer, with good reason.
“Kalen will either find it in his soul to do the right thing, make the hard choice. Or he’ll

destroy us all.”

Whatever had happened tonight, Jax had a terrible feeling this was the beginning. The

rolling thunder before the storm.

And he had a suspicion that Nick knew it, too.
God help them all.

3

The trees were dead.

They weren’t supposed to be dead in the middle of the summer, but they were.

Stripped of their leaves, skeletal branches touched the gray sky. Nothing moved. No sign
of life anywhere, as though every living thing had perished along with their precious
shelter.

Fish floated in the poisoned streams, eyes staring blankly at heavens, accusing. Who

had let this happen? Why?

Studying the ground and the tree trunks, she saw that most everything was blackened,

as though it had been . . . burned?

“Come with me and we’ll rule together.”
Glancing around, she wondered who’d spoken. A flash of black caught her eye, darting

behind one of the barren trunks. A suit jacket?

“Who are you?” she called. “And rule what? This?” She spread out her arms to indicate

the wasteland.

“What you see is merely a preview of what will happen if I’m refused. I enjoy getting

my way.”

The amusement in his tone grated. “Would you really do this to the land, the wildlife?”
“Not me.”
“Then who?”
“You don’t know?” he asked, as though she was a small, confused child.
“Of course not,” she snapped. Inching forward, she crept up on the tree she’d seen him,

or something, hide behind. And jumped around it to find nothing there.

His laugh echoed through the branches. “Your Sorcerer, who else?”
“You’re a liar.” What an asshole. “Kalen would never do anything like this.”
“Know him well, do you?”
He had here there. “No,” she admitted reluctantly. “But in my heart, I know he

wouldn’t.”

“Ah, your heart,” he said softly, as though in great sympathy. “What do you know of

matters of the heart, lovely one? What do you know of the Sorcerer’s? He who has a soul
nearly as dark as my own, and requires only the correct guidance to realize his potential.”

Those words froze her to the bone. “What are you planning to do with Kalen?”
“Whatever I wish.” He chuckled. “That doesn’t answer your question, does it? Come

with me and all will be revealed.”

“And if I don’t?”
From nowhere a bolt of light streaked from the sky, slammed her in the chest. Heat

seared her heart, agony blasting through every cell in her body.

Writhing on the ground, she screamed. And screamed—
“Mackenzie!”
Screamed . . .
“God, Mackenzie! Wake up!”

A pair of hands were shaking her roughly. Mac jolted awake, heart pounding in terror.

Someone was lying half on top of her, holding her down. A man.

“Don’t hurt me anymore! Please!”
“Honey, it’s me, Kalen!”
That penetrated her fright, and she paused in confusion. “Kalen?”
“Yes,” he breathed, pulling her against his chest. “It’s me. I’m here, and you’re safe. It

was just a bad dream.”

“A dream? No! He was there and he was such a bastard, killing all the trees and

animals, and blaming it on you! And he wanted me to join him and when I wouldn’t—”

“Sweetheart, slow down,” he soothed, stroking her hair. “You’re not making any sense.

Take a few deep breaths, there’s my girl.”

She did, and gradually her panic calmed. “It seemed so real.”
“Nightmares usually do, but they’re mostly harmless.”
“But not always.” She didn’t like that qualifier. One bit.
“I won’t lie. I’ve seen a ton of weird and dangerous shit. And yeah, there are beings

that can actually invade your dreams, attempt to do any number of things.”

She liked his strong arms around her. She burrowed into his chest, and the sense of his

protection gave her the courage to continue. “I’m pretty sure this guy was real. He
wanted me and you to join him. He wants to control you.”

“We don’t know that for sure,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “It could’ve been a

really vivid night terror brought on by what we went through earlier.”

“Don’t you dare patronize me,” she warned.
“I’d never do that. I’m trying to look on the bright side, that’s all. Tell me about the

dream from start to finish, if you’re feeling up to it.”

Relaxing some, she nodded. Taking a deep breath, she recounted the brief, scary

encounter with the man she never saw. When she finished, Kalen was holding her tightly,
his heart pounding fast in her ear. Despite his outward calm, his rapid pulse, the
increased pace of his breathing, evidenced his fear. Her question was quiet.

“You think this is something to be worried about, don’t you?”
“I think it’s possible.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Right now? Wait here until we can reach the Pack on the phone, or they find us. Then

we tell Nick every detail about tonight, including your nightmare.”

“Okay.”
They fell silent for a time, Kalen still holding her. Stroking her hair. Placing kisses on

top of her head. “This is nice,” he murmured.

“Yes, it is.”
He paused, and she sensed he had more to say.
“This is good, isn’t it? Me, holding you?”
He sounded so uncertain, and yet hopeful, her heart swelled. “It definitely is,” she said,

hugging him. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“This is new to me. Holding someone, being held.” His voice held a note of wonder.
“Then you’ve missed out on a lot.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” he said softly.
A subtle shift was happening between them. Then, gradually . . . comfort became

something more. They didn’t have to be alone and afraid. They’d begun to bond tonight
over a shared terror, and now that connection solidified as he held her against his heart.
Tilted her face up to his.

And placed the sweetest of kisses on her lips. He started slowly, one nibble at a time.

Paused in between, giving her the chance to put out the flame that had been kindled
between them. But she wanted him every bit as much, wasn’t about to say no.

Sitting up, he pulled her into his lap. They were both still dressed in their jeans, but

situated like this, she had no trouble discerning the erection pressing against her bottom.
She wiggled against the hardness, wanting more.

“You’re trying to kill me.”
“Far from it.” Sitting up, she pulled his shirt over her head, baring herself to his gaze.

From the sliver of light filtering through the part in the curtains, she could see his green
eyes glittering with desire. With need. But also with uncertainty.

“I’ve never done this before.”
“Had sex?” She found that difficult to believe.
“Made love,” he whispered. “With someone I care about.”
Sweet man. “It’s fantastic. Like nothing else you’ll ever feel.”
“Tell me what you want.” Reaching out, he caressed her cheek. “I have to hear it.”
“Make love to me. Give me everything.”
Capturing her lips again, he lowered her to the bed. Kissed her thoroughly for several

long moments. He had the best mouth and he knew how to use it—as he proved by
nibbling his way down her throat, teeth scraping. Long ones.

“Are you using your panther teeth?”
“Mmm.”
She gasped as one canine grazed a tender nipple. I’ll take that as a yes.
His mouth latched onto the nub, suckling, and she moaned, burying her fingers in his

long hair as she’d itched to do for weeks. The black mass was as silky as it looked, thick
and just right to get a good grip. She enjoyed the feel of it as much as she loved him
lavishing attention on her nipples.

He moved south, kissing her belly. When he moved lower, she had to relinquish her

hold on his mane, and whimpered in protest.

“You don’t want this?” he teased, setting between her thighs. “You said to give you

everything.”

“And I meant it. I just love my hands in your hair.”
He looked pleased. “Well, you can have it back in a few minutes. Promise.”
Unzipping her jeans, he worked them down and off, along with her panties. Pushing her

knees apart, he lowered his head. Flicked out his tongue and lapped at her clit. With a
sigh of pleasure, she spread for him as wide as possible. It had been much too long, and
she wanted Kalen to have her. Like this, or any way he desired.

His mouth was every bit as talented in this area, too. He licked her folds, delved his

tongue in between to fuck her channel slowly. Driving her mad. Then he’d withdraw and

suckle the little clit, taking her to the edge. And withdraw again. Lick and suckle. Over
and over until she was mindless, writhing.

“Oh, God!”
“What do you want, honey?”
“Fuck me,” she begged. “I need you.”
He didn’t require further encouragement, and shed his jeans quickly. Crawling over her,

he settled between her legs, placed the head of his cock to her opening. Pushed inside.

There, in the darkness, they came together.
Rocking his hips, he began to move inside her. Deep, to the hilt, and out again. Slow

and easy, stoking the fire once again, searing her to the depths of her soul. She buried
her fingers in his hair again, watched his face as he made love to her. The pupils of his
eyes had gone elliptical and smoldered with passion. The muscles of his shoulders
bunched and his fangs protruded as he panted with each thrust, the disc of his pendant
hanging from his neck, resting between her breasts.

“Harder,” she urged. “Faster.”
Increasing the tempo, he did as she asked, moaning. Driving them higher. She knew he

was close when he gathered her to his chest, hips pumping furiously. She clung to his
back, her own release building until—

She shattered with a cry, pulsing around his length. Her release triggered his and he

came with a hoarse shout, sinking himself as deeply as possible. He stayed there,
convulsing, holding her close, until at last they were spent. Then a bit longer as they
came down from the high, kissing the curve of her neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered.
“No, thank you.” She hugged him. “You were wonderful.”
Carefully he pulled out. Rolling to his back he gathered her to him and she laid her

head on his shoulder, content. Suddenly something occurred to her.

“We never cleaned your cut,” she said, feeling guilty.
“I did, after you went to sleep. It’s nothing, just a scratch.”
She thought it was more, especially in light of her nightmare, but didn’t want to spoil

the moment by bringing it up again. “If you insist.”

“I do.”
“Fine. You’re just as bad as those macho wolves I’ve worked with for the past few

years.”

“Are you saying I’m stubborn?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Speaking of wolves . . .” She hesitated. “Would you do something for me?”
“I’ll try.”
“Would you show me your panther?”
“That’s right, you’ve never seen him,” he said, as though just realizing it. “You really

want to?”

The amazement in his tone puzzled her. Why wouldn’t she be interested?
“Of course I do. He’s a part of you.”

The naked joy in his expression as he smiled was almost her undoing. Had nobody ever

said such a thing to this wonderful man?

“Okay,” he said, sitting up. “Here goes.”
“Wait—you aren’t going to eat me, are you?”
“Honey, only my human half would do that,” he teased, heated gaze raking her body.

“And we already know how much you love it.”

Before she could form a retort, his form wavered. Began to reshape. Pale skin became

sleek, black fur. His face reformed into a squared muzzle full of sharp teeth, his ears
pointed. Black fingernails became claws. A long tail twitched where none had been
before, and emerald eyes studied her intently.

Kalen was now a big, gorgeous black panther.
“You’re beautiful,” she said in awe, stroking his head.
He butted under her hand, his demand clear, and she laughed. She scratched his ears

and he started purring loudly, flopping onto his side. Eventually he rolled to his back,
presenting her with his belly, which got a good scratching as well.

“Don’t think I’m going to spoil you like this all the time,” she said with mock sternness.

“You’ll get lazy.”

Without warning, he morphed into a human man once more and lay there studying her,

lips forming a smile. But the sadness had returned to his eyes, making his expression
appear wistful.

“No one has ever done that before,” he said quietly.
“Done what?”
“Asked me to change into my panther. Embraced him. Accepted me.” He looked away.

“Nobody has ever cared. My parents thought I was a freak when I was a kid and they
learned I could do magic, but when they found out I’d learned to use my power to shift
into a panther? They threw me out on my ass. I was fourteen.”

Her heart clenched, aching for the lonely, hurt boy who’d grown into a lonely man. “I

care. And you’re not a freak.”

“You’re a special woman, Mackenzie. Most people aren’t accepting, don’t have a good

soul like you.”

The nightmare intruded again, the horrible stranger’s accusation, and she found herself

asking, “What about your soul? I believe it’s good and kind.”

He fell silent for so long, she thought he didn’t want to talk anymore. Then his voice

drifted in the darkness.

“I’ll tell you a secret.” He paused. “I don’t like to be touched. Or I didn’t before

tonight.”

She stilled. “Before me?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?” Please, dear Lord, don’t let it be what I’m thinking.
“I don’t have a good soul, honey. I sold myself to survive, to anyone who wanted me,”

he whispered. “I had no job skills, wasn’t legal to work even if I had any, and I had to
eat. So I did the only thing I knew how, and I did it well.”

So it was what she’d been thinking. No, worse. The self-loathing in his voice scared her

more than anything. Because a powerful enemy, like the man in her nightmare, could
take that hatred and twist Kalen into his own image. Into a man who would do evil
things.

She gripped his hand. “You were just a kid. You were tossed from your home as a

minor, a crime in any state. You got caught in the same trap as any number of homeless
teens, and didn’t know where to turn. Who to trust. Your parents should’ve been thrown
in jail. Give yourself a break.”

“Really? Well, this Boy Scout fucked you without a condom,” he said harshly. “Still think

I’m good?”

Shit. The baldly stated fact hit her hard, scared her a little, but she squared her

shoulders. “I’m a doctor and I let you. That doesn’t exactly make me a Girl Scout.”

“What if I’m not clean?”
“You are. I refuse to believe the man who made such sweet love to me would

knowingly endanger my health. Besides, from our studies at the Institute, we’ve learned
that shifters can’t pass or catch human diseases, and the males can’t impregnate those
who aren’t their Bondmates.”

“You’re gorgeous when you’re fierce.” Reaching out, he toyed with a curly lock of her

hair.

“I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” He sighed, dropping his hand. “Mackenzie, you might know about the

physiology of the wolves, but you know nothing about me.”

“What do you mean?”
“Honey, I’m not like the others in the Pack,” he explained patiently. “I wasn’t turned

like they were. I’m a Sorcerer first, and I learned to use that power to shift into my
panther. I’m totally different from them.”

She stared at him in comprehension. “You’re right,” she breathed. “I should’ve realized

that.”

“For what it’s worth, though, I am clean. I get tested every six months.”
“And I’m on the pill.”
That one seemed to startle him for a moment, but he recovered and nodded. “That’s

good.”

“Now what?”
He stared at her, regret etched on his face. Oh, no. Here it comes.
He did his best to let her down easy. “Mackenzie, I’ve been alone forever, it seems. I

don’t know what a relationship is, at least not a healthy one. I’m bankrupt here,” he said,
placing a fist over his heart. “I’ve got nothing to offer anyone. Not right now. Maybe not
ever.”

It hurt. More than it should, considering the short time she’d known him. In fact, the

very real agony of his rejection took her totally by surprise. This was why coworkers
should never sleep together. How in the hell was she supposed to face him after this, on
a daily basis?

“I think you’re wrong.”
“Maybe. But I don’t know where this can go, this attraction between us.”

“You didn’t have problem figuring that out a few minutes ago,” she snapped. His

expression shut down and she immediately regretted her words. She’d carelessly struck at
the part of himself that he loathed the most, and she couldn’t take it back.

He nodded. “I deserved that. Let’s just leave it be for a while.”
Like for the next century or so, she heard in his voice.
“All right.”
No one has ever done that before. Asked me to change into my panther. Embraced

him. Accepted me.

And she’d ruined everything by pushing him too hard, too fast. This lonely man who

didn’t have a clue how to love, or accept love in return.

Miserable, she curled on her side, facing away from him. This time, he didn’t hold her in

his arms, comfort her like before. And her pride wouldn’t allow her to beg.

When the cold light of dawn broke through the curtains, Mackenzie hadn’t slept at all.

A banging noise had Kalen bolting upright in bed, scanning for the source. He didn’t have
long to wonder who was on the other side.

“Kalen? Mac?” Nick called. “Open up!”
“Jesus,” he muttered. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he yelled back. “Just a

minute!”

Mackenzie was already up, and came out of the bathroom dressed in her jeans and his

T-shirt. They carefully avoided eye contact as Kalen pulled on his jeans, boots, and his
duster. Christ, how had things fallen apart so fast? They’d made beautiful love, the likes
of which Kalen had never hoped to experience in his lifetime. Normally, he hated physical
contact—especially sex—but with Mackenzie, holding her close, being inside her . . .

God, it had been heaven. So different from having sex just to survive. And yeah, he’d

been scared afterward, but what guy wouldn’t be who’d walked in his shoes?

He was a complete novice when it came to relationships and he was only trying to be

honest, not give her the total brush-off. But obviously she hadn’t taken his words at face
value—that he needed time.

And she’d given up without a fight, or even a single word of protest.
So maybe it was better this way. He didn’t deserve someone as fine as Mackenzie

anyhow.

Stalking to the door, he yanked it open to find Nick, Jax, Zan, and Ryon on the other

side. The first two were scowling and the other two just looked tired.

“Tell me what the fuck happened,” Nick growled. “We’ve been looking for you two all

goddamned night long.”

Jax leaned against the doorjamb. “We about had heart failure when we tracked the

SUV to the Grizzly, only to find the tire slashed and the back panel clawed to hell, drops
of blood on the ground, and Mac’s car nowhere to be found.”

“We were attacked,” Kalen said, exhaustion hitting him hard. “Coming out of the

Grizzly, by one of those things like you had in Block T before it died. I killed it, and
disposed of the body. We tried to call on our way back, but the cell phone service was
out.”

“It was out on our end too, but that doesn’t explain why you didn’t just come home,”

Nick said, still pissy. Now he glanced between Kalen and Mackenzie, as the obvious
suspicion dawned on his face.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Kalen defended. “We were heading back when I sensed

that there was another one, or something equally as bad, between us and the compound.
Like it was waiting for us. So we turned around and headed for the motel, and I placed
wards around the room so it couldn’t locate us.”

Nick studied him and Mackenzie for a long moment. Then he turned to his three men.

“I need for you guys to wait in the SUV while I talk to these two alone.”

The boss knew there was more to say. Stuff Kalen didn’t want the rest of the team to

know, yet. Nick waited until he’d moved inside and closed the door before speaking.

“Now tell me the rest.”
“Someone is communicating with Mackenzie telepathically,” Kalen said. “We don’t

know who or what he is—hell, he might not even be human. But he spoke to Mackenzie
for the first time in the car, after she was scratched by that creature. He said I wouldn’t
be able to hide from him for long. Then she had a nightmare about him last night in
which he urged her to join him.”

“Doing what?”
“We don’t know. But he said I would join him too, or else. That’s the gist of it, that he

wants her and me. In the dream, when she resisted, he attacked her.”

“I have a feeling it’s you he wants,” Nick said. He swiped a hand down his face. “He’s

striking at you through her. Fuck.”

Mackenzie sucked in a sharp breath. “No.”
“That’s what it seems like.”
Nick sighed. “Let’s head back. There isn’t anything we can do here, and I’ll feel better

when we’re all back at the compound. It’s much safer there.”

“Okay. Can I have a minute with her?”
That look returned. The one that communicated he knew what the minute was

probably about. But he nodded. “I’ll be in the SUV with the others.”

“Thanks.” Once Nick was gone, Kalen steeled himself, facing Mackenzie squarely. “I

have something extremely important to give to you, and I need for you to wear it.”

She frowned. “What is it?”
“This.” Reaching for the clasp of the silver chain holding his Sorcerer’s pentagram

pendant, Kalen did the one thing he’d been warned never, ever to do.

He gave his protection to the woman who’d stolen his heart.
Moving behind her, he placed the pendant over hers, where it belonged, now and

always. Then he fastened the chain and turned her to face him again.

“Your pendant? Kalen, I can’t—”
“You can, and you will,” he said softly. “This was a gift to me from my grandmother. A

really special one. She—”

“Then I really can’t accept this!”
“Listen to me,” he said firmly. “I can’t always be nearby, and this pendant will protect

you.”

She paused, still obviously not convinced she should take it. “How?”
“To make a long story short, it’s ancient, and blessed. It will protect you from any evil

in existence, trust me.”

“But what about you?” she asked quietly.
“I’ll be fine. The important thing to remember is to never, never take this off. Not to

shower, or to work out. Not to party with Amy and Shannon. Not for any reason, ever.”

“What—”
“Promise me. Please.” He took a deep breath. “Do this for me.”
She stared at him for a minute before nodding. “All right. If it’s that important to you, I

won’t take it off. You have my word.”

Relief nearly buckled his knees. Mackenzie would be safe now. For the first time in his

adult life, he cared about another person more than he cared about his own survival, and
it felt good. Right. He couldn’t save the world, especially from himself.

But he could save her.
He could ask for nothing more.
Stepping close, he gave her one last kiss. Cupped her face, and gazed into her blue

eyes for a long moment.

“Kalen? Can’t we—”
“Don’t, honey. I can’t be what you want, or need.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
The laugh that escaped his throat was bitter. “I’m not. The sooner you realize that,

you’ll be much better off.”

“Maybe someday you’ll believe in yourself as much I believe in you.”
To make her point, she reached out, buried both hands in his hair as she loved to do.

The wonderful sensation reminded him of how she’d done that as he made love to her
while he held her tight. How damned good it had felt, how right.

How the earth had fucking moved as he came inside her.
Now she took control, brought their mouths together, and it was every bit as fantastic

as before. Their lips meshing, tongues dueling, tasting. He pulled her against his body,
needing to draw her under his skin. Keep her there forever.

But he couldn’t. Regretfully, he broke the kiss and pulled back. “I’m sorry,” he rasped.

“I can’t do this.”

“That kiss says you can. Someday.”
Eventually he had to look away from the hope he saw flickering there.
From his own futile wish that he’d someday be a man worthy of her.
Opening the door, he led her out to the waiting Escalade, ushered her inside, and

tossed her car keys to Ryon.

When the SUV pulled away, he didn’t look back at the place where he’d lost his heart

and soul.

It just hurt too fucking much.

Tired to the bone, and disheartened, Kalen took a long, hot shower. It erased her scent
from his skin, but not the memory of making love to the most beautiful woman in the

world.

The woman he’d let go.
Would it always feel as though he’d ripped off a limb? Like he was bleeding out all over

the floor to become nothing more than a shell? How could she have so completely
burrowed under his skin, into his heart?

Stepping from the shower, he toweled off and stared at himself in the mirror. It was

odd to see a bare spot where the pentagram had rested for as long as he could
remember. His grandmother had given it to him shortly after he’d come into his power as
a Sorcerer, and had coached him. She’d been his biggest advocate, his cheerleader.

And then she’d been gone much too soon, leaving him alone in a world where nobody

understood him, or gave a damn about him. He’d done so many things he was ashamed
of, things his new brothers would find abhorrent if they knew.

That’s why they could never know he’d been a filthy whore. And so much worse.
Before Alpha Pack.
Before Mackenzie.
He cared about them, couldn’t lose them. No matter what he had to do. As if cued by

his churning thoughts, a male voice slipped into his head.

“I knew you’d give your precious pendant to the doctor, to protect her from me.” A low,

amused laugh sounded in his head. “How far would you go, my pet, to make certain your
lover remains safe?”

“As far as I need to,” he rasped, fists clenched. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear, boy. You please me already.”
Insidious. Seductive. He’d heard those words before, on so many lips. He’d never

responded then as he did now—with a rush of dark pleasure. Like a designer drug
injected directly into his vein. One he knew would eventually kill him.

But not before he rode the ecstasy to the end of the line.
Shaking himself from the fog of desire, Kalen walked from the bathroom into his

bedroom and got dressed. Put on his armor and prepared to face the day, and his
demons, without his pendant to shield him from the evil already working its way into his
soul.

Outside, thunder rolled. A storm on the way.
When his storm arrived, he prayed he’d be ready. And that he’d have the courage to do

what he must.

“Mackenzie,” he said into the stillness of his room. “I’m so sorry.”
Walking out, he told himself he wouldn’t think of what might’ve been. If only he hadn’t

taken off the pendant, that one other time before.

If only Kalen Black wasn’t already far past redemption.

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Read on for an exciting preview of

SAVAGE AWAKENING

an Alpha Pack novel

by J.D. Tyler.

Available from Signet Eclipse in April 2012.

1

Aric Savage gripped the chains as the silver-barbed lash tore into his back with unmerciful
precision. Fire licked over the flayed skin, soaking deep to burn his guts, steal his breath.

Still, he found the strength to snarl his rage between strokes, his wolf clawing

desperately to be free. To rip Orson Chappell’s minions to shreds, starting with the
bastard currently wielding the whip, and then moving on to Beryl, his malicious bitch of a
stepsister. The pair of them were an open sore on the world’s ass. He’d take great
pleasure in tearing out their throats, but not before making them scream as they’d done
to him. And then he’d track down the big boss himself. Drag him from under the rock
where he was hiding, and butcher him, too.

Slowly. Painfully, so that the fucker squealed like a piglet as Aric’s wolf devoured him

alive.

Here, Piggy, Piggy, let me in!
Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin!
No problem, asshole. I’ll just incinerate your door, come right in and watch you piss

your pants as I unleash my beast—

Another blow fell, shattering the inner dialogue as liquid agony scored him from

shoulder to hip.

“Ahhh! Fuck . . . fuck this . . . b-bastards . . .”
With every stroke, it became harder to retain his hold on sanity. Beryl’s efforts were

beginning to pay off. After weeks of this hellish trip into Psycholand, the unbelievable
pain, he was close to the breaking point.

He never dreamed there were so many methods of brutal torture. Or that he’d be

forced to sample every fuckin’ one of them.

He wasn’t aware the whipping had stopped until a hand cupped his chin and thrust his

head up. Beryl’s flat, soulless eyes bored into his, searching for weakness, for the
knowledge that brother dearest was finally a broken husk. A gibbering pile of shit.

“Sorry to disappoint, bitch,” he whispered, his throat raw and aching. “I’m still in here.”

His mind might not be gone just yet, but screaming had stripped his voice during a
session with Beryl’s handy silver knife. If he should get out of here, he might never
recover, in more ways than one.

“Good. I’d be terribly put out if you gave up too quickly.” One corner of her mouth

curved up. “As it is, you amuse me. So tenacious, my fierce brother.”

Her touch made his skin crawl, but he didn’t have the strength to jerk his chin out of

her grasp. Even if she did set him free, he had nothing left. Despite his longing for
vengeance, he didn’t have the strength to let loose his raging wolf, let alone summon his
gifts of fire or telekinesis. Pathetic.

“I’m surprised Chappell lets you play with his test subjects,” he taunted.
A flash of something that might’ve been unease interrupted the deadness in her eyes,

then was gone. “That isn’t your concern.”

He huffed a laugh that was more like a strangled rasp. “He doesn’t know.” This kept

getting better.

“What?” There. Again the flicker of alarm.
Despite the pain assailing his battered body, he sneered. “Chappell doesn’t know what

you’re doing to me down here, screwing with one of his lab rats. Wonder what he’d do to
his pet witch if he found out?”

Flicking a lock of long, auburn hair over her shoulder that was a shade darker than his

own, she affected a look of complete disinterest. “He has more important concerns than
one shifter.”

“I’ll just bet.”
“Whether you’re here or in the lab doesn’t make a difference to you anyway.” Giving his

face a hard squeeze, she shoved, snapping his head to the side. “You’ll be just as dead
when I’m done with you.”

He didn’t bother to answer. He knew his chances of escaping from either place dimmed

with each day. Spinning on her heel, she turned and left, the gloom beyond his small
patch of light swallowing her form and the click of her boots until he was once again
alone with his grim thoughts.

How was Beryl involved in all of this? And why the special torture reserved for the older

stepbrother she’d barely bothered to know, and vice versa? Why the all-consuming
hatred?

True, she’d always been a self-absorbed bitch. From the day Aric’s mother had

remarried and his stepdaddy had brought that strange, sullen teenaged nightmare home
to play house, Aric had done his best to steer clear of her. Not always successfully, either.
Joining the Navy SEALs, getting out of that pressure cooker of a house, had been a
blessing.

Right up until his unit had been attacked by rogue wolf shifters in the mountains of

Afghanistan and his world had been completely fucked. Forever.

If he was honest, he would have to admit that he hadn’t been happy since he’d lost his

humanity. He loved his brothers on the Alpha Pack team, but when that last op had gone
south, they’d given him up fast enough, hadn’t they? Jax gave me up. To save his mate.
When the chips were down, Aric was alone. As always. No one had come for him, and no
one would. His throat tightened with emotion, burned with the tears he would never
allow to fall. Maybe he was better off dead.

But he couldn’t bring himself to give up. No, he wanted to live long enough to slaughter

every single person responsible for his being in this hellhole, suffering this endless
goddamned agony.

General George Patton had it right. He was going to strut through the valley of the

shadow of death—and he’d be the meanest motherfucker there. Make them all pay.

Then, and only then, would he willingly let the Reaper take him.

Rowan Chase jerked the wheel in a hard left, brought the car skidding to a stop in the
filthy, garbage-strewn alley between two run-down buildings, killed the ignition, and was
out before her rookie partner, Daniel Albright, even got his seat belt unbuckled.

One glance at the situation told her things had already gone FUBAR—fucked up beyond

all recognition.

A crowd of about twenty Hispanic men of varying ages surrounded two guys rolling on

the ground, the edgy group shouting obscenities, egging the fight on. Quickly, her brain
assessed the struggling pair, taking in the information, rapid-fire. One stocky male, six
feet, about two hundred twenty pounds. The smaller one younger, slender, five-seven,
about one-sixty. She recognized him as Emilio Herrera. Both wore the East Side Lobos’
colors. Family fight. Over what? Drugs, a girl, or some imagined slur? Who knew?

Sunlight glinted off a sliver of metal between the combatants, and blood blossomed on

the smaller guy’s shirt. Knife. Shit. Rowan unclipped her holster as she jogged toward
them, adrenaline rushing through her veins.

“LAPD!” she shouted, her pistol clearing leather. “Break it the fuck up!”
“Get back! Give us some room!” Danny bellowed.
Danny was green but he was a good officer. She trusted him to control the agitated

crowd while she dealt with the fight, and trust was imperative. A second unit was on the
way, but that didn’t mean it would arrive in time to prevent disaster.

The pair were oblivious at first, the younger man completely focused on defending

himself against his assailant. The stocky man was clearly the aggressor, his rage
palpable. He was the one she needed to reach.

“I said break it up! Now!”
Switchblade in his meaty fist, straddling the younger man, the stocky one turned his

head to glance at her, a snarl on his face. She sucked in a breath, recognizing him. Luis
Garcia. She should’ve known. He was a dangerous bastard with a long rap sheet full of
violence. Worse, he was unpredictable, his mind fried from a lifetime of drug abuse.

“Little puta stole my shit,” he slurred, spittle flying.
“I didn’t!” Emilio cried, holding up his hands. “I don’t do the powder, you know that! La

familia knows that!”

“You took it and I’m gonna gut you like a—”
“No, you’re not,” Rowan ordered, using her most authoritative voice. She held her pistol

at her side, pointed at the asphalt. “Put the blade down and come talk to me. We’ll sort it
out.”

“Shut up, lesbiana. You think you have bigger cojones than Luis, si? Perhaps you do.”

He gave a nasty laugh.

Rowan let the insult roll off. She’d been called worse. “Emilio is telling the truth, Garcia.

I know him and I swear to you he wouldn’t take your blow.” Now, your car? He’d steal
that in a heartbeat, but not your coke. “I wouldn’t lie to my own people. Put the knife
down.”

To her right, the Lobos’ leader pushed through the crowd, apparently late on the scene.

Salazar Romero was tall, muscular, and menacing, with long black hair and a soul patch,
arms covered with tats. “Don’t be stupid. Listen to mamacita, Luis. She’s street. One of
us, you feel me? Her word is good enough for me, so it’s good enough for the Lobos.”

Finally, a break in the ice. The bigger man visibly wavered, his grip on his quarry

loosening. He tried to stare Salazar down, but looked away first, like the dog he was. But
that didn’t mean the danger was over. Rowan’s stance remained tense as Garcia let the

knife fall from his hand, let go of Emilio’s shirt.

“Climb off him and stand,” she directed. “Slowly.”
Garcia let go a string of muttered curses, but did as he was told. On his feet, he

stepped away from the bleeding man, and turned toward her, shaking his head. Still
cursing. Gesturing and swinging his arms as he became more agitated. She didn’t like his
body language. The man was going to lose it again.

“Kneel, hands behind your head.”
His head snapped up. “You said we was gonna talk!”
“First, kneel, hands be—”
“Fuck you, bitch!”
Rowan knew what Garcia was going to do, even as he dropped his right arm, reached

behind him to grab something at the small of his back. She reacted a split-second faster,
brought up her weapon and leveled it at his chest, shouting, “Drop it!”

But he brought the gun around, swung the muzzle toward her, his intent clear. She was

hardly aware of her finger pressing the trigger, and the deafening explosion was over
before her brain registered the noise.

Garcia jerked backward, eyes widening in surprise. A bloom of scarlet began to spread

across his chest as his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground. Weapon still trained
on his fallen form, she walked over and kicked the man’s gun from his outstretched hand.
Wary, she crouched next to his head and placed two fingers on his neck.

“Dead?” Danny asked.
“Yeah.” She heaved a shaky breath and stood, surveying the few people that were left.
Most of them had gotten the hell out of there when Garcia drew down and his act of

stupidity proved fatal. Emilio was still sitting a few feet away, a hand pressed to his
bloodied side, grimacing in pain. Salazar and a couple of his lieutenants were with him,
praising the kid for facing down crazy Garcia, as though the kid had taken him out
himself. The little car thief’s street cred had just risen substantially, along with plenty of
temptation for a rival gang to add him to their hit list.

And the cycle never ended.
Rowan holstered her weapon, feeling sick. Oh, God. I killed one of my own. Right here

on my home turf, among the people I’m supposed to keep safe. Could I have handled this
differently? How?

“Chase!”
Startled, she blinked at Danny, who was right in her face, hand on her shoulder.

“What?”

“Whatever shit is going through your head right now, stop,” he said in a low voice.

“You gave him every chance to give up. Hell, you almost waited a hair too long to draw
down and pull the trigger. It was a righteous shooting. No one is going to dispute that.”

“The baby cop is right, mamacita,” Salazar said in a loud voice. “Luis was broken, man.

He acted on his own to jump Emilio, and the Lobos wash their hands of him. There will be
no retribution.”

Broken, meaning Salazar had recently demoted him. She supposed she should feel

relieved that Luis had already become a problem they wanted erased, or her East-Side

upbringing might not mean squat. Suddenly aware of several sets of eyes boring into her,
studying her reaction, she clamped her mouth firmly shut and gave a curt nod.

Salazar waved a hand at his remaining followers. “Vamanos!”
No retribution. Staring at their retreating backs, she couldn’t work up the gratitude.

Eleven years on the force and she’d drawn her weapon less than a dozen times. Never
fired it outside the shooting range, before today.

And today, she’d killed a man. No matter his failings, Luis Garcia had a wife and six

kids who’d depended on him. Her breakfast threatened to make a reappearance, but she
managed to keep it down.

“Chase?”
Rowan turned, blinking at Captain Connolly. She couldn’t seem to shake the fog that

had wrapped itself around her brain. “Sir.”

“What happened here?” he asked, matter-of-factly. His weathered face was calm, his

blue eyes patient.

Quickly, she gave their supervisor the rundown, in detail. Danny backed her up, and

the captain nodded.

“All right. Looks like a clean shooting, but you know what happens next,” he said

kindly.

She did. Although she’d never had to fire her weapon, much less kill a suspect, other

officers had over the years. They all knew the drill. She exhaled a deep breath. “I guess
I’m on leave.”

“I’m afraid so.” Connolly squeezed her shoulder. “At least until the investigation is over.

It’ll probably be just a formality in this case, but it still sucks. We’ve got things covered
here. Head on back to the station, take care of your paperwork. Make sure all your i’s are
dotted and the t’s crossed. Then surrender your weapon and go home. I’ll call you.”

“What about Albright?” She gestured to her partner.
“I’ll temporarily reassign him pending the closing of the investigation.”
“Yes, sir.” Damn, she hated losing a good rookie to another officer. Even if Internal

Affairs closed the matter quickly, she’d have to fight to get him back.

“Take it easy,” Danny said, trying to be reassuring. “Everything will be fine.”
“Sure. Take care, and I’ll see you.”
She walked away, aware of eyes at her back, measuring. Wondering whether she’d be

the department’s new head case, waiting to see if this would be what finally sent her
careening over the edge. First, the loss of her younger brother, and now this.

Climbing into the patrol car, she forced herself to start the ignition and calmly drive

away when all she wanted to do was sit there and fall apart. Later, she promised herself.
She’d pick up a six-pack of beer on the way home and let go where no one could see.

For now, compartmentalize was the word of the day and the only way to get through it.
Three hours later, Rowan finished the last of her mountain of paperwork, surrendered

her pistol, and headed out the door, thankfully unnoticed except for a couple of buddies
who’d heard the news and stopped her to deliver brief pep talks. She felt decidedly naked
without the comforting, familiar weight of a weapon at her side and just wanted to get
the hell out of here before more of her comrades noticed and wanted to get the lowdown

firsthand.

She hurried to her truck and fired it up just as her cell phone vibrated on her hip. With

a sigh, she left the vehicle in park, retrieved the device, and checked the caller ID. This
one, she had to take. “Hello.”

“Hey, it’s me.”
In spite of herself, she smiled. “Hi, me. What’s cookin’?” Her friend, FBI special agent

Dean Campbell, never spoke either of their names on the phone. Paranoia was more than
in his job description—it was embedded in his DNA.

“Plenty. I’ve got those Dodgers tickets you wanted,” he said cheerfully. “Meet me for a

burger, usual place?”

Her smile vanished and the blood drained from her face. Her mouth opened a couple of

times before she could find her voice. “I’ll be there in half an hour. I need to go home and
change first.”

“On my way. I’ll get us a table.”
Punching the OFF button, she tossed the phone in the seat next to her and peeled out.

Oh, God. Finally, after months of a fruitless, agonizing search for answers and a maze of
dead ends, the call she’d been praying for had come. And for a while longer, she had to
bleed just a little more inside, not knowing whether this was the end or the beginning.

Not knowing if Micah really was dead, as the government claimed, or if he was alive

somewhere, waiting to be rescued.

And if her brother was alive, what the fuck was going on?
The questions and possible answers whirled in her brain all the way to her apartment,

and didn’t let up as she hurriedly stripped out of her uniform and changed into jean
shorts, a tank top, and tennis shoes. She couldn’t stand another second of this torture
now that the end was in sight. The drive to Willy’s had never seemed so long, yet she
made it there in under fifteen. The bar and burger joint wasn’t crowded this time of the
afternoon, so she was able to get a pretty good parking spot on the side of the building.

Jogging around to the front, she pushed inside and spotted Dean sitting in a booth near

the back. He waved and she went to meet him, returning his quick hug before sliding into
the seat opposite his.

Mustering a smile, she crossed her arms on the table. “You look good, my friend.” He

always did. Dean was in his mid-thirties, with honey blond hair, big brown eyes, and a
killer smile. The whole package stopped traffic. It was a shame she felt nothing more
than mild attraction for the man, and vice versa, because it had been way too long since
she’d had any sort of an intimate relationship.

“Back atcha.” Sitting back, he eyed her in speculation. “I already heard through the

grapevine about the shooting. How are you holding up?”

“Jeez, that was fast,” she muttered. “I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“No.”
He patted her hand, his gaze softening. “That’s normal. You’ll be all right, trust me.

Especially after I give you something else to occupy your mind.” Reaching into his pocket,
he withdrew a legal-sized white envelope, and slid it across the table.

Swallowing hard, she eyed it. “My tickets?”
The agent glanced around, but there was no one nearby to listen. Still, he spoke in a

low voice. “Read that, memorize it, then destroy it.”

Turning the envelope over she glanced at her friend. “What’s inside?”
“Directions to a place that doesn’t officially exist.” He paused. “A compound in

Wyoming, situated deep in the Shoshone National Forest. Top secret, black ops.”

“Unless you know the right people to squeeze.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Exactly.”
Taking a deep breath, she asked the one question burning in her heart. “Is my brother

alive?”

“I don’t know,” he said, tapping the envelope. “But those are the ones who will.”
So close, but still no answer. Yet. She fought back the tears that would do neither

herself nor Micah any good. “You risked everything to get this information for me. I don’t
know how to thank you.”

“By not getting yourself killed.” He wasn’t joking.
“I’ll put that on the list right after finishing with IA, taking personal leave, packing, and

hitting the road.”

“Call me when you leave town, and keep in touch.”
“I will,” she promised.
“You hungry? I’m buying.”
To Rowan’s surprise, her stomach snarled. Funny how a sliver of hope could revive a

person’s appetite. “I could eat, but it’s on me. And if this lead takes me to the truth about
what happened to Micah, there’s a steak dinner in it for you when I return. It’s the least I
can do.”

“Only if you bring Micah with you,” he said softly.
Dammit, she would not cry.
“It’s a deal.”
Understandably, their meal was quite a bit more subdued than usual. Rowan was far

too preoccupied to make a good companion, but that was the beauty of true friendship;
neither of them had to say a word to be comfortable. They had each other’s backs.

While they ate, her thoughts drifted to this mysterious compound and what kind of

operation she would find. Not to mention the reception she’d receive, especially when
they learned of her mission.

But she wouldn’t leave there without finding out, once and for all, what had happened

to her brother. She and Micah had always shared a mental connection that most people
would scoff at, and certainly wouldn’t understand. They weren’t twins, but she felt
strongly that she would know in her heart if and when he died. He was alive. Had to be.

No, this wasn’t the end at all, but just the beginning. She’d find her brother if it was the

last thing she ever did.

And then she’d make reservations for three at the finest restaurant in L.A.

With every mile that took her closer to her destination, Rowan’s anxiety grew by leaps
and bounds. The gorgeous backdrop of the Shoshone National Forest, resplendent in full

summer greenery, hardly registered as she steered her truck up the winding road.

Gripping the wheel, she eyed the left-hand side of the road, looking for the obscure

turn outlined in the directions she’d memorized and then burned three weeks ago. Three
miles later, she found it. Or hoped she had.

Turning, she braked in front of a metal gate. It was simple, the kind any landowner

might use, along with the black and white No Trespassing sign nailed to a post next to
the chain and padlock. Neither posed a deterrent to her bolt cutters or her determination.

Leaving the truck running, she grabbed the cutters and made short work of the chain,

then unwrapped it, letting it hang from the gate. In for a penny. If she was in the right
place, she’d soon have a lot more to worry about than a measly charge of trespassing on
government property.

After swinging the gate open enough to drive the vehicle through, she returned to the

truck and did just that. Then she got out and closed the gate again, wrapping the chain
around it so that hopefully nothing would appear out of the ordinary to a casual passerby.
So far so good. She continued on her way.

A couple of miles deeper into the forest, the second barrier was an unpleasant surprise,

and a formidable obstacle. She could have screamed in frustration.

The chain-link fence was about ten feet tall and topped with razor wire. This gate was

much more sophisticated, at least two feet taller than the fence on either side, and
automated, with a pass code box on the driver’s side. On top of the security box, a
camera lens stared her in the face like an all-knowing eye.

“Shit.”
She didn’t have the code. And after several minutes of punching a green CALL button

and then waiting, it became evident that no one planned to answer her summons. The
operatives inside were probably having a good laugh. Maybe they thought she’d get
bored and go on her merry way.

They thought wrong.
Calmly, she reached for her purse, never happier that the captain had returned her

weapon. Extracting the Glock from within and squinting, she pointed the gun at the
camera lens. “Knock-knock, assholes.”

And fired, sending a shower of glass and metal raining all over the drive.
That ought to get their fucking attention. Best to meet them head on. Stepping away

from the truck, she tucked the gun into the waistband of her jeans and walked over to
inspect the gate. State-of-the-art stuff, a real fortress. What was this place and how was
Micah involved? She wasn’t leaving until they enlightened her.

A shuffle sounded to her left. And low growling.
Turning, she cursed softly, eyes widening. Guard dogs? Several of them, on her side of

the fence, fanning out to surround her, heads down, ears flat, fangs bared. Moving almost
silently through the sun-dappled forest.

But no, these weren’t dogs. They were . . .
Wolves! And one really large black panther?
She blinked rapidly as they approached and backed slowly toward her truck, thinking

she must be seeing things. Wolves were now common in the Shoshone, thanks to wildlife

rescue efforts. But she’d heard that wolves went out of their way to avoid humans. Right?
Just not these wolves.

And what about the big cat? Black panthers didn’t even technically exist!
Tell that to this one.
“Stay,” she called, holding out a shaking hand. “Nice doggies. I’m not going to hurt

you.”

A loud snarl came from behind her, and a glance nearly stopped her heart. One wolf

had moved behind her, blocking her escape to the truck. She was completely surrounded.
Her pulse beat a terrified tattoo in her throat as she gripped the butt of her gun, easing
the weapon from the waist of her jeans.

Just then, the images of three of the wolves and the cat began to shimmer. Sort of like

heat waves on hot pavement. Their bodies began to reform, the fur retracting. Canine
and feline limbs becoming arms and legs. What the shit? Staring, she told herself she was
not seeing a group of sexy, naked men standing among the rest of the wolves and
wearing a range of emotions on their faces, from amusement to grim resignation.

A dark-haired god of a man—wolf, whatever—strolled forward. “I’m Nick Westfall,

commander of the Alpha Pack team. And you’re in a shitload of trouble, Miss Chase.”

How did he know her name? Rowan couldn’t catch her breath to reply, even if she

could’ve formed a response. Her vision blurred and the tough woman raised in an East
L.A. barrio did something she’d never done in her life. Not even when she’d been
informed of Micah’s “death.”

She fainted dead away.

Also by J.D. Tyler

Primal Law