Текст книги "Black Magic"

Автор книги: J. Tyler

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Black Magic
Alpha Pack – 1.5
by
J.D. Tyler

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 memessage 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’dthink 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 didknow, 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 hatedthat 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 notturn 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 meaway! 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 washere 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.