Black Moon (Alpha Pack #3)(53)

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Kalen could feel the tension in his neck and shoulders as Aric guided the plane to a stop on the private runway they'd appropriated for their trip. He'd sworn he'd never return and here he was. Back in home-sweet-prison.

Except for Grandma. She'd been the sole positive influence in his life, and without her, he'd quickly become lost. Until Mackenzie.

There was no doubt that his mate drove the darkness back. In spite of Malik's terrible hold over him, his mate's was much stronger. She was what Sariel had meant by opening himself to light and love-all along, it had been Mackenzie.

Still, he worried about something happening to shatter their fragile new bond. That it could be crushed like a flower in a hurricane, simply swept away on a tide of cruel fate. He wasn't being paranoid. It had happened before, the loss of his happiness, his soul. If it happened again, he could become a slave to his own darkness, never to see the light again.

"Welcome to Mayberry," Aric quipped, bringing the jet to a stop. "Jesus, what do people do for fun around here? Knit afghans?"

"Yep. When the old folks are feeling really rebellious, they throw money in the pot for the Bingo winners. And I'm not exaggerating." His three companions snickered, and he smiled at the memory of Grandma boasting of her big score.

"Hammer would be right at home," Ryon observed as they disembarked. "He could start a knitting circle since everyone knows he's really a little old lady in disguise."

Nick laughed. "Don't let him hear you say that. He swears by the pastime, says it helps him relax."

Ryon arched a dusky brow. "Dude, I can think of better ways to relax that don't involve yarn. Seriously, somebody needs to take that boy under his wing."

"That boy," Nick drawled, "lived so deep undercover for so many years he almost lost himself. He's dined with drug lords, walked the edge with homeland terrorists, and has taken out more dangerous criminals than the four of us combined. If he wants to live a quiet life while off duty, then leave him be."

Interesting. Kalen had often wondered about the big man, and the glimpse into his past made him even more curious. But now wasn't the time to dig. They'd come here for a reason, and the knowledge brought him back to reality.

A dark SUV was waiting for them on the tarmac, keys under the driver's floor mat. Ryon took the wheel and Nick called shotgun, leaving Kalen in the back. With Aric. Who eyed him before settling in, unbelievably, without a single snarky comment. In fact, when he did open his mouth, what came out was pretty damned decent.

"This thing with your folks, man, it ain't shit. You're gonna wrap up that part of your life, put it behind you. We've got your back. Remember that."

Their truce was uneasy, but it seemed to be holding. Kalen doubted they'd ever be BFFs, and the man took some getting used to, but he was all right. "Thanks. I appreciate it," he said, and meant it.

The ride was uneventful, and he checked out the town as they drove past the square. Not a lot had changed, except a few new businesses he didn't recognize. The trees were taller and fuller, and the city had done some work beautifying the place with flowers and such. Other than those minor details, it was like walking into a time warp.

A few minutes later, when Ryon pulled up in front of his old house and parked next to the curb, Kalen was sweating. He took a few deep breaths, willing himself to calm down. His father was like a pit bull-if he sensed the least bit of insecurity in his prodigal son, he'd go for the jugular and they'd end up having that fistfight that had been years in the making.

Kalen wasn't fourteen anymore. He wouldn't take the abuse lying down.

But he needed answers more than he needed to deck his father. They got out of the vehicle, four doors slamming. They started up the sidewalk, but Ryon halted in his tracks.

"Wait." The blond pushed a fall of hair from his eyes and looked around at the quaint, yellow frame house with the white gingerbread trim. The neighborhood was peaceful, leaves on the old trees swaying gently. Somewhere, a dog barked. A street or two over, children could he heard playing. A typical day.

"What?" Kalen asked, voice low.

"There are two spirits here," Ryon told them grimly. "They're warning us to leave."

"They say why?" This from Nick.

"Something about bad juju. Black magic."

Great. Just what they needed. "Somehow I should've expected this," Kalen told them. "Hang on, let me see if I can get a handle on anything supernatural."

Opening his magic, he let it flow outward, toward the house, seeking a like power. The backlash was instantaneous and knocked him backward violently. "Fuck!"

Aric caught him, saving him from smacking the pavement. "Whoa! Found it, huh?"

"Son of a bitch!" Straightening, he glanced at the redhead. "Nice catch."

"You're welcome. So, what's the deal?"

"Just like Ryon's spirits said-black magic. There's a thick net over the house, acting as a veil or protection ward of some kind."

"Can you get rid of it?" Nick asked.

"I think so." If not, they'd need a shovel to scrape him off the ground. But he refrained from mentioning that.

"Great. Just get us inside before somebody calls the cops," Aric muttered.