Black Moon (Alpha Pack #3)(54)

There was that. Blocking out thoughts of curious neighbors, Kalen closed his eyes and opened his magic. Let it flow, cautiously this time, toward the spiderweb of wards over the house. He probed the structure here and there, found points of weakness to exploit. He worked on those while expanding his gift, searching for the right type of spell.

It was a simple veil, constructed to deceive all who viewed the house so that they would see it as it had been long ago. And the signature belonged to a creature he was beginning to know well.

"Malik," he managed. "This is his work."

He heard a couple of curses at this news, but kept his focus on the ward. On breaking it down inch by inch until finally it collapsed and dissipated like dust. What remained, the true image of the home where he'd suffered as a boy, reflected what he'd expected to find.

The house was in a state of sad neglect, sitting in a weed-choked lot, the porch falling in. The windows resembled soulless eyes, broken and weeping. The once-cheery yellow paint was faded and peeling, making the house appear diseased. That wouldn't be too far from accurate.

Ryon started up the cracked, uneven sidewalk. "Christ, what a mess. Why would Malik bother to mask the actual condition of the house?"

"I can think of one good reason," Kalen said. "He didn't want anyone going inside."

"Be alert going in." Nick eyed the house warily. "We don't need any more of you laid up or worse."

They stepped onto the porch carefully, and the rotted boards groaned under their combined weight. It seemed to hold, though.

"Ladies first," Aric quipped, smirking at Kalen. At Kalen's glare, he immediately attempted to look contrite. "Sorry. Old habits."

Kalen laughed, surprising the redhead. The others smiled, too. If he was going to be a real part of this team, he'd have to learn to laugh at himself a little. Okay, a lot.

He tried the door and the knob turned easily. Every cell ready to spring into action, he swung the door open. All that met him was the scent of dust, cobwebs . . . and something he'd smelled dozens of times before, in cemeteries all over.

Decay.

The wolves must've picked up on the scent, too, because Nick laid a hand on his shoulder. "You can wait outside if you want. Nobody will think less of you."

He knew what they were likely to find. But Kalen hadn't come this far to face his demons only to back down at the last second. "No, I'm fine. Let's do this."

At the commander's nod, they moved inside and began to search the house, sticking close. The interior must've been covered in an inch-thick layer of dust. Cobwebs littered the corners. Ryon moved into the kitchen and in a moment he called out.

"Hey, come look at this."

Kalen followed them inside and stared at the mess. The stench of old, burnt food assaulted their sensitive shifter noses. Two pots sat on the old stove, charred black with something that must've been cooking at one time. Ryon opened the oven and started coughing, slamming it closed again.

"There's a pan of something in there that I think used to be meat of some kind."

"Gross," Aric said, wrinkling his nose.

Nick waved a hand at the room. "So, dinner was cooking. And then what?"

"Nothing good," Kalen said. "Let's check their bedroom. Mom would often come home after work and change clothes after she started dinner. She always said it was nice to unwind after a long day."

He really, really hoped they didn't find anything. He'd rather his parents just be gone without a trace than to discover what he was afraid they would. But his prayers were not answered.

The reality was so much worse than he'd imagined.

Nick, in the lead, stepped through his parents' bedroom doorway first and immediately spun around, holding out both hands. "You don't need to go in there."

"Fuck if I don't! Move, Nick."

Peering around their boss, Ryon gaped and Aric shook his head. "Nah," Aric said. "You really don't want to go in."

"I'm a grown man," he said evenly. "It's not as if I didn't know something was terribly wrong the minute I discovered that the wards belonged to Malik. Let me in so I can put an end to this part of my life."

After several beats of agonized silence, they parted to allow him entrance. What he saw assured him there were some things that were never truly over-for the living, that is. Sometimes there was nothing but horror that would remain with a person for the rest of his life.

The dried-out, mummified husks of his parents lay in the room, as abandoned and forlorn as their once-unhappy home. His father lay on the floor to one side of the bed, his clothing long turned to rags. But that wasn't the most chilling detail.

He'd been decapitated. His head was sitting on the dresser at the foot of the bed, overlooking the corpse of his mother.

She had been bound to the bed, wrists over her head, and from what he could tell, had been naked when she died. Her face was turned toward the severed head on the dresser, her mouth frozen in a silent scream.

"Their spirits are still here," Ryon whispered. "They're telling me Malik did this. He bound Mrs. Black to the bed, then killed Mr. Black while he made her watch. And then he left her here to die slowly, alone with the horror of her husband's murder and her own impending death." Ryon's wide, empty gaze found Kalen. "Mr. Black has a message. He says he hates you. You're a bastard, and he hopes you rot in hell."