Self-preservation raised its head. He started to rise, eager to get out of there, but Malik held out a hand.
“Hear me out. Don’t you want your questions answered?”
Yes, he did. Badly. He doubted prying them from the fucker would be as easy as that, but he sat
again, reluctantly. “All right. Let’s start with why you want to hurt innocent people.”
Malik affected a solemn expression, like a doctor about to tell someone he had a terminal illness.
“Innocence is more of an illusion than anything my magic could possibly create. The sole innocent
creatures are newborns, and all are eventually lost to temptation. There are no exceptions to this rule.”
“You’re wrong. My mother was innocent,” he refuted tightly.
A flash of anger lit the Unseelie’s eyes, then was quickly masked. “No. Your mother was weak. She
did not protect you from the worm you called ‘Father.’”
He sucked in a breath. “How do you know that?”
“She feared for herself more than she cared to protect her child, and that makes her among the most
loathsome of her kind. I saw how she cowered while he beat you senseless, time after time. I saw how
she ultimately handed your fate to David Black, allowed him to toss you into the street like a sack of refuse.”
“And why the hell didn’t you intervene, if you cared so much?” He glared at the Unseelie.
“I had to wait. It wasn’t time.”
“Wait for what ?”
“For you to take your rightful place as my apprentice. To rule at my side.”
“I was homeless, you fucker,” he hissed. “I had to turn tricks to survive. You couldn’t have
contacted me a helluva lot sooner—like, say, when I was a scared teenager with not one person on earth to turn to?”
“I couldn’t get near you, boy,” Malik snapped, scowling. “The old woman made certain of that.”
“Grandma?” The Unseelie waited for him to put it together. “The amulet. She said it would protect
me from harm, no matter how great the evil. Hold up. Did she mean you, specifically? Did you know my
grandmother?”
Kalen moved to the edge of his seat, gripping the highball glass so hard his knuckles whitened. He
tried to push down the panic beginning to seize his lungs. What the fuck did all this mean?
“Yes, I knew Ida. She was a thorn in my ass for many centuries.”
“Wait. What?” Kalen took a generous gulp of his Cognac, trying to get a hold on the conversation.
“Centuries? You—you’re lying.”
“Hardly. Ida May Ventura was a four-hundred-twenty-three-year-old Seelie, and a very powerful
one. Well, until her final days, anyway.”
Eyes wide, Kalen stared at Malik, speechless. For several long moments he could do nothing but
process what the Unseelie was really, truly telling him. Shock held him immobile.
“Are you saying . . . that I’m Fae?”
“Down to your last drop of blood. Sorcerers are not mere humans imbued with the gift of simple
witchcraft.”
“Oh, God.” Mind spinning, he tried to assimilate this revelation.
“You’re a rare breed. Very few Fae are powerful enough to become Sorcerers,” Malik said, a slight
smile playing about his lips. “Even I am not a Sorcerer.”
“That’s why you want me and why my power is valuable to you.”
“I won’t deny that as two Fae—a king and his second in command—we’ll be unstoppable together
and that I can accomplish my goals much more quickly with you than not. But that’s not the only reason I desire your presence.”
“Why else, then?”
Malik shook his head. “You’re not ready to hear it yet. Soon.”
Okay, that missing piece of the puzzle would have to wait. Trying another tack, he asked, “How did
you know my grandmother? What’s your connection to my family?”
“The Fae are not a vast people numbering in the millions,” he replied smoothly. “We had met.”
“Yeah, but you said Grandma was Seelie. You’re Unseelie. I seriously doubt she ran in your circles.”
“True. However, we
“Hear me out. Don’t you want your questions answered?”
Yes, he did. Badly. He doubted prying them from the fucker would be as easy as that, but he sat
again, reluctantly. “All right. Let’s start with why you want to hurt innocent people.”
Malik affected a solemn expression, like a doctor about to tell someone he had a terminal illness.
“Innocence is more of an illusion than anything my magic could possibly create. The sole innocent
creatures are newborns, and all are eventually lost to temptation. There are no exceptions to this rule.”
“You’re wrong. My mother was innocent,” he refuted tightly.
A flash of anger lit the Unseelie’s eyes, then was quickly masked. “No. Your mother was weak. She
did not protect you from the worm you called ‘Father.’”
He sucked in a breath. “How do you know that?”
“She feared for herself more than she cared to protect her child, and that makes her among the most
loathsome of her kind. I saw how she cowered while he beat you senseless, time after time. I saw how
she ultimately handed your fate to David Black, allowed him to toss you into the street like a sack of refuse.”
“And why the hell didn’t you intervene, if you cared so much?” He glared at the Unseelie.
“I had to wait. It wasn’t time.”
“Wait for what ?”
“For you to take your rightful place as my apprentice. To rule at my side.”
“I was homeless, you fucker,” he hissed. “I had to turn tricks to survive. You couldn’t have
contacted me a helluva lot sooner—like, say, when I was a scared teenager with not one person on earth to turn to?”
“I couldn’t get near you, boy,” Malik snapped, scowling. “The old woman made certain of that.”
“Grandma?” The Unseelie waited for him to put it together. “The amulet. She said it would protect
me from harm, no matter how great the evil. Hold up. Did she mean you, specifically? Did you know my
grandmother?”
Kalen moved to the edge of his seat, gripping the highball glass so hard his knuckles whitened. He
tried to push down the panic beginning to seize his lungs. What the fuck did all this mean?
“Yes, I knew Ida. She was a thorn in my ass for many centuries.”
“Wait. What?” Kalen took a generous gulp of his Cognac, trying to get a hold on the conversation.
“Centuries? You—you’re lying.”
“Hardly. Ida May Ventura was a four-hundred-twenty-three-year-old Seelie, and a very powerful
one. Well, until her final days, anyway.”
Eyes wide, Kalen stared at Malik, speechless. For several long moments he could do nothing but
process what the Unseelie was really, truly telling him. Shock held him immobile.
“Are you saying . . . that I’m Fae?”
“Down to your last drop of blood. Sorcerers are not mere humans imbued with the gift of simple
witchcraft.”
“Oh, God.” Mind spinning, he tried to assimilate this revelation.
“You’re a rare breed. Very few Fae are powerful enough to become Sorcerers,” Malik said, a slight
smile playing about his lips. “Even I am not a Sorcerer.”
“That’s why you want me and why my power is valuable to you.”
“I won’t deny that as two Fae—a king and his second in command—we’ll be unstoppable together
and that I can accomplish my goals much more quickly with you than not. But that’s not the only reason I desire your presence.”
“Why else, then?”
Malik shook his head. “You’re not ready to hear it yet. Soon.”
Okay, that missing piece of the puzzle would have to wait. Trying another tack, he asked, “How did
you know my grandmother? What’s your connection to my family?”
“The Fae are not a vast people numbering in the millions,” he replied smoothly. “We had met.”
“Yeah, but you said Grandma was Seelie. You’re Unseelie. I seriously doubt she ran in your circles.”
“True. However, we
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