Dark Deceiver by Pamela Palmer Page B

looking for escape, but he was well and truly trapped. Waiting.
    Waiting. It suddenly dawned on him his attackers weren’t striking. He shielded his eyes against the flare of light and studied the face of the dark-haired human who was doing the chanting. In his eyes, he saw not deadly intent, but wariness. Watchfulness.
    Waiting.
    A test. A test he would fail if he didn’t stop acting like an Esri expecting death. His brain scrambled for a suitably human reaction.
    â€œWhat in the hell are you doing?” he growled. “If you burn me, I swear, I’ll sue you for all you’re worth.”
    The death chant ended abruptly. Kaderil’s muscles bunched to leap and attack while he had the chance. He fought the need of the Punisher and forced himself to remain motionless. He must convince them he was human. The time to kill would come later.
    His heart thudded in his chest as he watched the dark-haired human’s gaze shoot to another’s, a flash of amusement passing over his features. “Sue?” But when the man’s gaze returned to Kaderil, his eyes were once more grave. “Take off your coat.”
    Kaderil did as he was told, peeling off the leather jacket with hands damp with sweat, then dropped it at his feet. To his surprise, the dark-haired man picked up the piece of clothing and ran his hands over it briskly.
    â€œShake his hand, Jack,” one of the others said pointedly. The man’s words sent tension twisting through Kaderil’s already taut muscles. Like the Esri, Sitheen could have any of an infinite array of gifts. What magic did the man possess that was about to be turned against him?
    As the dark-haired man handed him back his jacket, he thrust out his hand. “I’m Jack Hallihan.”
    Kaderil had no choice. He wiped his damp palm on his jeans and extended his hand. As the distance between them closed, he felt an odd tingling along the surface of his skin. Magic, but of a kind he’d never before encountered. Not magic so much as the promise of it.
    As their hands made contact, an odd jolt shot up Kaderil’s arm. Not painful, not exactly. But neither was it pleasant. An electric jolt, his borrowed thoughts told him, though he knew he’d never experienced such.
    â€œKade Smith.” Kaderil’s tone was unfriendly and wary, but he couldn’t do a thing about it. Probably any man’s would be the same under the circumstances, human or Esri.
    Jack grasped his hand longer than was customary, then released him and went silent. His gaze turned distant as if he were listening to something no one else could hear. The others waited with an air of expectation that had Kaderil’s heart pounding. Somehow Jack Hallihan could identify an Esri.
    â€œA mix of human and Esri blood like the rest of us,” Jack said, finally. “Though he has a lot more magic.”
    â€œSo he’s Sitheen?” the second man prompted.
    â€œYes. And a damn strong one.”
    Kaderil stared at him. The human, Jack, was wrong. He was not Sitheen. Either the man had no true gift or he was lying. Kaderil knew he had a small amount of human blood running through his veins, but he was Esri and immortal.
    â€œWhat did you do?” he demanded. “Why do you think you know the mix of my blood?”
    A low chuckle rumbled from Jack’s throat, a sound of honest, if wry, humor. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Sorry for the theatrics. I’m not sure how much Autumn told you, but we’re dealing with an enemy of unknown abilities. We can’t be too careful.”
    Jack’s voice had lost its tightness. As he spoke, warmth slowly replaced the chill. Unless the human was a skilled actor, it seemed he believed his assertion that Kaderil was Sitheen. Human.
    Kaderil’s knees nearly buckled with relief. Whatever the man’s gift, it had failed. The tightness began to seep out of his muscles. The first step of his mission