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Authors: Heather Killough-Walden

BOOK: The Phantom King (The Kings)
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The stranger’s molten gaze narrowed, and it felt
it tear right through to her soul
.

And then those eyes widened, just a little, and
he straightened in the doorway. His head cocked
slightly to one side. “You’re a
warlock
.

Aside from touching up old cars and antiques and making changes to a centuries-old mansion,
Siobhan rarely used her magic, and
nev
er
against people. The reason she
didn’t use her magic against people
was
because that was specifically what her magic
wanted
her to do. Her lif
e had been a struggle with her power
, with temptation, and until that very moment, Siobhan would have sworn
up and down that
she was winning.

But as she stood there within the confi
nes of her own property and
felt caged in by the massive presence of the man before h
er, Siobhan sensed
the magic pouring into her hands. It was heating up her palms and swirling just behind her eyes. It felt hot, volatile,
and
deadly.

“Please leave,” she repeated, this time
almost
more concerned for his safety than for her own.

The stranger eyed her with
careful wariness, unreadable emotion,
and with something akin to determination. The set of his jaw was hard, and his hands were clen
ched tightly where they held
to the door frame. He shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Don’t let him in, Siobhan.
Steven’s words replayed through her head.
Whatever you do, don’t let him in
.

God help me
, she thought as she stepped back, raised her right hand, and gave in to her magic. It coursed through her triumphantly, all too ready to take over, all too willing and able to know just what to do.

But as her hand lit up with dangerous light, the stranger moved forward and into the living room, slamming the door shut behind him with incredible speed. It was the last thing she expected.
She’d expected him
to move away, recoil, or maybe
even dodge to the side. Not come closer.

She flinched as the magic release
d, shooting toward his chest
in a conic stream of red light that darkened to inky black at its center. Sparkles that looked like stars danced within the darkness, motes of illumin
ation that resembled pixie dust and the Milky Way.
Siobhan
held her breath
as
for the first time in her life
she attempted to do harm to another.

But the beam of multi-colored magic struck the stranger and
was diverted, wrapping around his chest as it dissipated into a dull orange and then a gray before it evaporated altogether. The stranger watched her all the while,
his eyes never leaving hers, his tall body utterly
unharmed.

“How….”


Your magic won’t hurt me
, warlock
,” he told her, taking a step forward and shaking his head in reprimand.
“And I have to say, that wasn’t very nice.”
His look turned dark, his perfect mouth
curling in a nasty, closed-lipped smile.
It looked good on him
; God help her
.
It really did.
It was the kind of look
women ached for in the safety and comfort of their own dreams at night. It was a dangerous kind of look, all promise and predator, and Siobhan had never felt more the prey.

She
was assaulted by a menagerie of
emotions
in that moment
and
wouldn’t have been able to make heads or tails of them if she’d tried. Fortunately for her,
the conscious thoughts of her mind made wa
y for the physical actions of fight-or-flight
.
She had no choice but to give in; as far as her old brain was concerned, her life was in peril.

She raised both hands this time, and the magic poured into her palms as if someone had opened the flood gates. The stranger
looked down,
saw the light gathering at the
ends of her arms, and this time
he did react, raising his own right hand
palm-out
in response.

Power
shot from her body and raced
toward him like the blaze of a flame thrower
, but the bright, crackling magic fizzled as it neared the stranger’s own out-stretched palm. He seemed to catch it in his hand, coalescing it into a single weak ball of light before he closed his fingers, crushing the magic out of existence
altogether
.

“Who the hell are you?
!
” Siobhan finally cried, real terror taking hold of her now.
He hadn’t taken his eyes from hers, and now they sparked with magical energy, glowing nearly white to give him a demonic appearance. Siobhan’s h
eart pounded painfully. “Oh my G
od,” she said softly
, as a realization struck her
. “You’re the demon.
You killed Steven
.” Just because he had black hair and not blonde didn’t mean he wasn
’t the one who’d killed her ex-boyfriend and set fire to her house
. If a demon could catch magic the way he just had, he could probably change his appearance as well. She’
d been stupid not to consider this
before.
The lapse in judgment might now cost her her life.

But instead of admitting to the accusation
as Siobhan had expected him t
o, the stranger
frowned
and gave her a
quizzical look. “You’re talking about the detective.”

“Yes,

she said through teeth that were beginning to clench. “He
was
.”

Some kind of knowledge flickered in his white glowing gaze before the glow began to die down.
He seemed to be coming
to
a
conclusion or
an
understanding. He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I absolutely did not kill Steven
Lazarus.”

Siobhan would never be able to describe the amount of relief that flooded her system at those words. She had no logical reason to believe him. She had no ide
a who he was and in fact didn’t
even know his name.
He was some kind of being capable of great power and despite the fact that she hadn’t said it, he even knew St
even’s last name and
that he’d been a detective. He had all of the markings of the demon. She was certifiable to believe him. All the same
, she
absolutely
did
believe him. In her heart, she
positively
knew
that he wasn’t the
one who had set Steven
ablaze
, and that knowledge
was more comf
orting than words could tell
.


But he is the reason I’
m here,

he said. He stepped forward again, and Siobhan found herself stepping back. The atmosphere moved before him, as if even the very air wanted to afford him
more
room. She could feel his power brush up against her just before she stepped out of the supernatural
bubble that surrounded him, and the brush of that
magic made her skin tingl
e. It wasn’t
unpleasant.

“I know he’s here
somewhere
,” he continued
. He pulled his gaze from hers and glanced around the ol
d house. All was quiet upstairs;
there was no moveme
nt around them.
He turned in place, as if trying to sense where Steven might have gone.
“I can feel him.”

“Who are you?” Siobhan repeated herself.
Meanwhile, she
was thinking of the gun she had upstairs, a colle
cto
r’
s Smith and Wesson
she’
d repaired
along
with a lot of other items
purchased in an estate sale a few months ago. It was in working order now, thanks to her magic. And while her intruder might be immune to said magic, she very much doubted he could move fast enough to stop a bullet.

The problem was
getting
to it.
That,
and working up the nerve to use it.

As she stared at his broad, leather-encased back, his perfect tight ass beneath those worn jeans, and the sheer
height
and breadth of him, she felt horribly torn. He was so beautiful, it literally made her ache a little inside. And so far, he had done nothing to harm her.
So far.

The stranger turned back around to face her. Once more his silver eyes lightened, his pupils expanding. “My name is Thane,” he told her. “I’m….” He seemed about to explain further, but his voice trailed off and his gaze narrowed. “How much do you know, warlock?”

“About what?” she asked. It would be ten running steps to the foot of the staircase, another seventeen steps to the second floor, and eight steps after that to the bedroom door. She knew. She’d counted them.

“About what you are.” He eyed her warily. “About what Steven Lazarus
now
is.”

“Thane,” she
repeated, ignoring his question
. “Is that it?” She hedged a little closer to the edge of the wall, preparing to break into a run. “No last name?”

“It’s short for Thanatos,” he told her. “No last name, an
d believe me you won’t get two steps in before I catch
you.”

Siobhan froze, inside and out.
The incisors she’d noticed before were longer now. Fangs. Like a vampire’s.

Or a demon’s,
she added
.
No matter what the hell he says.

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