strength in the woman who had easily brought über-alpha and powerful wizard Anton Cheval to his knees. Her father might act like the ruler of his own kingdom, but even he acknowledged his mate’s alpha nature.
Of all the known Chanku, none of them, as far as Lily knew, were evil. As wolves they had the power to kill, but they also lived by a code of honor. Evil was a trait that would have shown up very quickly. One thing she’d learned to count on with the pack was the way they watched out for one another. They truly were a family, and if someone had problems, they were the pack’s problems to be dealt with and solved before they were put aside.
But someone was raping and killing young women, and if it wasn’t Chanku, it was someone intending to make it look like Chanku. Lily circled the garden once again.
Her nose wrinkled at the stench of old blood and death, and the overlying sense of something terribly wrong. She couldn’t place it, knew that, if asked, she’d not be able to describe it, but she also knew she would never forget it.
Finally, satisfied there was nothing more she could learn, she turned away and trotted slowly back to the spot where she’d left her clothes.
Her joy in the night felt tarnished, just like her mother’s garden. She was absolutely certain it would be a long time before she ran this way again.
Sebastian adjusted the bow tie on the black silk shirt he’d selected to wear with his tux and once again checked the time. The week had flown by, but he’d spent the hours immersed in his father’s collection of books on magical theory and practice, and he felt as if he’d strengthened his own magic through knowledge. Now it was time to study another kind of magic.
Tonight’s reception was his first truly public event with his father—though why the man had chosen a reception in San Francisco honoring the Montana neighbor he claimed to despise really didn’t make much sense.
No matter. Aldo Xenakis had an amazing, inbred charisma. When he walked into a room, people naturally gravitated toward him and gathered about him. When he spoke, they listened. When he gave an order, no one asked why.
They merely did his bidding.
That was the thing that had stood out the first time Sebastian met his father, the trait that had impressed him the most. He’d since studied the man carefully, watching the way he moved, the words he used, the intonation of his voice.
Tonight Sebastian would do as he always had—he’d keep his mouth shut and stand beside the man he knew he’d never fully understand, and continue to do his best to figure him out.
How else was he going to learn how to move within the same rarified social circles? His mother certainly hadn’t had the opportunity. No, she’d spent her life living alone and afraid, focusing entirely on her only son. Loving him.
He sighed. She’d loved him all right, but she’d lied to him, too. He wondered what his life would be like if he’d never found her divorce papers or his original birth certificate with his mother’s real name—one listing Aldo Xenakis as his father.
How different would things be if he’d never hunted for the man, if he’d listened to his mother’s pleas that he leave well enough alone?
She’d asked him to promise. On her death bed she’d begged him to promise he would never search for his father.
He hadn’t been able to do it. Hadn’t even had the guts to lie to her. She’d gone to her grave, telling him he was making a terrible mistake.
Some days he had to agree. But then, some days . . .
“Sebastian?”
“Yes, Father?” He glanced at his father’s reflection in the mirror and corralled his unsettling thoughts. Aldo stood in the doorway, still dressed in his everyday dark suit.
“I’m sorry,” he said, studying Sebastian as if he was some sort of exotic bug, “but I will not be attending tonight’s event after all.”
Sebastian turned slowly and watched his father, wondering what the
Kami García, Margaret Stohl