Page 3 of A Demon King Called Kerak
Silva narrowed his eyes. “Who?”
At this rate, his teeth were going to be powder in his head. Ignoring Silva, Kerak met Wylder’s gaze. “Will you come with me?”
Wylder hesitated for only a moment. “Yes.”
Surging forward, faster than he knew even Silva could track, Kerak gripped Wylder’s shoulder. Keeping the fact that Wylder was half-human in mind, Kerak poured his power out, knocking Silva back at the same time he pulled Wylder forward and out of the office. He threw Wylder over his shoulder and sped out of the building and up into the sky, bending gravity to his will. Within moments, they’d reached their destination.
“What the fuck,” Wylder said, dropping to his knees to retch in the grass. He sucked in several shuddering breaths before looking around. “Where are we?”
“Cabot Park.”
“A car would have worked, you know.”
Kerak growled and stepped toward their destination. The door didn’t look like much—faded turquoise paint and a single security light, gently flickering in its holder.
Once Wylder was on his feet, he stepped up next to Kerak. “Wait…is this it? This is a maintenance shed.”
So it was. The shed was built into one of the sloping hills at the back of the park. From the front of the hill, it looked like every other one—covered in grass and dotted with wildflowers—but, from this side, the lone steel door set it apart.
Wylder turned to face Kerak. “Thisis the door to the Fae realm?”
“It is.”
Beside him, Wylder’s breath was still heaving. Kerak watched him stare at the door. So much of Wylder’s short human life had been turned upside down because of this door when he’d only been a baby, and then again when he’d learned of its existence and his singular ability to open it. Kerak wanted to give him a moment, but time truly was of the essence.
“Wylder. We need to open this door. Now.”
Wylder nodded and swallowed, turning his head to meet Kerak’s gaze. “You really can hold back the Hunt?”
“I can, and I will.” Kerak let out a breath. “I won’t lie, opening the doorisdangerous. Silva and the others are right to be against it. But I…”
“You’ve got to save your mate.”
“Yes, and for me, no cost is too high to accomplish that goal.”
Wylder chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Silva’s going to be so pissed, but I get it. If he was on the other side of this door, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to open it. And knowing my mom is over there…” When he looked at Kerak again, the trepidation from before had vanished. “How do I open it?”
“Your blood. Just a drop. You’re the only half-human, half-fae in existence. You belong to both worlds, so this door is no barrier to you.”
Kerak lifted Wylder’s hand. He transformed the nail on the index finger of his other hand, letting it harden and lengthen into a smaller version of the talons of his demon body. Carefully, he made a small cut on the meatiest part of Wylder’s palm.
“Wylder! Don’t!” Silva’s voice rang out as he rounded the corner of the hill.
Kerak turned to face him, ready to intercept.
“I’m sorry, Silva.” Wylder glanced in Silva’s direction, then he reached for the doorknob with his bloodied hand.
Chapter
Three
DEADWOOD, 1876
Reid
Reid had always known he was…different. For one, he’d had no interest in courting any of the young ladies his mother constantly mentioned to him from their church back east. The truth was, he hadn’t had interest in courting anyone except maybe his best friend, George. It wasn’t that being gay was all that terrible a thing—even if it was frowned upon by some. At least, he hadn’t gotten himself turned into a vampire like their neighbor down the street.
It was said that so many people fled to the New World to get away from the paranormals lurking in the shadows of Europe. Surely, the monsters hadn’t found a way to cross the ocean and infect the new land, too? But they’d been wrong. All his life, from growing up on the streets of Boston to heading out West to make his own way, there had always been paranormals.
