Dark Deceiver. Pamela Palmer

from her own brain. “Is he an albino?”

      A smile flickered over her lips, but didn’t ease the tension that gripped her eyes. “No.” She glanced at him again, cringing as if with apology. “He’s not human.”

      What was the appropriate response to such a statement? His pulse quickened as he struggled for the right words. He’d done well so far. He’d be a fool to blow this now. Humans doubted. A human would not accept such a statement easily, if at all.

      “Of course he’s human,” he said.

      The woman at his side looked away, glancing toward her own side window. “I know you’re going to think I’m nuts, but just listen. Please? It’s important.”

      Safe in silence, Kaderil relaxed and listened to her melodious voice as she launched into a fairly accurate explanation of his race and his mission, explaining how Baleris had terrorized the D.C. area several months ago, raping virgins and attempting to kill the Sitheen.

      “We know a certain amount about Esria now,” she said. “There are many races, but the Esri are the ones with the most power. They ignore most of the other races and have enslaved the Marceils. The Marceils look like small humans, most five feet tall or less. The Esri can’t enchant them like they can us, but they can control their actions.”

      She slowed in front of a large building and put on her blinkers. “I’m talking too much. And I know this is all too hard to believe. But just keep an open mind, okay?”

      She didn’t seem to require an answer, which was all for the good, since he wasn’t certain he could express adequate disbelief of something he knew so well.

      Autumn parked, then without looking at him, pulled out her cell phone. “It’s me. We’re here.” A pause. “Okay. I’ll see you in a minute.”

      She flashed him a weak, apologetic smile, but said nothing more, to his great relief, as they got on the elevator. He didn’t have time to play the doubter for longer than absolutely necessary. He must make Larsen Vale believe he was Sitheen and sincerely interested in helping them catch the Esri, if he stood any chance of finding that draggon stone in time. Two short weeks. And Larsen Vale was just the first of the Sitheen. The gatekeeper to the rest. Perhaps, between his own supposed dreams and Autumn’s explanation in the car, he could pretend to have already reconciled himself with the truth of the Esri by the time he was introduced to the Sitheen female.

      The elevator came to a halt at the top floor and the doors opened. Autumn preceded him into the hall and motioned him to follow. Soon she pushed through a door into a small stairwell and climbed. Kaderil followed, his gaze falling to the enticing curve of her hips, stirring again the desire that he feared wouldn’t cease as long as he was in her company.

      At the top of the stairs, Autumn opened yet another door and stepped outside into the cool, damp darkness of the night. The roof. An odd place to meet a lone woman.

      His hackles rose, his instincts leaping to alert. Not a lone woman. He sensed others. At least three others. And suddenly he understood. Autumn wasn’t taking him to meet Larsen Vale. She’d brought him to the Sitheen. On the roof. In the dark. A trap.

      Fool.

      He’d been so taken with her, so enchanted with her beauty, he’d failed to see the treachery within.

      The deceiver had become the deceived.

      Even as his muscles bunched for attack, his calmer mind yelled a warning for caution. It might be a test. A test he would fail if he started hurling bodies.

      But how could he know until it was too late? These were likely the very humans who’d used the death chant on Baleris. These Sitheen could end his existence this very night.

      And if he returned to Esria without the draggon stone, his life would be as good as over anyway. If there was the slightest chance this was a test, he must not attack. If there was the slightest chance he could infiltrate this group, he must take it. He had to make them think he was human, no matter what.

      And if he failed? If there was no doubt they knew he was Esri, he would kill as many of them as he could before they started the death chant. Once they started chanting, if they touched him with flame, his long existence would end. Once they started chanting, it was too late.

      The cutting breeze raked ominous fingers across his cheeks. Sharp gravel crunched beneath his heels, ratcheting the tension in his spine. Every muscle in his body readied for battle.

      The shadowed forms of three men moved into his line of vision, one moving behind him, cutting off escape.

      “Jack?” Autumn’s voice held a sharp note of apprehension.

      “Come here, Autumn,” the voice behind him said.

      He felt the brief grip of her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and moved away.

      Was it a test?

      In a savage instant, the answer became clear. Fire erupted around him in a blinding flash. The grim sound of the Esrian death chant filled the night.

      He was going to die.

      Fifteen hundred years he’d lived and this was to be his end!

      The heat licked at Kaderil’s courage. Three men surrounded him, encircling him in a ring of fire, their threatening faces lost behind the blinding flame. The fire scorched his spirit as he faced the inevitable thrust that would bring his death.

      The death chant rose on the night air.

      He was a fool! He’d let his weakness for this temp-tress blind him to treachery. And now he would pay with his very existence.

      Tension seared his muscles, strangling his spine. Trapped. Unable to fight. If not for the death chant, he would fly through the flames and attack those who would end him, but the moment the flames touched his skin, the chant would dissolve his existence in a shower of light.

      His heart thundered in his chest as he turned, 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.

      “What 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.

      “Shake 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