Page 2 of Hidden

The night was silent but for the beat of wings. He could almost feel the fae’s gaze searching the darkness. The way she held herself—and the gun—said she was trained to use it.

Her fierce confidence made her even more compelling. The itch to confront her—to see who had the superior battle skills—almost made him forget his carefully maintained calm. His pulse thundered in his ears.

She turned away, shattering the moment. With a hop and scramble, she reached the lip of the valley, vanishing for a moment into the gloom beneath a pair of giant cedar trees. When she emerged again, she was outlined against the sky.

Then she raised her hand and spread her fingers wide. Rafe blinked as spears of light arced between them like a fistful of lightning. A spell crackled, raising the fur along his spine.

The brilliance rippled outward, making a corona against the horizon. Forgetting all caution, Rafe stood for a better look. Afterimages of the woman’s silhouette danced in his vision, merging with the trees.

What was she doing?

The sky wavered like the surface of a pond. Stars swirled and ran, reminding him of a Van Gogh painting. Then the darkness around her melted away, replaced by a modern, white-walled mansion sparkling with lights. It stood a hundred yards away, as if plucked from the cover of an architecture magazine.

The female stepped onto the smooth concrete path that led to the door.

Finally, Rafe understood. This was a glamour—a fae spell that confused the senses of their victims. Sight, sound, and scent could be confused. And a villain could hide in plain sight.

The fae had hidden an entire mansion behind their spell. The one they sought had been here all along, so close the wolves might have run him to ground like an autumn stag. No wonder the cubs called him the Magician.

The depth of the deception dragged an angry rumble from his chest. The female’s head turned slightly, catching the sound. She hurried forward, her boots all but silent on the walk. It was like watching a phantom falling into a dream. A moment later, the mansion—and the female—vanished. The horizon was nothing but stars and trees, empty of fae.

His gaze probed the darkness. Even in that short time, he’d learned the female’s form, and he wanted her within his sight. That made no sense. She was not for him.

Fae. The enemy. Anger crackled through him, bright as her magic spell—and now he could act on it. The killer had hidden himself away, but Rafe had found his den.

The hunt was on.

A silent rush of magic activated the concealment spell, hiding the house and the yard around it once more. Lila shivered slightly, the tingle of power leaving gooseflesh behind. When she glanced back, only a faint blur showed where a film of magic interrupted her view of sky and trees.

Lila exhaled, wishing she could relax. Something had been watching as she crossed the valley and climbed the trail to this place. She had felt the weight of its gaze like a physical pressure, though she couldn’t tell whether it had been a two- or four-legged beast. Fae had good night vision, but she hadn’t been able to spot it among the forest growth. An expert stalker, then. A predator.

Her shoulders twitched, as if shrugging off that gaze. She should have felt protected here, inside the circle of fae magic, but calm eluded her. Hopefully, that wasn’t an omen. Maybe it was just the awkwardness of coming here uninvited.

She started up the smooth path to the front door. Now that she was closer, she could see how far the building rambled, hugging the uneven landscape all the way to the rocky shore of the lake beyond. A quick count of windows said there was enough room to house dozens of people, though she saw no sign of anyone now. No lights shone in the windows or above the doors. The place seemed deserted.

Her brother should be there. It had been her older sister, Sala, who’d insisted someone visit and see what Ademar had got himself into. Now Lila wondered if the address was correct—not that this place technically had one.

Nothing with her family ever went according to plan.

Mounting the porch steps, Lila scanned for defensive wards. This was no ordinary dwelling, but a way station under the command of the Forest King. Such places existed wherever royalty traveled between palaces—or, more likely, luxury condos if they were in the city.

In theory, the laws of hospitality governed the way stations—all comers got a bed and a meal. Even the lesser fae—the tiny winged beings who frequented gardens and riversides—would find a bed and mug of nectar. As a result, the way stations were usually bustling with guests.

Most way stations were ancient, measured in hundreds if not thousands of human years. This place was brand new, which was interesting. Lila studied the sweep of the roof, the soaring arch over the door. Whoever built this had powers similar to her own. She’d made a career in magic-assisted architecture and knew how to coax living wood to bend and shape as she desired. Without even touching a single beam, she sensed someone had spelled this place from the forest within the last few months. And while one individual may have created the building, more than one would have pooled their energies to ensure the magic endured.

Why build this one, and not use one that already existed? And why was no one here? That was just—odd.

Lila paused before the door, fingering the butt of her pistol for a moment before placing her palm against the white paneled door. A faint surge of power tingled against her hand as the locking spell tested her. Once it recognized her as one of the wood fae, it released with a soft click.

The door swung open. Lila’s hand returned to her weapon as she stepped inside. She’d trained in defensive magic, but sometimes—like in an ambush—a bullet was faster and more reliable. With a pounding heart, she listened to the profound silence.

The overhead light blinked on, triggered by her presence. The entry hall was large but as impersonal as a hotel, with white walls framing a checkerboard marble floor. She took a few steps forward, ears straining for sounds. There should have been dozens of servants tending to the needs of guests, but there was only silence.

“Hello?” she called.

Echoes pulsed against the high ceiling, mimicking her heartbeat. She was about to call again when something moved overhead. She froze, her jaw aching with tension.

“Ademar?”

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