Sebastian

but the horns could gore him just as effectively.
    He felt the tingle of power, but he still hesitated to reveal the wizard side of his nature.
    Then the male roared, lowered his head, and charged—not at Sebastian but at Teaser, the rival male who was holding the female prey.
    Sebastian leaped on the male, one hand grabbing a horn while the other hand clamped on the male's throat. As they twisted and fell, he let the wizard's lightning surge through him and into his hands.
    The male screamed as the lightning ripped through it, burned it, razored through brain and heart.
    Finally it stopped moving. The smell of burned flesh hung in the air.
    Sebastian rolled away from the male and lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling, sickened by what he'd just done. And sickened even more by a loss of innocence—not just because he'd killed, but because he'd seen a truth about himself.
    "Sebastian?"
    Lynnea.
    The sound of her voice got him to his feet. Thank the Light, Teaser had pulled her into the corridor and had blocked her view of the last of the fight.
    He moved to the doorway. "It's dead," he said in a flat voice.
    She looked at him, studied his face, his eyes—and relaxed.
    "I have some things to take care of here. Can you get Teaser back to his room?"
    Teaser looked about to protest, then realized what Sebastian wanted. "Yeah." He leaned on Lynnea, who immediately wrapped her arms around him. "Yeah, I'm a little shaky."

    "Of course you are," Lynnea said. "That was horrible, seeing someone wearing your face."
    Sebastian wanted to touch her, hold her, let her warmth cleanse what was churning inside him. But he felt too vile, too filthy to get even another step closer. So he watched her lead Teaser to the stairs. Then he turned and walked back into the room.
    The male was dead. Unquestionably dead. Sebastian's stomach rolled as he looked at the body.
    It must have tried to change again, or maybe that had been its body's reaction to being burned inside by the wizard's lightning. It was now a twisted blend of bull demon, his own face, and something dark-skinned that might have been the male's natural form.
    The woman was dead. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled the sheet up over her. She might have crossed over with a friend, might have someone looking for her. If not…
    Humans who came to the Den seldom gave their real names or told anyone which landscape they called home. If there was no one here who knew her, they would bury her in the fields—and her friends and family back home would eventually accept that she was one of those people who had gotten lost in Ephemera's landscapes.
    Pulling the blanket off the bed, he wrapped the male's body so no one else would have to look at it.
    When he was finished, he just stood there, rubbing his thumbs over his fingertips. He, too, had the power to kill.
    And he was going to make sure that… thing… stayed dead.
    He walked out of the room, closed the door, and went down to the clerk's desk to give his orders.
    *
    Dalton stared at the wooden planks that crossed the narrow creek and counted to one hundred for the tenth time.
    Too long. Even if Faran had decided to check the saddle on Koltak's horse or had been listening to further instructions, the guard had been gone too long.
    "Henley, Addison," he called without taking his eyes off the bridge. "Cross over and find out what's delaying Faran." As the two men handed their reins to the two remaining guards, Dalton held up a hand to detain them. Walking over to his own horse, he removed a lead rope secured to his saddle. "Tie this to your belts. Henley, you cross over the bridge to the other landscape. Addison, you stay on this side of wherever that bridge leads. If there's trouble, Henley will pull the rope twice. That's the signal to pull him out."
    Watching the two men tie the lead rope to their belts, Dalton felt the heat of embarrassment stain his face.
    He knew it was foolish. No amount of rope would make any difference once a person crossed over to another landscape. But he wasn't going to let another man cross that bridge without trying to find out what was happening on the other side.
    Henley and Addison moved across the planks that made up the bridge, keeping the length of the lead rope between them. The wood looked sturdy enough, but if the planks broke, the bridge would be gone, and there would be no way for Koltak to come back to Wizard City from that direction. No way to find out what had happened to