Sebastian

matter how hard he tried to focus on the things that made up the Den, he couldn't reach the landscape where the waterhorses dwelled. Even if the people here were ignorant of the ways of their world, Ephemera worked the same way. The land would look the same, the landmarks wouldn't change, but there were layers of landscapes here. Perhaps there were only two accessible from this bridge, but he couldn't get to the one he wanted. He couldn't cross over to the dark landscape.
    Koltak closed his eyes. There was no eagerness left, no anger left. All he wanted right now was to find Sebastian, to talk to Sebastian.
    Sebastian. Sebastian. Sebastian.
    Prodding the horse, he crossed the bridge… and into a countryside unmarred by any road.
    Relief shuddered through him. He had crossed over into this dark landscape from Wizard City. He was sure of it. But did it connect to the Den? Only one way to find out.
    Sebastian. Sebastian. Sebastian.
    With no reason to choose one direction over another, Koltak turned the horse and rode south.
    *
    Sebastian began another circuit around the Den's main street. He'd been on the move since dropping Lynnea off at Philo's, and the trolling without pleasure, combined with an unsatisfying night and fitful sleep, had left him on edge, itchy. On top of that was the sense that he was a jagged puzzle, just like the landscapes, except there wasn't the equivalent of a Landscaper to shift the pieces until they resonated in harmony with one another.
    Seeing the undiluted power of the incubus had sickened him. Realizing that the wizard power that had lain dormant in him was now trying to find some way to fit—or dominate—the rest of him made him feel vulnerable.
    Who was he when he talked to Philo, gave orders to Teaser, craved the feel of Lynnea's body brushing against his? Was he a human making plans with other humans to defend the Den, a wizard giving orders because no one would dare disobey him, or an incubus who craved whatever warmth he could get from a woman who had been an innocent before she'd stumbled into the Den?
    Who was Sebastian? Why didn't he know anymore? Wasn't he a little old for this kind of soul-searching?
    He did know one thing with absolute certainty: If the other newcomers who had come to the Den were pureblood incubi and succubi like the one he'd killed, he would die before he let any of them near Lynnea.
    He would kill before he let any of them near Lynnea.
     
    Which was why he'd spent the past few hours on the street, hunting. He'd recognize the feel of them. He was sure of that. But if they kept that power contained, they could hide behind any face, maybe even cross over to a daylight landscape where no one would recognize the danger until it was much, much too late.
    As he passed Mr. Finch's shop, which was locked tight, Mr. Finch and Wayne, the boy he'd taken in as an apprentice, paused in their reorganization of the shop to wave at him—just as they'd done each time he'd passed by. He wasn't sure if they were doing that to assure him they were who he thought they were or if they were paying attention to how long it took him to make a full circuit so they could raise an alarm if he didn't appear within a reasonable time.
    Daylight! Was he going to spend the rest of his life walking the streets, watching for trouble, protecting the people and making sure the Den remained as it should be?
    And what did it say about him that he found the prospect of such a life appealing?
    At the end of the street, where the cobblestones changed abruptly to the dirt lane that led to his cottage, he paused for a moment, then started back down the street. He'd take a break when he reached Philo's, have a cup of koffee and a plate of whatever was being served, talk to Teaser, flirt with Lynnea.
    Especially flirt with Lynnea.
    And do what? he thought unhappily. Stir up the juices, the wants and needs, and then pretend to be asleep again tonight so he didn't have to wonder if he was taking more from her than he should?
    But he wanted to flirt with her, make love to her, hold her. Just hold her. Was it the incubus or the man who wanted those things? Did knowing what was inside him really make him any different from the person he'd been a few weeks ago?
    He lengthened his stride, moving down the street with no other thought than to spend a few minutes with Lynnea. She was safe there. Teaser had volunteered to keep an eye on her—and all of them knew the offer had been made, in part, because