Fire Rising (Dark Kings) (17 page)

The most modern thing in the cave was the desk lamp that sat with its light shining on an open book, a book that Kellan had been writing of the history of the Kings.

A sigh passed Tristan’s lips when he didn’t find Kellan sitting behind his desk. He had hoped Kellan and Denae would have returned by now, but he had no such luck.

“Damn,” he said and wiped a hand down his face.

Tristan looked at the scrolls and books and decided to find the facts for himself. He was standing before the shelves looking at dates when he heard a noise behind him. He turned and found Rhys leaning against the opening of the cave.

“What are you looking for? Maybe I can help,” Rhys said.

Tristan glanced at the shelves again. “I want to know what happened between Con and Ulrik, and I want to know about the war with the mortals.”

Rhys straightened, his brows raised. “I thought we had already filled you in on all of that.”

“You did. I want to read the account.”

“You mean an impartial account.”

Rhys might be a smartass and reckless, but he wasn’t stupid. Tristan nodded. “I do.”

“What’s happened?”

Damn, but Rhys was perceptive. “Did you agree with Con in sending away the dragons?”

“Nay. None of us did, nor did we want to see them slaughtered. We did what we thought was best.”

“And Ulrik? Did you agree with that?” Tristan pressed.

Rhys walked around to the other side of Kellan’s desk and ran his fingers along the top. “It’s no secret that I was against what Con wanted. Hell, Tristan, the Kings were completely divided.”

“What united you?”

“Con. He’s always had a way of uniting us. It’s one reason he’s King of Kings. Ulrik had that same ability.”

“So Ulrik could have been where Con is?”

Rhys nodded slowly. “They were the best of friends, as tight as brothers. Ulrik was content to rule his Silvers. Con was the one who wanted to be King of Kings. Ulrik decided to step aside rather than have them fight each other for the position.”

“Some considered Ulrik weak for that, did they no’?”

“Perhaps.” Rhys smiled then. “But they soon learned their lesson. Ulrik was anything but weak. He was intelligent and had a sense of battle that I’ve never seen before. No one could ever win against him.”

It all began to make sense to Tristan now.

“Why?” Rhys asked. “Why are you asking these specific questions?”

Tristan lifted his gaze to meet Rhys’s. “Because Ulrik contacted me.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Very few times in Sammi’s life had she been so completely blindsided. This latest one was a real kicker.

And she planned to throw a few punches of her own once her feet were planted on the ground again.

She looked up at Laith and glared at the black dragon. He paid her no heed as he flew them closer and closer to the manor house.

Flying didn’t give her the same excitement as it had when Tristan had taken her. Then again, she hadn’t been so angry she could chew nails.

She hadn’t ever understood that statement until then. Now, she fully understood what her mother had meant. The closer she got to the manor, the more incensed she became.

More so because she had been gullible enough to believe Laith when he said Tristan had asked her to meet him at another cottage.

“Cottage my ass,” she mumbled and propped her elbow on Laith’s hand.

All too soon they arrived at the manor. At least that’s what she thought until Laith dipped behind a mountain to glide into the valley. She glanced at the mountain. On the other side of the manor was her sister and all the other Dragon Kings.

Sammi clutched Laith’s black scales when he suddenly dove, his wings tucked against him so that they whipped through the sky like a missile.

She covered her eyes with her hands. Then she parted her fingers and peered through to see the wall of the mountain coming at her.

Before she could release a scream, Laith once more spread his wings and let his lower body drop. It halted them instantly.

She raked her hair out of her eyes as Laith landed, and still holding her in his hand, walked into the opening before them on three legs.

Sammi tried to take it all in. The opening might have been small enough that Laith had to duck his head, but once inside it was easily twice as tall as he was.

Tall enough for dragons to move about easily, she realized.

The light shining through the entrance quickly gave way to darkness, leaving her nothing to see. She blinked rapidly while hoping her eyes would adjust so she might glimpse something.

She swung her head from side to side, shifting in Laith’s hand as she did. She was so busy trying to see something that she missed the flicker of light dancing on the stones until Laith stopped.

Sammi briefly saw the torches lining a corridor before Laith set her down. She turned to face him and glowered. “Some cottage. Why lie to me?”

“Because I told him to get you here however he needed to.”

Her stomach quivered as it always did when she heard Tristan’s voice. She slowly turned and found him standing in the shadows between two torches. Sammi hated that she couldn’t see his face, not that he gave anything away through his expressions.

Tristan was a master at keeping everything carefully hidden. Much like everyone at Dreagan was. While the others had had countless centuries to do it, he’d had a few years.

“I told you I didn’t want to come here,” she told him to fill the silence since she refused to run and throw her arms around him.

“Things have changed. There is an imminent attack by the Dark against you. I had to get you to a place they wouldn’t dare venture.”

“In a mountain?”

He lowered his chin. “Aye. This isna a place we bring mortals.”

“Not even Jane?”

“Jane is … one of us.”

Sammi rolled her eyes. “Because she married into it?”

“Because she’s Banan’s mate.”

There was something in Tristan’s tone that made her shiver. “Laith explained what a Dragon King’s mate was. If the Dark Fae are coming, you’ve now brought them to the manor where Jane is. Banan won’t thank you for it.”

“I’m doing what Banan asked—keeping you from the Dark.”

“Why not just have Laith tell me the truth instead of deceiving me?”

“Because you wouldna have come,” Tristan stated. “And doona tell me you would have, because we both know you wouldna.”

She hated when she couldn’t get the upper hand. She hated even more that she wanted to go to him and touch him to make sure the previous night had really happened and hadn’t been a dream.

Why did he have to be so damned handsome?

“Am I to stay here?” she asked. When she glanced behind her Laith was gone. Whether he was in the shadows watching or gone she didn’t know.

Tristan stepped to the side. “Nay. I have a more comfortable place for you. Follow me.”

Sammi’s legs felt as if they were weighted down, as if she were walking in waist-high water. She trailed after Tristan, but she didn’t look around as before.

Everything she had told herself at the cottage about severing the link between her and Tristan had evaporated the moment she saw him.

Then he reminded her just how different their worlds were. He was immortal, powerful, and a shifter.

She was just Samantha Miller, a simple mortal who had lost everything.

It should have been like a douse of cold water. Instead, it made her want him all the more. If she reached out her hand, she could touch his back, feel his heat, remember the way his muscles stirred.

Tristan moved with the grace of a hunter. She watched him walk, wondering at the power within him. He had been tender, gentle with her at every turn.

But she knew there was a caged animal ready to pounce, a force that waited impatiently to be released. She knew the size of him as a dragon, and she could only imagine the destruction he could cause if he so wished.

His head shifted slightly to put his face in profile. “You’re unusually quiet.”

“What’s there to say?”

“You’re angry we tricked you.”

It wasn’t a question, and she let him believe the lie. When in reality she was upset that he had left her. It was for the best. She knew that now because she was already becoming attached, but it didn’t stop the hurt any.

Tristan halted and turned to face her. She pulled back so she wouldn’t run into him. His dark gaze held hers and there was sorrow and a hefty dose of doubt reflected in his eyes.

“I’ll do anything to keep you out of the hands of the Dark.”

She swallowed, inwardly wincing at how loud it was. “You said Denae survived. Tell me what she did so if I do get taken I’ll get out as well.”

Tristan’s gaze shifted to the side. “We doona know what she did.”

“Oh.” What else could she say? She had thought—expected—there to be a way to keep the Dark Fae away. “Everyone and everything has a weakness. Surely the Dark have one as well?”

“Nay,” Tristan said. He reached out and touched her hair before he turned on his heel to continue walking.

First it was the Mob, next it was the Dark Fae, and then it was the two factions working together. Now was the realization that nothing could stop the Dark.

Tristan brought her to a small room with a chair and too many candles to count that lit up the space. Alongside the overstuffed chair was a table with an iPad.

“You’ll be safe here. I’m sure Jane will be down soon to check on you. Until then, please remain in this room. I’d rather you no’ encounter Con during all of this.”

She touched the back of the chair as she walked around to stand at its front. “He won’t approve of me being here?”

“Nay.”

“What will he do to you?”

“You doona need to worry about that.”

She met his gaze. “You put yourself in a difficult situation just for me?”

“I promised to keep you safe.”

And with that, he was gone.

Sammi sat down with a sigh. After such a wonderful night in his arms, she hadn’t even been able to touch him. She’d been too afraid of herself to wrap her arms around him and plant her lips on his.

To make matters worse, she was alone with her thoughts. That’s the last thing she wanted. She needed her mind occupied or to do something with her hands, anything other than the nothingness that allowed her to think about Tristan and all that she wished for.

*   *   *

He rubbed his hands together. It hadn’t been his intention to reach out to Tristan quite so soon. Still, it had gone exceptionally well.

Tristan had kept the conversation going, and no doubt there were questions he would demand Con answer. Con wouldn’t, of course, and it would make Tristan all the more wary of the King of Kings.

From there it would take only a few more nudges to have Tristan on his side. After Tristan, he was sure others would gradually follow.

Fracturing the Kings from within. There wasn’t a more fitting end to all that Con held dear.

As for Samantha, he wasn’t sure yet how he would handle things. His alliance with the Dark Ones was precarious at best. He might have ventured into unknown territory that Con or the other Dragon Kings would never have done, but it had paid off.

To an extent at least. The Dark might agree to something, but they had their own agendas. Just as he did. They were too intent on their own pleasures, however, to realize it.

It wouldn’t just be the mortals he got rid of, the Fae—all Fae—would go with them. The Kings would soon follow once they were divided and he started the war.

After they were gone, he would bring back the dragons. The realm would once more be as it should.

He smiled as he puffed on his cigar. His musings were interrupted by the ringing of his mobile phone. He rose from the sofa and picked up the phone to answer with a succinct, “Yes?”

“The Dark Fae came through, sir. They saw a King move Samantha Miller from the cottage just as you expected.”

“They’re so predictable. Where did they take Miss Miller?”

“To a mountain.”

He squeezed his cigar until it broke in half. “Are you sure?”

“I’m relaying information given to us by the Dark, sir. We didn’t see it ourselves.”

“What else did our Dark friend say?”

There was a beat of hesitation. “He just smiled as if what happened was a challenge.”

“To them it is, but they’ll fail. No Dark would dare to venture onto Dreagan.”

“Do we stand down then?”

“Aye,” he barked. Then he cleared his throat and made sure his British accent was back in place. “Yes. As soon as you step on Dreagan land they’ll kill you all.”

“We could get more equipment from MI5 headquarters or hack into the satellite.”

He leaned against his desk and reached for another cigar. He clipped off one end with the cutter. “A valid suggestion, but there is nothing at MI5 that can help us for the moment. We sit back and let the Dark do what they want.”

“If they take Samantha, you’ll never get to her.”

“You’re a fool if you think I wanted Miss Miller.”

“But, sir … you blew up her pub.”

He smiled remembering it. “That I did. She’s done exactly what I wanted her to do, though it took her longer than I expected. She ran to Dreagan.”

“If it isn’t Samantha Miller, then who are you after?”

“Someone much more important.” And who knew Tristan would find the need to protect the mortal? It was almost too perfect. “Any other news?”

“There are four new men I’ll be interviewing tomorrow to fill in some of the spots we have open.”

“Good, good.”

“Will Mr. Calvin approve?”

“Yes.”

He almost laughed. How silly these mortals were. They had no idea that all the names he used in his many resources and affiliations were all him.

It had taken him over five thousand years, but in that time he had gained access to the most influential and powerful humans. He ingrained himself into families so that he had to simply say the word and everyone in that family would willingly die for him.

He ran the Mob—all mobs on all continents. He was the one person who decided what drugs would go where and which of his lackeys he dubbed the current “drug lord.”