Smoke and Fire (35 page)

Ryder glanced away, annoyed at the questions. He scrubbed both hands down his face before he threw them out to his sides. “No' as much as I wanted, but most might think it was bordering on stalking.”

“Did you ever see her inside Kyvor?”

Ryder paused, frowning. “No. I was able to hack into their feed, but there was always something wrong with one camera or another. I'd see Kinsey on one floor, but not another.”

“Do you think they might have known you were looking?”

He gave Con a flat stare. “Absolutely no'.”

“Even if magic was used?”

That drew Ryder up short. He'd never thought about magic. “The Druid would need to be exceptionally powerful to cast a spell like that.”

“And trap someone within their own minds after taking control of them.”

Ryder looked at Kinsey and wanted to gather her in his arms. “Everything pointed to her.”

“Which, I think, was precisely the point,” Con stated. “They wanted us to kill her.”

He found Kinsey's hand beneath the blanket and held it. “What now?”

“We find out Esther's part in all of this.” Con's gaze was narrowed through the door. “I'm wondering why they would send a second spy, and then have them fight each other.”

“Kinsey came to kill Esther. It wasn't until the middle of the fight that Esther was triggered.”

Con rubbed his hand over his jaw. “Interesting. See what you can do about leading Kinsey back. I'm going to go to Esther.”

Ryder watched him leave then looked down at Kinsey. “I can no' believe I doubted you. I promised to protect you, and yet I didna. You could've died. I could've been the one to kill you. Kinsey, please come back to me. Find your way back. I need you.”

*   *   *

Ulrik listened to the exchange in Kinsey's cavern with interest. So Mikkel was using a Druid. What had he said to convince the Druid to help him?

He needed to discover who the Druid was and in what way they were helping Mikkel. Because if the Druid was as powerful as Ulrik suspected, it could put a serious cramp in his plans.

Ulrik remained where he was, watching Ryder with Kinsey after Con left. Con didn't seem that upset that another King had found his mate. Some might think Con was becoming accustomed to such things.

But Ulrik knew it was just Con being Con.

Everything would be completely different had a tracker not been implanted and magic used on Kinsey. Ryder wouldn't be whispering affections to Kinsey.

He'd be burning her dead body.

Ulrik drew in a deep breath. It was time for him to leave. He'd learned all he needed. Just as he was about to step from the cavern, Con walked into the tunnel and simply stood there.

He watched his nemesis and onetime friend. Con's gaze searched the shadows as if he were looking for something. Ulrik smiled. Did Con sense him? Why not have the Kings scour the mountain for him?

Ulrik expected that exact reaction, but Con remained silent. He looked first one way and then the other. His attention returned to the area Ulrik was in. Not everything was in place for him to challenge Con, but if his old friend wanted to battle now, then Ulrik would do it.

Except Con didn't come his way. Ulrik was confused by Con's actions. First he didn't outright kill Kinsey, and now he wasn't coming for Ulrik.

Was he getting weak?

Or was Con up to something?

If there was one thing Ulrik knew above all else about Con, it was that Con was one of the most intelligent people he knew. Con never let emotion rule him, and he looked at every situation with multiple possibilities.

It was one reason he'd become King of Kings.

Ulrik stood silently for several minutes as Con stared his way. Then Con turned on his heel and walked into the cavern where Esther slept.

After ten minutes, Ulrik left the cavern and took the long way around to his Silvers. When he reached them, he hurried to the cage and placed his hands on two of the four.

“I'm here,” he whispered.

He felt them pushing at the magic keeping them asleep. Ulrik wanted to wake them and see them soar, but he couldn't. Not yet.

“Know that I'm here and will free you verra soon,” he promised.

He moved to the next two and repeated his words. Then he spent the next few moments running his hands along their warm silver scales.

Ulrik then thought of his mountain and was instantly teleported there. He removed his suit jacket and shirt and folded them atop a boulder. Next he took off his shoes and socks before he removed his pants.

He stood naked deep in the middle of his mountain, the place he'd passed centuries asleep. It was so long ago. His time as a dragon felt like a distant memory.

But no longer. It was time for him to remember who he truly was. It was time he recalled what ruled his heart.

He drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. Despite having all of his magic returned, he'd not shifted into dragon form. The way Mikkel watched him made it impossible, and there simply wasn't room at his store.

Here, however, was another matter entirely.

Yet Ulrik hesitated. He wasn't sure he even remembered how. Eons had passed since the last time he shifted. Then it had been a mere thought for it to happen. What would it take now?

He looked down at his hands. Human hands. It was all he'd seen for thousands of years. He needed to see and feel himself in his true form, the form he'd been born to.

Ulrik closed his eyes and thought of shifting.

Nothing happened.

But he refused to give up. He focused on his breathing, on feeling his dragon magic move through him as thick as blood and as powerful as its own entity.

He imagined unfurling his wings and snapping his tail against a bolder. He envisioned looking into the water and seeing the long tendrils that ran from the top of his head down his back as well as the shorter ones surrounding his mouth—and obsidian eyes staring back at him.

When Ulrik opened his eyes he stared down at black talons and silver scales. He smiled and spread his wings wide.

 

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

How did one find their way in their own mind? That's what Kinsey faced. She wasn't sure what to do or where to go. Tristan made it sound so easy, and yet there was nothing but white all around her.

First nothing but darkness. Now this.

Black and white.

Was that a metaphor? Or was it simpler than that and she just needed to cling to something that sounded realistic?

Kinsey squared her shoulders. There was no one but herself there, no one she could turn to for help. She'd been on her own for three years. During that time she'd learned how to do all those things her stepfather and then Ryder had done for her like fixing a leaky faucet or hanging a new light.

But this was different.

This wasn't something she could attempt on her own using YouTube or Google before calling in professionals if she screwed things up.

If she messed this up, that was it. There was no do-over or reset button.

Would she even know if she totally botched things? That was a sobering—and alarming—thought. It only added to her stress level, ramping her anxiety up to the point that she thought she might vomit.

It was her mind. Who knew her better than herself?

Kinsey crinkled her nose. Well, other than trying to lie to herself on occasions, ignoring her instincts, and not being true to herself.

Right now her mind looked blank. She didn't know which way to walk or even if she should. But she couldn't stay still. Remaining where she was only ensured one thing—her death.

She turned in a circle, but there was no blinking sign that told her where to go. With no other choice, Kinsey started walking.

“You came here to spy on Dreagan and Ryder. We all know how you've betrayed him.”

Tristan's words played over and over in her head. She could shout her innocence all she wanted, but no one was going to listen. She heard the accusations in Tristan's words.

That could only mean that Ryder had found some damning evidence that pointed right to her.

Except she hadn't done anything. Kinsey knew that for a fact.

There might have been times she'd wished he was the mole in a Whac-A-Mole game, but she'd never wished Ryder any real harm. How could she when she'd loved him?

There hadn't been a soul at Kyvor or anywhere else who'd approached her about Ryder or Dreagan. That wasn't something she'd forget. So if no one spoke to her, and she hadn't gone to anyone, what evidence did Ryder have?

Kinsey wouldn't know until she found her way through her mind and was able to wake.

If this wasn't all some kind of trick.

That drew her up short. What if it was a trick? What if it hadn't been Tristan who she'd spoken with? Ryder knew she was innocent of anything. He would never let any harm come to her, and he certainly would've found some way to talk to her with Tristan.

What was real and what wasn't? Somehow Kinsey was going to have to sort it out. She might not be in her mind at all, but in some prison and pumped with drugs.

With the missing time from when she woke in Ryder's room to finding herself here, anything could've happened. It could've been moments or days that she was missing.

She squeezed her eyes closed and halted her thoughts. Her imagination was leading her down all sorts of paths, and only one of them was the right one. If she didn't listen to her feelings and follow her heart, it would all be for naught.

Kinsey drew in a deep breath. As she slowly released it, she opened her eyes. Unfortunately she was still in the all-white room.

“What's real?” she asked herself.

What she knew was that magic existed. So did the Fae, dragons, and Druids. If magic was part of the world at Dreagan, who was to say that it hadn't somehow been used on her by someone? Since dragons, Fae, and Druids were all able to use said magic, any of them could've done this to her.

Kinsey felt some of her anxiety ease as she accepted the truth of that.

If magic had been used, which seemed likely, then she could be trapped in her mind. What better way to keep her from finding the truth about those setting her up?

More of the tension eased from her shoulders. Yes. She trusted herself and her instincts, and they were leading her to the right answers.

Her mind was clear, focused.

She had to find her way back to herself so she could talk to Ryder and get to the bottom of this fiasco. Kinsey was tired of being fucked with by these people—whoever they were. It was time she exposed them and the depravity within Kyvor. It didn't matter if the entire company was corrupt, she was bringing it all down.

Her steps were long and purposeful now. She might be a simple mortal with no magic, but she had skills and a brain. No longer was she going to stand there and allow this to happen.

There was no excuse for her ignorance of the situation before. Had she really looked, she'd have seen it all. But she'd buried her head in the sand and pretended that nothing mattered. Where had that gotten her?

Back in Ryder's arms
.

Well, besides that, it had put her in a situation that could very well claim her life. She knew now what she wanted. It was her broken heart that kept pushing Ryder away, but as soon as she could, she was going to tell him the truth—that she'd always loved him.

And always would.

She wanted Ryder and his life of dragons and magic. Even if that meant she was in the middle of a war. Because if the war involved Ryder, then she was going to stand by his side and help in whatever way she could.

Though if she really was locked in her mind as she assumed was the case, and she believed it was Tristan who'd contacted her, then she also had to acknowledge that Ryder had some proof of guilt directed at her.

“Just another fight ahead,” Kinsey mumbled to herself.

She was fighting now, and she'd continue when she got out of this mind-prison she was in. Facts were facts, and she couldn't dispute them. But she could find the evidence and do what was needed to prove it wasn't her.

No matter what questions Con or any of the other Kings put to her, she knew she was innocent. Maybe Tristan could read her mind and know she was telling the truth. She'd demand he use whatever magic was needed to show that she wasn't part of Kyvor's plots.

It was a great plan. She knew exactly what she needed to do, even after she found her way back. There was just one tiny insignificant problem—she didn't know how to get back.

Tristan made it sound easy. Not that she thought getting out of her mind was going to be a piece of cake. But all he'd said was to find her way out.

As Tristan had spoken, she'd envisioned her mind like a maze. But it was nothing like that. There were no rooms, no doorways, no windows. Nothing.

She could be walking for eternity. If she didn't know what to look for, she could pass it by without even knowing it.

Kinsey stopped and put her hand to her stomach. Ryder. She needed to concentrate on him. He was the one thing that mattered above all else.

Her injured heart had led her to say and do things from the moment she'd arrived at Dreagan that made her want to cry. Despite it all, Ryder had stood beside her, touting her innocence to anyone who listened.

That kind of man was one in a million. He hadn't cared what Con or anyone thought. Ryder formed his own opinions and never wavered from his belief that she was being set up.

He'd been kind, gentle, supportive, and loving all while never putting any pressure on her. He'd held her in bed each night, offering her comfort and shelter without her even knowing it.

When she said she wasn't sure if she could forgive, he hadn't pushed her away. How she wished she could take back those words and tell him the truth—that she had forgiven him.

He was a man—a dragon—who deserved a woman who stood tall beside him. Kinsey very much wanted to be that woman. She knew she could be that woman. She could only hope Ryder gave her a chance to demonstrate it.