by Donna Grant
Although her hunt would need to go much deeper, it was a start. And that stepping stone was exactly the one she’d been looking for.
Devon saw Stacy come in and said, “I saw the missed call from Blair Athol and their interest in some security on their computers and the grounds. I want everything we have on any other whisky distilleries we’ve worked on.”
“I’m on it,” Stacy said.
Devon wanted to smile, but it was the first step up a mountain of obstacles. But, at least she was on the mountain.
And she would climb to the top!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Anson stood in complete shock as Devon entered the building. He took a step to follow when someone put a hand on his chest to block his way.
He looked down, ready to toss the bugger aside, only to find that it was Henry. Shoving Henry’s hand away, Anson shouldered his way past the MI5 agent, but once more, the mortal stood in his way.
“Move,” Anson demanded.
Henry shook his head of short brown hair. “I can’t.”
“You can. You will.”
“No, he won’t,” Kinsey said from behind him.
Anson fisted his hands. Surely they hadn’t forgotten that Kyvor had facial recognition going for a two-block radius around the building? They were taking a chance being spotted.
“She can do it,” Esther said.
Out of the corner of his eye, Anson saw Henry motion for the girls to leave, but Anson didn’t care. His entire focus was on Devon and what she had done. How long before Kyvor grasped what she was about?
How long until they tried to kill her?
Or worse?
He closed his eyes, unable to allow his thoughts to go further. All night, he’d gone over and over every situation and consequence of her alone inside Kyvor. Each had ended with Devon getting caught.
That couldn’t happen. He refused to allow it. And he’d believed that he had things under control when he’d left her flat that morning. He’d barely reached the house where Kinsey and Esther were when Henry called him.
Anson hadn’t cared who saw him as he ran down the sidewalk, barely leashing his speed in an effort to reach Kyvor before Devon—only to get there seconds too late.
“Kinsey didn’t pick Devon on a whim,” Henry said, breaking into Anson’s thoughts.
Anson didn’t want to hear any of this. Everything that would be said was to ease the tight knot of dread inside his chest that was growing by the second. But nothing could help Devon.
“Anson,” Henry bit out in a low voice filled with a touch of anger and a heavy dose of insistence.
For the first time, he really looked at Henry. The mortal was growing more uncomfortable as the moments passed. Anson took a step back before turning on his heel and walking away.
A quick glance confirmed that he’d drawn attention. All he could do was pray that Kyvor hadn’t witnessed anything because that scene on the sidewalk might just make things worse for Devon.
When they were about six blocks away, Henry tapped him on the arm and said, “This way.”
He followed without question down the narrow alley. Less than a hundred yards away were Kinsey and Esther. Once they were together, Anson leaned back against the stone of a building and dropped his chin to his chest.
“If no one else will say it, I will. You’ve lost your mind,” Esther announced.
Anson ran a hand down his face and looked at her. “Because I doona want Devon to die or have her mind controlled?”
Kinsey blew out a long breath. “I gather from the look she gave you before walking in that you tried to change her mind last night.”
“This morning,” he corrected. “There has to be another way to get what we need.”
“It’s easier with someone inside,” Esther stated.
Anson pushed off the wall and glared at her, walking to her until she had to look up at him. “Do you care so fucking little for another’s life that you’re willing to sacrifice someone to get what you want?”
“You mean, what you want,” Esther said calmly, almost daring him to let loose his anger.
Didn’t she know how tightly he was holding onto his emotions? Didn’t she realize the devastation he could cause if he lost control?
Because the one time he had let go of that control was the day he’d killed the previous King of Browns.
Henry said, “Stop it. Both of you.”
“Henry’s right,” Kinsey said. “This is getting us nowhere.”
Anson continued to glare at Esther, looking into her brown eyes. She had yet to argue against his statement, and he could see that she had no intention to. “I’m no’ going to allow Devon to be harmed.”
“There isn’t much you can do now,” Esther replied.
He spun around and walked several steps away before he gave in to the need to bellow his fury. It felt as if everything was set against him.
Henry called his sister’s name. “You aren’t helping matters.”
“She’s only speaking the truth,” Kinsey said.
Anson looked around the alley and noted the few shop entrances. It was quiet with no cameras anywhere, which meant Kyvor couldn’t see where they had gone.
It wasn’t long before Kinsey walked to him. They simply stood in silence watching the people walk past the alley unaware of the wars they fought on multiple fronts.
“They didn’t see it,” Kinsey said.
He looked at her with a frown, unsure what she was referring to.
“You saw me in pain before the magic took over my mind,” she reminded him.
Anson grimaced. It had been a horrible experience. He should have been guarding her, and yet he hadn’t been able to stop her when the magic took over.
Was that what it was like when he used his power on others? He possessed their bodies, much like the Druid had done with Esther’s and Kinsey’s minds.
“I remember nothing of what I did,” Kinsey continued. “Neither does Esther. But you witnessed it all. At first, I thought that was the reason you were so protective of Devon, but it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
He didn’t want to talk about what had happened between him and Devon with anyone. Mostly because he wasn’t sure how to classify it.
Kinsey glanced at the ground. “I like Devon.”
“No matter how I look at it, there isna a way Kyvor willna catch her,” he said.
“So you tried to stop her.”
He nodded. “I thought I’d changed her mind. She waited until I was gone before she left.”
“It was her decision. You need to understand that.”
“She wouldna have made that decision had we no’ entered her life,” he said as he turned his head to Kinsey.
She looked regretfully at him. “I can’t deny that. Devon also did her own research, digging deeper. Ryder sent me the same info she found. A person can’t look at something like that and not want to take action.”
“I should be with her. I should be standing beside her as she confronts them.”
“She’s not confronting them. She’s going to find what we need and sneak it out,” Kinsey said.
He shook his head in frustration as he faced her. “Despite MI5 going to great lengths to hide Esther’s true reason for being at Kyvor, they found her out. An MI5 agent with an entire force behind her who spies for a living. Can you honestly stand there and tell me you doona fear for Devon?”
“I do. A lot. Then I think of Ryder. I think of Dreagan, the Dragon Kings, and all the other mates. I’m doing this for them. That’s what keeps me from altering the course I’ve set.”
Staring into Kinsey’s violet eyes, he recognized the steel within her as something Ryder had fallen for. “This isna the first time Dreagan and our way of life have been in jeopardy. It willna be the last. I can no’—and willna—put an innocent’s life on the line to continue my own.”
“What are you going to do?” Kinsey asked.
“Whatever it takes.”
She lifted her chin. “Then I’ll help.”
“That includes us,” Henry said as he and Esther joined them.
Esther’s brown eyes slid to Anson. “I tend to get focused on a mission and forget other things,” she said in way of apology.
“With two MI5 agents and a hacker, we’ll be able to help Devon.” Anson nodded to each of them. “Even in the middle of Kyvor, we should be with her.”
Esther’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Magic.”
“What?” Henry asked with a frown.
“Dragon Magic. Why didn’t you use it on Devon so the Druid couldn’t harm her?” Esther asked.
Anson ground his teeth together. “I used my magic on her flat, but I didna think to protect her personally.” Because he’d expected to be beside her the entire time.
“Do it tonight when she gets home,” Henry said.
No one mentioned the “if” that hung unsaid.
Kinsey smiled suddenly. “Ryder and I got into Kyvor’s system before. They’ve since updated their firewalls, and we probably can’t communicate with Devon, but we should be able to see what Kyvor sees.”
“Get it done,” Anson urged.
“I need to be at the flat. And I need Ryder’s help.”
Esther said, “I’ll go back with Kinsey.”
“I’m staying with Anson,” Henry stated before anyone could ask.
Kinsey met Anson’s gaze. “Good luck.”
“I’m here to watch over both of you. I’ll walk you back to the flat,” Anson said.
Esther raised a brow and smiled. “No need. Just give us some of that dragon magic.”
He hesitated. They knew next to nothing about the Druid working with Kyvor. The fact that she had been able to manipulate their minds and bodies to such a degree suggested that she might very well be more powerful than any Druid they had come across before.
This Druid might even rival some of the Fae in power. It was a fact that nothing could best dragon magic. Yet. There was always a weakness somewhere, somehow. None of the Fae had ever found it, but that didn’t mean this Druid—or another to come—wouldn’t.
The Dragon Kings had never depended solely upon their magic for this reason. It would be folly to do so now. The Kings had won all of their battles because they used their skills and unity.
Times, however, were changing. And rapidly. The Kings were barely keeping up, but that was because they were playing by rules none of the others used. Perhaps it was time to put those guidelines aside.
“I doona like this idea.” Esther rolled her eyes, but he continued before she could speak. “I’m going to do it even though it goes against everything I vowed to Ryder.”
“We all know Devon needs you more than us,” Esther said.
That might be true, but none of them could comprehend what Ryder would do if Kinsey were harmed in any way. And Anson would never forgive himself either.
He was being pulled in two different directions. It wasn’t that long ago that he’d heard Warrick say something similar. He hadn’t grasped then exactly what War had meant, but he certainly did now.
Anson put his hands on Kinsey’s and Esther’s shoulders. Then he gathered his magic and pushed it into them, encircling them in a protection spell that he hoped would keep even the unknown Druid from getting to them.
When he’d finished, he dropped his arms and nodded to the girls. “Stay away from the cameras as much as you can. Hurry to the flat and doona leave until I return.”
“There won’t be a need,” Kinsey said with a grin. “We have everything we need at the flat, and it’s protected. Do what you need to do for Devon. I’ll let you know when we arrive.”
Esther gave her brother a kiss on the cheek before winking at Anson. “We’ve got this. I know London. I’ll get us quickly to the flat.”
“She’s not lying,” Henry said as the girls walked away. “She knows this city better than I do.”
Anson inhaled deeply before slowly letting it out. “Now comes the waiting.”
“And planning.”
He looked over at Henry to find the mortal grinning as he turned his mobile to the side to show specs for the Kyvor building. Anson smiled as they began figuring out the best ways in and out of the building.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ireland—middle of nowhere
Ulrik watched the pub for several hours. Graves was more than just a simple tavern. Fae—both Dark and Light—as well as Druids visited.
So did mortals.
The beat of music could be heard out on the street, but the locals in the small village didn’t seem to mind. They went about their business as if other beings weren’t walking among them. And the oddest part was that no Dark gave any of those humans a single glance.
It had taken very little to learn that no violent deaths had occurred in the sleepy town for over seven years. That was no fluke. Something—or someone—made sure the residents were left alone.
That would take a person with a healthy amount of magic and power enough to put even a Dark in their place. It had to be the Druid Mikkel was working with.
Anger sizzled through Ulrik at the thought of his uncle and the Druid in The Silver Dragon, conspiring to kill him. Mikkel knew that only a Dragon King could kill another Dragon King. Nothing he did was by chance.
That meant his uncle truly believed that this Druid could kill Ulrik.
Ulrik fisted his hands as he fought to control the tide of fury that gripped him. This must have been Mikkel’s plan all along.
No wonder the man hadn’t seemed worried about killing Ulrik once Con was dead. He had wanted to keep the Druid secret until the very end.
This was Ulrik’s fault. He hadn’t kept his hatred for Con a secret, and Mikkel had used it against him. All these months, Ulrik believed he’d outwitted his uncle. The truth was, he’d become too cocky and didn’t look at all the developments or the consequences that could come from his uncle.
Because he’d believed he could take out Mikkel at any time.
That arrogance could very well be his downfall. All the centuries of planning, all the families that had worked for him, all his aliases, and all the deals he’d made could be for naught.
No. He wouldn’t let that happen. He hadn’t come back from insanity to let his retribution against Con slip through his fingers when he was so close.
It was time for him to put all his attention on his uncle. The first step was discovering more about his Druid. He sent a quick message under one of his aliases via his mobile to his technical team to dig deeper into Mikkel.
Ulrik might know about all his uncle’s houses, cars, and business, but he wanted information beyond that. He wanted to know every nuance about Mikkel, and right now, he didn’t have time to do the research himself.
With that done, he returned his gaze to the pub. Graves sat at the edge of town. The stone and brick of the three-story building looked to be at least four centuries old, but what would the inside hold?
It was time he found out.
Ulrik pushed away from his hiding spot and walked to the black door where two men stood guard. One a Dark Fae, the other a Light. Their gazes swung to him as soon as he started toward them. They opened the door without a word.
Was it his alliance with the Dark that got him in? Could it be his war with Con? Was it because he was a Dragon King? Or was it that the Druid knew he would come?
Not that any of it really mattered. He’d planned to get into the tavern one way or another. This was simpler. And cleaner. It would give him time to look around and observe what the Druid held dear.
That knowledge could benefit him. Everyone had a weakness. No matter what they said. She hadn’t been pleased when Mikkel called her away from the pub, which meant that she preferred to be within the walls of what was hers.
Such information could be used against her once he learned if it was just personal preference or if she was more powerful within the pub’s walls.
He’d discovered soon after be
ing banished from Dreagan that the more he observed and learned about an individual, the better he could manipulate them.
As he walked through the doorway of the pub, darkness enveloped him. He was well versed in the shadows and felt at home in obscurity.
Magic pulsed within the building—and not just from the occupants. He slowly made his way through the crowd to discover that he wasn’t on the main floor. Spotting a railing, he moved to it and saw that the level was open in the middle, showing a dance floor below.
The music thumped while the area below was filled to capacity with bodies moving sensuously, erotically with the beat as they ground against each other. Lasers of various colors bounced around the room in a fabulous light show.
He noticed that there wasn’t just a mix of species within Graves but also of class. Wealth dripped from some, while others were counting change to buy drinks.
Everyone wanted in the pub. Why?
The place was decorated meticulously. The walls were painted black matte. The floor, tables, and chairs were shiny black with accents of chrome and white throughout that gave the space a contemporary vibe.
The main floor where he stood was nothing but half-moon shaped booths lining the walls so the occupants could look down at the dancers.
Ulrik looked up to find a high ceiling of mirrors. Yet he knew something was above him on the third floor. That could wait until later. For now, he would take a look at the level below.
He made his way to one of the two black, curving staircases with gold lights lining the edges. As he made his way down to the dance level, he spotted the bar on the far wall—a piece of art done in polished black.
Behind it were bartenders, who had their choice of every brand of liquor from around the world lined on glass shelves attached to a mirrored wall and lighted to show off the spectacular bottles.
The lighting was decadent, giving the atmosphere one of luxury, intrigue, and hidden treasures. It was bright enough to see but dim enough to lower inhibitions.
His attention shifted to the workers. The female employees wore leather—some full bodysuits, others little bits that covered their sex and nipples. The men were shirtless with leather pants. Some were Druids, some Fae, and some non-magical humans.
