Blaze

by Donna Grant

  But all were beautiful.

  All around him, Fae, Druids, and mortals laughed, drank, and danced as one. How had he not known the existence of such a place? Not once had a Dark made mention of Graves, which seemed odd in itself.

  His gaze scanned the people as he walked among them. When he reached the bar, he turned to face the room, leaning his back along the wood. He studied the dancers for a long time. How free they looked, how limitless and uninhibited.

  He’d felt that way at one time. It was several lifetimes ago, but it still haunted him. Never again would he enjoy such a feeling. Perhaps it had never meant to be his to begin with.

  Ulrik pulled himself from the precipice of such thoughts and returned his attention to Graves. In any other place, the Dark would be draining the mortals of their souls with sex so wonderful the human wouldn’t have any idea they were dying.

  The Dark weren’t using glamour to hide their red eyes or the silver in their black hair. The Light weren’t attempting to hide their silver eyes.

  It was more than that, however. Though the Dark and Light danced with the mortals, not a single human seemed to be throwing themselves at the Fae. Though all Fae could shut off the allure that pulled humans to them, leaving the Fae to keep control wasn’t smart because they always gave in to their particular appetites. However, it would take a considerable amount of magic to keep the normal magnetism of the Fae at bay.

  Another testament to the power of the Druid.

  And since none of the Fae were trying to woo their human dance partners with sex, the Druid must have also contained them.

  Ulrik was becoming more intrigued about her by the second. How he hated that Mikkel found her first. In his search for a Druid who could unlock his bound dragon magic, he hadn’t even heard of one such as she. If he had, he would’ve sought her out immediately.

  Now he understood why his uncle had demanded that Darcy be killed. Darcy had been powerful enough to touch his dragon magic and not die. Then she’d been able to break Con’s spell binding Ulrik’s magic.

  In other words, Darcy might have been able to rival this Druid. It was too bad that Darcy had lost her magic while helping him. If Mikkel hadn’t discovered her, and she hadn’t become Warrick’s mate, then she could’ve been of use to Ulrik.

  Ulrik sensed he was being watched. He looked up, his gaze clashing with a woman of such lethal beauty that, for a heartbeat, he forgot why he was there.

  Eilish.

  The Druid was standing above him at the railing with her eyes locked on him. They stared at each other for a long minute before she turned to the stairs. He remained at the bar and waited as she gradually made her way to him. Despite her being human, he found her delightfully exquisite.

  Long, dark waves of hair fell about her shoulders and down her back. Just like her employees, she was encased in all black from her stilettos to the tank that molded to her ample breasts.

  He didn’t take his gaze from her once as she came to stand beside him. Shifting toward her, he looked into her eyes that were a striking mix of green and gold with mocha skin that looked as if it were gilded.

  One of the bartenders placed two glasses of whisky before them. Silently, they watched each other, sizing one another up.

  She rested her left arm on the bar. He spotted the silver claws that fit to her second knuckle on four of her five fingers. The design was Celtic in nature and so elaborate that the historian in him wanted a closer look.

  Finally, he said, “Since I missed you at my store, I thought I’d stop by to see what you wanted.”

  Her smile held no tenderness. “That was your second mistake.”

  Intrigued, he tossed back the whisky. Her American accent captivated him, but it was the hint of an Irish brogue that held him spellbound. So much so, that he set the glass down and found himself asking, “My second? What was the first?”

  “Believing I’d want to hear anything you have to say.”

  “I doona think that was a mistake since you’re standing here talking with me.”

  Her ire was evident in the way her green-gold gaze narrowed. “You think because I’m standing here that I give a rat’s ass?”

  “I do. I think my uncle has used you repeatedly, but I think you’re curious about why he doesna want to take me on himself.”

  “Don’t, for one minute, think I’m a fool.” She drank her whisky in one swallow and motioned the bartender to fill both of the glasses again. “I know who you are, Dragon King.”

  He wasn’t surprised. She didn’t look like the type of woman who wouldn’t learn everything she could about those who employed her particular talents—or those she was to use those talents on.

  “Do you?”

  Her eyes flashed as she cut him a look. “The banished King of Silvers who dared to begin a war with mortals.”

  “They began the war,” he bit out, the old anger rising quickly at the mention of the betrayal that had torn his life apart.

  She raised a brow, a faint smile upon her lips. “Indeed.”

  This was usually the part where he found out how she was working for Mikkel and discovered if he could win her to his side. But after their brief exchange, he knew that wouldn’t work. She was different.

  So, he would take another approach.

  “I’m going to kill Mikkel,” he announced.

  There wasn’t the least bit of surprise on her face. “Why tell me?”

  With those three words, he had the answer to his unspoken question. She assumed he’d do that very thing—and so did Mikkel. Which, of course, meant that his uncle had put precautions in place to prevent such a measure. Namely, Eilish.

  Ulrik was going to have to fight her to get to Mikkel. The idea of killing a human didn’t bother him one bit after everything they had done to ruin his life.

  But … he would regret her death.

  Strange. He’d never mourned a mortal death.

  “So you can tell my uncle,” he replied, realizing he hadn’t answered her.

  She turned the tumbler around, her claw rings clinking against the glass. “I didn’t take you for someone who would do something so … foolish.”

  “I doona do anything without purpose.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  He shrugged. “Take it as you want.”

  “You should’ve stayed away. You should’ve run.”

  “I doona run from anything.”

  “You’ve never encountered me.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Desire and Regret

  Devon’s stomach was so wound with knots that she was nauseous. How did spies do it? How did they search someone’s home or office and not break into a sweat or vomit from the fear of being caught?

  It just proved that though she enjoyed a good spy movie, she wasn’t cut out to even think about executing anything they did. Yet here she was, doing exactly that.

  Any moment now, she expected to see Harriet or the security team arrive to escort her off the premises.

  And she hadn’t even done anything yet!

  She swallowed and tried to remember what she did on any given day. Because normal was important. If she could recall what normal was. It was increasingly difficult with her new understanding of what Kyvor really was.

  It was all she could do not to look at the camera on her computer or the one above her.

  She read reports, made notes, and returned calls. Somehow, she managed to sound like her heart wasn’t about to burst in her chest while talking on the phone, which was a feat unto itself. She was rather proud of that accomplishment.

  By the time lunch rolled around, she wanted to bang her head on the desk at how slow the day was crawling by. Stacy still hadn’t gathered all the information on the whisky distilleries. That meant it would be that much longer before Devon could dig into Dreagan.

  “Ugh,” she mumbled.

  Stacy stood at the entrance to her office. “You want to get some lunch?”

  Devon looked up, her brai
n seizing. It wasn’t typical for her and Stacy to eat together, but then again, they had done it in the past. She didn’t know if her assistant was trying to get close to find how if she knew anything or whether Stacy was just being nice.

  By the end of the day, Devon was going to be dead from all the second-guessing and fear spikes. She opened her mouth as she searched for an excuse to bow out when movement through the glass caught her eye.

  “A delivery for Ms. Abrams,” said a young man with too-long hair and a bored expression.

  Stacy accepted the package with a smile before bringing it into the office. “I see you ordered in.”

  The food smelled delicious. Devon only hoped she could eat it. She needed something to fortify her for the remaining hours. But she hadn’t ordered anything. Could this be Kinsey or even Anson? “Yeah.”

  “I’ll see you after lunch, then. The reports should be finished printing by then.”

  She waited until Stacy was gone before taking the food from the bag. It was her favorites from the Chinese restaurant not far from her flat.

  As she reached for the chopsticks, she saw something written on the paper. “We’ve got your back. Be strong.”

  It made her want to smile. She might be by herself inside Kyvor, but she wasn’t alone dealing with all of it. Kinsey, Esther, and Anson were there for her. And that made all the difference.

  She tore the paper on the chopsticks and wadded it up. That simple message comforted her, allowing her to be able to eat. She took a few bites of fried rice before realizing she needed something to take her mind off things.

  With a few clicks of her mouse, she returned to her favorite blog. There was a picture of a woman turned away from a mirror in shame with a sheet covering her body to start off the next post.

  The title was: Giving in to Desire … and the Regret that Follows. It was something Devon was sadly familiar with. She leaned back in her chair and began reading.

  *   *   *

  Dating is hard. I know I say that in almost every post, but it’s the God’s honest truth, people. There is so much pressure!

  A few of the things we have to worry about are:

  1.  Choosing the right outfit. We want something that is sexy without being slutty, something elegant without looking like your grandmum, or something fun without looking like you’re stuck in your teens.

  2.  Witty banter. Conversation can be a killer! Especially when it all seems to fall on you to keep things going. You need to be smart and up on current events or risk coming off looking insipid. Not to mention funny so that he laughs, which means knowing the right kind of jokes. Not everyone will get the sarcastic ones (my personal favs, btw).

  3.  Manners. Really, this comes down to making sure not to wear white. If I wear white, 9 times out of 10, I’m going to be wearing my food before the night’s over. Seriously. I think the cosmos get a good laugh at my expense.

  4.  Your story. This really is to make sure you don’t overshare (side note: I should do a post about this. I have tons of material). Telling everything wrong about your life, your job, your body, your family, or your past relationships is a surefire way to send your date packing.

  Now, do 1-4 while sounding intelligent, clever, and sensible.

  Just look at that list and tell me that isn’t enough to send many of us contentedly into the single corner for a bit longer. I know it does me.

  So, why do I continue to put myself out there? Well, that’s easy. I want to fall in love. I want to meet Mr. Forever, not Mr. Right Now.

  Unfortunately, all I’ve been getting are Mr. Why-Did-I-Agree-To-This-Date or Mr. I-Lied-On-My-Profile.

  There are a lot of those. A lot!

  Let that sink in a moment. Does it make you shudder? Yeah. Me, too.

  So, color me surprised when my date last night wasn’t just handsome but also charming. He put me immediately at ease. There was no lull in the conversation at dinner. He made me laugh and kept me interested.

  In general, I wasn’t struggling to find something to say. It was a fun, fun date! (A first in a while)

  As a plus, he appeared just as engrossed in everything I said. Let me say that this is a huge (HUGE!) plus for me.

  When dinner finished, we had dessert and laughed some more. Then we went for a walk. That might sound boring, but it can be something special between two people who have a spark.

  And there was definitely a spark, people!

  He held my hand and turned the cold night into a very romantic one. I was completely won over. Then he mentioned a second date, and I didn’t hesitate to agree. I hate to admit it’s been over a year and a half since I’ve gone on a second date (let’s not dissect all the reasons that factor into that, please).

  Let’s skip to the end of the date where I was surprised and pleased at the desire I felt. I knew it was wrong, but I gave in anyway. How many times have I slept with a guy after a first date and regretted it?

  Well, lovelies, chalk this one up as a big checkmark in the “I Knew Better” category. The only positive is that I didn’t bring him to my place. We went to his, and the prince turned into a frog in the morning light.

  All the charm and romance I had been treated to during the night evaporated with the dawn. He couldn’t get me out of the flat fast enough. When I asked about our second date—the bitch in me just leapt out!—he pretended as if he didn’t know what I was talking about.

  (I’ll add a bit here—because I know you’re going to ask. The sex was … well, it wasn’t awful. But it wasn’t great either.)

  Just when I thought the dating gods had finally smiled upon me, I was shown more of the hard, ugly truth.

  And to make matters worse, the first people I saw after that horrid experience were my best friend and the love of her life. As if I needed another reminder of what I’m missing—and longing for.

  I hope my embarrassing retelling of this crap-tastic night helps one of you. I’m really considering compiling all of my dating experience into a book.

  More to come on that. In the meantime, good luck out there! Most of us need as many well wishes as we can get.

  *   *   *

  Devon stared at the screen. Was it coincidence that she and this blogger seemed to be on the same date? The only difference was that Anson hadn’t been an ass.

  Detached, yes, but not mean. His concern had been for her safety above all else. Then there was him showing up at Kyvor to try and stop her from entering. If that didn’t tell her that he cared—at least a little—then nothing would.

  She stared out her window overlooking the city for the rest of her lunch. When she looked down at the food, she was surprised that she had nearly finished all of it. And she was in a much better frame of mind when Stacy returned.

  In no time, the documents for all the whisky distilleries they had done work for were on her desk. She ran down the list, not hesitating when she spotted Dreagan’s name.

  One by one, she highlighted the top distilleries with the most brand recognition, Dreagan being one of them. Then she set about doing some research on her computer. Dreagan was the second company she searched.

  None of what she was doing was out of the ordinary, so none of it should raise any red flags. Though everything she did, she did with the knowledge that someone was watching her because she knew about Kinsey and Esther.

  She wanted to pretend that Kyvor was oblivious to who she spoke with, but in this technological age, that was highly doubtful. Not to mention, there were things in the prototype department she wasn’t even aware of that could be used on and against her.

  It made the world a very scary place. At this point, the idea of magic seemed something she’d rather embrace than what actually stared her in the face.

  How many times had she argued with people that technology wasn’t intrusive? The entire time she’d been lying. She hadn’t known it, but that didn’t ease her conscience any.

  Every time she saw Dreagan’s name, she thought
of Anson. She wondered what he was doing. It made her feel good that she would be helping him and the others affected by Kyvor’s actions. She just hoped that, somehow, she made a difference.

  Next came a second round of research that was more in-depth on the companies she’d put asterisks next to. This time, she made it look as if one of the distilleries were of more interest to her than any of the others.

  She spent a good forty-five minutes on that one company before she moved to another. After another thirty minutes, she put in Dreagan.

  As she was about to hit enter, Harriet sauntered into her office. And just like that, her fear returned tenfold.

  “I’m glad to see you looking better,” her boss said as she sat in one of the chairs before the desk.

  Devon leaned back and smiled. She took in the heavily applied makeup, red lips, and perfectly styled blond hair. Her gaze then lowered to Harriet’s red skirt and white shirt with red trim along the collar and cuffs.

  “Me, too,” Devon said. “I think I just needed a bit of a rest.”

  “You’ve been very wound up about the meeting. I know how much is riding on this for you. The Board was very disappointed that we had to reschedule.”

  “I feel awful about having to cancel it.”

  Harriet tsked. “As you should. People made room in their schedules for you. Your name was bandied about quite a bit, but any more such things, and it won’t look favorably upon you.”

  “I overworked myself,” Devon explained, trying to keep her voice calm. Then she thought back to what she would’ve said before Kinsey had come into her life. “My position here is important to me. I put my job before anything else. It was one hiccup that won’t happen again.”

  Harriet tapped her long, fake nails painted a bright red on the arm of the chair. “Women are making a name for themselves in higher positions, but it’s slow progress. If you play your cards right and do what I tell you, you’ll get to the top. After me, of course.”

  “Of course,” Devon replied with a tight smile.

  “Unfortunately, the meeting has been pushed back for another three months.”