by Donna Grant
No sooner had the words left her mouth than she heard a deep, guttural growl come from Anson. Her head jerked his way. When she saw the four men with varying lengths of black and silver hair, she jumped to her feet.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as she hastily backed away until the cage stopped her progress. The Dark had their red gazes locked on a spot in the shadows.
Lights suddenly flicked on, bathing the vast area in bright light. For the first time, she got to see where they were being held.
It was as large as the warehouse with soaring ceilings that could easily fit a dragon inside. Dread filled her. There was nothing Upton had that could be worth Anson subjecting himself to whatever awaited them. He should leave while he could.
Anson was on his feet, slowly stalking to the Dark. He leaned to the side as one of those iridescent balls formed by the Fae was thrown at him.
He easily dodged it, as well as the second one. It was the third that made contact and grazed off his hip. Devon gasped when she saw how his jeans burned away in a blink.
It wasn’t until he went down on one knee and turned that she saw the hip—and the scorched flesh. The realization that the Dark were throwing magic at him hit her with the force of a sonic boom.
Though it must be agonizing, Anson fought as if he didn’t feel it. Or the second orb that slammed into his left shoulder.
All she could do was watch the fight unfold before her. Her gaze was locked on Anson as he moved elegantly and lethally, dodging and blocking the orbs.
When he reached the first of them, he bared his teeth and punched through the Fae’s chest to yank out the Dark’s heart.
And it was all she could do not to clap and cheer him on.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Wrath. It consumed Anson. It blurred the agony of the Dark magic as the orbs found their marks. It focused him on the ones he could kill.
Even as he slew first one and then a second Dark, he was cognizant of Devon. She had made nary a sound, but he felt her gaze on him.
Hers, however, wasn’t the only one he felt. Others watched him. Upton and his cronies. That only increased Anson’s anger. Because of Upton’s need to see with his own eyes what a Dragon King could do, he’d put Devon in the line of fire.
And that couldn’t be forgiven.
Anson released the rage he’d been holding back on the last two Fae. Within seconds, he stood over four dead Dark, his body covered in their blood and burns from their magic.
He fought to stay on his feet even as the last bit of Fae magic twisted its way through his back and into his spine. Tilting his head to look through the locks of hair that had fallen over his face, Anson glanced in Devon’s direction.
Her eyes were wide with shock, the devastation of what she’d just witnessed visible by her pale features. First she’d seen him in his true form, then she’d witnessed him in battle. This was who he was. He wanted her to accept him—but he wouldn’t push her.
There was a click, and the door opened. Anson’s gaze locked on Upton as a feral need rose within him to end the mortal’s life in the most gruesome way possible.
Stanley began to clap slowly. “Very good. My friend mentioned the skills of the Dragon Kings when it came to battle.”
“So you wanted to observe it yourself,” Anson said.
Upton grinned. “Precisely.”
“Come here,” Anson beckoned. “I’ll show you firsthand.”
The bastard didn’t move, but Anson got some enjoyment out of Upton’s nervous laugh that followed.
“Now,” Stanley said after he’d cleared his throat. “After that little display, I’m sure you need recovery time.”
Anson didn’t bother to reply. Let the idiot come to his own conclusions. Apparently, Ulrik—or someone pretending to be him—was imparting all kinds of knowledge regarding the Kings.
Anson kept thinking about the man he’d seen in London that looked so much like Ulrik. Stanley had said it wasn’t Ulrik helping him, but that didn’t mean Ulrik wasn’t involved in some way. And that disappointed him greatly.
“I’m also sure you realize by now that you can’t escape,” Upton said with a bright smile. “That is the work of our Druid. She’s quite spectacular.”
“Bring her in. I’d like to meet her,” Anson insisted.
Stanley wiggled his index finger back and forth. “You’ll meet her soon enough. Until then, get used to your accommodations. You and Devon will be here for a long while yet.”
“What?” Devon cried out.
With that bit conveyed, Upton walked out the door. Moments later, the lights turned off except for the one over Devon’s cell and the path from the door to Devon.
Anson walked to the nearest wall and leaned back against it before sliding to the floor. He watched Devon walk the confines of her prison with her arms crossed over her chest and her head down.
His decision to remain had been a hasty one. Mainly because he thought he could best whatever was thrown at him, stop Kyvor, and keep Devon safe.
It was his pride that had allowed him to believe that. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Fighting the Dark had made it clear how easily they could’ve gone after Devon while he was in battle.
He wasn’t concerned about the Druid. She might be powerful, but there had yet to be one who was stronger than even a Fae. The real issue was what the Druid could do to Devon.
That’s what stopped him cold.
He recalled the vow he’d made to protect the mortals when they appeared on Earth. If he continued on this course, he would be breaking that oath because he’d be putting Devon in danger.
“Con,” he said, using their mental link.
The King of Kings answered immediately. “I’m here.”
“Have Kinsey and Ryder located where we’re being held?”
“You’re about an hour outside of London beneath a large complex of buildings.”
Anson sighed. “That explains a lot.”
“Ryder is still digging through all the paperwork to see who the building belongs to. There really isna a need. I know it’s Ulrik.”
“About that. We might no’ be quite right.”
“What do you mean? Of course, it’s Ulrik.”
The bite in Con’s words didn’t bother Anson. “Upton came in earlier to talk to Devon. He brought up the fact that a Dragon King was helping him.”
“Your point?” Con asked tersely.
“My point is that this doesna sound like something Ulrik would do. Can you no’ admit that it seems odd that he would start doing that now while handing over every detail about the Dragon Kings to humans?”
“You believe that despite thousands of years of having his magic bound and being banished from Dreagan, that Ulrik is still the same King that he was?”
Anson hesitated only because he heard the doubt in Con’s words. “I do. This doesna make sense. Then there is the man I saw outside of Kyvor. Ryder spotted him on CCTV. It was Ulrik, but different.”
“Are you telling me that you think someone is impersonating Ulrik?”
“It’s a possibility.”
Con was silent for so long that Anson began to worry he’d severed the link. Then Con released a frustrated breath. “Need I remind you of the Kings who have spoken to Ulrik? How about the talk, and subsequent clash, I had with him in Edinburgh no’ that long ago? Then there are the mates he’s attempted to kill, have killed, or turn to his side.”
“I’m no’ saying Ulrik isna doing those things. I’m saying he may no’ be involved in this.”
“The only way we’ll know that is if you can confront him.”
Anson closed his eyes. “I was easily able to crack the magic protecting Upton. Same with the magic around the building.”
“That’s good. What’s the problem, then? Because I can hear it in your voice.”
“I just fought four Dark.”
“That should make you feel better,” Con said with a chuckle.
Anson lifted his lids to see
that Devon had resumed her position on the narrow cot. “It did. For a moment. Then I realized they’ll soon allow the Dark to go after Devon. I’ll no’ be able to keep up this guise of being held if that happens. I’ll gladly face whatever the Dark, Upton, Ulrik, or the Druid throws my way.”
“But no’ with Devon there,” Con concluded.
Anson glanced at his healing hip and shifted position to alleviate the pain in his back while it mended. “Aye. She’s … special to me.”
“I can be there shortly.”
“I know that’s a lie. Ryder didna tell me everything, but I know there is shite going on that you need to remain at Dreagan for.”
“There’s quite a bit. I’ve called a meeting. You need to be here.”
That wasn’t going to happen. “Fill me in later.”
“You can no’ do anything alone. All you have are mortals with you.”
He wasn’t telling Anson anything he didn’t already know. “Bring Kinsey and Esther home. Have Henry remain behind because I’m going to need help getting Devon away.”
“Anson—” Con began.
“Upton has to die. So does the Druid.”
“Agreed. Though the Druids on Skye and at MacLeod Castle willna approve.”
Anson fisted his hands as longing to go to Devon filled him. “That matters no’ to me, and it shouldna matter to you.”
“It should, and it does. We need allies.”
“We doona. We can end this current war in less than thirty minutes. We just have to stop hiding.”
Con let out a slow breath. “Whether you believe it or no’, I’ve looked at that option from every angle. It wouldna be wise.”
“If we continue to hide, we continue to lose in this war. You continue to lose against Ulrik. We have the strongest magic, the most power. This realm is ours. The others are here only because we allow it.”
“So you want to kick them out?”
“I want to stop hiding. I want to stand up against anyone who comes against us without worry if the humans see what we are. I’ve long come to terms with the fact that our dragons will never return. I’m talking about our lives, Con. Our future. Have we no’ suffered enough?”
Con’s voice was barely a whisper when he said, “Entirely too long.”
“Get Kinsey and Esther away immediately. Ryder should have his mate with him, and Henry deserves to have his sister protected under our roof.”
“I’ll see it done.”
The link was severed. Anson wasn’t sure anything had been accomplished by his plea to Con about letting the humans know about them. But why fight the inevitable?
If they showed the world, then it would be one less thing Ulrik and the Dark could hold over them. Which was a positive in his book.
Now he just had to figure out a way to get Devon out. The best way would be for him to do it, but he needed to be the diversion that allowed her to escape.
There was a shimmer in the air to his left. Anson watched as it morphed into the outline of a person that soon became a female.
He saw the silhouette of her hair, but couldn’t discern the color. The only thing he could tell about her was that she was tall and slender.
“And here you are,” she said.
Anson was intrigued by the American accent tinged with Irish—and the fact that he could see through her. “Have I finally been blessed with the presence of the infamous Druid I keep hearing about?”
Her lips lifted in a smile, but there was no mirth there. “You think you know much about Druids.”
“Because I do.”
“You don’t know me,” she stated.
There was something in her voice that demanded he recognize the truth of her statement. Anson got to his feet and came to stand before her, hoping that would allow him to see her face. “And you doona know me.”
“I know you, Anson. I know all the Dragon Kings.”
“Because Ulrik told you?” he asked with a snort.
There was a small frown before she shrugged and said, “Sure.”
He didn’t miss that she hadn’t agreed or disagreed. “So I gather you and Ulrik are close? He has a habit of using Druids.”
“For someone you banished, you know a lot about him.”
“He was my friend.”
“Was. That’s the key word in that sentence.”
Anson narrowed his gaze on her. “What is it you want, Druid?”
“You’ve been testing the strength of my magic.”
“As you’ve been challenging mine by having me put here.”
She dropped her arms and glanced over her shoulder at the cage and Devon, who stared at them in confusion. “If you want her to remain alive without her mind being altered, you’ll stop trying to crack through my magic.”
Trying? He’d succeeded. Yet it was the Druid’s arrogance that worried him. No one with that kind of attitude got it by chance. She knew how powerful she was, and she wasn’t afraid to go up against a Dragon King.
“Let her go, and I’ll do whatever you want,” Anson said.
The Druid shook her head slowly. “It doesn’t work that way. I make the rules. You follow.”
“Well, let’s be clear. It doesna really work that way either, does it? You’re no’ making any rules. You’re following them.”
She took a step closer to him. “Push me again, and I’ll kill her with a thought.”
“You’re no’ the first drough to think they had the power to take over the world.”
“I think nothing, Dragon King. I know.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MacLeod Castle
Would there ever be a time when there wasn’t a war? Rhi was beginning to think that there were forces at work creating such dissension.
Thank goodness the Druids of MacLeod Castle were going to help. Rhi was relieved they were going to help her with discovering how Druids and Fae had worked together. It bothered her that such an occurrence had happened without any sort of ripple to alert anyone. Or perhaps, someone did know.
Usaeil.
She thought of the queen, distaste filling her mouth. There was no use seeking out Usaeil because she wouldn’t give Rhi any information. With the queen’s current mood, she wouldn’t likely talk to anyone.
If only Usaeil would act like the queen she should be, perhaps none of this would be happening.
“Rhi.”
She blinked and looked into the turquoise eyes of Marcail. The Druid was married to the youngest MacLeod brother, Quinn. “What is it?”
“We’ve been calling your name,” Marcail said with a frown.
Rhi looked at the other Druids, all of whom stared at her. She leaned back in the chair and quickly put a smile in place. “Sorry, chicas. I was wondering how a Light and Dark combined their magic with Druids’ and no one knew.”
“That’s troubled me, as well,” Gwynn said.
Gwynn was descended from a long line of Druids from the Isle of Eigg. Every Druid at the castle was powerful in her own right, but none—not even Aisley, who was a Phoenix—could compare to Isla.
Isla sat on Rhi’s right, staring at the globe that hovered in the center of their group. Each of the Druids and Warriors had taken a closer look and inspected the wooden dragon, but none had any answers.
After battling mighty droughs such as Deirdre, Declan, and Jason, the occupants of the castle weren’t leaving anything to chance.
The Warriors weren’t far from their women. Ramsey had taken half the Druids around MacLeod land to fortify the spells that kept the castle hidden and unwanted visitors away.
Isla’s ice blue gaze suddenly turned to Rhi. “What haven’t you told us?”
Damn. Rhi hadn’t wanted to mention anything about the Druid working with Ulrik just yet. Was it the Ancients that had let Isla know? It really didn’t matter now. It was time for the truth to come out.
“I know some of you spoke with Darcy after Ulrik used her to unbind some of his magic,” Rhi said. “It seems Ulrik sought out
Druids for more than helping him regain his power.”
Laura’s brows furrowed, her moss green eyes locked on Rhi. “What exactly?”
“He looked for the most powerful of you.”
Tara laughed dryly. “That’s not possible. Otherwise, he’d have gotten to Deirdre before she died.”
Rhi inwardly winced, thankful that Ulrik and Deirdre hadn’t teamed up. “This is very recent.”
“Just tell us,” Aisley demanded.
Rhi looked down at her nails. The glittery plum shade—Muir Muir On The Wall—accented with an opaque crème—Be There in a Prosecco—in a swirling design was one of her favorites. “This Druid was able to get into the minds of two women with magic, controlling them. She did it to get more information about the Dragon Kings.”
“Like Deirdre controlled Isla’s mind?” Marcail asked.
Rhi lifted her eyes to Isla. “Did you lose time? Not remember doing things?”
Isla crossed one leg over the other. “Yes. But I don’t think Deirdre had control of my mind. She was able to manipulate my body and shut down my mind.”
“Which is more powerful?” Laura asked.
Rhi snorted. “Either. Both.”
“The mind,” Aisley stated.
All eyes turned to her, waiting for her to elaborate.
Aisley shifted in her chair. “If this Druid can get into a person’s mind, who’s to say she can’t access their memories, as well?”
“Bloody hell,” Rhi said as she got to her feet and paced. “The Druid locked Kinsey away deep in her mind. It was Tristan … um, Duncan, I mean, who was able to use his dragon power and call to her.”
Rhi winced as she looked at Isla and Marcail, both ladies having known Tristan when he was still Duncan, twin to the Warrior, Ian—before Duncan had been killed and somehow transformed into a Dragon King. Rhi always forgot that little tidbit until it was too late.
“Thank God for Tristan,” Laura said. “Otherwise, Kinsey might be lost forever.”
Rhi stopped and looked out one of the windows of the castle. “It would’ve hit Dreagan even harder. She’s Ryder’s mate, but they’ve not done the ceremony yet.”
“Leaving her mortal,” Marcail said with a nod.
