Soul Scorched

by Donna Grant

  She was at the middle table working her way back to the front when she noticed the Scottish primrose she had planted from a seed. It had sprouted well enough, but yesterday it began to look as if it was struggling to live.

  Darcy leaned close and cupped her hands around it. She let her magic fill her before she released a small portion of it through her fingers into the plant.

  She didn’t normally use her magic with her plants, but the primrose had been a gift from her sister. It had taken her six years to get up the courage to plant it, and now that she had, she didn’t want it to die.

  As she watched the leaves of the flower begin to brighten, she dropped her hands to her side and straightened. She didn’t need to turn around to know who had come into the area. There was only one person who would dare to intrude upon her privacy.

  “I honestly didn’t expect to see you again.”

  “And I didna expect to see you cheating by using your magic,” came the masculine reply in a deep, soft Scottish accent.

  Darcy turned and faced the man who had first walked into her shop three years earlier. She looked over his long black hair that hung loose about his shoulders to his gold eyes. As usual, he was in a dark suit, the crisp white shirt beneath the jacket left open at the collar.

  Ulrik.

  Her first foray into a world she hadn’t known existed—the Dragon Kings.

  “It’s not cheating. I’m merely helping it along.”

  He raised a black brow. “It must be special for you to use your magic. I’ve never known you to do so before.”

  Darcy looked down at the primrose. She couldn’t wait until it flowered, showcasing the small, bright purple petals. The plant itself would only grow to be a few inches tall at most.

  “It is special.” But she didn’t want to think about why it meant so much to her. Darcy slid her gaze back to Ulrik. “I’m not sure I can unlock any more of your magic. The last time nearly killed me.”

  “I know.” He leaned back against the wall near the door and crossed one ankle over the other. “I’m no’ here for that. I’m here to warn you that you may be targeted soon for helping me.”

  “Why not just call and tell me this?”

  “So you would know how important it is that you keep your guard up.”

  The way Ulrik’s gold eyes went cold told her all that she needed to know. Whoever was after her was dangerous. “How will I know who they are?”

  “You’ll know. They’re too bloody curious as to how I got my magic returned. I’ve been evasive. But … they’ll find out.”

  Darcy gawked at him. “Are you that stupid? They could’ve followed you.”

  Normally, she wasn’t so idiotic as to call someone as powerful as Ulrik stupid, but she was more concerned with her life than his response.

  “They’ll find you one way or another,” Ulrik said, though by his flat look, he wasn’t happy with her choice of words.

  Darcy put a hand to her forehead. She and Ulrik weren’t exactly friends. He had needed something, and she was able to give it to him. In return, he’d paid her handsomely.

  She dropped her hand to her side and studied the Dragon King. “You’re not warning me out of the kindness of your heart. That’s not you.”

  “No,” he said, the barest hint of a smile upon his lips. “I’m warning you because I may need you in the future, and I doona want you harmed. I hope you’ll be smart enough to remain safe.”

  “Who is coming for me?”

  “An enemy.”

  She blinked. The only reason Darcy knew Ulrik’s story was because she had seen his past while delving into his mind to undo what the other Dragon Kings had done to him.

  Ulrik pushed away from the wall. “Close your mouth, Darcy. We all have enemies we’d rather no’ talk about.”

  “I just … I just thought you were going to say the Dragon Kings,” she said and shrugged.

  He blew out a breath, his nostrils flaring. “Who says I’m no’?”

  “You should let your true accent come out more,” she said when he let it slip. “It suits you better than the fake British you use from time to time.”

  He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “My enemies will kill you. They want to ensure I doona get any more of my magic returned.”

  “If your enemy is anything like you, there’s nowhere I can go where I won’t be found.”

  Ulrik stared at her for a moment. “You’re a Druid from the Isle of Skye. You touched upon dragon magic and walked away without it taking your life. If there’s anyone who can get through this, it’s you.” He pivoted to leave.

  “I’ve been dreaming of dragons.”

  Ulrik hesitated. Without turning around he asked, “Any particular color dragon?”

  “Yes,” she said after a brief pause.

  “What color?”

  Darcy hadn’t told Ulrik she had seen his past. She had never mentioned Constantine’s name, nor would she knowing how much Ulrik hated the King of Kings. Ulrik wasn’t a man she would cross. Ever. As long as he needed her, she was useful. So she would remain useful.

  Ulrik turned to her, a frown upon his brow. “Darcy? What color?”

  “It’s not exactly clear.”

  “Is he gold?”

  She gave a shake of her head. “No.”

  “If you see his color, call me immediately.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can tell you who to expect a visit from.”

  With that, he turned on his heel and was gone. Darcy swallowed and leaned a hand on the table. Despite the danger that fairly radiated from Ulrik, she wasn’t scared of him. She had a healthy dose of respect, sure, but perhaps she didn’t fear him because he’d come to her before he had magic.

  She saw the man struggling to deal with the life he had been forced into. When she saw his past the first time, she wanted to get as far from him as she could. Yet, she was intrigued by the world of the Dragon Kings.

  Ulrik eventually told her a little about who and what he was, but he kept most of it to himself. It took her numerous tries before she was able to touch the thick and powerful dragon magic that bound his. At first, each time she came close, she was knocked unconscious.

  She wasn’t the only one affected. By messing with the dragon magic, Ulrik experienced a tremendous amount of pain that left him weak and exposed. He held back as much of the bellows as he could, but eventually, they were released.

  Both of them had seen the other in their weakest times, but she never thought of him as a friend. The fact he visited her after almost three years let her know he was serious about the threat.

  It had been seven long years since she left Skye. Maybe it was time to go back. She had left seeking … something. She hadn’t known what, and she still didn’t. Darcy had had this urging to go, and she’d followed it, fully expecting to find whatever it was that sent her from her home.

  She wasn’t exactly unhappy in Edinburgh. Her clients were many, and she enjoyed what she did. To return to Skye would mean returning to Corann’s fold.

  That she wasn’t ready to do. Then again, she couldn’t remain in Edinburgh. Ulrik was right. She was a Druid. There were few places she could go that his enemies would never find her.

  Skye was one of them.

  CHAPTER

  THREE

  Darcy struggled all day to read palms and tarot as if she didn’t know she was being targeted by someone. Normally, she would see a client’s future laid out before her, but she never told them the truth. No one really wanted to know what awaited them.

  She would give them hints and clues to try and steer a client away from something that could harm them, but ultimately it was up to each person to make their own destiny.

  The code she had been taught on Skye was so deeply entrenched that she didn’t even try to break free. Besides, she understood why that code was in place. To use magic to do harm, bring about death, or otherwise aid evil went against everything a mie was.

  Each Skye Druid
put a spell upon themselves to ensure they would never break the code. If she did, she would no longer be able to use her magic.

  That’s why, when she went the entire day only seeing bits and pieces of her clients’ futures instead of a full picture, she began to freak out.

  Magic was her life. Well, magic and her plants. She had done nothing to go against the code. Of that she was sure. The only explanation was she was beyond stressed after Ulrik’s appearance that morning combined with the dreams of dragons.

  She closed up the shop at eleven in the evening and began the short walk home. The streets were abnormally empty. Every sound had her jumping. She had her magic at the ready, prepared to use it at any second.

  Her hand shook when she reached her building and she tried to get the key in the lock. She finally gave up and unlocked it with magic.

  Darcy hurried inside and then up to her flat to shut and lock the door behind her. With a wave of her hand she turned on all the lights in the flat. Only when she was sure that she was alone did she step away from the door.

  * * *

  Warrick let the Dark Fae fall to the ground, his gaze on the third floor windows of Darcy Allen’s flat. The silly female hadn’t even realized she was being followed—not just by him, but a Dark as well.

  He was able to grab the Dark before the Fae could get to her. Thankfully, there was just the one, and Warrick had the element of surprise against the Dark.

  But there would be more.

  When Warrick found the palm reading store at noon, he kept an eye on who entered and who left. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred.

  Even though Ryder had sent a picture of the Druid to his phone, Warrick hadn’t expected to feel such a shock at the pretty mortal with curly auburn hair and long, lean legs.

  Warrick dragged the Dark into an obscured alley. It would be so easy to dispose of the Fae with a burst of his dragon fire, but he couldn’t chance shifting in the middle of the city. Besides, he wouldn’t fit between the two buildings.

  He stared down at the Dark and grimaced. His mobile phone vibrated in his pocket. Warrick took it out and saw it was Kiril calling. He answered curtly.

  “I’ll be damned,” Kiril said. “I just lost a hundred quid because you answered.”

  In the background, Warrick heard Rhys laughing. Warrick sighed heavily. “If you didna want me to answer, then you shouldna have called.”

  “True.” There was a smile in Kiril’s voice. “How is it going? Have you seen the Druid?”

  “Aye. And I’ve killed a Dark that was after her.”

  “Shite.” The laughter was gone. Kiril was all business as he asked, “Do you need any help?”

  Warrick looked at the body. “I doona want to leave the Druid in case more Dark show up, but I need to get rid of the one I’ve killed.”

  “I’ll be there shortly.”

  The call ended. Warrick returned the mobile to his pocket and looked back to the windows of Darcy’s house. Once the Kings following Ulrik had discovered who it was he visited, Ryder had all of the Druid’s information pulled up on the screens at Dreagan.

  Ryder had sent everything to Warrick’s phone as he drove to Edinburgh. Warrick had glanced at her photo on his phone, but the image he’d formed from that and the woman who walked out of the shop tonight weren’t one and the same.

  He climbed a fire escape ladder to the top of the building across the street and set up watch. From his vantage point he would be able to see anyone coming for her. The only blind spot he had was the back of her building. This was supposed to be a one-man job, but it had just turned into a two-man watch, minimum.

  Warrick worked better alone. Not because he didn’t like others. He just had a difficult time around anyone else. But he wouldn’t put the life of the female in jeopardy simply because he didn’t want others around. He pulled out his phone and dialed Con.

  The King of Kings answered on the second ring. “How are things?”

  There was no hello, no pleasantries. Just the way Warrick liked it. “No’ good.”

  “Meaning?” Con asked, a note of worry deepening his voice.

  “I’m no’ the only one watching the Druid. There was a Dark who came after her. He was too intent on her to realize I was there.”

  There was a pause. “Was it a random Dark?”

  “In Edinburgh? Nay. Perhaps Ulrik sent him.”

  “Perhaps.” Con sighed through the phone. “I’m going to have to send someone to join you.”

  “It’s why I called.”

  “Look for Thorn in a few hours. I doona want to bring more Kings there since it might alert Ulrik. It willna take him long to realize you’re there.”

  Warrick watched as Darcy’s lights went out. All except for one. He saw her silhouette walk across the window. “If he doesna already.”

  “If the Dark are after her, there will be more.”

  “I’m ready for them.”

  Con chuckled. “Of course.”

  The line went dead. Warrick returned his mobile to his pocket as he scanned the area for anyone who might be a threat to Darcy—Dark and human alike.

  Ulrik hadn’t just aligned with the Dark Fae. He also had MI5 on his side, or at least a small portion of them. The Kings also had an ally in MI5. Henry North. The spy, along with others in the organization, were trying to break the allegiance between the group and Ulrik. So far it hadn’t gone so well. Henry had also been working at Dreagan tracking the movements of Dark around the world.

  It was worrying the Kings that the Dark were being so blatant about showing themselves. As if they wanted the Kings to know what they were doing. Since the Dark Fae were never to venture onto UK soil once they signed the treaty after the Fae Wars. Something had certainly changed, and Warrick felt as if he were struggling to catch up. Which wasn’t a good sign.

  Warrick didn’t remain on the rooftop. He jumped from structure to structure, working his way around Darcy’s building several times. The night was quiet, too quiet.

  By the time Warrick made his way back to the alley on his tenth trip, Kiril and Rhys were there. Rhys stood next to Kiril who kneeled beside the Dark.

  Both wore only jeans, meaning they had gotten to one of the stashes around Edinburgh set up by the Kings after flying from Dreagan. Every city in the UK had such a supply.

  “Do you recognize him?” Rhys asked Kiril.

  Warrick watched Kiril. After Kiril spent months in Ireland spying on the Dark, no one would know them better than him—except of course his mate, Shara.

  “Nay,” Kiril said as he stood. He lifted his shamrock green eyes to Warrick. “Is he the only one you’ve seen?”

  Warrick couldn’t help but turn and look at Darcy’s window again. She took down her hair, the length dropping down her back before she pulled off her shirt.

  He looked back to Kiril and Rhys. “He’s the only one. I’ve found no other sign of anyone else.”

  “Interesting,” Rhys said, a knowing smile lifting half of his mouth.

  Kiril held out his hand and a blast of magic shot from him, freezing the Dark into one big icicle. Rhys then knelt and slammed his fist into the ice, shattering it—along with the Dark—into thousands of tiny pieces that evaporated.

  “Like he was never here,” Kiril said while dusting off his hands.

  Rhys got to his feet and nodded. “That was fun. I could kill Dark Fae all night.”

  “Ah, but you didna kill him,” Kiril pointed out. “Warrick did.”

  Warrick rolled his eyes. Those two were always joking with each other, their banter that of close friends. He didn’t understand it since he’d never had anything like it.

  “Smile, War, you might like it,” Rhys teased.

  Warrick gave him a flat stare. He hated the nickname Rhys had given him centuries ago. “I do smile.”

  Kiril laughed, and then hastily cleared his throat. “It’s just no’ often. It’s more of a rare event.”

  “Like Halley’s Comet,” Rhys quipped.<
br />
  Warrick simply stared at Rhys who had a wide smile on his face. After all Rhys had recently endured, Warrick wasn’t about to say anything. It was good to see Rhys smiling and laughing again, when a few weeks earlier, he was so troubled he disappeared, not even answering Kiril’s calls.

  Kiril slapped Rhys on the back. “I think we ought to leave before Warrick does you bodily harm.”

  “Wait,” Warrick said. “Thorn will be here shortly. Until he does, I could use help keeping an eye on the Druid.”

  Rhys’s smile vanished as he exchanged a look with Kiril.

  Warrick inhaled deeply, waiting on their reply. Was it so odd for him to ask for help that it left them speechless? Well, now that he considered it, he had never asked for help.

  He wouldn’t now except that the Dark came out of nowhere. He didn’t know why the Fae targeted Darcy, and until he did, he would feel better if there were more eyes on her.

  “Of course,” Kiril said. “Where would you like us to set up?”

  Warrick faced the building, his gaze locking on the window again. “The back. I can no’ see the back.”

  “I’ll take the back,” Kiril said and walked away.

  Warrick felt Rhys’s aqua eyes on him. He faced the King of the Yellows. “Have I actually made you mute?”

  Rhys snorted. “I’m trying to figure out if it’s the fact the Druid was able to release some of Ulrik’s magic or the woman herself that has you acting so … strangely.”

  “Con may have only asked me to watch the Druid, but she’s done what no others have. She has enough magic to undo our magic. Dragon magic is the most powerful on this realm. How was she able to do it?”

  “I’ve a feeling you’re going to get to find out.”

  “No’ me. I’m the one sent in to keep watch and protect. I’m no’ the one Con sends to befriend someone. That’s for those like you and Kiril.”

  Rhys glanced at the sky and the few clouds that drifted past. “You may be just the right person this time, War.”

  “She knows of us because of her association with Ulrik. It doesna matter how much or how little he told her. He’ll color his words to reflect himself in a positive light. She willna want anything to do with any of us.”