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Firestorm: Volume 2

Page 4

by Donna Grant


  It was the sound of several pairs of boots approaching that caught his attention. He looked into the window’s reflection and caught sight of Mikkel along with four Dark making their way to the throne room.

  He turned and quickly hurried to the room by a back hallway, reaching it before Mikkel. He entered to find Taraeth finishing off a human female.

  The king of the Dark patted the woman’s now pallid face and said, “Thank you, dear. You were delicious.”

  Taraeth rose and zipped his pants one-handed as two guards collected the now dead human and left the room. Balladyn noticed that Taraeth continued to reach for his missing left arm.

  “A new shipment has come in if you wish to sample them,” Taraeth said.

  Balladyn inclined his head. “Thank you, sire.”

  There was a knock at the double doors before they opened and Mikkel strode inside and greeted Taraeth with a bright smile.

  “I didn’t expect a visit,” Taraeth said and motioned for his guest to take a seat.

  “I didn’t expect to make a trip, but something has come up.” Mikkel’s gaze stopped on Balladyn, his annoyance visible.

  Balladyn remained by the throne as Taraeth poured two drinks and walked to Mikkel, handing him a glass.

  “Do tell,” the king urged.

  Mikkel nodded at Balladyn. “Perhaps this is better done in private.”

  “I trust Balladyn above all others. He’ll be the one carrying out my orders. He stays,” Taraeth stated.

  From the beginning, Balladyn hadn’t liked Mikkel. It wasn’t that he particularly had an affection for Ulrik either, being that he was a Dragon King, but Balladyn had already chosen to side with Ulrik when the time came for battle.

  Because it was coming. Ulrik would fight Con for the right to rule the Kings. Taraeth had promised both Mikkel and Ulrik that he would help.

  Taraeth didn’t care who fought Con, as long as Con was killed. But Balladyn knew the only one who had a chance of taking down the King of Kings was Ulrik.

  Yet Taraeth had already hinted at siding with Mikkel when the time came. Taraeth wouldn’t make such a claim unless he knew Mikkel had an advantage. Either way, Balladyn wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

  Maybe it was because he believed Rhi hadn’t betrayed him all those years ago.

  Perhaps it was because Ulrik was the rightful King of Silvers.

  Or it could be because Balladyn’s love for Rhi was changing him.

  Whatever the reason, he’d decided to back Ulrik. That meant he might have to take out Taraeth sooner than he’d anticipated. Not that it mattered. It was time the Dark had a new leader.

  He’d kill Taraeth today if he could, but he was waiting to convince Rhi to come back to the palace with him. With her by his side, the brightest of the Light, they could unite their race once more.

  It had come to him as she lay spent in his arms on her beach. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. It was the perfect plan.

  Once united, no one could stand against the Fae. Not even the Dragon Kings.

  Mikkel tossed back the whisky. “If Ulrik comes to you, trap him.”

  Taraeth raised a brow. “Why would I do that?”

  “He’s betrayed me.”

  “You mean the way you were going to betray him?” Balladyn asked.

  Mikkel shot him a hard look, his gold eyes cold. “I saw him shift in Paris.”

  “Ah,” Taraeth said, nodding slowly. “So the prodigal dragon has all of his magic once more.”

  “He’s had it,” Mikkel said through clenched teeth. “He lied to me.”

  Taraeth raised a black and silver brow. “Lying is part of who we are. You’re not angry because Ulrik lied to you. You’re pissed because you didn’t see it.”

  Balladyn inwardly smiled as Mikkel seethed.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Mikkel stated as a vein bulged in his temple. “Right now, he has more power than me.”

  “He is the King of Silvers,” Balladyn said.

  Taraeth glanced his way. “Balladyn’s right.”

  “Not for long,” Mikkel announced with a gleam in his gold eyes.

  “Why is that?” Balladyn asked.

  “I’ve someone that is going to give me the upper hand with Ulrik. And Con.”

  At this news, the first thing Balladyn wanted to do was go to Rhi and tell her. Then he paused. She might want to help the Kings, but he didn’t.

  Nor would he.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Desire still burned fervently, feverishly. Dmitri reached for Faith upon opening his eyes—only to find the spot empty. He sat up, searching for her. The worry faded as he spotted her wrapped in the blanket, standing before the dragon skeleton.

  He got to his feet and went to her. Her gaze was riveted to the bones. He tucked a thick strand of sandy blond hair behind her ear. “What is it?”

  “You said all the dragons were called to leave.”

  “They were.”

  “Why did this one not go?”

  He turned his head to the remains of one of his Whites. “I’m hoping to find out. As King of the Whites, I was—still am—responsible for every last one of them. I need to know if I failed.”

  “He could’ve already been dead,” she said, looking at Dmitri.

  He shook his head. “As a precaution, every King returned to their lands to find the dead.”

  “To destroy them,” she said with a nod.

  He didn’t like the feelings plaguing him. The fact that he might have forsaken one of his dragons weighed heavily upon him. “We couldna leave any evidence behind to be found by the mortals. I searched every cave on all the isles.”

  “The answers lie with the bones. The sooner I uncover the full skeleton, the sooner we can determine how he died.”

  When he looked at her, he found her smile wide, the certainty in her sherry eyes absolute. And it soothed him. “And if I failed one of my own?”

  “We’ll deal with that when the time comes,” she stated. Then she turned and hurried back to the fire and their clothes where she dropped the blanket.

  He took in her naked body, a smile forming as he recalled having her in his arms. He wanted her again.

  As if sensing his gaze, she looked over her shoulder at him and winked before wiggling her ass. It made him chuckle. He walked to her, slapping one plump butt cheek as she bent to check on her jeans and see if they were dry.

  He couldn’t help wondering what it was that kept him going to the Fae for sex. Then he realized it was because he hadn’t met Faith yet.

  They had rested long enough that the fire was able to dry her sweater, but the jeans would take much longer. Dmitri squatted and rummaged through his bag. He tossed her a pair of lounge pants that she had to roll up several times just to keep on.

  He quickly dressed before they returned to the skeleton. Since she’d left her tools, they had something to work with. So while she sorted everything, he turned on the lights closest to them.

  In moments, she was focused on the bones once more. He watched her for long minutes. He found it amazing how she dedicated herself to uncovering the past.

  He’d feared that she was one of those wanting to expose the dragons, when in fact, it was her love of history and the past that drove her.

  She wouldn’t have cared if it were a dragon skeleton or a centuries-old chest. She was more concerned with discovering the secrets of the past.

  The way she gently and lovingly—and gradually—exposed the bones was a painstaking process that she seemed to get the utmost enjoyment from.

  He used his magic to keep the fire going before he went to the cave’s entrance to have a look around. The storm still raged as the sea churned angrily.

  It was only a matter of time before the Dark came calling, and he was going to be prepared. If luck were on his side, he’d have the answers to the dragon’s death, the bones and any evidence of dragons obliterated, and Faith, along with her entire team, safely away from
Fair.

  As much as he hoped for such an outcome, he was pragmatic. Once the tempest passed, Tamir would return. Which would bring the Dark.

  He looked up at the thick clouds. The storm seemed to hover above them, giving them another few hours to work. Dawn was approaching, not that the sun could be seen through the dense cloud cover.

  Apprehension perched contentedly upon his shoulders. No matter what they eventually uncovered about the death of the dragon, the simple fact was that Dmitri had let one of his own down.

  Now he had Faith, her team, and the occupants of Fair Isle to protect. He couldn’t fail them.

  Briefly, he considered calling for Rhi. The Light Fae was usually eager to help the Kings, but he hesitated. Rhi remaining around the Kings only prolonged the ache within her heart.

  It wasn’t fair to do that to her. Perhaps if the Kings didn’t turn to her so often, she might be able to put the past behind her and forget the love she’d once had with her King.

  Having another King there would greatly increase Dmitri’s chances of winning against the Dark. But it would also increase the probability of someone seeing something.

  There was no easy way to fix the problem. Either he brought in help and risked exposure, or he dealt with everyone and everything on his own.

  He put his hand on the side of the cave opening and let his palm soak in the dampness of the rock smoothed by centuries of exposure to wind, water, and sun.

  This was his homeland. The place he had been born. The place where he had learned to fly and hone his magic. It was the place where he had become King.

  He’d defended these isles for thousands of years on his own. He could—and would—do so again.

  It wasn’t until he reached for his mobile phone that he realized it had been lost somewhere in the sea below when he’d shifted to save Faith.

  He opened the mental link and said, “Con.”

  After a minute or so, Con answered. “Is it done?”

  “No’ exactly.”

  “Meaning?”

  He heard the concern in Con’s voice. The same worry he had. “Things have . . . it’s complicated.”

  Con sighed heavily. “Please tell me you didna sleep with the woman.”

  That was none of Con’s business, regardless if he was King of Kings or not. “The Dark pushed Dr. Reynolds off the cliff in order to see if a Dragon King was here.”

  “I gather you saved her.”

  “Of course.”

  “Is it too much to ask that you did it in human form?”

  Dmitri looked at the cliffs. “A wee bit, aye.”

  “Damn. So she saw you?”

  “That she did. I managed to make the Dark forget that he saw me, but he’ll be back. One of the Dark has killed a member of Dr. Reynolds’ team.”

  Con let loose a string of curses. “Just destroy the skeleton. I’ll send Guy to erase everyone’s memories.”

  “Nay.”

  There was a long pause before Con asked, “Excuse me?”

  Dmitri knew he was pushing boundaries, but when it came to Fair Isle, he was in charge. “I have to know how the dragon died. I searched every one of these caves, Con. They were all empty when I returned to Dreagan.”

  “You can no’ blame yourself for this dragon being left behind.”

  “But I do. I’m responsible. Before you ask, Faith knows about us. She’s working to help me discover how the dragon died.”

  “Then will you destroy the bones?”

  He was about to consent when he thought of another way. “No one will find the bones.”

  “Just what I wanted to hear. Now, about Dr. Reynolds . . .”

  “I’ll no’ be discussing her yet.”

  “Dmitri—”

  “I know what you’ll say. I’ve heard you voice it to many of us. Let me have this time to figure things out.”

  Con released a long breath. “Then I’ll give you the time.”

  “I know why you doona like any of us to find mates. Matter of fact, I agree with you.”

  “But?”

  “There is no but. I’m merely pointing out a fact.”

  “Do you need help there?”

  Dmitri looked out into the driving rain, watching the wind move it one way and then another. “I can handle it.”

  “Good luck, old friend.”

  The link was severed. Dmitri didn’t want to interrupt Faith as she worked. Besides, she might try to stop him from finding the Dark. He removed his clothes and piled them together. Then he walked onto the ledge and jumped.

  He shifted, his wings spread wide as he angled himself upward to soar through the clouds. To be able to return to his true form twice in such a short period of time felt amazing. Since his brethren couldn’t do the same, he would keep it to himself.

  The Dark needed to be taken care of. The quicker he could be rid of them, the better. With his dragon eyes searching for the scum, he flew from the cliffs to the village.

  He found the first Fae standing over a prone woman. Dmitri didn’t need to check her pulse to know that she was dead. He could see it in her blank eyes that stared upward.

  Rage filled him at the loss of life, he flew low enough for the Fae to hear him. He circled back around, and just as he’d hoped, the Dark teleported away.

  There was no need to find the second one. They would be coming to him.

  Within moments, he was back at the cliffs. He saw the two Dark appear in the spot where Faith had been pushed. He could still hear her scream on the wind, still see the fear reflected in her eyes.

  The thunder masked the sound of his wings while the wind and rain hid him from view. Fire licked at his throat, itching to be released and turn the Dark to ash, but that would leave evidence for the mortals.

  Dmitri wasn’t deterred, though. He tucked his wings and dove from the clouds, his eye on one of the Fae. The Dark turned just before Dmitri reached him.

  He opened his jaws and clamped his teeth around the Fae. The Dark screamed in pain and tried to gather enough magic to use. Dmitri didn’t give him the chance. He grasped the Dark and yanked, tearing the Fae in half.

  With a roar, he dipped a wing and turned back for the second Fae. Only to be hit with a blast of magic.

  It burned through him like acid, seizing his muscles—and returned him to human form. Then he was falling through the air, tumbling this way and that. He hit the water with a bone-jarring thud that knocked the breath from him.

  The violent sea tossed him about while the currents grabbed hold and attempted to pull him under. Since the Dark had used a spell to ensure that it would be hours before Dmitri could shift back into a dragon, he would have to fight the fucker in his present state. Which only infuriated him.

  Dmitri immediately thought of Faith. She was in the cave alone with no one to protect her. He renewed his efforts and kicked and fought his way to the surface.

  A second later, he was slammed against the rocks. He caught hold and clung even as the shards sliced open his arm and his entire right side, only to have the injuries heal instantly.

  With his teeth gritted, he pulled himself from the water and began the climb up the cliff. Dmitri chanced a look upward to find the Dark standing on the ledge outside the cave with a smile on his face.

  It was all the warning he had before the Dark began throwing bubbles of magic his way. The iridescent orbs packed a wallop.

  The evil within the magic penetrated Dmitri’s skin and sank through muscle and into bone. There was no dodging the magic in his present condition. All he could do was hope the Dark had poor aim.

  The storm helped to shield Dmitri from several of the magical orbs, but not all. And the more that landed on him, the more difficult it became to climb—or even hang on.

  Chapter Eighteen

  If evil were a spirit, it just raked ghostly claws down Faith’s spine. She stilled and looked up from the bones to listen. At first, all she could perceive was the thunder and rain. Then she heard it.

 
; A sinister, menacing laugh that made her skin crawl with fright. Evil was in the cave. But where was Dmitri?

  She set down the brush and grabbed the trowel with a shaking hand. It was the only weapon she had, but it was better than nothing. If evil had come, she was going to meet it head-on.

  Slowly, she got to her feet and searched the area for some sign of Muscles. When she didn’t find him, she hesitantly made her way toward the entrance.

  Her heart knocked against her ribs, and her legs trembled, threatening to buckle with every step. The closer she got to the cave opening, the louder the laughter—and the more certain she was that she wanted to run the opposite way.

  Yet she kept going. She wasn’t sure why. Some unfamiliar and unknown force guided her. She didn’t need to see the intruder to know it was a Dark Fae. The evil that permeated the very air told her that.

  It was only a matter of time before the Dark would turn and see her. Then, according to Dmitri, she’d been unable to withstand the lure of the Fae and succumb to his advances, only to die in the end.

  That’s not how she wanted to go out.

  She refused for that to be how she left this world.

  Faith raised her chin even as her knees knocked together. She gripped the trowel tighter and rounded the corner. That’s when she got her first look at the Dark.

  He had his back to her as he stood on the ledge and looked down. His short, black hair was flattened to his head because of the rain, but there was no denying the streaks of silver running through it.

  Something had his attention, causing him to howl with laughter as a sphere formed in his hands. She crept closer and saw what looked like bowling ball-sized bubbles that he threw down the cliff.

  After one such toss, he flung back his head and cackled with joy. “Not long now, you fekking dragon!”

  Dragon? Her heart literally stopped at the Irish accent. That was Muscles out there.

  A calm suddenly overtook her. She stalked to the Dark and lifted her hand over her head before plunging the trowel into the back of the Fae’s neck, severing his spine.

  He jerkingly turned around, his eyes meeting hers a split second before he fell over the side of the cliff, trying to reach the trowel. She didn’t know if a Fae could be killed. For all she knew, she’d only managed to wound the Dark, and he’d return for her.

 

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