Firestorm

by Donna Grant

It felt like ages before Dmitri got close enough for her to reach. She grabbed his arm and pulled with all her might to give him what little strength she could.

  He heaved himself up and onto the ledge, only to roll to his back. Her stomach knotted at the damage the Dark had inflicted.

  She smoothed Dmitri’s hair off his forehead and leaned over him to block the rain from his face. His eyes opened, the corners crinkling as he smiled. She put her hand over his when he touched her cheek.

  His smile vanished, replaced by a frown. “You shouldna be out in this weather.”

  Faith couldn’t help but laugh. Once he’d gotten to his feet, she put his arm around her shoulders and walked him inside the cave to the waiting fire.

  “What happened?” she asked as she stripped off her clothes and laid them around the fire to dry. Then she climbed atop the sleeping bag only to hesitate from touching him.

  “The Dark needed to die.” He closed his eyes and remained still.

  Though she shook from the cold, it didn’t seem to affect him, and she wasn’t sure how the course, wool blanket would feel against his wounds.

  “Of course, they did. But it doesn’t explain what happened,” she said.

  He cracked open one eye and looked at her for a moment before closing it again. “I lured them here to fight them. I couldn’t burn them with dragon fire because it would’ve left evidence. So I opted for another approach. I killed one, but the other used a spell that prevents us from remaining in dragon form.”

  She swallowed. He’d been in the middle of battle, and she hadn’t even known it because she’d been absorbed by unearthing bones. While she’d been brushing away dirt, he’d been fighting evil.

  “I fell into the sea,” Muscles continued. “I started to climb up, but he was already at the entrance of the cave.”

  “It was magic he was throwing, wasn’t it?”

  “Aye. That shite burns.”

  “Will you heal?”

  He nodded slowly. “What did you do to the Fae?”

  “I shoved my trowel into his neck. Please tell me I killed him.”

  “I didna realize you were an archeologist and a warrior,” he said with a grin turning up his lips, though he kept his eyes closed.

  If he could joke, then he would be all right. Most of the tension left her. “I was scared.”

  “But you did it anyway.” His hand covered hers and squeezed. “Come here and warm me.”

  She eyed his wounds. “But you’re not cold. And what of your injuries?”

  “I hurt worse no’ being able to touch you.”

  She didn’t point out that he was holding her hand because she wanted to feel him, as well. Faith let him guide her where he wanted her.

  Her eyes closed when the side of her face rested against his chest. His heat was already seeping into her, warming her. He felt so damn wonderful.

  “You did good,” he whispered.

  She smiled, moved by his praise. “Thank you.”

  “Hmm.”

  With his heartbeat in her ear, her thoughts drifted to seeing him hanging on to the rocks by one hand. Even though she knew he couldn’t die, she’d been terrified that he would.

  She barely knew Muscles, but what she couldn’t deny—especially after what she’d just experienced—was that he mattered to her.

  His masterful lovemaking and the fact that he was a Dragon King aside, she’d taken notice of him immediately. Especially when she hadn’t wanted to.

  Now that she’d felt his touch and had been brought to such heights of pleasure, she wasn’t sure anyone could ever compare to him.

  To make matters worse, she didn’t like even thinking of being with any other man.

  And that drew her up short.

  Her feelings notwithstanding, there was more to this situation than just her. There were Dmitri and the others at Dreagan. She didn’t know how many Kings lived there, and it didn’t matter. They had sacrificed everything already.

  It was time to give them a win. So as much as she wanted to be the one to discover such a find as the dragon, it would remain a secret. Right after she helped Muscles figure out how the dragon had died.

  * * *

  Dmitri didn’t allow himself to sleep even with the two Dark dead. More could come.

  Instead, he allowed his body the time it needed to heal. Oddly, the rain had helped to wash away some of the dark magic from his injuries.

  But he couldn’t heal quickly enough.

  His arm tightened around Faith. She slept once more. He liked how easily she trusted him to keep her safe. What he really enjoyed was her.

  If he could turn off whatever feelings she rallied, he would. She’d been doing fine before she stumbled upon the bones. She had a good career, but the dragon would’ve put her name on the map, so to speak.

  He wished he could give that to her. If he didn’t care about the humans learning about him and the other Kings, he’d give her the skeleton without a second thought.

  She deserved that and so much more. He couldn’t seem to stop extolling her, which was odd since he never did that with humans.

  As the minutes passed, and as he healed, he imagined returning to Dreagan without her. Ryder had let Kinsey go for three years. The King had done it for Kinsey so she could have a life outside of theirs.

  Dmitri could do the same for Faith. All it would take was a call to Guy, who would erase every memory she had of dragons, the Fae, and him. She could go on about her life as if none of this had ever happened. It was probably the right thing to do.

  Why then did he want to howl at the very thought of it?

  An hour later, the last of his injuries had healed. Faith’s leg lifted, brushing his thigh and cock. He hissed in a breath, aching and hard.

  He wanted to roll her over and take her again, to hear her cries of pleasure and see the ecstasy cross her face as she peaked.

  But time was not on their side.

  She drew in a breath and stretched. Her eyes opened and met his. “How do you feel?”

  “Better.”

  She moved the blanket aside and looked for herself. Her head snapped back to him. “You’re healed.”

  “That’s usually what it means when someone says they’re immortal.”

  “Yeah, but.… Wow.”

  He chuckled and gave her a kiss.

  She leaned back and looked at him oddly. “You should be relaxed now that the two Dark Fae are dead, but you aren’t.”

  “Because more will come.”

  “I knew you were going to say that.” She sat up with a sigh, wrapping the blanket around her. “How long do we have?”

  “That I can no’ say.”

  “Then we need to get busy.”

  He rose and walked to the cave opening to get his clothes and dress. When he returned, she had on her jeans and one of his black t-shirts. It looked really good on her.

  “Do you think when this is over, we can do something normal?” she asked.

  Intrigued, he asked, “What do you consider normal?”

  “Oh, is this a typical day for you?”

  He shrugged, nodding. “Unfortunately, it is.”

  “Well, I’m thinking something very mundane. Like going grocery shopping or even weeding my flowerbeds.”

  The image her words projected made him laugh. “That’s definitely mundane.”

  “Exactly!” she said as she ran her fingers through her sandy blond locks. “Sounds exciting, doesn’t it?”

  Her enthusiasm was infectious. “I’m a pretty good cook. I’d choose grocery shopping.”

  “Truly?” She shot him a suspicious look. “I detest meal planning, cooking, and anything to do with buying food. I just want to sit down and eat it. If you take care of the meals, I’ll take care of the weeds.”

  He walked to her and gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Consider it a deal, then.”

  “I think I came out the winner in this,” she said as she gave him a sassy look and turned away.

&nb
sp; Dmitri would have to disagree with her. He was the one who was coming out the winner at finding her. And to think, he was actually looking forward to cooking for her.

  When Faith began working, he lay down beside her and helped. It was a slow process that was as time-consuming as it was monotonous. Dmitri thought he would hate it, but each time more of the bones were revealed, he smiled.

  “You like it,” she said, looking at him sideways.

  He shrugged. “Perhaps.

  “I’ll make an archeologist out of you yet.”

  The idea of being with her on other digs gave him a little thrill.

  But he kept that to himself.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Rhi walked the halls of the Light Castle with her watcher by her side. She ignored the stares coming from everyone, but it was harder to pretend she didn’t hear the whispers.

  “She’s back.”

  “Do you think that means she’ll return to the Queen’s Guard?”

  “Perhaps she knows where the queen is.”

  “Do you think she has information on this Reaper issue?”

  “I wish she’d look my way.”

  “Do you think she’s upset about the queen and King of Kings?”

  “I wish I could be like her.”

  “I hope she stays this time.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to answer all of them, but she kept walking. Her watcher was veiled and silent—as always. If only she could see him.

  She turned down a long corridor and blinked against the sun pouring through the bank of windows on her left side. Her gaze moved to the wall on her right, and the world tumbled to a halt as the room tilted and spun.

  Stumbling, she grabbed the wall as images flashed rapidly through her mind, but they were too quick for her to see any of them clearly.

  However, there was one thing she knew with certainty. She had been in this exact corridor, this exact place with her watcher before.

  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull up any memories of such an occurrence, though. Humans called it déjà vu. Among the Fae, it was proof that magic had been used.

  She felt her watcher close. He didn’t touch her, but he was there, waiting to see if he was needed. She kept her eyes closed and her head down as she wondered what he would do if she had fallen.

  Once the room stopped spinning, she straightened and took a step away from the wall in order to look at it. There was nothing but marble. Why then was she sure that something had been written or drawn there?

  “What did you do to me?” she demanded in a soft voice to her watcher.

  Silence greeted her. Not that she actually expected him to answer, but she wanted him to know that she was going to find out.

  “We were here. In this spot. Together. Why can’t I remember?”

  The thought of having her memories altered enraged her. What had she overheard?

  Or seen?

  Her watcher. She’d seen him. The circumstances and outcome were beyond her now, but that much was obvious. What could’ve happened that he’d shown himself to her?

  Rhi pivoted and continued down the corridor, anger in every step. Her thoughts were firing rapid questions, all of which had no answers. Nor did she imagine that she would find those resolutions anytime soon.

  She came upon three women standing together. One was wiping away tears. Since Rhi didn’t want to be seen, she hurried past them. Only to stop when their conversation reached her ears.

  “It’s so sad,” sniffled one.

  Another nodded. “No one really knows what happened to the Everwood family.”

  The third wiped at her tears. “All of them dead. Some say it was the Reapers.”

  Rhi turned and looked in the spot where she knew her watcher was. Was it coincidence that her memories being changed coincided with the Everwoods dying?

  “How did they die?” Rhi dropped the veil and asked the group.

  All three turned to her, staring wide-eyed when they realized who she was. She sighed, waiting for one of them to answer.

  Finally, it was the one who had been crying who said, “All four of them were killed.”

  Rhi’s mind rebelled at the thought. “Are you sure?”

  “The parents’ bodies were found first.”

  “What about Neve and Atris?” Rhi asked.

  The Fae nodded. “Neve’s body is still missing, but they found Atris outside the castle. Everyone is worried about which family will die next.”

  Rhi whirled around. “No one else is going to die.”

  * * *

  Daire clenched his jaw. How the hell was Rhi piecing together her memories? Nothing should’ve been able to work through Death’s magic.

  But the proof was before him in brilliant, epic display.

  He thought back to that fateful day when the Reapers had had the showdown with Bran. It had been Daire’s job to keep Rhi away, and yet she’d managed to use her magic in a way that shouldn’t have been possible to follow where Neve had been taken by the Reapers’ nemesis, Bran.

  Once there, Daire had made sure to envelop Rhi in his veil so that Bran wouldn’t see her. Everything after that had happened so fast.

  Neve was attacked, Talin and the other Reapers fought the Dark, and before he could blink, Rhi had touched Daire’s face and pushed out of his arms.

  It allowed him to fight alongside the other Reapers while seeing Rhi, in all her radiance, battle the Dark.

  When Bran’s magic began to shatter the world around them, it was Rhi who’d fought back with her magic, creating a vortex. Unfortunately, that maelstrom had been about to pull in their leader, Cael. Until Eoghan pushed him out of the way and was taken instead.

  Rhi was the one who’d healed Cael from a wound inflicted by Bran. Something else she hadn’t known she could do.

  But the worst part came when Rhi had brought Neve and her brother, Atris, to her rooms at the Light Castle. Because Bran had turned Atris to the Dark side.

  To seal it, all Atris had to do was take a life. He did that by killing Neve.

  Rhi hadn’t just seen all of that, she had also seen the Reapers, knew of them. Death’s rules were clear. No Fae could ever learn the truth, lest they be killed.

  Death had knocked Rhi unconscious and removed her memories of the entire disaster.

  For that small fraction of time, Rhi had looked into Daire’s eyes, and he into hers. No longer was he hidden. She had seen him. She had known him.

  Then it was gone. Forgotten.

  It was for the best since it had saved her life. The fact that Death had gone to such extremes for her meant that Death saw something in the future in regards to Rhi.

  If only he knew what it was. There was no doubt that Rhi wasn’t just powerful but also respected among the Light. He saw it in the way they watched her and spoke about her.

  His thoughts had been running wildly as he followed Rhi. He didn’t realize where she had taken them until he stood inside her rooms. Then she whirled around to face him. Though she couldn’t see him because of his veil, she always knew where he was.

  For several tense minutes, she stared in his direction. Then she began to pace. “I don’t take kindly to anyone messing with my memories,” she bit out.

  It caused him to smile. Some might be fearful once they discovered such things. But not Rhi. She was livid at the idea of anyone daring to do that to her.

  “You know, I’ve known from day one that you followed me,” she said, shooting him a look as she continued moving back and forth before him. “I ignored you at first, and then I began talking to you. I thought you were my friend.”

  He was, though he couldn’t tell her that. His orders were simple: watch Rhi without interfering.

  She halted before him. “I’m going to piece together those memories. No matter how long it takes.”

  He didn’t doubt that she could.

  “Whoever you are, stop following me.”

  That he couldn’t do. Besides, he liked being
around Rhi and seeing a part of her life. As long as it didn’t involve Balladyn. That part, he could do without.

  “Do you hear me?” she shouted.

  Since he was standing two feet away, he definitely heard her. But he didn’t drop his veil or talk to her.

  Her nostrils flared in anger. “This is no longer amusing. I don’t care if you’re Light or Dark Fae or another race altogether. You’re no longer welcome around me.”

  She stormed out of her rooms, and he made to follow her. Only he couldn’t get past the doorway. Somehow, she’d managed to prevent him from shadowing her.

  Daire frowned. Though Usaeil as queen had decreed—with magic—that no one could teleport in or out of the castle, a Reaper’s magic trumped even that of a queen of the Light.

  He dropped the veil and thought of the Reapers and found himself standing inside the concrete building on Inchmickery, a tiny isle off the coast of Edinburgh.

  Cael looked up from some papers and frowned. “What’s happened?”

  “Rhi’s memories are returning,” Daire explained.

  Cael set down the papers and walked around the table. “We need to tell Death.”

  No sooner had the words left Cael’s mouth than Death stood before them.

  It wasn’t the grim reaper with a scythe and black robes as the humans thought. Death was a woman, and stunningly beautiful at that.

  Her blue-black hair hung to her waist in soft curls. The front part was pulled away from her face with intricate braids and held together by a spray of petite purple roses.

  Death wore a regal, strapless gown. The top portion was a vivid, deep purple without a single adornment. From the waist down, it was a voluptuous skirt of satin and tulle in solid black with matching purple roses made of material sewn into the skirt in various places.

  Lavender eyes framed by thick, black lashes watched him. Her flawless complexion was the color of soft cream. She had high cheekbones and full lips that he noticed Cael looking at.

  “It must be important for you to call me here,” she said in a soft, ethereal voice to Cael.

  Daire nodded. Even though Death chose Reapers and was judge and jury to the Fae, it was rare for them to see her. Cael was her chosen leader of the Reapers, and the two of them interacted regularly.

  “Tell me,” Erith urged.