Dark Alpha's Caress

by Donna Grant

  She fell back onto her butt and slapped her hand on the ground beside her. How could this be happening? She knew better than to rush through terrain she didn’t know, but to do it at twilight during a storm? It was a rookie mistake that she shouldn’t have made.

  Lightning flashed again, revealing the outline of a man about twenty meters below her. He stood as still as a statue as he faced her. She jumped for a second time, unsure what to do. Was it one of the men from the rally? Someone else?

  The man moved slowly toward her before he stopped again. Another flash of lightning revealed his very tall silhouette and incredibly broad shoulders and thick arms showcased by his wet tee shirt that was now molded to his body. She couldn’t see much of his face other than a strong jawline and penetrating eyes.

  “You seem to be in need of assistance,” he said.

  She heard the Irish accent in his deep voice. He purposefully kept his distance so as not to scare her. The next flash of lightning had him looking up at the storm above them.

  “I think we’d best get out of this weather, don’t you?” he asked as he offered her his hand.

  There was no way she could get down to her car without help. She had no choice but to trust him. “Yes,” she said and took his proffered palm.

  He easily lifted her into his arms, cradling her against him. Sorcha felt the movement of his muscles beneath her hands as she wrapped them around his neck. There was no denying the hard stomach against her. Or the softness of the long hair he had gathered at the back of his neck.

  There was something about a man with long hair that just did it for her. Few could really pull it off, but she gave credit to those who tried.

  Within moments, they were at the bottom of the mountain not far from where she’d hidden her car. She glanced back at the rugged terrain, trying to figure out how he’d come down it so quickly. Had she been so wrapped up in all the hard sinew against her that she hadn’t paid attention? There was no other explanation.

  “Where shall I take you?”

  Her head snapped toward his. That’s when she realized that she was very near his face. Unfortunately, she still couldn’t get a good look at him. “Oh. Um…my car is parked over there,” she said, pointing in the general direction.

  He said nothing else as he strode to her vehicle. Once there, he gently set her down until she leaned against the car with her injured foot lifted.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He gave a nod. “You should be careful. These are dangerous times, and there are many more dangers out there.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was threatening her or warning her, not that it mattered. She was well aware of what was out there. Sorcha pulled the key fob from her pants’ pocket and unlocked the vehicle. “You’re very right.” She opened the car door. “Thank you a—”

  But when she glanced up, he was gone. Sorcha didn’t look for him. Instead, she got into the car and locked the doors before starting the engine.

  Chapter Two

  Cathal hadn’t moved from his spot near the Halfling, but he was veiled. Which meant that no one but another Reaper—or Death herself—could see him. The last thing he’d expected to see that night was a Halfling on the cliffs listening to a bunch of Druids talk about creating an offshoot group of Others.

  After everything the Dragon Kings had gone through to end the Others, it boggled his mind that Druids and Fae now wanted to create their own groups. The only difference was, the Druids didn’t stand a chance.

  Cathal watched as the car carrying the Halfling drove away. There had been no mistaking her Scottish accent. That only added to his confusion as to why she had been out here tonight. And not just for a walk. She had scaled the side of the cliff to listen to the Druids.

  He’d kept one eye on the assembled group, and another on her in case she fell. But the Halfling had been more than competent—even in the storm. Everything would’ve been fine had she been more careful on her way down the mountain. She had been in too much of a hurry, though, and it’d caused her to hurt an ankle.

  Before he knew it, he’d lowered his veil and spoken with her. He still wasn’t sure what had come over him. Maybe it was because there had been no one else to help her—and she’d definitely needed assistance. No matter how curious he was to know her intentions, he hadn’t asked. She wouldn’t have told him anything anyway.

  The air shifted slightly, and Rordan appeared beside him. He was smiling, which made Cathal roll his eyes.

  “You didn’t think I’d see you helping the Halfling, did you?” Rordan asked cheerfully.

  Cathal shot him a flat look. “Wipe that smile off your face before I do it for you.”

  In the next instant, Aisling joined them. “Listen to him, Rordan,” she advised.

  “You two are no fun,” Rordan replied with a frown.

  Aisling cut her eyes to Cathal and simply stared. She had red eyes, just as he did, marking them both as Dark Fae. Or at least they had been Dark at one time. Being a Reaper meant that whatever happened before you died, no longer mattered once you were reborn to serve Death.

  “Why did you help her? She’s a Halfling. She would’ve been just fine on her own,” Aisling said.

  Cathal felt the gaze of both Reapers on him. He shrugged. “I…don’t know.”

  “It’s not like you’re going to see her again, so it doesn’t matter.”

  Rordan smiled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “He helped the Halfling because he likes her.”

  It took a great deal of effort not to punch Rordan, but Cathal managed to keep his hands to himself. Rordan’s comments were rarely directed at him. Clearly, he wasn’t so lucky this night.

  “What?” Rordan said with a chuckle as Aisling speared him with a flat look. “When have you ever seen Cathal help a Halfling? Like I’m just supposed to let that go without comment?” He rolled his silver eyes. “Puh-lease.”

  Aisling shook her head of long, black and silver braids but didn’t reply.

  Cathal watched until the car’s taillights were out of view. The Halfling had been wary of him, which was smart. The fact that she’d been there secretly intrigued him. He’d wanted to ask her what she was about, but she would’ve likely made up some lie. And he couldn’t stand to hear that, no matter the reason.

  Regardless of how he looked at it, he couldn’t figure out why a Halfling was there. Unless she was spying on someone in the group. That made him pause. She didn’t appear as if she were following a specific person. In fact, she’d seemed intrigued by everyone and everything. That brought him back to why she had been on the mountain to begin with.

  A Scotswoman, at that.

  Rordan said, “Looks like we have a lot to report. Shall we head back?”

  “You two go ahead,” Cathal said. “I’ve got something to do first.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Cathal knew Rordan would comment on them. He pointed a finger at his friend and shook his head. “Not a word. Not one single bloody word.”

  Rordan slapped his hands against his thighs. “You’re no fun. No fun at all.”

  “I know that look,” Aisling told Cathal. “You’re going to follow the Halfling. Why?”

  He shrugged. “Something doesn’t add up with her being here.”

  “What does it matter what a Halfling does?” Aisling said dismissively.

  “Unless the Fae Others recruited her and sent her,” Rordan stated.

  Cathal hadn’t thought of that. He ran a hand down his face, wiping away the rain. None of them cared about the storm. “She was nervous.”

  “I would be as well out in a storm like this on a cliff.” Aisling shrugged. “Then again, I wouldn’t have been that stupid to get into such a predicament.”

  Rordan twisted his lips. “Unless she had no choice.”

  Damn. The more they spoke, the more Cathal had to know what was going on with the Halfling. He wanted to let it go. He wished he could. But he couldn’t. Something about her affected him. Maybe it was the
fact that she didn’t appear to know she was a Halfling. It could be because she had been soaked, scared, and entirely at the mercy of the elements. Perhaps it was because she’d put on a brave face, even though he’d seen her vulnerability despite it.

  Aisling sighed loudly. “Fine. Let’s go after her.”

  “What?” Cathal asked in surprise as he looked at both of them. “No. There’s no need. I’ll go alone.”

  Rordan slapped him on the back. “Sorry, big guy. Death sent us here together. We’re going to return together. If that means we take a little detour, then we go as a team.”

  “He’s right,” Aisling said before Cathal could speak.

  Cathal knew better than to argue with them. Neither would relent. It was better to just agree and allow them to accompany him. The quicker he figured out what the Halfling was doing, the sooner they could return to Death and relay what the Druids were planning.

  As if the Reapers didn’t have enough shite to deal with. First, the Fae forming their own group, and now the Druids. What was wrong with everyone? The Dragon Kings had annihilated the Others, and the Others were the only ones who had a fighting chance of actually killing the Kings. There was no way any random group of Fae or Druids would even come close to doing harm to the Dragon Kings.

  Unless they weren’t after the Kings.

  “If that frown gets any deeper, we can call it the Grand Canyon,” Rordan said.

  Cathal glanced at him to find the Reaper’s silver eyes on him. He blinked. “What?”

  “You’re frowning,” Aisling told him. “And it’s a whopper.”

  Cathal released a long breath. “I don’t like what I’m thinking.”

  “Let’s ease all of our minds and find the Halfling. I’m not at all happy that she was here.” Aisling raised her black brows. “And I heard her. She’s Scottish.”

  “Fek me. Really?” Rordan asked in disbelief.

  Cathal didn’t say another word as he focused on thoughts of the Halfling. He remained veiled and teleported to the next village to see if she’d arrived. This was the closest town to the meeting place of the Druids, but there were three others she could’ve gone to.

  “It’s too close,” Aisling said as she and Rordan appeared next to Cathal. “She was there to spy. No way would she dare to stay here and take the chance of someone spotting her or her vehicle.”

  Rordan’s silver eyes were narrowed as he scanned the streets. “Two of the Druids from the meeting are here.”

  “There are three other villages. Let’s split up and look for her,” Cathal told them.

  Aisling nodded. “I’ll check Moyarget.”

  “I’ve got Ballyvoy,” Rordan said.

  In the next blink, they were gone. Cathal then teleported to Capecastle. Within seconds of his arrival, he spotted the Halfling’s vehicle heading through the village. She parked in front of a bed and breakfast and got out to limp to the door. He remained outside, watching the building.

  His gaze moved to a window that lit up from within. He couldn’t see movement inside the room, but he had a suspicion that it was the Halfling. As he thought of ways to get inside the B&B, the front door opened, and the Halfling limped out, now wearing dry clothes.

  Cathal debated whether to approach her, but as he saw her gaze scanning the streets, he thought better of it. Instead, he remained veiled and walked a few paces behind her. If someone were after her, they wouldn’t get past him. Not until he had his answers, at least.

  The storm was headed toward them, but the Halfling didn’t seem to care. She took her time getting to the pub because of her injured ankle. Once inside the establishment, she went to a back corner and slid into a booth. At that moment, Rordan and Aisling appeared beside him, both veiled. They waited until some people walking near them had passed before they spoke.

  “I would’ve chosen this village, as well,” Aisling said. “She’s smart.”

  Rordan watched her. “I’ve seen my fair share of Halflings. Some know their ancestry, and others don’t. I can’t tell which side she falls on.”

  Neither could Cathal. Maybe that’s what intrigued him. It couldn’t be her oval face, high cheekbones, full lips, emerald green eyes, or her auburn hair. It certainly wasn’t her soft body that he’d held in his arms.

  He swallowed and found his friends looking at him. “What?”

  “Oh, you like her,” Rordan said with a grin.

  Aisling’s red lips curved into a smile. “I’m in agreement with Rordan. I think you’ve got the hots for the Halfling.”

  Cathal shrugged away their words. It wouldn’t do any good to dissuade them from their thoughts, so he didn’t bother. “I’m going to talk to her.”

  “Whoa. Hold up there, big guy,” Rordan said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’ll find it suspicious if you suddenly show up here after helping her out.”

  Aisling wrinkled her nose. “He’s right.”

  “Standing out here isn’t doing any good,” Cathal stated, not bothering to hide his irritation.

  Aisling stared at the Halfling through the pub windows. “It doesn’t take a lot to notice that she’s on edge and guarded. If there’s any chance of us getting information from her, it won’t be tonight.”

  “Then when?” Cathal asked.

  Rordan glanced at them. “We follow her wherever she goes. That’ll give us answers.”

  Before Cathal could say how much he didn’t like that response, Aisling said, “That’s too much time. I agree with Cathal. Something’s not quite right here, but the others are waiting on us to return and give a report on what we found tonight.”

  “She’s part of it,” Cathal said.

  “Probably, but that’s for Death to decide,” Aisling told him.

  He knew it. Though he wanted to stay and talk to the Halfling, that wasn’t going to happen. “Let’s go.”

  The three teleported to the small isle in the middle of a loch in Scotland where a hidden Fae doorway stood. They stepped through it and onto Death’s realm. It had only recently been opened to the Reapers, and it was nice to have a place to call home once more.

  Cathal should feel good now that Usaeil was officially dead, and the Others were no more, but he couldn’t quite manage it. Not when there were other groups ready and willing to join together for a similar cause. If it hadn’t been for Dubhan and Kyra, Cathal wouldn’t have discovered just how many Fae had been vying to get into the Others.

  That group was now on Death’s and the Reapers’ radar—and Cathal had a bad feeling about them. On top of all of that, they still hadn’t found Xaneth. The longer the Light Fae remained missing, the more Cathal feared he was dead.

  Following Aisling and Rordan, Cathal barely paid any attention to the numerous plants and animals that inhabited the area around the entrance to the realm. He looked up to the white tower that rose above everything. It was Death’s home. But Erith no longer resided there alone. She and Cael were now mated. They were a good team, their love making them even stronger together.

  Cael had once led the first group of Reapers. He’d been powerful in his own right, but when all the Reapers went up against an old enemy of Erith’s, Cael had been caught in the crossfire. Instead of dying, Cael actually acquired additional powers. In fact, he was now a god. Fitting since Death was a goddess.

  The moment the three of them walked into the tower, Death appeared with Cael by her side. Erith’s long, blue-black hair was pulled over one shoulder, and her lavender eyes were locked on Cathal. He wasn’t surprised. There were few things she didn’t know.

  “Well?” Cael asked them.

  Cathal remained silent as Aisling and Rordan gave the detailed report of everything that had happened, including him talking to the Halfling. Not once did Erith’s gaze leave his.

  “And?” Death asked.

  Cathal shrugged. “I have nothing to add.”

  Erith quirked a black brow. “You followed her because you had a gut feeling.”

  “I did. Som
ething wasn’t right. It was as Aisling and Rordan said. She’s Scottish and a Halfling. And she was there to spy. I thought it odd and wanted to know who she was spying for.”

  Cael crossed his arms over his chest. “I would’ve done the same.”

  “Me, as well,” Eoghan said as he walked into the tower.

  Cathal turned his head to the leader of their group of Reapers. Eoghan had been one of the original Reapers before he was promoted to lead his own group and found a way to unite those under him. Each group had seven Reapers, including the leader. They were a ragtag bunch with issues a mile-long. It spoke to Eoghan’s strength of will and determination that he had found a way to reach each of them so they worked as a fluid team.

  “There’s something about the Halfling,” Aisling said into the silence. “I can’t pinpoint it, but she’s different. Aloof and cautious.”

  Erith nodded as she looked at Aisling. “Like someone who is used to spying?”

  “Like someone who is doing it because they must,” Cathal replied.

  Aisling glanced at him before she nodded. “Exactly.”

  “I second both of them,” Rordan said.

  Eoghan considered that for a moment. His quicksilver eyes studied each of them. “Do you think she knows she’s a Halfling?”

  “Debatable,” Rordan answered. “None of us could decide one way or another.”

  Death drew in a breath and released it. “Only one way to find out.”

  Cathal held his breath, hoping that Erith would send him after the Halfling. He didn’t understand his need to go, only knew that he had to. And if he weren’t sent, he’d find a way to go anyway.

  “Aisling, you and Cathal will find the Halfling. If she’s working with the Fae, I want to know,” Erith ordered.

  Cathal released a breath and tried not to let it show that he was pleased with his new mission. But he was ready to go now. Waiting around made him anxious, something he wasn’t used to feeling. He shifted uncomfortably, noting how Eoghan watched him closely.

  “And me?” Rordan asked.

  Erith’s gaze dropped to the floor for a heartbeat. “You will join the other Reapers in looking for Xaneth.”