Darkest Flame, page 19
part #1 of Dark Kings Series
The quiet of the kitchen was broken by the sound of Aisley pulling out the chair next to Rhi and sitting. Phelan picked up the one she had toppled over and sank into it on Rhi’s other side, his apprehension and annoyance palpable.
“Rhi?” Phelan urged in a tight tone.
She raised her head, and though he had spoken to her, Phelan’s blue-gray eyes were focused on Tristan who walked back into the kitchen with glasses and a decanter. Rhi covered Phelan’s hand and gave it a squeeze until he looked at her. “He doesn’t know you. He remembers nothing.”
“Nothing?” Phelan asked with a deep frown furrowing his forehead. “Does Ian know?”
“No. You’re the first Warrior to see him.”
Tristan set a glass of whisky in front of her, but held onto the decanter. “And he is in the room with you.”
“Aye,” Phelan said and cleared his throat. “When did you arrive at Dreagan?”
“About two years ago.”
Phelan glanced at Aisley. “Are you a … Dragon King?”
“Aye,” Tristan said with a lopsided smile. “The newest.”
“Your color?”
“Amber.”
Rhi watched Phelan squeeze the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “The amber dragon. I’ve seen you fight in the battle with the selmyr.”
“Aye, and I’ve seen you. What of it?” Tristan asked.
“Because you’re tw-”
“That will come later,” Con said over Phelan.
Rhi stiffened as she felt Con’s black gaze. She grabbed the whisky and drained it, hoping it would fortify her for the inevitable battle of words. The bastard had always known how to make her hackles rise.
“Did you find them?” Con inquired.
She nodded. “They’re in Ireland, in an abandoned manor near Cork.”
“Who?” Phelan asked.
Con sighed and leaned his hands on the back of one of the chairs. “Kellan and an American named Denae Lacroix.”
Phelan’s brows lifted. “Kellan? The Kellan I’ve heard so much about? When did he wake?”
“Denae woke him,” Rhi explained. “She worked for MI5, and they sent her on a mission into his cave. To make a long story short, MI5 betrayed her, she killed her partner in a fight, and Con took her as prisoner to find out what MI5 knew.”
Con scraped back the chair on the tile and sat, a dark look directed at her. Rhi rolled her eyes and noticed one of her nails was chipped. Damn. Time for a new manicure and color then.
“Before we could get Denae out of the country with a new name and wipe her memories of us, we were attacked,” Con finished.
Phelan looked from Rhi to Con. “By who?”
“MI5.” Rhi swallowed and lifted her gaze to Phelan. “And Dark Fae.”
Phelan sat back in the chair and scrubbed his hands down his face. “Shite.”
“Did they take Kellan and Denae then?” Aisley asked, a frown marring her forehead.
Con shook his head. “We bested them at the dock, but somehow they followed Kellan to Raasay and snatched them there.”
“Hal and Laith have been filling me in on the Fae,” Tristan said. “I still say we should go after them and get Kellan and Denae.”
Rhi took the bottle of whisky from Tristan’s hand and refilled her glass, trying not to notice how her hand shook. “It will violate the treaty if you do.”
“They took one of us,” Tristan argued.
Con waved the bottle to himself, and Rhi gave it a shove across the table. He rose and found more glasses that he set on the table and then filled, handing each person one.
“It was the Dark Ones who took them,” Con said after he took a drink of his scotch. “The Light rarely pay them any heed.”
“Not true,” Rhi said angrily. “We’ve been fighting them forever, and we will go on fighting them for eternity. It is our way. Just as they’ll never defeat us, we will never defeat them.”
“And if you ever decide to join forces?” Aisley asked.
Rhi looked at Phelan’s pretty wife and shrugged. “It was tried once before. The war with the Kings. That didn’t go so well.”
“Forget about the past,” Con stated. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to help free Denae and Kellan?”
She didn’t want to fight, especially not now when she was so weary. She was too tired to trade barbs with Constantine, but she couldn’t show him any weakness. He would pounce on it, and never let her forget.
“Does your hatred make you blind?” Phelan asked Con. “Can you no’ see she’s exhausted?”
Rhi sat up straighter and forced a bright smile. “I’m fine. I came to report what I’ve found.”
“You told us where they are. Get back there and keep watch,” Con ordered.
It was too much. She’d offered to help because of her love of a Dragon King, but she wasn’t Con’s lackey to be ordered around. Rhi tried to stand, but her legs still refused to hold her. Instead, she threw her glass at him.
He leaned to the side at the last second, and it fell to the floor behind him, the crystal shattering. She couldn’t stop the wrath that filled her—nor did she want to.
“Rhi,” Con said in a soft, quiet voice. “Calm down.”
“Calm down?” she repeated in dismay. “I didn’t have to warn you of approaching danger. I didn’t have to stick around and warn Kellan and Denae the Dark Ones were coming. I didn’t have to follow them into that nasty dwelling. I didn’t have to return here and tell you anything. And each time what do you do? You demand more and order me about!”
Phelan took one of her hands. “Rhi.”
“What?” she yelled and looked at him.
He glanced at the hand he held. “You’re glowing.”
Rhi looked down to see that indeed her skin radiated the bright white light held inside certain Light Fae—a light that could be used to make life … or take it away.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on pushing aside her rage. When Rhi was once more calm, she opened her eyes to find everyone watching her.
“What was that?” Phelan asked.
Con leaned across the table and poured more whisky into a new glass before giving it to Rhi. “It’s something only a few Fae have. Simply put, Rhi could have leveled this manor and everyone inside.”
“Or brought life to a dying realm,” she added with a dark look to Con. Then she looked at Phelan, Aisley, and Tristan. “I let my anger get the better of me. For that, I apologize.”
“No need,” Aisley said with a reassuring smile on her face and in her fawn-colored eyes. “Were you about to talk about Denae and Kellan?”
Rhi sat back in the chair and pushed her long hair over her shoulder. She wanted a shower and new clothes after spending so much time with the Dark Ones. “The Dark are keeping them together. They know they can’t kill Kellan, so their plan is to torture Denae until he talks.”
“He willna do it,” Con said sternly, his eyes full of anger and regret. “He willna betray us, no matter what vow he gave Denae. And that … that will destroy him.”
Rhi nodded in agreement. “Yes. It will.”
“How did you get past all the Dark Fae?” Tristan asked.
She picked at her chipped nail. “I had to stay veiled.”
Con frowned. “Are you telling me you flitted in and out of that place hoping they wouldna see you?”
This she didn’t want to tell him. This was her secret, one no one else knew. If she explained now, Con would always know.
And he would never forget. The bastard had the memory of a damned elephant.
“No,” she said, hoping he would leave it.
She should’ve known better.
“You remained veiled for an extended period?” Con asked in disbelief, his jaw slack.
Rhi shifted in her chair. Damn Con for making her choose between lying and honesty. Of course he would remember how she loathed lying. She had gotten that from her mother’s side, a trait every Fae prayed they didn’t get.
“Rhi,” Con pressed.
It was on the tip of her tongue to lie, but even as she tried, her skin began to burn. She silently cursed the trait and sent Con her worst glower.
He merely lifted a blond brow.
“Yes,” she finally answered and banged her fist once on the table. “Damn you, Con. Why did you have to press?”
Aisley looked across the table to her husband. “Why not just lie?”
“Rhi can no’. No’ without great pain,” Con stated.
Rhi drained her glass and filled it again. “The Dark got into Denae’s mind. She kept talking about her sister, Renee, who drowned, and how everyone always left her. She was sinking into a depression. I tried to help her, but ultimately it was Kellan who pulled her out of it.”
“He did?” Phelan asked with a whistle. “That’s impressive.”
“That’s only part of it.” Rhi looked across the table at Con. “She’s immune to Dark Fae seduction.”
Con’s face went blank for a moment as surprise set in. “How?”
“No’ even the Dark know. They’re as baffled as I am. I’ve never heard of such before.”
Aisley said, “Well, that’s a bit of good news, isn’t it?”
“No,” Con and Rhi said in unison.
Rhi swallowed hard and looked at the table. “Her … aversion … to them has drawn the attention of Taraeth. He considers Denae a challenge, and he won’t rest until she is his.”
“Why did you leave them, then?” Con asked, his words clipped and hard.
Rhi lifted her gaze to him, then her head swung to Phelan. “I came for you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Cork, Ireland
Rhys knew the moment he saw the pub an Doras that it was a pub for the Dark Fae. He and Kiril exchanged glances and crossed the busy street.
The streetlights were bright, the night deep. Music played loudly and the young and beautiful filled the pub. Rhys spotted the large Dark Fae guarding the door.
He stood facing the street, his hands clasped in front of him, his long, silver-streaked black hair pulled back in a braid.
“I’m going to ask him where he got those red contacts,” he heard a young female ask, rushing to the Dark.
“Think he’ll recognize us as Kings?” Kiril asked as both men slowed once they reached the sidewalk.
Rhys shrugged while watching the Dark zero in on the flirty female asking about his supposed contacts. “A possibility. I’ve got an idea, though.”
Kiril raised a brow, but merely smiled when Rhys motioned to the four twentysomething girls standing around a streetlamp. “Oh, I like your thinking.”
As one, the two changed directions and headed to the women. The females saw them approaching, and each stood straighter, pushing out their breasts.
It was really too bad they were on business, because Rhys would like nothing more than to take two of the girls and pleasure away the night.
“Hello,” said a female with deep red hair and sparkling green eyes. She had tried to cover her freckles with a ton of makeup.
Rhys stopped beside her. “I’ve always been partial to redheads, green hair, and freckles.”
“Freckles?” she asked, her eyes glued to him.
Rhys nodded. “Freckles.”
“What are you lasses doing this evening?” Kiril asked as he came up between two of the girls, giving each a wink.
A tall, leggy blonde looked Kiril up and down. “Scotsmen, aye? What would we want with you?”
Rhys laughed and tugged the redhead against him. “After a taste of a Scot, you’ll never look elsewhere again.”
A brunette smiled seductively. “That’s quite a boast.”
“I’m quite a man,” Rhys said. “Why no’ let us buy you lovely lasses a drink and we can … debate … this more.”
“I’m game,” Freckles said.
The others were quick to acquiesce. Even as the six of them made their way to the door of an Doras, Rhys knew there might be a chance he would have to use magic against the Dark Fae guarding it.
But just like any man being ruled by his cock, the Dark barely paid him or Kiril a glance with the four young females around them.
Once inside, Rhys had to fist his hands as he looked around at all the Dark Fae disappearing with the men and women of Cork behind hidden doors in the walls.
Some came out again, their souls all but gone.
Others were never heard from again.
Rhys glanced down at the females around him. There’s no way he could leave them in good conscience. At Kiril’s grim look, he had come to the same conclusion.
“This place isna for you lasses,” Kiril said over the music.
The women immediately took offense, all talking at once. Before Rhys could diffuse the situation, a Dark Fae with short hair and an expensive suit walked up.
“Is there trouble here?” he asked smoothly, eyeing Freckles.
Rhys held Freckles closer to him. “Nay.” The less he said, the more he might get away without the Dark realizing he was Scottish.
The red eyes of the Dark lifted to him. “I was asking the ladies.”
Freckles, as if sensing something was amiss, took the hand of the female closest to her. “Nothing’s wrong. We just wanted to leave.”
“Leave?” the Dark asked, his gaze narrowed on her. “Why would you want to leave?”
“They’ve had a long night,” Rhys said as he stepped between Freckles and the Dark Fae.
Red eyes blazed, completely focused on Rhys. All the while, Kiril was quickly and silently getting the four mortals out of the pub.
“You’re a Scot,” the Dark said, his lips peeled back in displeasure, as if just saying the word was revolting.
“And you’re Irish. I’m so glad we got that settled,” Rhys said with a fake smile. “Now, tell me why all of you are wearing those red contacts.”
It went against every instinct Rhys had not to kill the Dark, but he needed information—information about the Dark Ones, their plans, but more importantly where they might be keeping Kellan and Denae.
The Dark Fae rolled his eyes and turned on his heel to disappear in the crowd.
Kiril slapped him on the back. “Quick thinking.”
“Are the females safe?”
“Aye. They’re also verra afraid. I doona think they’ll come near this place again.”
“Good.” Rhys scanned the bar until he found two stools. “Time to get to work.”
Kiril rubbed his hands together. “With pleasure.”
* * *
Denae couldn’t move. Emil had used his magic to hold her against the wall, the cool, damp stones making her shiver.
There was an unnatural light to his red eyes, one that said it was his time to play—and he was going to take full advantage of it.
She wanted to look at Kellan and see how he’d fared with Taraeth, but she didn’t dare. The second she did could be the second Emil slipped into her mind.
Kellan had told her to stay vigilant, and that’s what she was going to do. No matter how much it killed her to do it.
There was a bellow of rage that erupted from Kellan. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him jump to his feet and lunge for Taraeth, the chain stopping him just short of the Dark leader.
There was a loud snap, and Denae winced because she knew that was Kellan’s shoulder popping out of joint. And still he reached for Taraeth.
She couldn’t see Taraeth’s face, but she supposed it looked similar to Emil’s, which was alight with glee and satisfaction. They thought they had won.
Perhaps they had.
For the moment.
But Denae had no doubt that one day Kellan would get free. When he did, he would leave nothing but destruction and death in his wake.
She didn’t know much about the Dragon King, but she recognized the thread of danger, the layer of dark menace lurking just beneath the warm skin and thick muscle.
A scrap of recklessness he held firmly in check.
Until someone pushed him.
He was absolute power, total dominance.
Utter, breathtaking control.
Even in a rage and bloodied, he was magnificent. At that instant, Denae fully comprehended him as a Dragon King. He was protector, defender, and guardian of the realm.
He was also judge, jury, and executioner of any who dared to harm it.
“You look at me, but you think of him,” Emil said as he leered at her. “I can’t have that.”
Denae swallowed and focused fully on the Fae before her. He was a nuisance, a pest who could do untold damage to her body and mind if she wasn’t careful.
“Are you sure it’s Kellan I’m thinking of?” she asked with a sly look.
Emil’s lips peeled back as he reached for her shirt. In one yank, he ripped her oversized shirt in two, leaving it hanging precariously on her arms.
The only things separating her bare skin from the Fae were her cami and yoga pants. In mere seconds, even those were gone.
Denae was plastered against a wall, bare-assed and unable to defend herself against her would-be attacker. It was humiliating.
And infuriating.
Denae had never felt such rage, such sheer ferocity. It replaced the fear, leaving her cold and calculating. She let her gaze rake over the Dark Fae in contempt.
“How sad. You can’t even make one insignificant human want you in the smallest way. Your two friends witnessed it before. I bet they’re talking about you now. How quickly do rumors spread among your people, I wonder?”
The laughter and desire instantly faded from his eyes, replaced with evil intent. His hand wrapped around her throat and began to squeeze.
Behind them, she caught a glimpse of Taraeth looking over his shoulder. His eyes glowed red right before he bellowed Emil’s name.
“She is mine!” Taraeth shouted.
Emil’s hand dropped and he stepped away from her, but in his gaze, he promised retribution.
If Denae thought she would be released to have control over her own body again, she was dead wrong. With Taraeth’s attention now on her, he faced her and smiled wickedly.
“Ah, but I knew your body would please me, little human.”
Denae might be afraid of Emil, but she was terrified of Taraeth. There was something about the Dark leader that made her want to huddle into a corner and cover her head with her hands.
