Blaze

by Donna Grant

  Balladyn’s red eyes narrowed as he dropped his arms and took a menacing step closer. “When this plan of yours takes a nosedive, and it will, I’m going to be the one to take your life.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “You hide down here in your laboratory and miss what’s going on out in our world. You don’t know the alliances our king has made or his plans.”

  Amdir waved away such words. “I don’t care about any of that.”

  “You should. Your actions today have disrupted things.”

  “Good!” Amdir shouted. “I see Mikkel strutting around here as if he owns us. He needs to remember who we are.”

  Balladyn gave a bark of laughter. “Mikkel needs us. As long as he does, we get information.”

  “Not the kind we need.” Amdir pointed to Anson. “What we need comes from a Dragon King.”

  “You’re thick,” Balladyn said and jabbed his finger against his temple. “Did you miss the part where we had Kellan? There are only two Kings who have the location of the weapon—Kellan and Constantine.”

  Amdir was smiling the entire time Balladyn spoke.

  The Dark made a face and scowled. “What the fuck are you grinning about?”

  “I didn’t sit down here in my lab all these decades for nothing. I’ve been planning this for a long time. It didn’t matter what Dragon King I captured. Any of them would do,” he said, hardly able to hide his glee.

  A muscle jumped in Balladyn’s jaw. “Why?”

  “Con knows what I can do to his Kings. He knows the longer one of them is tortured, the quicker they’ll lose their minds.”

  “It took centuries last time to make them go mad.”

  “I won’t have to do a thing,” Amdir said, gloating.

  Balladyn looked at Anson’s unconscious form. “Because you think Con won’t allow another of his Kings to go insane.”

  “Precisely. He’ll give me whatever I want in exchange for Anson.”

  “So you’re going to hand Anson over to Con?”

  Amdir laughed. “Never. The Kings are so much fun to play with.”

  “You’re deranged if you think that will actually work.”

  He shrugged, uncaring if Balladyn agreed with the plan or not.

  “Mikkel is going to want Anson.”

  Amdir turned his back to Balladyn and walked to his desk. “Someone should just kill him already. He had a few seconds of being a Dragon King. Now, he’s nothing.”

  Anson came awake with a jolt, but he kept perfectly still. The floor he was lying on was cold and damp. He could hear water dripping somewhere behind him.

  And there were two Dark in the room with him. One had just spoken. What had been said?

  “He had a few seconds of being a Dragon King. Now, he’s nothing.”

  Who the hell were they talking about? The youngest King was Tristan, but he was still a Dragon King. So who could this Dark be referring to?

  “You push Taraeth into a corner, and our king will feed you to Mikkel.”

  Anson knew that voice. He’d heard it before. Months ago. Faces of Dark Fae scrolled through his head as he replayed the voice again and again until it came to him: Balladyn.

  Somehow, Anson wasn’t surprised to find him involved. But who was the other prick?

  “We’ll see about that,” said the other Dark, the same one Anson had fought in the warehouse.

  He didn’t need to open his eyes to know he’d been taken to the Dark Palace, but Anson did enjoy hearing two such prominent Fae bickering.

  It was evident in their words laced with such hatred and animosity, that the two would gladly kill each other if they could.

  All of which was good to know, but there was something else Anson wanted above everything—Devon. Did the Dark have her? Was she safe? Hurt? No matter how he strained, he couldn’t hear her.

  He hoped they’d only taken him, but the odds weren’t in his favor. Why would a Dark leave behind something that could force him to comply with whatever they wanted?

  “Mikkel will be here soon,” Balladyn said. “I suggest you be ready for a summons from Taraeth.”

  Mikkel? Who was that? Anson filed that name away for later as the conversation continued.

  “I’m always ready.”

  Balladyn made a sound in the back of his throat. “Right.”

  “And Ulrik?” the Dark asked.

  “What of him?”

  “Will he be dropping by, as well?”

  There was a moment of silence before Balladyn replied, “I’m not his keeper. Be warned, Amdir. You’re walking on thin ice.”

  Amdir. At least now Anson knew the bastard’s name. He’d also learned that it wasn’t odd for Ulrik to be at the palace. Amdir implying that Ulrik and Balladyn were working together was interesting.

  It seemed the only one who should have a connection to Ulrik was Taraeth. Not that it really mattered. It was bad enough that a Dragon King—even a banished one—had stooped so low as to align with the Dark.

  “Get out,” Amdir stated.

  Balladyn tsked. “Did I make you angry?” he asked, a smile in his voice.

  Could Anson get lucky enough for the two to begin fighting?

  “Tell me, Balladyn, have you found that pretty Light Fae you kidnapped? What was her name? Oh, yes. Rhi. Taraeth is still upset about you losing such a gem. And you’ve not found her in all this time.”

  The sound of boot heels grew closer, and a moment later, so did Balladyn’s voice. “Trying to move the focus away from your fekking disaster proves how unworthy you are. Take responsibility.”

  “Have you?”

  “I have. Yours, however, is coming shortly.”

  There was the briefest moment of hesitation. “Taraeth is pleased with my acquisition.”

  Anson heard the question within the statement. Amdir was suddenly nervous. Why? Hadn’t they always intended to capture him? If not … then what had been the plan?

  Something was definitely off. He might’ve found out more had he not been knocked out. He frowned as he recalled the feeling of that magic. It had been Dark, but there was something else in it, as well.

  It took a moment before he figured it out. It was Druid magic. The combination had held a powerful punch that Anson hadn’t expected—and never wanted to feel again.

  “We’ll see,” Balladyn answered Amdir.

  The sound of retreating steps alerted Anson that he was now alone with Amdir. At least now he knew what to expect when he fought the Dark again, but it was only a matter of time before he and Amdir clashed once more.

  The wounds from the Dark magic were now healed. But that was the least of his worries. The sensation of metal against his wrists was a bad sign.

  A small test of the manacles revealed that they were practically dripping with Dark magic. It wouldn’t be easy to break through them, but Anson would do it.

  Then he would find Devon.

  His thoughts halted when Amdir drew near and squatted beside him. The Dark shoved at his shoulder, but Anson didn’t so much as twitch.

  “Can’t take your magic, can you?” Amdir asked with a laugh. “The mighty Dragon Kings aren’t so impressive, after all. And here I thought you might give me a challenge. I have to admit, I’m disappointed.”

  It was all Anson could do not to groan. Amdir was one of those who liked to talk to himself. That, combined with his huge ego, was enough to make anyone cringe.

  “You’re going to be my greatest achievement. Do you know that?” Amdir asked. “As soon as Con finds out I have you, he’ll turn over the weapon in exchange for you.”

  If that’s what Amdir thought, then clearly he didn’t know Con. Anson kept that to himself, however. Let the Dark discover that on his own.

  Though only Con and Kellan knew what the weapon was—or where it was hidden—every Dragon King knew that for it to be handed over to the Dark meant the destruction of the Kings.

  And Con would never let that happen.

  Neither
would Anson.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Worried. That’s what Devon was. She tried to hide it, but she couldn’t.

  “Where is he? Where’s Anson?” she asked Con for the umpteenth time.

  Finally, he stopped just as they entered a room where several women and one man stood together. Con turned and said, “Knowing willna help.”

  “Because I can’t get to him, I know,” she replied with a nod. “But I need to have the location.”

  Con drew in a breath and slowly released it. He’d been kind to her in the little time she’d been with him, but he was aloof, detached.

  Not in a cold, unfriendly way. Instead, she attributed it to being the man—dragon—who shouldered everything. Mentally, he was in the thick of things, but emotionally, he was distant.

  She suspected if she were in his position, she’d be the same. In order to make proper decisions, one had to remove emotion, and that was a near impossible task. Though it seemed Con had mastered it.

  “The Dark took him. I suspect to their palace in Ireland.”

  She’d known that was a possibility, but to hear it fall form Con’s lips was like being run over by a speeding train. “What will they do to him?”

  “Nothing he can no’ handle.”

  “I saw his wounds,” she said, her mind flashing back to the horrible sight. “It looked agonizing.”

  Con turned her to face him. He bent his head to look at her. “I’ll no’ lie to you. What Dark magic does is painful. Terribly so. But it willna kill us.”

  “It weakened him.”

  “That it’ll do. Killing him is another matter entirely.”

  She glanced at the group, who were now looking her way. “I know only a Dragon King can kill him, but suffering through such agony can’t be good for anyone’s mind. Not even beings such as yourselves.”

  “It isna.” Con’s face hardened. Then he turned to the group. “Devon, these are the Druids from MacLeod Castle.”

  In moments, she was surrounded. The one male took her hand and shook it with a smile. “I’m Ramsey. I doona know how much you know about us, but I’m part Druid, part Warrior.”

  “A badass,” said a woman with wavy, light brown hair and a soft Scottish accent. She then looped an arm around Ramsey. “I’m Tara.”

  “My wife,” Ramsey said with such devotion shining in his gaze that when he looked at Tara, Devon felt as if she were intruding.

  Another woman with silvery blond hair smiled and held out her hand. “Don’t mind them. I’m Danielle, though everyone calls me Dani. It’s lovely to meet you. I just hate that it has to be under such circumstances.”

  “Yes,” Devon said. She was never going to remember everyone’s name. Each one introduced themselves to her, and she said their names after, logging their accents, but her mind was too focused on everything that had happened and finding Anson.

  The last to introduce herself was a petite woman with ice blue eyes and black hair. “Hello, Devon. I’m Isla. We’re here to help.”

  “Um … I should probably tell you that I just learned about Dragon Kings, Fae, and Druids a short time ago. And the Warriors about five minutes ago,” she told them.

  It was the redhead—Sonya—who replied in a Scottish accent, “Take your time. We’ll answer any questions you have. Please know that we’ve knocked out all the magic from the other Druid.”

  The other Druid. Devon looked around her, searching for Con. She feared he would leave to get Anson without her, and to be honest, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to venture into a place full of Dark Fae. They scared the shit out of her.

  “Con is talking to Fallon and the other Warriors,” Ramsey said.

  Devon smiled her thanks. “Why are we still here? Why haven’t we left?”

  A Scotswoman with curly, chestnut hair and mahogany eyes said to the others, “Let’s give Devon some room. There are a few other areas Lucan mentioned he wanted us to visit in the facility.”

  Devon could only watch as the Druids filed out—all except for Isla and Ramsey. A Druid and a Warrior. She felt inferior next to all these magical beings. It was like reverting to an infant and needing others to care for her.

  That irritated Devon. She liked taking care of herself, but the fact was that she couldn’t in this instance. Not in this world of magic. She was powerless. Literally.

  “It’s a lot to take in,” Isla said.

  Devon looked at them and shrugged. “It is, but I’d rather find Anson.”

  “Con and the other Kings will see that is done,” Ramsey replied.

  She looked at the half-Druid, half-Warrior. “You’re not helping them?”

  Isla hurriedly said, “The Dark aren’t focused on us. We aid the Kings when we can, but most of us have children at the castle, and we’d rather not bring a war there.”

  “Of course,” Devon said.

  Ramsey walked her to a set of chairs and motioned for her to take one. He sat on one side of her, and Isla the other. Then Ramsey said, “You’re looking to find your place, but you doona need to do that, lass. You already have one. This is your world.”

  “How do I have a place?” she asked, the anger coming out. “I don’t have magic. I’m not immortal. I can’t shift.”

  Isla laid a hand on her arm. “You caught the eye of a Dragon King. It doesn’t matter if you have magic or not. This is your world now.”

  “I feel powerless,” she admitted.

  Ramsey touched his head. “You have power here. And here,” he said, pointing to his chest where his heart was. “Use it for Anson.”

  He was right. She wasn’t completely useless. It was time she stopped feeling sorry for herself and picked her arse up off the floor. She straightened her shoulders. “This Druid we sort of saw. Who is she?”

  “We don’t know,” Isla said. “Someone with that kind of power we should know about, but we don’t.”

  Ramsey leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s something I’d like remedied verra soon. What can you tell us about her?”

  “She’s terrifying. The way she spoke to Anson as if she thought she could end him with just a flick of her finger.…” Devon wrapped her arms around herself to hold back the shiver.

  When she was alone, everything that had happened would truly hit her. Until then, she would hold it all together and concentrate on doing what she could to help.

  “I know,” Isla said.

  Devon looked at her, unsure if she heard Isla correctly. “I’m sorry?”

  Isla clasped her hands together while perched on the edge of the seat. “Druids have a connection to the Ancients. These Ancients are Druids who have passed into death, but their magic keeps their souls together. They see everything. And while they’re not exactly forthcoming with information, they can alert us to things.”

  “You’re saying the Ancients told you about this Druid?” Devon glanced at Ramsey to find him nodding along with Isla.

  “In the wee hours of the morning, I was woken by them,” Isla said. “They told me danger was coming. They warned me about this Druid, but told me nothing else.”

  Devon ran her hand through her hair. “This would be easier if they’d just tell you what you need to know.”

  “Ah, but the Ancients doona work that way,” Ramsey said.

  Devon was beginning to see that. At least, they’d given a warning.

  Isla suddenly rose and began to pace slowly. “For some reason, they have connected me to this Druid. When she appeared here before you and Anson, I saw her. I heard her.”

  “So you saw that she was shimmery? Like a ghost?”

  “Yes, but I saw her clearly through her projection. The fact that she was able to project herself at all is very troubling. No other Druid we know of has been able to do that.”

  “Surely, there have been other Druids that could do that.”

  It was Ramsey who replied, “The main faction of Druids resides on the Isle of Skye now. They’ve always had a large fo
rce. They keep records of the powers all Druids have.”

  Devon wasn’t buying this. “So a Druid doesn’t send in their powers to be recorded. There are a lot of people in this world.”

  “The Ancients tell the Skye Druids,” Isla said.

  Well. That certainly put a damper on things. “I think the Ancients forgot to notify the Skye Druids. There have to be others who can project as this woman did.”

  Isla stopped her pacing and faced Isla. “No. Not a one. At least, not that we’ve heard of. To make matters worse, we have no knowledge of what all this Druid can do.”

  “Have the Ancients not told the Skye Druids?” Devon asked.

  Ramsey blew out a long breath. “The Skye Druids know nothing of this woman.”

  They were telling her absolutely zilch that could make the situation better. In fact, Devon felt even worse. “If you saw the Druid, then you don’t need me.”

  “Not true,” Isla said. “I saw it in my mind. You experienced it. There’s a difference.”

  Devon swallowed as she recalled how Anson had approached the Druid without a thread of caution. “What do you want to know? My feelings? How I sat trembling on the cot while Anson strolled up to her without a care? You want me to say how I was too terrified to move but Anson all but threatened her? You want me to tell you how he reassured me after she left, even though I could see he was worried?

  “How about when the Dark appeared after that and had him pinned, throwing those orbs of magic into his chest one after the other so he couldn’t move? Or when two more held me against the bars of my cage while the one who hurt Anson promised to give me pleasure whether I wanted it or not?”

  Now that she was on a roll, she couldn’t stop. “What about when I tried to hold back my scream when that bastard touched me? And how Anson reacted by shifting into a dragon. Should I tell you that I shouted with joy when he killed those Dark? Or how about when I was walking toward Anson so we could fly off, and the leader of the group appeared. Without hesitating, Anson moved to protect me.”

  Her voice cracked, but she was determined to go on. “The Dark said something that made Anson shift back into human form. Then he took Anson. Took him! And I couldn’t do a goddamn thing.”