Soul Scorched

by Donna Grant

  Nothing but a dragon could survive dragon fire. It burned hotter and longer than anything else in all the realms. And the Dark knew it.

  It wasn’t the knowledge that the mortals would freak at seeing him in his true form that stopped Warrick from shifting. It was the fact that he knew the Dark couldn’t get to Darcy in her shop.

  That alone kept him calm enough to return to a slow walk so as not to draw too much attention to himself. “Rhi,” he said as he walked. “If you can hear me, I need your help with Darcy.”

  It wasn’t often that Warrick asked for help, but he wasn’t too proud to do it. Darcy was the one who needed the food. He could take care of himself.

  “Rhi,” he said again, a little louder.

  Still the Light Fae didn’t appear. Not that he expected her to. She only seemed to answer to Rhys.

  Warrick lengthened his strides as he saw more and more Dark the closer he got to Darcy’s shop. He was halfway there when he noticed how the Dark began to surround him. Warrick paid them no attention as he continued on his way.

  “Going somewhere, Dragon?” taunted one Dark.

  Warrick gripped the handles of the basket tighter. He didn’t slow, didn’t turn and punch the idiot. But he wanted to.

  “Forget it,” shouted another Dark. “The Kings are afraid to fight us in front of the humans. They want to stay hidden.”

  There was a snigger from yet another Dark. “Hidden? Hell, the best place to live is out in the open so the mortals fear you. Hear that, Dragon?”

  “The humans will know of them soon enough,” said another.

  Warrick was close enough that he could see the door to Darcy’s shop. He hoped she wasn’t watching, because things were about to get ugly.

  He gave a mental nudge to Thorn and said, “Stay hidden. No matter what, keep an eye on Darcy.”

  “We should’ve called in other Kings.”

  Warrick didn’t have time to respond as he was blasted in the back with magic. It crackled over his back, making his skin burn.

  He waited for the magic to wear off, then he carefully set the basket of food down and turned to face the group of Dark. Warrick counted eleven of them. That didn’t even take into consideration the others who circled the building.

  “If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask,” Warrick said.

  “As if you’ll fight us.”

  Warrick didn’t know which of them said it. He looked from one set of red eyes to another. All had silver in their hair, but it wasn’t as thick with silver as older Dark who had done more evil. “I’ll gladly fight.”

  “Here? Right,” came the sarcastic reply.

  “How about the smartass who keeps mouthing off stepping forward. I’ll deal with him first.”

  * * *

  Darcy hated being mad. She hated feeling deceived as well. As irritated as she was at Warrick, she knew he could’ve kept the information about Con’s plans to himself.

  She had reacted harshly and quickly, but she needed time to herself. All she could think about with Warrick near was his mind-blowing kisses and the way he set her body ablaze with desire.

  At this point, she wasn’t sure who the bad guy was anymore. Was it Ulrik? Was it Con? Was it all the Dragon Kings?

  She ground the heels of her hands into her eyes. Her stomach was nauseated from lack of food, and the added cup of coffee loaded with caffeine hadn’t helped. She really needed to look into decaf.

  Darcy didn’t know what made her get up and check the magic as Warrick had done countless times. She felt along the walls to sense how their magic was holding up. As far as she could tell, it was all still in place.

  She glanced out the back, and didn’t see anything but rain. It wasn’t until she went to the front that she spotted the group of men through the rain. They had black and silver hair of varying lengths, and were all standing in the street.

  They seemed to be surrounding someone. It took some ducking and weaving, but she finally saw who it was.

  “Warrick.”

  Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as her blood iced. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned that there were over a dozen Dark Fae focused solely on him.

  Then she heard his voice muffled through the glass of the door. “How about the smartass who keeps mouthing off stepping forward. I’ll deal with him first.”

  Darcy winced as several of the Dark looked at each other with smiles, as if they had been waiting for just such a suggestion.

  A tall Dark Fae with his hair in a Mohawk that was now falling down due to the water walked through the crowd and faced off against Warrick. The Dark looked him over. “What’s one King going to do to us?” he asked with his arms wide, indicating the other Dark.

  Warrick waited until the laughter stopped. Then he said, “You mean besides kick your ass?”

  That’s all it took to send the Dark into a fit of fury. A large ball of magic formed in the Dark’s hand before he reared back and threw it at Warrick.

  Warrick ducked and rolled, coming up in front of the Dark. He punched the Dark with two swift jabs before he grabbed him by the neck and lifted him.

  The Dark tried to gather more magic, but Warrick moved too quickly. Warrick knelt on one knee and slammed the Dark onto the ground, splitting his head open on impact.

  Darcy covered her mouth with her hand and stepped back. She knew Warrick was strong, but she hadn’t realized just how much until then. After holding her so gently, those same hands could end a life in the blink of an eye.

  Warrick stood, his look daring the Dark to attack. For one heartbeat, two, nothing happened. Then, with a shout from a Dark, the battle began in earnest.

  Darcy tried to keep an eye on Warrick, but she lost him in the crowd. She grasped the window, rising up on her tiptoes to get a glimpse of him. But there were too many Dark.

  She screamed and fell back when a Dark Fae suddenly appeared before the window. He reached for the handle of the door, then bellowed and fell back holding his hand. He ran off, two others taking his place.

  Darcy forgot about Warrick as the Dark began to hurl magic at the spells she, Warrick, and Thorn had put into place. She knew the minute her spells cracked under the onslaught. She felt the tremor shake through the entire building.

  All that separated her now from the Dark was dragon magic.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-TWO

  The rain began to fall harder, thicker. The dark gray clouds obscured the sun, making the morning appear as if it was dusk. Darcy was grateful for the weather. Otherwise, there was no doubt mortals would see Warrick fighting the Dark.

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to figure a way out. The fact there wasn’t one only ramped up her fear.

  Darcy ducked behind the table. It wouldn’t save her, but she wanted to stay out of sight of the Dark. The problem with that was that she could no longer see Warrick. And that wasn’t going to work.

  She peered over the top of the table and around the crystal ball to find Dark Fae still stood at her front door blasting the shop with magic. Warrick couldn’t be seen through the throng of Dark, but movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention.

  Darcy looked to the left and spied something on the roof across the street. It was Thorn. He looked over the side to the ground where a few Dark lingered.

  Then Thorn jumped off the four-story building to land behind the Dark. In less than a heartbeat, he killed two. A moment later, three more were dead.

  Darcy wanted to cheer when Thorn ducked into an alley right before a Dark turned and saw him. She sent up a prayer of thanks. Not just for her, but for Warrick as well.

  He had told her Dragon Kings could only be killed by another King, but he never said anything about being injured by the Dark. She had the distinct feeling that the Dark could do some damage to him.

  If only she could help.

  Darcy dropped her head back and inwardly kicked herself. “Of course I can help. I’m a Druid. From Skye. What th
e hell is wrong with me?”

  She knew the answer—the Dark. They scared her as nothing else could, and she hated them for that. She loathed them for making her forget she was a Druid. She detested them for feeding off humans. She reviled them for how they’d forced their seduction on her the other night.

  With her eyes closed, Darcy called to her magic. She heard the drums and chanting of the ancestors as she felt her magic build higher and higher.

  As her magic grew, her inner strength did as well. She stood and opened her eyes to the Dark at the front door. Then she walked around the table, her hands clenched into fists.

  The two Dark Fae smiled when they saw her. They thought she was coming to them. Fools.

  Before Darcy could release her magic, the door flew open, ripping it from one of its hinges. She twisted away, her arm raised to shield her head.

  The sound of rain hitting the concrete filled the area. She lowered her arm and looked back to the front to see the door bent inward and off to the side.

  “Are you ready for us?” one of the Dark asked, his red eyes looking her up and down.

  Darcy lifted her lip in revulsion. “You’ll never get your hands on me.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She saw more dead Dark littering the ground thanks to Thorn. The fact the Dark couldn’t find out who was doing it made her smile. But that quickly died when she tried to look for Warrick again.

  “The Dragon King won’t be able to save you,” said the second Dark, his Irish accent so thick she almost couldn’t understand him.

  Darcy rolled her eyes. “Don’t you ever shut up?”

  He sneered and hurled magic at her. She jerked, expecting it to hit her, but it slammed into dragon magic at the door and splintered.

  Would hers be stopped as well? Only one way to find out. Darcy spread her fingers and threw her arms out in front of her, releasing her magic as she did.

  It sailed through the doorway and slammed into the two Dark, knocking them on their asses.

  Darcy didn’t stop there. She threw blast after blast. The two were able to deflect most of them, but the ones that landed kept knocking them backward.

  With each hit, Darcy grew more confident. She was determined to do her share against the Dark and not stay huddled in a corner waiting to be saved. She was a Druid, for goodness sake. She needed to act like one.

  If only she could get a glimpse of Warrick. He must still be doing damage, because the group around him hadn’t moved away. Why would they though? They’d managed to catch a Dragon King twice before. Why wouldn’t they try again?

  Darcy renewed her blasts of magic. She was not going to be responsible for Warrick being taken by the evil shits.

  Thorn was doing his fair share of taking out Dark Fae, but he had to be stealthy about it and remain hidden. Which meant he couldn’t take out as many as he wanted. Still, he was doing enough damage that those around Warrick began to take notice.

  When the two Dark Darcy was fighting ran off, she shifted and began focusing her magic on Warrick’s group. It didn’t take long for them to turn to her.

  That’s when she got a glimpse of Warrick. He was still fighting. It made her smile—and breathe easier.

  Until she realized the Dark were now fixated on her. Darcy squared her shoulders. Whether the dragon magic held around her shop or not, she was going to stand as a Druid and show the Dark what she was made of.

  Thorn dashed from the shadows, throwing her a smile before he grabbed a Dark and wrenched his head 180 degrees. Darcy winced and gathered her magic once more.

  * * *

  Warrick was on his hands and knees in the rain. He tried to rise, but the blows of magic had taken a toll. His arms, unable to hold him, gave out so that he pitched forward onto the cobblestones. His limbs were going numb while the rest of him burned as if acid had been poured on him from the Dark magic.

  “I’ve got you,” Thorn said and dragged him off the streets into a narrow alley. “Damn, War. You look awful.”

  “Oh good. I look better than I feel.”

  Thorn set him against the wall and squatted beside him. “The few Dark that remain have hidden. They’ll be back. With more.”

  Warrick shook his head. More was not good. More meant that the odds of the humans seeing them grew exponentially. He still wasn’t sure how mortals hadn’t noticed them, but he was thankful of the rainclouds and the rain for aiding in that fact.

  Warrick dropped his head back against the building as his body began to heal. “How did you do?”

  “I killed several. Wanted to kill more,” Thorn said with a grumble. “But I stayed hidden as we discussed. It worked. They didna know where I was, or if Darcy was the one killing them.”

  Warrick’s gaze jerked to Thorn. “What? What do you mean they thought Darcy was killing them?”

  Thorn grunted as he shot Warrick a look. “Did you forget she was a Druid?”

  “Nay. Well. Maybe.” He briefly closed his eyes. “It doesna matter. Tell me what happened.”

  “There were two Dark trying to get to her. They broke through her magic. She stood and faced them, War. You should’ve seen her. It was … impressive.”

  For Thorn to say such words was something to be sure. Warrick wished he could’ve seen her. He could only imagine Darcy standing there with her green eyes narrowed and trained on the Dark as she used her magic.

  “She was a sight,” Thorn said.

  “Where is she now?”

  “Still in the shop. She knows better than to attempt to leave.”

  Thank the stars. “I got food. I need to get it to her.”

  Thorn pushed him back when he tried to sit up. “I’ll get it to her. You stay here and rest. You took a great many hits of magic, War.” Thorn frowned as he looked him over. “I’m surprised you’re still conscious.”

  “Me too.”

  It wasn’t the first time Warrick had taken hits from a Dark. He’d taken many in the Fae Wars, but this was the first time he had been beset by so many Dark at once. He tried to count. In the end, there had been twenty Dark he faced at once.

  But he knew why he kept fighting. Darcy.

  During the battle with the Dark, he tried to use his power of protection, but he hadn’t had a chance to get past the Dark to do it.

  A mistake he wouldn’t make again.

  Warrick watched Thorn use the shadows, buildings, and cars to remain hidden as he gathered what remained of the groceries Warrick had gotten. There wasn’t much, but it would be something for Darcy.

  He closed his eyes when Thorn went to the back of the shop. Darcy was safe and soon to have her belly full of food. Warrick had done his duty. It wasn’t nearly over, but he could rest for a bit.

  It was just a few minutes later before Thorn returned. He sat beside Warrick, a peevish look on his face.

  “What?” Warrick asked, suddenly worried. “Is Darcy all right?”

  “She’s more than fine,” Thorn grumbled.

  Warrick forgot the pain and sat forward to face him. “What’s that mean?”

  “She wouldna stop asking questions about you. Apparently I didna satisfy her, because she’s demanding to see that you’re all right, despite my telling her that you were.”

  Warrick smiled. He wasn’t surprised by Darcy’s words. She might be angry, but she held a great amount of empathy within her. “Is that so?”

  “Aye. Go to her, mate, because I willna be going back without you.”

  “Is she scared?”

  Thorn’s eyes grew large in agitation. “Scared? Did you no’ just hear what I told you?”

  “Mortals sometimes mask their true feelings with others.”

  “Is that so?”

  Warrick leaned back against the building once more. Damn. Had he let too much slip? His brethren wouldn’t understand his fascination with the mortals. “Or so I’ve been told.”

  “By who?” Thorn asked. “You doona like being around anyone. Except, apparently, Darcy. It seems you’r
e content to remain with her for hours.”

  “We’re here to protect her.”

  “That we are, but you usually want to take the position farthest away from everyone. No’ so this time.”

  Warrick shrugged. “She’s interesting.”

  “And quite pretty. That explains why you want to remain around her, but you’ve still no’ said how you know so much about the humans.”

  No matter what Warrick said, Thorn wasn’t going to stop questioning him until he was satisfied with the answer. There wasn’t time for that kind of debate, and Warrick wasn’t keen to sit there that long either.

  “You’ve always been riveted by them.”

  Warrick’s head swung to Thorn. “What?”

  “It’s no’ a secret, War. You tried to hide it, sure, but we saw how you watched them.”

  “You’ve been asleep,” Warrick said, disgruntled that he hadn’t kept his interests to himself as he originally thought.

  Thorn glanced out to the street. “For only three centuries. You liked your solitude, but that didna mean the rest of us didna look out for you.”

  “I know,” he answered roughly. He wasn’t comfortable talking about such things. The way Thorn wouldn’t meet his gaze, said he wasn’t happy about it either. “We look out for each other.”

  “Aye, but you forget that when you go off by yourself.”

  “I doona,” Warrick argued. “I stay to myself because I’m never sure of what to say, and when I do talk, most times I say the wrong thing.”

  Thorn turned his head back to him. “I’m no’ condemning you for your choices.”

  There was more to his words, the meaning going much deeper than Warrick’s choices. He wondered what Thorn was alluding to, but he knew better than to prod. Thorn would never reveal anything.

  It was odd to realize that other Kings knew what he had been about. Warrick had assumed they didn’t care when he went off by himself. It seems he was wrong about a great many things.

  “Aye, I find the mortals interesting. Their choices, their stupidity, their brilliance. All of it intrigues me.”

  Thorn’s dark eyes held no censure. “You’ve been studying them a long time. How is it you didna hold the hate within you as most of us did?”