by Donna Grant
“I swiped it,” Paul said as he stepped around her and pulled something from his suit jacket.
Cináed smiled. “Nice work.”
The Dragon King walked away, leaving Alex and Paul alone. With even fewer answers than before.
Chapter Eighteen
“Now do you think you can tell me what’s going on?”
Alex swiveled her head to Paul and met his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“I thought you trusted me,” Paul said, disappointment lining his face.
She glanced at the room where Dorian lay alone. “I do, but it isn’t my story to tell.”
Paul swiped a hand down his face before he put his hands on his hips. “I heard Yasser, Alex. I heard him tell Dorian that it was time Dragon Kings fell. Is that some gang? A mob name? Give me something.”
“We’re no’ a crime family nor have any affiliation with one,” said an authoritative voice.
Alex and Paul turned as one toward the man. His impassive black eyes stared at them as he stood in an olive colored suit with a white dress shirt beneath and no tie. He lifted his hand from his pocket and Alex spotted a gold cufflink, but she couldn’t make out what it was.
Upon closer inspection she saw the gold dragon head. The man tilted his head of wavy blond locks as he lifted a brow to Alex.
She swallowed nervously as the man moved a few steps closer. He barely paid Paul any notice. Alex was used to being inspected, but she was comprehending that she stood before another Dragon King, who was determining if she was worthy or not. She really hoped she was.
“I don’t know how this happened,” she hurried to say, feeling guiltier as the minutes passed.
The man’s brow furrowed. “This isna on you, Miss Sheridan.”
“Alex, please,” she told him.
He held out his hand. “I’m Constantine.”
In her life, Alex had met presidents, queens and other royalty, and numerous heads of states, and not a single one of them had ever made her nervous. Until now.
Con bowed his head slightly, the only acknowledgement that she must have let it show that she knew who he was. His hand remained outstretched, and she quickly took it.
She then looked into his dark eyes and said, “We were on the way to my place to get some things before we headed to Dreagan.”
It wasn’t that Alex didn’t trust Paul... Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Right now, she only trusted the Kings after her driver of six years turned out to be a murderer. So she kept any mention of the artifact from Paul, but Con was smart enough to get what she had purposefully left out.
“Shall I send someone to gather what you need?” he asked.
Before Alex could reply, Paul said, “No one is going into her home but me. Not after what happened.”
Con’s shift was subtle, but Alex saw the way he stiffened and his lips went into a firm line as he turned to Paul.
It wasn’t long before Paul looked away, unable to hold Con’s gaze. Then again, Con was the King of Dragon Kings. Paul didn’t stand a chance against any of them.
“I would appreciate that,” she told Con, bringing his attention back to her. “However, I would like for you to take my assistant with you. Meg knows exactly what is needed.”
The tall woman from earlier walked toward them. She smiled easily at Alex. “I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances. I’m Eilish. It’s a pleasure, Alexandra.”
“Call me Alex,” she replied, hearing the slight Irish brogue mixed with the very American accent.
“She’s Irish, but was raised in Boston,” a man said as he came to stand between Con and Eilish. “I’m Ulrik, by the way.”
Alex’s mouth dropped open as she stared. Ulrik’s gold eyes crinkled as he looked at Eilish. “I fear she knows all about me, love.”
“You are rather a troublemaker,” Eilish replied.
Alex snapped her mouth closed. “I’m sorry. I’m being incredibly rude.”
A moment later the elevator opened and Meg walked out. Alex introduced both Meg and Paul to the others all while glancing toward Dorian.
“We’ll figure out what happened,” Ulrik said.
She looked toward him and saw the promise in his eyes. “It was Yasser, my driver. He’s been with me for a while. I trusted him. I don’t understand what happened.”
Meg touched her arm. “It’s going to be all right. I’m going to head to the penthouse now.”
Alex watched her friend leave with Ulrik and Eilish. When she turned back around she discovered that Cináed had taken Paul off to talk about the weapon. Which left her alone with Con.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked.
She wrapped her arms around herself, her gaze going to Dorian. “A little. I just found out who Dorian was. I told him that I was handing the relic over to see if it could help all of you. No one knew who he was but me and Meg.”
“And how did the two of you know?”
Alex swallowed and walked into the room to be with Dorian. She stopped by his bed and took one of his hands in hers. Then she looked at Con, who stood on the opposite side. “I saw him shift. Then he disappeared. I got scared and left. It was Meg who told me about the video that circulated recently. She also helped me see that Dorian had the opportunity to hurt me, but he hadn’t. That’s when I realized he’d come for something. My anger overruled everything else and I went to see him.”
She smoothed a lock of hair from Dorian’s brow. “He told me everything, including how his sister was killed. My heart broke for him.” Her gaze slid to Con. “For all of you, actually.”
“I saw for myself how he looked at you from the recordings of the accident.”
She nodded. “I understand his hate. To have that much loathing within him, and not harm anyone in this city is amazing. New York tends to bring out the worst in most people. You took a huge chance.”
“I had faith in him.”
“You took a chance.”
Con blew out a breath and nodded once. “I took a chance. We needed the artifact, and Dorian was the only one who could get through the security and magic to it. He wanted to steal it his first night here. He actually walked your penthouse and found the relic.”
“Magic?” she asked, confused. “There’s no magic around it.”
“Aye, there is.”
She licked her lips. “I don’t know how it got there. Yasser knew who Dorian was. I need to know how.”
“We’re looking into that.”
“There was such hate in Yasser’s eyes. He’d been nice to Dorian until that moment. I never suspected.”
Con shrugged at her words. “You hire others to protect you.”
“Yes, but I pay a firm a large amount of cash to vet those who work for me. Ultimately, this falls on me.”
“Nay,” the King of Kings said. “It’s mine. No’ only did I send Dorian out into the world when he wasna ready, but I knew our enemies were out there, waiting.”
Alex twisted her lips. “The thing is, Dorian was ready. He didn’t know it then, but he needed this. As for enemies, that will never change. I have my own share, and no matter what I do, they’re always there. What I need to know is if Dorian will wake up. He’s immortal. He’s not supposed to die.”
Cináed walked in the room then. He looked between her and Con. “I thought this might be like the wooden dragon Dmitri and Faith found, but it isna. There are Fae markings on the hilt.”
Con briefly closed his eyes and whispered, “Rhi.”
Alex frowned, wondering what was going on. She recognized the name from the story Dorian had told her, but she couldn’t remember exactly who Rhi was. Everyone seemed to be waiting expectantly, but nothing happened.
The minutes ticked by in silence. Alex looked between the two men. She was about to ask what where Paul was when Con opened his eyes, anger flashing briefly. Cináed appeared resigned.
“I should’ve known,” Con mumbled.
“Should’ve known what?” came a feminine Irish
voice behind Alex.
She whirled around and came face to face with a creature so stunning that Alex blinked, thinking she was in a dream.
The woman’s silver eyes landed briefly on Alex before she tugged on the long black braid that hung over one shoulder.
She smiled at Alex, but as her silver eyes moved past her, the grin died. The woman frowned and came to stand beside Alex to look at Dorian.
“Thanks for coming, Rhi,” Cináed said. “We wanted you to look at this.”
Rhi didn’t look to him. Instead, she lifted her gaze to Con. “You woke Dorian?”
“I had no choice.”
She snorted. “There’s always a choice. What did you need that you made him come to this city?”
“I didna make him do anything,” Con said, his voice low, his body still as stone.
Alex sensed the anger rolling off him, but she kept silent, watching and listening.
Con and Rhi stared at each other a long moment. Then Rhi said, “So this is what you’ve been doing? Instead of us going after UBitch, you’re doing”—Rhi waved her arms—“what exactly?”
“Getting an artifact from me that dates back to the wooden dragon,” Alex said.
Rhi’s head swung to her. Her gaze lowered to see Alex’s hold on Dorian’s hand. Silver eyes jerked back up to Alex, narrowing slightly. “And you are?”
“Alexandra Sheridan,” she replied.
Rhi returned her attention to Con. “Where’s the artifact?”
“That’s no’ why Con called for you,” Cináed said. “This is.”
Rhi physically jerked back a step at the sight of the black knife. “Get that away from me.”
“Why?” Con demanded. “What is it?”
Rhi’s face contorted with revulsion and even fear as she shook her head, taking another step back.
Alex tightened her hand on Dorian. “Tell him,” she beseeched Rhi. “Dorian was stabbed with that.”
“For fek’s sake,” Rhi murmured and turned her head away. After a moment, she took a deep breath and faced them. “That,” she said, pointing to the weapon, “is a Fae blade.”
A muscle twitched in Con’s jaw. “We gathered that bit.”
Rhi cut her eyes to him. “I’ve only ever seen pictures of it. The handle used to be white and gold with a large diamond at the tip.”
Cináed lifted it with two fingers. “It’s all black now.”
“It was the weapon used by the first Fae murderer. All the evil of his deed went into that weapon and turned it black, like his heart.”
Alex contemplated the weapon as Rhi spoke. “Sort of like our Cain and Abel?”
“Yes,” Rhi replied. She shivered. “We need to get that weapon somewhere it can’t influence any of us. As far as I knew, the blade was lost in history.”
Alex stared in amazement as Con took the weapon and enveloped it a glowing, transparent box. Cináed took the box and strode out of the room.
“Who stabbed Dorian?” Rhi asked.
Alex swallowed loudly. “My driver. He said it was time the Dragon Kings fell after he thrust the blade into him.”
“Where is the wound?” Rhi demanded.
Con lowered the sheet that covered Dorian and tore open the bloodied shirt. The blood had stopped, but now the wound was turning black. And spreading.
Rhi moved closer for a better look. Then she asked Con, “Have you tried to heal him?”
“You can do that?” Alex asked, shock and anger making her forget who she was talking to. “That’s your gift, and you let him lie here like this? How dare you?”
Rhi’s smile was blinding. “Oh, honey, I like you.”
Con held Alex’s gaze for a heartbeat before he put his hand on Dorian and closed his eyes.
Chapter Nineteen
Dorian dove from the sky breathing dragon fire on the approaching Dark Fae. Their screams of pain were music to his ears. He dipped a wing and swung back around before he landed.
Orbs of dark magic slammed into him, burning like acid through his scales and into his muscle and bone. But there wasn’t time to think of the pain when more and more Dark Fae came.
He swung his tail, cutting a dozen of his enemies in half. With every one he killed, ten more took their place. They kept coming, like ants, never stopping, never hesitating.
Dorian didn’t know how long he battled, didn’t consider how deep his pain went before he realized something was wrong.
Other Dragon Kings should be with him. They would never leave him alone to battle so many. He opened the mental link and called for help. But there was no answer.
Only a laugh that chilled him to the bone.
It was a sound filled with delight. And triumph.
It was also distinctly female.
He hated the sound of it. Why couldn’t he have heard Alex’s laugh?
At the thought of her, his mind exploded with his memories of her—right up until the blade plunged in his chest and he’d fallen.
This battle wasn’t real, but it didn’t make the agony of the Dark’s magic any less when it hit him. He tried to ignore the Dark Fae, but that was a mistake.
They swarmed him, climbing onto him and bombarding him with their orbs. He roared and jumped into the sky, tucking his wings and rolling through the air to dislodge them. A lucky few managed to hang on.
He quickly rid himself of them by flying so close to the mountains that he scraped his own scales. Fortunately, the Fae couldn’t hang on after coming in contact with the rocks.
Dorian then flew straight up, getting lost in the clouds until he could no longer see the ground below him. He had no idea where he was, but he knew how to get home. He headed in the direction of Dreagan.
No matter what, a dragon always felt the pulse of magic that resonated up from Dreagan. Dorian didn’t pause, didn’t rest. He flew hard and fast toward his home, thinking of Alex and his brethren.
Something was seriously amiss. He didn’t know how he’d left New York and Alex, but he had. Something or someone had seen to that.
The laugh sounded again. He growled, instantly wanting to stop it.
When he found who was responsible, he was going to douse them in dragon fire. It didn’t matter if they were mortal or some other being. They. Would. Die.
As soon as he reached Dreagan, he began his descent from the clouds. The smell of smoke and burning flesh reached him first.
He was so shocked by the smell that was so reminiscent of the war with the humans that he actually drew up short, flying in place as he let himself come to grips with what was happening.
His wounds from the Dark Fae had healed, but the revolting stinging remained. If there were more Fae waiting for him, he needed to be prepared. In the next heartbeat, Dorian used his power and turned invisible.
Only then did he leave the clouds. The smoke was so thick over Dreagan that even his dragon eyesight couldn’t penetrate it. Finally, he emerged from it. And his heart clutched painfully in his chest when he saw that Dreagan was gone.
The manor was a demolished, burning ruin while smoke billowed not only from the scorched Dragonwood but from every mountain, as if someone had gone inside each of the Kings’ sanctuaries and destroyed them. He could hardly comprehend what he saw. No one should have been able to do this to Dreagan.
The anger that built inside him at the destruction came to a screeching halt when he saw his dead brethren scattered over the land.
He roared his anguish and grief. Dorian landed hard, the ache of disbelief slamming into him. He wanted to scream, to cry. To hit something.
Instead, he slammed his hands upon the earth, threw back his head and roared. But that did nothing to ease his misery.
Slowly, he walked among his brothers. He paused when he came to Ulrik. Still in dragon form, Ulrik had fallen, but it looked as if he were reaching for something. Dorian followed Ulrik’s outstretched hand and spotted Eilish.
Dorian frowned and raised his head. He’d been so focused on the Dragon Kings
that he hadn’t noticed the dead mates lying among them.
While he didn’t know what had killed the Kings, the mates had died first. Each had their upper torso caved in. Almost like something was thrown at them.
Eilish and Ulrik weren’t mated yet, so Dorian understood why the Druid could have been killed. But as he stood over Cassie and Elena, who had the same wounds, it didn’t make sense.
They had undergone the mating ceremony and had the dragon eye tattoo on their upper left arms to prove it. That mark gave them immortality. So how had they died?
Who had killed the Dragon Kings?
And who had destroyed Dreagan?
Through the smoke that drifted over the land he saw someone walking toward him. Dorian didn’t shift into his human form. Whoever it was would deal with him in his true shape.
To his surprise, it was a woman. As she drew closer he recognized that she was Fae. He took in her long black hair and the comely shape of her face.
There was much to appreciate about a Fae—Dark or Light. They were gorgeous. Even the males. There wasn’t an ugly one among them, but that didn’t mean their souls weren’t hideous.
Dorian raked his gaze over the female’s body. She wore a long black coat that billowed around her, showing off the tight, black dress that hugged her body and the tan suede boots that came over her knees.
She walked as if she had all the time in the world. As if the death and devastation around them meant nothing. That’s when he knew she was responsible.
“It’s about time you came,” she said in her Irish accent as she drew near.
He didn’t even try talking to her. It wasn’t as if she could understand him.
“Oh, I understand you fine, Dorian.” She smiled slowly, her silver eyes locked with his.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
She shrugged. “You might know had you not withdrawn yourself from the others. They needed you.”
“I’m here. I answered Con’s call.”
“Not the first time.” She shrugged, her face scrunching. “Or the second. You chose to ignore him. Your King.”
He stalked forward until he towered over her. “Who are you?!”