by Donna Grant
“What?”
“Tristan may join Ulrik.”
After the way Tristan had spoken of Ulrik it was a distinct possibility, and that was why Rhys was so upset. He liked Tristan, not to mention he made one hell of a Dragon King.
If Ulrik managed to woo Tristan to his side, then Tristan would do in one fell swoop what Ulrik had been unable to do for thousands of millennia—undermine Con.
Was that why Con had let Tristan go?
“I see you’ve considered that,” Phelan said.
“Aye.”
Rhys stopped outside the manor and looked to the sky to see dragons circling. There were no visitors to Dreagan, and all mortal workers had been given the day off. But it wasn’t a celebration they planned.
It was a battle that could be the beginning of the end of Dreagan.
“Deirdre, Declan, and Jason all tried to tear us apart from within,” Phelan said. “We survived it all, and we were no’ together nearly as long as you Kings.”
Rhys looked into Phelan’s blue-gray eyes. “Ulrik’s banishment nearly tore us apart. I can no’ see any meddling he does no’ harming us in some way.”
“Then let’s no’ let him meddle.”
Rhys found a reason to smile as they entered the manor.
* * *
Tristan stood across the street from The Silver Dragon antiques shop and considered his plan. It was the only move he had, and yet he couldn’t get the taste of Sammi’s kiss out of his mind.
If only there had been time to strip off her clothes and make slow, sweet love to her. Her image was burned into his mind, as was the first time they had made love.
He couldn’t keep his hands off her. It was a problem because Ulrik and the Dark would use her against him if his plan didn’t work.
Kellan might have withstood the Dark as they threatened and harmed Denae, but Tristan wasn’t so sure he could do the same. He had failed at being a Warrior, and somehow had been given a second chance as a Dragon King.
Was he going to screw that up as well?
Tristan pushed away from the building and ran across the street, dodging an oncoming car. Charon had loaned him a shirt and shoes, so it saved him from having to return to Dreagan.
He pushed open the door, and the tinkling of a bell sounded above him, announcing his arrival. He glanced around the shop for Ulrik.
It wasn’t until his gaze lifted to the second floor that he spotted his target. Ulrik stood staring down at him with a bored expression. His long hair was loose, a contrast to the tailored suit he wore.
“Wipe your feet. I doona want my floors ruined.”
As far as first words went, they couldn’t have been further from what he expected. Tristan complied and wiped his feet on the rug while Ulrik closed the book in his hand and shelved it.
Tristan grew impatient as Ulrik continued to peruse the bookshelf that housed first editions and books dating back centuries.
“Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to tell me what you want?” Ulrik asked.
Tristan held back his retort and took a deep breath. “You’re the one who contacted me, offering to stop the attack on Sammi if I joined you.”
For several seconds Ulrik didn’t move. Then he slowly turned to face him. “You want to take me up on that offer now, I suppose.”
“And if I did? Does the offer still stand?”
Ulrik leaned on the railing and regarded him. “Sammi means that much to you that you would turn your back on Dreagan?”
“She does.”
“A curious name for a female, do you no’ think?”
“Samantha is her name. She goes by Sammi.” Tristan cut his arm through the air. “What difference does her name make? Does the offer still stand?”
Ulrik bent farther and rested his forearms on the railing. “You didna answer my question, Dragon King.”
“She’s an innocent. You’re using her to get to Banan.”
“And yet you’re the one standing before me.”
Tristan clenched his jaw. “Because you offered me a deal.”
“She’s just a mortal. Why would you give up everything for her?”
“Does it matter?” he countered. Tristan wasn’t sure why Ulrik was asking all these questions, but he was damned tired of it.
“A King turning his back on Dreagan for a mortal. Con must be seething. I’m surprised he didna try and lock you up. Or kill you.” Ulrik straightened and started down the stairs. “He’s watching you even now with one of his many spies.”
Tristan wondered if Sammi was talking to Jane or thinking of him as he was her. “I know.”
“You believe I’ll honor my offer?” Ulrik asked as he reached the bottom step. He made his way to Tristan and stopped before him. “After what I know Con has told you about me, you trust me?”
“I’m here, am I no’?”
Ulrik’s gold eyes narrowed for a moment. “That you are. Did Constantine actually let you read the accounting of what happened? Or did he prefer to tell you what occurred himself?”
“He told me.”
“As I figured.” He put one hand in the pockets of his slacks and turned to walk behind the Louis XIV desk he used as his own.
Tristan reined in his temper when Ulrik picked up some papers and began to read through them. On his desk were several mobile phones stacked neatly beside each other. “Are you going to honor your offer?”
Without looking up, Ulrik said, “If you think I can save Sammi from the Dark, you’re mistaken.”
For a moment Tristan seriously considered reaching across the desk and wrapping his hands around Ulrik’s throat. Instead, he threw open the door and stalked out. He had hoped Ulrik would keep his word, but Tristan hadn’t expected it. It would have been easier, but there was a contingency plan in place.
He walked down the street and cut through an alley to get to the next street. Tristan continued to zigzag through the streets until he found Fallon.
“It didna work,” he stated as he walked up.
Fallon straightened from lounging against the building. “You knew it might no’. Back to Dreagan then?”
“Back to Dreagan.”
* * *
Ulrik straightened from his crouching position atop the building where Tristan had met up with none other than a Warrior, Fallon MacLeod. Interesting.
He didn’t notice the rain as it began to drizzle, soaking his clothes. It appeared Tristan was set to go to any extremes to save Sammi.
“A mortal,” he said aloud.
That must be a thorn in Con’s side. Four of his Kings already mated to humans.
Ulrik’s smile was cold and calculating. Everything Con had built would be destroyed. Ulrik would see to it himself. After all, he owed Constantine.
He turned and jumped from building to building, making his way back to The Silver Dragon. There was much Con didn’t know about, no matter how many spies he put on Ulrik.
“Soon, old friend. Soon, you will feel my wrath. I’ve thousands of years of revenge to pay you back for.”
* * *
Sammi tried to sit, but every time she did, she would jump back up.
“You’re making me dizzy with your pacing,” Ian said from the window with his back to her.
She threw her hands up. “I can’t help it. Why did you agree to this? Why is Dani all right with you putting your life on the line?”
“Because it’s for Dunc … Tristan. He asked it of me.”
Sammi shook her head and wished for a very tall glass of wine, whisky, or anything to calm her nerves. Ever since Tristan had laid out his plan, she had been a mess, a complete bundle of nerves that got worse as the hours ticked by.
It didn’t help that they were once more back at the cottage. The same cottage where she had spent a glorious night in his arms and woke to find him gone the next morning.
She couldn’t even go into the bedroom. It was too painful to see the bed with sheets still rumpled from their passion-filled nigh
t.
Ian turned his head to her. “It’s a good plan.”
“A plan that uses you for bait.”
“Only if Ulrik doesna accept him.”
Rhys had related the entire story of how Ulrik’s lover, a human, had betrayed him and led her people to kill dragons. The Kings had responded quickly and killed her, but without telling Ulrik what they were doing.
According to Rhys, Ulrik had gone a little insane. No one was sure if it was because his lover had been murdered or that she’d betrayed him.
Either way, Ulrik began to send his Silvers to kill humans, and not just the ones hunting dragons. The Silvers killed all humans.
That’s when Con and the rest of the Dragon Kings had united their magic and taken away Ulrik’s. He was doomed to walk the earth as an immortal, but without any of the benefits of being a Dragon King.
It was a sad story really. In some ways she could completely understand why Ulrik wanted retribution against the humans as well as Con.
Then she remembered he was the one who’d sent someone to murder Daniel, destroy her pub, and kill her. The idea that he was also in league with the Dark was mind-numbing.
Now she knew why the Dark wanted a Dragon King. It was for Ulrik.
And Tristan had just served himself—and Ian—up on a platter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Tristan found himself at the cottage in less time than it took him to think of it. He looked at the stone structure and the double doors he had followed Sammi through as his desire had flared.
Remembering that night, the passion, the sighs, the pleasure, sent his blood heating. How in the world could he be here with her and not give in to his need?
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Fallon asked.
Tristan shifted his gaze to him. “You mean, can I put Ian in danger?”
“Aye. He has a wife, a home. A life.”
“You doona think I realize that?”
“Nay, I doona. I think you’re so wrapped up in the workings of the Kings that you’ll sacrifice anything and anyone to get to the endgame.”
Tristan raised a brow at the unspoken leader of the Warriors. “Tell me, Fallon, when I was supposedly this Duncan, did we get along?”
“We did. Why?”
“Because I’m finding it hard not to put my fist into your jaw.”
“Enough,” Ian said as he walked out of the cottage.
Tristan barely spared him a glance as his gaze landed on Sammi. Worry lines bracketed her mouth, and her powder blue eyes were filled with doubt and indecision.
He understood exactly how she felt. His plan would work, but that didn’t mean he liked any of it. There was a large chunk of it that he hadn’t shared with any of them, because if they knew, none would have agreed to the plan.
Ian stopped several feet from Tristan. “How did it go with Ulrik?”
“No’ as I’d hoped.”
Sammi let out a relieved sigh. “He didn’t want you. Thank God.”
“He didna have much to say, actually,” Tristan said as he walked to her. He couldn’t keep any kind of distance from her. She drew him much like the sun drew flowers.
She looked up at him, her hand on his chest. “Now comes the waiting, right?”
“I doona think we’ll have to wait long,” Ian said as he moved around them to enter the cottage.
Tristan looked at Fallon to see him staring angrily. Fallon was furious that he was willing to put Ian’s life on the line. Odd that he wasn’t irate with Ian for being prepared to do it.
“If you have something to say, say it,” Tristan demanded of Fallon.
Fallon’s dark green eyes narrowed dangerously. “Ian is one of ours. You Kings may be cavalier with your own lives, but we can no’ be. You may no’ remember who you once were, but the rest of us do, especially the man you’re so casually using as bait.”
As soon as the last syllable left Fallon’s mouth, he jumped away. Tristan drew in a long breath and returned his gaze to Sammi.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Ian?” she asked softly.
He shrugged. “Probably for the same reason that I wouldna see him.”
“No one can know what you’re going through, so don’t let anyone try to tell you that it’s wrong. You have to decide what’s best for you. You’re a Dragon King, Tristan. I’m not saying the Warriors aren’t important. They are.”
“I know,” he said and slid his fingers into the cool locks of her hair. “And thank you.”
“I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“I shouldna have, but I had to see you.”
She pulled away and out of his arms. “There’s no need to say such things. I know you need me to help set the trap.”
“You think I’m lying?” He was so taken aback that he could only gawk at her.
“This isn’t the time. Good luck,” she said and walked back into the cottage, closing the door quietly behind her.
It would’ve hurt less had she slammed the door, but her calm acceptance of what she thought he had done was enough to snap his control.
“Let her go,” Ian said from behind him.
Tristan whirled around to find Ian on the porch that came off the master bedroom. He glanced at the door, but knew going after Sammi now would only cause more damage. Ian let his gaze look around him. “Spectacular view. Now I know why the Kings chose this place. But there is something about this cottage that has Sammi tied in knots. Her frequent looks into this bedroom,” he said and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, “tells me everything. No’ half as much as your reaction when you found her with me, however.”
Tristan swallowed. What did he say to the man who was his twin? A man he saw bits and pieces of through memories as fleeting as sand through his fingers.
“You should’ve seen her reaction when she first saw me. Sammi thought I was you. Whatever you did to send her running must have been bad.”
“I did it to save her life.”
Ian nodded absently. “And possibly crushed whatever was blooming between the two of you in the process.”
“How can I have her in my life when I doona even know who I am? Am I Tristan, the Dragon King? Or am I Duncan, the Warrior?”
“Why can you no’ be both?”
Tristan opened his mouth to answer, but he quickly closed it. Could he be both Dragon King and Warrior? Could he accept his past as twin to Ian and still give himself to the Kings?
Ian rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “I doona expect anything from you. I just wanted to see you. I wasna there when Deirdre had you killed. I’ve regretted every day since that I remained behind at the castle.”
“I doona know how I died, and I’m no’ sure I want to know.”
“It doesna matter. None of it does anymore. It’s enough that you’re here. Whether you ever regain your memories or no’, I’m once more complete knowing you’re alive.”
Tristan looked into eyes the same deep brown as his own. Ian was giving him a way out so he wouldn’t have to have any more contact once this was over. Is that what he wanted? He wasn’t so sure now. “This plan could go all pear-shaped.”
“That could be said for any plan. Just remember Dani will have your arse if anything happens to me,” he said with a smile.
But Tristan couldn’t smile. He knew the possibility that the very worst could happen was high. “Go home to your wife.”
Ian’s smile was replaced with incredulity. “Pardon me?”
“Fallon was right. You have a wife. Go home to Danielle.”
“And what will you do?”
“Whatever has to be done.”
Ian grunted, affronted by his answer. “Even if that means letting the Dark take you?”
“Even then.”
“Nay,” Ian said with icy fury. “I wasna by your side the last time. I’ll no’ leave it now.”
Tristan looked to the sky. The Kings were keeping their distance from the cottage so the Dark Ones would
think they were safe to attack. “We willna be together now. The Dark can no’ see two of us.”
“Exactly. Get your ass moving.”
“Standing in for me willna change the past.”
Ian crossed his arms over his chest, his expression flat. “I’m immortal, you ass.”
“But you’ve no’ see what the Dark Ones can do. Immortality will only make their torture last longer. Now that Ulrik has refused me, my place is here. I’ll be the one to confront the Dark and keep them away from Sammi.”
“I’m no’ leaving. I agreed to your plan. Let us carry it out so Sammi can be safe and you can prepare to do some serious begging for her forgiveness.”
Tristan had no other argument to sway Ian away. He hated that he liked the guy. Whatever reason he had, Ian readily countered it. There was nothing for him to do but accept that Ian wasn’t going to leave, and make damn sure that he was ready when the Dark came.
Because they would come.
“Stay vigilant. The Dark are no’ like any of the Druids you’ve fought. They’re much more devious, and will appear in the room before you’ve even realized they’re there.”
Ian dropped his arms and nodded. “Anything else?”
“They like to show off. They want a Dragon King, so they’ll make a big show of attempting to take Sammi. I’ll be near to step in before they can take either of you.”
“You hope.”
Tristan looked away. He did hope. He couldn’t stay too close to the cottage for fear the Dark would see him and Ian, but he couldn’t be too far away and not get to them in time. It was a huge chance he was taking, but he was also prepared to follow them back to Ireland and comb those tunnels to find them.
“Good luck,” Tristan said. He started to walk off when Ian held out his hand. Tristan looked from his outstretched hand to his face before he clasped Ian’s forearm.
Ian’s hand tightened on his forearm as a smile appeared. “It’s good to have you back, whether you’re Duncan or Tristan.”
With that, Ian turned on his heel and walked into the cottage.
Tristan turned to the mountains and the growing darkness. The Dark Ones could come at any time, but they preferred the night. It was no wonder so many people were afraid of the dark. They knew what was inside it—the Dark Fae.