by Donna Grant
It wasn’t a question. “Aye. She believed the load of shite Ulrik gave her, and she was still going to write the article. She needed the truth.”
“Perhaps. But now you’ve only put her life in jeopardy because Ulrik will learn what you’ve done. Especially when she doesna write the article.”
“Aye.”
There was a lengthy pause before Constantine stated in a hard voice, “You’re bringing her to Dreagan.”
“I’ll no’ leave her for Ulrik to kill, which we both know he will. Either he’ll kill her or threaten her enough so she writes the article, then he kills her. That willna happen.”
“So you’ve fallen for her?”
“She was lied to, and her life is in danger. I’m doing what needs to be done.”
Con then said, “There are places she could go. The Isle of Skye for one. The Druids would watch her. Better yet, send her to MacLeod Castle. The Warriors and Druids will protect her.”
Those were viable options, but Asher wanted no part in them. “This is our mess. We’ll do the protecting.”
“Are none of you concerned with how many are finding mates? No’ even before the spell we cast on ourselves no’ to have such feelings for the mortals we didna have so many mates.”
“Maybe this is our curse for going all those centuries without such feelings. It does concern me, because the more mates we have, the more we have to protect, and the more Ulrik can hurt us. But none of that changes the fact Rachel will be returning with me.”
“And you believe she’s no longer working with Ulrik? You trust that she has turned her back on that?”
“Aye.”
“Then bring her home.”
The link was disconnected, and Asher returned to focusing on the meeting.
* * * *
Rachel stretched beneath the covers and smiled. Sunlight filtered through the curtains and filled the room. Asher’s room. She had spent another wonderful night with him.
She rolled over to his pillow and found a deep purple calla lily upon it with a note. Rachel picked up the note, noticing the elegantly neat script.
No more hiding. Join me today.
Yours,
A
She tucked the note to her chest and held the flower. After reading the note a few more times, she rose and dressed to return to her room.
Asher was right. She was done hiding. The confessions and revelations last night had wiped away any need for that. Excitement pumped through her at being her real self with him. It was the side of her she hadn’t known was even there, but he made it shine.
She quite liked this new her. It was certainly going to make it difficult for her to continue her work in the manner that she had. If she could continue.
Once inside her room, she checked every space and turned on the water for the shower. Sam, or rather Ulrik, wasn’t going to be happy about her change of heart. She also agreed with Asher that Ulrik might come after her.
There were still ways to expose the truth of others to the world. Except now, she would dig even deeper than before. Nothing she learned about Asher or Dreagan would’ve given her the story she heard last night.
She stepped into the shower and wondered what might’ve happened had he not told her and she wrote the story. What those words––while true––could’ve destroyed?
What had her words destroyed?
She winced as she thought about all the people and companies she had exposed in the course of telling the truth. Had families been ripped apart? Had they suffered? Though she tried not to think of it, the thought was already there.
If she announced the truth, people got hurt.
If she didn’t share what she knew, people got hurt.
How was she ever going to know what was the right thing to do now?
She turned on some music to drown out her mind and dressed. She chose a pair of black jeans, a black sweater, and the camel-colored long coat. Tall black boots would keep her feet warm. She opted to put her hair up in a messy side bun with her diamond stud earrings, the locket with pictures of her family, and her thumb ring.
After a look at the flower, Rachel walked from the room. On her way out of the lobby, someone called her name. She turned and found one of the concierges rushing toward her.
The man said, “Mademoiselle, I just sent a bellman up to your room to let you know I have a message.”
“Message?” she asked, suddenly wary.
“Oui. He said he didn’t have much time, but asked that you meet him at this address.”
Rachel accepted the paper with a smile. “Thank you.”
“Au Revoir.”
“Au Revoir,” she replied as she looked at the address. Why hadn’t Asher called her? Though she didn’t give him her mobile number, he’d learned everything else.
She adjusted her purse on her shoulder and walked outside to the waiting taxi. Once inside the car, she handed the paper to the driver. “I’d like to go here, please.”
The driver, a man with wide-set eyes, a large nose, and a rather wide bald spot at the back of his head eyed the paper then her. “Are you sure?” he asked in a heavy French accent.
“Oui.”
With a shrug, he drove away from the hotel. Rachel checked her texts and her e-mails, but there was nothing from Sam/Ulrik. There hadn’t been before either. But Asher had her worried. Since learning what Sam/Ulrik was capable of, she had reason to be apprehensive of him.
Thank God she was with Asher. She still couldn’t believe he wanted to help guard her against Sam/Ulrik, but she was going to accept it. Somehow, she would make it up to him and the rest of the Dragon Kings for what she had nearly done.
She put the phone away and looked up. Only to frown. Gone was the beautiful architecture of the Paris she knew. This was the section of the city no tourist ever saw. Surely this couldn’t be where Asher wanted to meet.
The taxi pulled over. She craned her head to look out the window at what was left of the crumbling, rusted warehouse. There wasn’t a single window that wasn’t broken, and the door, tilted and hanging by one hinge, stood half-open.
“This isn’t a good place for you to be.”
She jerked at the driver’s voice, having forgotten she wasn’t alone. She glanced at him. Asher wouldn’t have sent for her if it weren’t important.
With her resolve in place, she paid her fare and opened the car door.
“Should I stay?” the driver asked.
Rachel opened her mouth to tell him “yes” when she spotted the front of the Jaguar parked on the other side of the warehouse. “Thank you, but no. I’ve got a ride back.”
She watched the taxi drive off with the man still shaking his head inside. She sucked in a breath as a gust of frigid wind slammed into her. Turning on her heel, she strode to the door where she saw the chain swinging around the door handle. It was still bright silver, it was so new. Obviously Asher had a key to get in the place.
The metal door was ice cold against her palm. When she pushed against it, the door emitted a loud squeak that had her jerking her hand back. She shook her head, smiling. She didn’t scare easily, but knowing someone like Ulrik was out there had obviously unsettled her more than she realized.
She tucked her purse against her front and squeezed through the opening. Inside the warehouse she blinked against the darkness while her eyes adjusted. It smelled musty and old, the unuse evident in the clutter and debris that littered the floor. Her heels were loud on the concrete as she took slow, uncertain steps.
A flurry off to her left alarmed her as pigeons, startled from their slumber, flew to the upper recesses of the building. She followed their flight to see just how huge the warehouse was.
Perhaps big enough for a dragon.
Could that be why Asher had called her here? She hoped it was. She knew so much about him now, but she didn’t know that part. And she was anxious to see him.
“Asher,” she called softly. Then louder, she said, “Asher!”
C
hapter Fourteen
The door opened to the meeting room, and Asher’s gaze immediately shifted to see who it was. The instant he saw Ms. Engel, he knew. Without a word to the others in attendance, Asher pushed back his chair and strode toward the door where she waited.
Outside of the room in the nearly deserted corridor, he turned and asked, “What happened?”
“It appears someone sent Rachel to a deserted warehouse.”
Asher pivoted and lengthened his strides as he made his way to the front of the building where his car awaited. Several people called his name, but he didn’t glance their way.
His main thought––his only thought––was getting to Rachel in time. It would be so much easier if he could shift and fly to her. He could be there in seconds. Instead, he had to take the mortal route by car. Through traffic. Red lights. Stop signs.
And people.
It was almost too much to bear.
It wasn’t until they were in the car that Ms. Engel said, “An address was given to her at the hotel. One of the men said the hotel staff gave it to her, claiming it came from a call. They never used a name. She must’ve assumed it was from you.”
He squeezed his eyes closed. “I told her to join me at the WWC.”
“I see.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger before he opened his eyes. “Are the people you hired at the warehouse?”
“Yes. There are four of them.”
Their numbers didn’t matter if Ulrik was involved. “Did they see anyone with Rachel?”
“When I was contacted, they were attempting to gain access into the building where she went.”
“Call them off. Now,” he barked.
Without question, she grabbed her phone and sent two numbers in a text. “They’ll wait for your arrival.”
As the minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness, he thought of all the ways Ulrik could hurt Rachel.
And then he thought of all the ways he was going to kill Ulrik.
None of it alleviated his fear. If anything, it made it double until he was choking on it. He should never have left her alone. She had been sleeping so soundly that he hadn’t wanted to wake her. If only he had. They wouldn’t be in this mess. Then again, if it wasn’t today, it would’ve been another day.
This scenario would’ve played out one way or another.
He hated to acknowledge that, but there it was. Nothing a Dragon King did could completely safeguard a mate. For all their immortality, power, and magic, the Kings had too much to lose to fight Ulrik as they should.
It was never more clear than at that moment what lengths Ulrik would go to in order to achieve his goal. And it was never clearer what the Kings needed to do in order to win.
Con wasn’t going to like it, but Ulrik was backing them into a very tight corner. Their choices were quickly dwindling.
As soon as they turned down the street lined with old buildings, many abandoned, Asher ordered the driver to stop. From the inside of the car, he took stock of his surroundings.
The warehouses were tall and numerous, leaving ample room for Ulrik to hide among any of them. It was a trap. Plain and simple. He was prepared for it, but Rachel wasn’t. None of the humans were. Because he wasn’t certain if Ulrik had brought mortals—or Dark Fae.
“Which building is it?” he asked Ms. Engel.
She laid her arm between the front seats and pointed out the windshield. “The third on the right.”
He looked from the driver to her. “Thank you both. When I get out, I want you to back up and drive away.”
“Sir,” Ms. Engel protested.
He held up a hand. “Call off the people watching Rachel. I want everyone gone.”
“You might need help,” she protested.
“It’ll be better if there were no witnesses to what I’m about to do. Nor do I want any of you to get hurt.”
He reached for the door when her hand grasped his wrist. Asher turned his head toward her.
Ms. Engel’s face was filled with apprehension as she stared at him through her glasses. “Be careful, sir.”
“Worry about those attempting to hurt Rachel, Ms. Engel,” he declared and climbed out of the car.
He shut the door, and just as he ordered, they backed up and drove away. He waited several tense minutes to be sure the people watching Rachel had time to get away.
Then he began walking to the warehouse.
* * * *
Rachel felt a shiver glide down her spine like the fingers of the dead. If Asher were here, he would’ve shown himself. This was wrong, all wrong.
She took a step back and felt the heel of her boot sink into something. Glancing down, she saw she had stepped into the carcass of a decomposing rat. She gagged and swiftly moved to the side.
The rat was soon forgotten as the hairs on the back of her neck rose. She stilled, her gaze moving around the shadow-filled warehouse to see who was watching her. That was enough. She turned to retrace her steps to the door. It didn’t matter if she had to walk back to the hotel, she wasn’t remaining there an instant longer.
She was about to pass through a darkened area she had just been through moments before when her feet halted. Though she couldn’t see into the dark, she knew someone––or something—was there.
When she took a step back, something moved in the darkness. Unable to stop herself, she took another step back.
Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw a pair of eyes shining in the dark move toward her. A face took shape, a gorgeous male face with a mocking smile and evil red eyes.
“What a tasty morsel,” he said in an Irish accent.
Dark Fae. She backed up another step, only to bump into someone. She didn’t turn around to see who it was. There was no need to see more of the beautiful horror that was before her.
“Cat got your tongue?” asked the male voice behind her.
Another Irishman. Her heart fell to her feet. The man before her moved closer and she saw his chin-length hair, more silver than black.
There wasn’t the overwhelming need to have sex with them as Asher said, but that could be because she was in the cold grip of fear. Apparently the Dark was thinking the same thing as he frowned.
“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, anger tingeing his words.
“She’s been with a Dragon King.”
The third male voice came from her left, and there was no mistaking the Scottish brogue. It wasn’t Asher’s voice, yet Rachel recognized it somehow.
The man behind her laid his hands on her shoulders heavily and squeezed hard. “I don’t care who she’s been with. I want her.”
“Not before I’ve had a go at her,” stated the first Irishman.
The Scotsman remained in the shadows, but whatever he did shut the two Irishmen up. “It’s really too bad that you didna complete what you were sent here to do, Rachel.”
“I’m still working on it,” she lied.
The laugh that followed was hollow. “You fell for the Dragon King. The one thing you promised you wouldna do.”
Sam. Rachel inwardly gasped when she realized why she recognized the voice. It was Sam/Ulrik standing before her. Gone was the cultured British accent. Now he was revealing who he really was.
“Nothing to say?” Ulrik asked sarcastically.
She gave a shake of her head. “It wouldn’t matter what I said. You’ve already condemned me.”
“Tell me what you’ve learned.”
“I don’t know you. I’m not telling you anything.” Thank God her voice came out more confident than she felt.
Because she realized just what kind of precarious position she was in without anyone to save her. How stupid to assume it was Asher who sent for her to such a place. This proved how naïve she still was about so many things despite uncovering as much garbage as she did on a daily basis.
She honestly thought she had time before Ulrik came for her. She foolishly assumed that he would do as he said and
allow her to work. Asher had known. He’d told her Ulrik would be watching. She should’ve remembered that when she so happily went off to meet him at a rundown warehouse.
What an asinine way to die––by stupidity.
“I detest betrayal. There is no coming back from this.”
She released a shuddering breath. It was obvious that to Ulrik a betrayal of any kind meant death. Now that she knew his story, she understood. But that didn’t mean she agreed with it.
“What did Asher tell you?” Ulrik demanded.
If she was going to die, then she was going out swinging. “Step into the light. Let me see your face.”
“This is about you, no’ me.”
“You brought me here. Reveal yourself. Or are you afraid of what I might tell the world when I discover who you are?”
“You want to know me?” he threatened in a voice laced with a promise of violence.
She locked her knees. It was the only way she could remain standing, she was so frightened. “I already know you, don’t I? Ulrik.”
His laugh, a harsh sound between malevolence and indifference, made even the two Dark Fae take a step back from her––and him.
“Just what do you think you know, little mortal? That wee bit of information Asher imparted means nothing,” Ulrik stated in a calm voice.
Which only fed her fear.
She had known Sam was dangerous, but she hadn’t realized just how much until she learned his true identity. Even then, she had arrogantly thought she could handle things.
He was a Dragon King. A fucking real-life being with powers and magic and the ability to breathe fire. She was a mere speck of dirt on the bottom of his foot.
Little mortal? He let it be known just how inconsequential she was to the outcome of whatever he had planned.
All those top executives and corporations with international reaches never scared her no matter how much they threatened. She knew her rights as a journalist, and knew just how far she could push to get the information she needed.
None of that mattered when dealing with a pissed off banished Dragon King with vengeance on his mind. With a flick of his finger, he could end her life.