by Donna Grant
“Liar.” There was little heat in his voice, just wariness.
Kiril rolled his eyes. “Come up with another word.”
“You brought her to your house. You asked for her today.”
“All to make you think she had gotten to me. Shara is beautiful. For a Dark. But she didna seduce me.”
Kiril hoped Farrell bought the lie, because it sat like acid on his tongue. If they knew how deeply Shara had wormed her way into his psyche, they would be more than willing to use it against him.
Farrell stared at him as the minutes stretched by. “I promised my father that I’d capture you, and I don’t give a vow I can’t keep.”
“You willna keep this one.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said and left the restaurant.
Kiril was finally left alone to eat his meal. Or so he thought. He was nearly done with the steak when he caught sight of a Dark standing outside the restaurant waiting for him. Kiril rose and walked to the kitchen where he handed his waiter a wad of money.
“Sir?” the waiter asked in confusion.
Kiril nodded to the money. “That’s for the meal, with a hefty tip. I need the back exit.”
The waiter pocketed the money. “Right this way.”
Kiril followed the man, palming the push dagger in his pocket. He gave a nod of thanks to the waiter as he walked through the back exit and softly closed the door when he spotted a Dark lounging against the corner of the building.
He walked up behind the Dark and plunged the dagger into his neck. The need for battle sat heavily on his chest, making Kiril long to shift and take to the sky, billowing ice and fire.
There would be no shifting, no air rushing along his scales. There was only darkness and evil, only rage and death. The Dark thought they could defeat the Kings. If Kiril had to take them out one at a time, he would prove that the Kings wouldn’t be defeated.
Kiril walked toward the front of the restaurant. He was nearly upon his foe when the Dark turned and saw him. The Dark instantly sent a ball of magic straight at Kiril, causing him to dive to the side. He came up on his knee as the dagger flew from his hand and embedded in the Dark’s chest.
He looked around, waiting for more Dark to attack. Kiril stood and retrieved his dagger, ducking into the shadows as humans came rushing out of the steakhouse at the sight of the dead Dark.
* * *
Shara smoothed her hands down the black gown that molded to her body like a second skin. The front draped becomingly at her breasts, showing just a hint of décolletage. Her hair was piled at the back of her head and fell in long, loose curls around her.
She looked in the mirror once more to check her makeup when she spotted Balladyn gazing at her in the mirror. Shara turned, surprised to see him since she hadn’t heard him enter.
Balladyn pushed away from the doorway and nodded in approval. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you for the dress,” she said, still nervous about being seen with him. It would cause an uproar in her family, but that’s not what she worried about.
It was Kiril. What if he was at the pub as he always was? Would she be able to ignore him, to pretend she didn’t know what his kisses tasted like, that she didn’t know how good it felt to have him deep within her?
Balladyn’s smile grew. “My pleasure. I enjoy giving you things.”
He had also changed into a black silk button-down shirt and black slacks. His hair was once more left down with only braids at his temples pulled back to keep it out of his eyes.
“Ready?”
He wanted a strong woman, so she couldn’t falter now no matter how frightened she was of the outcome. “Yes.”
She accepted his arm and walked from his chamber at his side. As soon as they descended into the great hall, Shara noticed that the cages filled with the humans were gone as were all the Dark lounging about. Dark soldiers—both male and female—filled the hall now.
“They’re for when the Dragon King is brought here. I’m not taking any chances,” Balladyn said.
“And Taraeth can’t afford to have another King escape his clutches.”
Balladyn gave a slight nod as they walked through the great hall and ten soldiers fell into step behind them. “There is that as well.”
“I don’t advise taking your men into the pub,” she said and glanced at them over her shoulder. “Farrell will attack you immediately.”
“I didn’t think your brother was that dumb.”
“He’s not usually, but he considers the pub his domain.”
“It’s about to be mine,” Balladyn stated as they reached the Fae door that would take them into the middle of Cork.
Shara took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway. Balladyn’s fortress faded as the sights and sounds of Cork filled her senses. The sun had set and the streetlights chased away the shadows. The pub was only a couple of streets over. She stood still while Balladyn directed his men to split up and surround an Doras.
While she walked with Balladyn to an Doras, her gaze darted about, hoping she didn’t see Kiril and wishing like hell that she did. Her heart thumped in her chest the closer they came to the pub. All she had wanted was to fit in with her family, but she learned too late that they wanted her to be something she wasn’t—something she couldn’t be.
They would never accept her for who she was, and nothing she did to prove her worthiness would be enough for them. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. Was it her love for her family that had blinded her to the truth?
More importantly, why couldn’t she have realized this when she was with Kiril?
Balladyn didn’t slow his steps as he reached the pub door. The Dark standing guard tripped over his feet to open the door for them. Everyone knew Balladyn and his reputation. No one dared to go against him in anything.
How this would infuriate Farrell.
Shara couldn’t wait to see the outcome. She raised her chin as they stepped inside the pub. The place went deathly quiet except for the music playing as talk ceased and all heads turned to them.
Balladyn merely smiled and guided her to the bar. He pulled out a chair for her and ordered them drinks. Shara didn’t want the wine he ordered for her, but he hadn’t asked her opinion.
He’d picked out the dress, told her how she would wear her hair, and ordered her drink. Was this a clue to how her life would be from now on? He wanted a woman who knew her mind, and she was going to give it to him.
Shara pushed the wineglass back to the bartender. “I’ll have a whisky.”
Balladyn’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned at her before the smile faded and he looked around the pub.
Her glass of whisky was set in front of her by a fearful bartender who kept looking at Balladyn. Everyone who worked at the pub was Dark. The only humans were the ones who dared to come in for a drink.
Balladyn glanced at her as he leaned one arm on the bar and kept the other on the back of her chair, caging her in. He winked at her, ignoring the bartender. The conversation throughout the pub gradually picked up again.
It didn’t take long for the news to reach Farrell in his office at the back. He threw open the door and met her gaze. There was a subtle shift in Balladyn when he took notice of Farrell.
Her brother strode angrily to her. Farrell nodded at Balladyn before he turned his red gaze to her. “Where have you been?”
“That’s none of your business,” Balladyn stated and took a sip of his whisky. “She doesn’t answer to you.”
The muscle in Farrell’s temple twitched, signaling his fury. “She’s my sister. It’s my business.”
“Not anymore,” Balladyn said calmly. “She’ll no longer answer to you or anyone else in her family. She’s mine.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Not two blocks from the steakhouse, Kiril found three Dark trailing him. It had taken over an hour, but with some help from a group of college students and a change of clothes he managed to get far enough away that they never saw
him jump to the roof of a building.
Kiril remained there long enough to determine that they didn’t know where he was. From there he made his way to an Doras. He smiled when he spotted them gathering outside an Doras talking hurriedly, their hands moving agitatedly as they spoke.
It never occurred to the idiots that he might show up at the pub. A few seconds later and the three split up again. None wanted to tell Farrell that they had lost him.
Kiril remained in the seclusion of the shadows in a narrow alley between two buildings, giving him a perfect view of the door of an Doras so he could see who was coming and going.
The sheer number of humans, especially females, who entered the club boggled his mind. As a Dragon King, he was sworn to protect mankind, but how could he when they could be so incredibly stupid?
Didn’t they sense the evil of the pub? Didn’t they notice how few females walked out of the pub unchanged in some way? Didn’t they think the red eyes weird?
It was times like these that made Kiril think Ulrik was right in wanting to wipe out the human race. They hadn’t wanted the protection of the Dragon Kings, had instead sought to kill the dragons.
And yet, time after time across the millennia, the Dragon Kings had kept the Earth safe and the humans from knowing the horrors that existed on other realms.
The Kings did it while hiding who they really were. If the humans discovered everything there would be few who thanked the Dragon Kings. Those few would be outnumbered by those wanting to kill or enslave the Kings, and still others who wanted to dissect them.
It made Kiril sick. To know the Dragon Kings had gone to such lengths—including sending their own dragons away—for the humans made him want to hit something. No human would ever understand what it had done to each Dragon King to watch the dragons fly through the Dragon Bridge to another realm.
There was a piece missing from each King, and had been since the dragons left. It was a piece that would remain lost until the Kings were reunited with the dragons. And that would never happen on Earth as long as the humans inhabited it.
Kiril didn’t hate humans. He felt nothing for them. The only ones he could tolerate were the females who had mated with other Dragon Kings.
Cassie, Elena, Jane, Denae, and Sammi were different than other humans. Their compassion was immense, their minds open to possibilities, and more than anything, each had risked her life for a Dragon King.
There wouldn’t be such a human female for him. Kiril knew it in the very depths of his soul. Other Dragon Kings like Rhys sought out the females for nothing more than to relieve their bodies, but Kiril was perfectly content to never have one in his bed.
His gaze sharpened on the pub when a Dark couple rushed out of the building, looking over their shoulders as they did. Just what was going on inside? Kiril intended to make his entrance eventually, and he was thinking the time was about right.
The sound of high-heeled shoes on the cobblestones pulled his attention from the pub. A woman with red hair in tight curls and a blue dress that barely covered her ass approached in a drunken stumble. He thought she might pass him by, because no one could see that deeply into the shadows. Yet the woman came straight to him.
“There you are,” she practically purred in a thick Irish accent. When she reached him, she rubbed her body against his side, her hands everywhere.
Kiril kept his arms at his sides and turned his head away. She would go away as soon as she realized he wanted nothing to do with her. “I think you have the wrong man.”
“I’m sure I don’t.”
He looked down at her to find that though her voice and actions were seductive, her gaze was sober and direct. “You found me. What do you want?”
“To give you a message.” She pulled his head down and kissed him.
The kiss was nice, but nothing that stirred him as Shara’s had. Kiril didn’t pull back as he let her lead the kiss. Everything so far had been for show by the human. He suspected the kiss was as well. Either way, his concentration on what was going on around him didn’t wane.
She ended the kiss and wrapped her arms tightly about his neck so her mouth was even with his ear. “Phelan says Balladyn is inside.”
“How interesting.” He tried to pull back, but she held tight.
“That’s not all. Balladyn isn’t alone. Shara is with him.”
Kiril’s gaze jerked to the door of an Doras. Balladyn and Shara? Is that where she’d been? With that bastard?
The woman released him and stepped back. “That’s all I have.”
“Thank you. I suggest you get out of the city tonight.”
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I see you looking at an Doras. I wouldn’t suggest going inside. That place is … wrong. Two of my friends went in. One we’ve never seen again, and that’s been six months ago. The other isn’t the same person she once was.”
“Why remain here then?”
She shrugged and hugged herself. “I stop as many people from going in as I can. I just thought I should warn you.”
Kiril considered the woman for a moment. Here was a human risking her life by urging others not to enter the pub. “If those running an Doras discover what you’re doing, they’re liable to kill you.”
“I know.”
“And you’re willing to risk it? Why?”
“Others should know. My friends didn’t, and look what happened to them. Maybe if someone had warned them they wouldn’t have gone into that place.”
If the Dark weren’t in Ireland, the woman wouldn’t feel the need to risk her life every day to save others. The Dark. They were a plague that had been allowed to breed in Ireland unchecked.
“I’m sorry,” Kiril said.
The woman cocked her head to the side, her curls shifting with her. “For what?”
“For letting evil multiply.”
“Evil is evil. It’s everywhere. It’s not your fault.”
How wrong she was. The blame lay with every Dragon King. The Fae Wars had gone on for thousands of years, and when the Dark and Light Fae finally admitted defeat and signed the treaty, the Kings had just wanted to get back to days that didn’t involve constant fighting.
Their apathy allowed the Dark to remain in Ireland, trusting the fiends to abide by the treaty. The Light had to some extent, but not the Dark. They always tried to find a way around things.
Kiril grabbed the woman’s arm when she went to turn around. “Go home tonight. Trust me. You doona want to be here.”
“Perhaps you should go home as well?”
“Oh I am. Verra soon.”
She smiled and slumped over as she stumbled drunkenly out of the alley, her act once more in place.
Kiril shook with rage. He had told Shara about Balladyn, had told her it was the Dark who took Rhi. She hadn’t said she didn’t know him. In fact, she had admitted to knowing who Balladyn was. He began to suspect that Shara had played him more than he’d realized. And damn it all, he still craved her touch.
Still longed to hold her.
Still hungered to fill her body.
“I heard Balladyn is in there,” a Dark male said as he rushed past the alley where Kiril hid.
A second Dark with him rubbed his hands together. “In Farrell’s place? This should be interesting. I never thought Farrell would be a good leader for us.”
The first punched the second in the arm. “Don’t be stupid and say those things out loud. The Blackwood family has a lot of allies.”
“And a lot of enemies.”
They two continued their conversation, but they were too far away for Kiril to hear the rest. It seemed that Balladyn’s appearance was causing quite the stir. Dark Fae from all over Cork were coming to an Doras.
“Oh, please let it be him,” said a whiney female voice coming closer with every word.
Kiril remained still as he focused on the conversation.
“It is,” said another female, with a husky voice. “I know it. He’s going to be mine.”
A third snorted. “I heard he’s found his woman.”
“Who?” demanded the second as they walked past the alley.
The first smiled excitedly. “Yes, who?”
“Farrell’s sister, Shara,” stated the third.
Kiril stopped listening. He wanted to rip something apart, to shift into dragon form and let loose a ball of fire right at the pub. So what if Shara was with Balladyn? He’d had one night with her. It hadn’t meant anything.
Liar.
* * *
“My father hasn’t given permission,” Farrell told Balladyn. “He’s head of the family and ultimately decides who Shara will marry. It won’t be you.”
Shara sipped her whisky. For the first time, she knew Farrell wasn’t going to win. And neither was her father. It was hard not to contain her joy or the smile that threatened. Would they feel as helpless as she had? Would they know the futile fury that nestled like a cold mass in their gut? She hoped so, especially when it came to Farrell. He was a weasel, a bastard of the first order.
“Is that right?” Balladyn said and faced Farrell. “You think you’re someone important because of your family.”
Farrell gloated, his smile cruel. “I know I am. No one goes against a Blackwood.”
“And who is Taraeth’s right hand? Who commands the respect of the Dark army? Who is undefeated?”
“That will change soon enough,” Farrell stated confidently.
Balladyn grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. In the short amount of time Shara had been with him, she knew it was a sign that he had almost reached his limit. Her brother, the dumbass, didn’t know that.
Farrell thumbed his nose at her. “Besides, I thought after what I told you about her that you would know enough to stay away. It’s a matter of time before I get to kill her.”
“How many others have you told your family’s secret to?” Balladyn asked in a quiet voice, belying the fury she could sense.
Farrell shrugged, uncaring that he was treading on thin ice.
Balladyn closed the small distance between them until he was glaring down at Farrell. “How. Many?”
“Enough to make sure that stupid bitch is forever alone.”