Celtic Dragon: Knights of Silence MC Book 3

by Amy Cecil

  What bloggers are saying about

  Celtic Dragon

  Knights of Silence MC – Book III

  by

  Amy Cecil

  Amy Cecil hits home with family and the lengths we will go to protect them. Rebel hasn’t been home to Ireland in many years, but now it’s time to defend his family and his country. Knights of Silence MC – Celtic Dragon will leave you breathless.

  - Alicia Reads Book Blog

  A unique story that blends the past with the present into a world few get to see. Family is more than blood, it’s those who have your back through thick and thin.

  - Black Feather Blogger

  Celtic Dragon is a fast-paced rescue mission with drama, heat, and high-intensity moments that have you racing to find out what is going to happen. The relationship between Emma and Ice is emotional and hot; the scenes between them are scorching.

  - Rae’s Reading Lounge

  Amy Cecil throws the readers back into the Knights of Silence MC series with Celtic Dragon picking up right where ICE on Fire left off. Celtic Dragon contains even more heart-pumping drama in regards to dealing with the IRA. You can tell that Amy Cecil researched everything she needed to in order to give her readers a real life experience within the story. One of the most important aspects that I loved was the character development. The multiple viewpoints of the characters seemed to have perfect balance against the thrill of the story! If you are ready for an electrifying book with sex, motorcycles and mind-blowing twists that will leave you breathless, then you need this series in your life!

  - BAMM PR & Blog Services

  Trouble in Ireland? The Knights of Silence and their women to the rescue. Exhilarating!

  - Leave Me Be I’m Reading Blog

  Loved this book!! Filled with drama, brotherhood, and love. I could not put it down. I can’t wait to see what Ms. Cecil writes next.

  - E&A Book Blog

  Celtic Dragon

  Knights of Silence MC

  Book III

  CELTIC DRAGON - Knights of Silence MC Book III –Amy Cecil

  Copyright © 2018 Amy Cecil

  All Rights Reserved in accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. The scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use materials from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the author.

  FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison along with a fine of $250,000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental or used in a fictitious manner. The author acknowledges all song titles, film titles, film characters and novels mentioned in this book are the property of and belong to their respective owners.

  Any views expressed in this book are fictitious and not necessarily the views of the author.

  Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Book cover design and layout by Ellie Bockert Augsburger of Creative Digital Studios. www.CreativeDigitalStudios.com

  Cover design features: Muscular man with shirt on shoulder by tverdohlib / Adobe Stock

  Editing Services provided by Carl Augsburger of Creative Digital Studios. www.CreativeDigitalStudios.com

  ISBN- 13: 978-1720782124

  ISBN- 10: 1720782121

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my dear friends in Ireland,

  Willie and Fiona Haughton

  O m’anam

  (from the heart)

  Foreword

  Brotherhood. Loyalty. The inseverable ties in a Motorcycle Club fascinates us, doesn’t it?

  Loyalty is one of the strongest representations of love there is. Maybe that’s why as romance readers, we love to read about a biker hero. If he gives so much unwavering loyalty to his MC brethren, is willing to take a bullet for them, imagine the unshakeable foundation of love for the woman he chooses as his?

  Caden and Emma’s relationship was solid from page one of this series, even if Emma went years without knowing it. Even if Ice tried to push her away, the pull of what they had was too strong. He was Ice, but for her he was always Caden at his core. Loving her. Protecting her. Wanting her.

  His fierce protectiveness to Emma and his loyalty, as Prez, to his MC brothers is evident in everything that he does, and that’s what has earned him such a strong Book Boyfriend following.

  If you’ve loved this series thus far, this next book?

  You can’t buckle in to get ready for a wild ride on the back of a Harley. All you can do is wrap your arms around the middle of Ice, Rebel, Hawk, or one of the other guys and hang on tight as they take you on a journey fraught with tension, emotion, danger, and panty-melting steaminess. Not to worry… the Knights of Silence will keep you safe.

  DD Prince

  Author of the Beautiful Biker Series

  Prologue

  August 1969

  Draco Corrigan

  As darkness envelops Belfast, the Irish city that I love with a passion, I am reminded why I am here. Belfast should be governed by the Irish. But it is not. It is governed by England. My country has fought for its independence from England for hundreds of years. And although we, the Irish Republicans, have fought and bled for our country, a portion still remains under British rule.

  It was the Easter Rising in 1916 that was a major turning point for our cause. Even though the uprising failed and fifteen of our leaders were executed for their crimes against the crown, it changed the mood of the country. We finally began to see the sympathy of the general population switch in our favor.

  After the rising, we launched a three-year guerrilla war led by Michael Collins and his twelve so-called apostles. Assassins are a better term for them. With more bloodshed and countless lives lost, the war ended in July 1921 with a treaty negotiated by Collins that gave two-thirds of Ireland (26 out of 32 counties) their independence from the United Kingdom. It was a major victory for us, but we still lost a third of our country to Britain. So even though there was a treaty, the conflict between Ireland and England continued.

  Sitting here in the shadows of the rooftop that aligns the deserted street that I have been assigned to patrol, I become lost in my thoughts. Nobody’s out on the streets, and I start to feel that this mission is a waste of time. Forgetting the potential danger that surrounds me, I light a cigarette. Just as I am about to bring it to my mouth, a bullet hits the roof about a foot from where I’m hiding.

  “Bloody hell,” I mumble to myself. “I’m so fuckin’ stupid! I let the quiet of the night get the best of me. I fucking know better.” My cover has been blown, but at least I was wrong about this mission being a waste. I realize that I need to move and move fast. Scanning my surroundings, I spot a chimneystack that stands not more than five feet from me. If I can get there unharmed, it will provide me the cover I need to shoot back. And when I shoot, I know I won’t miss. I’m an expert marksman, which is why I have been assigned this post. As another bullet whizzes past me, I realize that if I don’t move now, I’m gonna end up dead.

  As I rapidly make my way across the roof, another bullet comes flying toward me and grazes my shoulder before I make it to the chimney for cover. Fuck! It’
s time to take back control. I place my hat on my rifle barrel and wave it in the air. Three bullets hit my hat while I watch and determine the source of the gunfire. I inspect the holes, a bit disappointed. That was my favorite hat.

  Maintaining my cover, I cock my rifle and aim at a window in a building across the street. This is for my father. My enemy falls forward onto the ground. Before the other two gunmen can react, I aim my second shot at a shadow in the darkness on the rooftop of that same building. This is for my grandfather. The enemy falls to his death on the ground below. I quickly aim the last shot at an armed figure walking up and down Belfast Street—another enemy. This is for all that we have lost at the hands of the British. Within seconds all three bodies lay motionless on the ground.

  I suspect that there were only three snipers; I wave my hat in the air just to make sure. Nothing, just what I thought. Relieved that I have accomplished my mission, I take my flask from my pocket. Looking down at my hand, I realize that I am shaking. Perhaps my fear is more prevalent this time than in the past. Unsettled by my uneasiness, I greedily take a gulp of the whiskey and hope that it will calm me. I can’t afford mistakes in this line of work, and this one almost cost me my life. I was careless. I can’t afford to let myself get that close to death again.

  Sometimes I think that if we as a country were happy about the treaty that gave us two-thirds of our country, things might be different. But unfortunately, that isn’t the case. My family has fought this war for as long as I can remember. My father and my grandfather and their fathers gave their lives for Ireland. Years of lives lost for what? A cause? It’s a cause that I am convinced will get us nowhere.

  I think about what I have done with my life. I think about what I put my wife through every time I leave the house for a mission. I see the worry on her face grow deeper and deeper each time. My children are still young, but is this the life I want for them when they are adults? Do I want my son creeping along rooftops in the dead of night? Do I want my daughter nursing wounded rebels who fight for the cause?

  The answers flood my mind. These are things I never really thought about before. I was programmed to follow the family and I did what my father did. But now, it is so clear. I will not give my life, or my children’s lives, anymore.

  My work is done here. I climb down from the roof and begin my walk home.

  In the days that followed my abandonment of the cause, Belfast was racked with the most intense and violent riots the city had ever known. The British Army was deployed to restore order to Northern Ireland. Peace lines were built to separate the two sides. These events marked the beginning of the thirty-year conflict in Ireland known as the Troubles.

  The next morning, I and my wife Fiona arrive at the port of Belfast with our two children, Ace and Aillise. Once we enter the terminal, I can’t help but notice the headlines on the papers displayed at the newsstand.

  British Troops Sent Into Northern Ireland

  Death on Night of Bloody Violence

  Although I am tempted to purchase a paper, I force myself to walk by. Ireland’s problems are no longer mine or my family’s.

  Chapter 1

  Caden

  Present Day

  Nocht se a ghra di de chogar

  He breathed his love for her …

  “Belfast? What the fuck, Rebel? I just fucking got home and you’re telling me I have to leave. Have you lost your mind, brother?”

  “That call was from my brother, Damon. My parents are missing. Actually, they’ve been missing for a couple of weeks now, but those fuckers decided to wait until now to tell me,” Rebel replies.

  “Missing?” I ask. Either I’m a stupid fuck and he’s being perfectly clear, or he is rambling. Either way, I am not following him. Were they abducted, kidnapped? Who would want to kidnap Rebel’s parents? What the hell am I not getting here? So I ask again, “You need to explain. What the fuck do you mean they’re missing?”

  He continues to ramble on. He fucking needs to slow down, keep calm, and tell me what the fuck is going on.

  “Rebel!” I yell. “Stop and take a fucking breath! I can’t help you if you don’t slow down.”

  He continues to ramble. Fucking A. I move over to him and grab him by the collar. I shake him to get his attention, and he suddenly stops speaking and glares at me. Once he realizes that I did what I did to get him to focus, he finally speaks.

  “Shit, sorry Ice, I’m just pissed off right now. I’m all over the place. My fucking brothers.” He takes a deep breath and then explains, “My parents are heavily involved in the Real Irish Republican Army—the Real IRA. As a matter a fact, our entire family is involved.”

  What the fuck? Did he just say ‘our’ family? I know now is not the time to ask him about this, but … fuck, Rebel, I just got home. He can’t make a reference like that and not back it up. I’ve had enough family surprises lately to last a lifetime, but I have a suspicion that the hits are gonna keep coming.

  Rebel continues, “The IRA has waged campaign after campaign in Northern Ireland to bring about a united Ireland. Members of our family have attacked many security forces with guns, bombs, grenades, mortars, and rockets. We’re also responsible for multiple bombings in Northern Ireland and England with the sole purpose to cause economic harm or disruption. It has become our family mission. After the 2009 attack on Massereene Barracks, in which my father killed two British soldiers, my world began to change drastically. My parents wanted me out of Ireland and away from the IRA.

  “Things became more dangerous. Both of my older brothers were part of the cause and were just as involved as Mam and Da were. They said they loved me enough to let me go … and that’s what they did. As soon as I was of legal age, they sent me here to live with my uncle in the States, but when I got here I’d found out that he’d been killed.” He stops for a moment, letting his words settle.

  Making the connection, I realize that Rebel came here to see Ace. Ace was killed. Ace was his uncle. Now the whole ‘our family’ remark earlier makes sense. Rebel and I are cousins. Holy fuck!

  “What are your parent’s names?” I ask.

  “Aillise and Connor O’Byrne,” he replies.

  As I’m still trying to get over the whole family connection shit, I realize something. My blood pressure begins to rise and suddenly I’m not seeing things clearly. That fucker! He’s dating my sister. Why that … But just as I am about to lay into him, I realize that Ari isn’t his cousin. Ari isn’t related to Ace at all. Fuck … for a minute there I was ready to kill the son of a bitch for fucking around with my sister. Damn! I’m too old for this shit.

  “So we’re related?” I ask.

  “Yep, you’re my older cousin. Ace and my mom are brother and sister,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “And you didn’t think this was something that I should know?” I pause and then say, “Never mind what I should know, don’t you think this is something I would want to know?” I can’t believe that he never told me this.

  “I wanted to tell you so many times, but it just never seemed like the right time,” he says.

  “The right time?” I ask incredulously. “Fuck, Rebel, there is never a right time. But you are my SA, my friend, and my brother … and you never said a word.”

  He lowers his head, knowing that I’m right. “I’m sorry, Ice. I owe you more than that.”

  “Damn straight you do. Is there anything more I need to know?”

  “No, not anything that I know about.”

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

  Everyone in the room is listening to our conversation in disbelief. But Ari is the most surprised—she looks shocked by the news. I’m sure she’s thinking the same thing that I did a few minutes ago, but she’ll get it eventually. Just like I did.

  I turn to Rebel and say, “I’ll call church tomorrow. You get me all the facts and we’ll lay it on the table for the club. We’ll decide what to do from there.” Rebel nods.

  Well, it looks like I’m fuck
ing going to Ireland. While everyone is hanging around chatting, I decide to get things moving. I step outside to make my first call to Willie Hayden. Willie runs an export company out of Erie. I’m pretty sure that he exports to Ireland. Hopefully he will have planes leaving the States going to Ireland. Even if he could only get us to Dublin, I imagine the drive isn’t too far to Belfast. I’m sure we can secure some bikes in Dublin if that is the case. And it would sure beat paying for airline tickets. Besides, he owes me a favor.

  My conversation with Willie goes well. He has a transport leaving Buffalo on Friday. That’s only an hour and forty-minute drive from here. That can work. It also gives me some time to find out what we are walking into, to get shit in order, and to spend a few days with my girl.

  Next call is to Hawk. He answers on the first ring.

  “What’s up, Ice?” he asks.

  “You busy tonight?”

  “Nope. Whatcha need?”

  I look at my watch: 10:30 pm. Fuck, it’s later than I thought. The guy has been running nonstop since everything happened with Emma and Brianne. I think I’ll let him have tonight to himself. “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. Can you meet me at Betty’s in the morning? Early, say 8ish?”

  “Sure, Prez. What’s going on?”

  “Reb’s family in Ireland is in trouble. It looks like I’m gonna have to leave town for a while and I need to go over some things with you. I’ll fill you in on everything in the morning.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need me to come by tonight? I can,” he says, and I detect a little bit of desperation in his voice, as if he wants to come over tonight. Odd. Then I remember that Honey is staying at my house. Sly little fucker!