Fire Rising

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Tristan finished filling his brethren in on what had transpired with Ulrik—at least most of it—and why he had brought Sammi to the mountain.

There had been mixed reactions, but Tristan had expected as much. He left Rhys and Banan to hash out details of how Sammi and the wives would be protected. Tristan had been itching to see Sammi again, to touch her and simply hold her in his arms.

Not that he knew what to say to her. She looked at him differently, as if she knew the turmoil within him. Laith had assured him that she hadn’t been that upset at finding him gone, but a tiny voice inside Tristan told him that it had mattered a great deal to her.

He hadn’t set out to hurt her. He’d needed answers, some sort of direction in the storm that had become his life. And she was part of it. It wasn’t just the fierce, engulfing attraction—it was that somehow she released his memories.

Tristan wasn’t sure if he was ready to face those memories or not. Then there was Sammi herself. She was … incredible. Her eyes were enchanting, her kisses intoxicating.

Her body enthralling.

With one inviting smile he had been ensnared, entrapped. Entangled. She made his palms sweat, his heart race, and his blood burn.

Tristan paused and scrubbed a hand down his face. His hands ached to touch her, but there were more pressing matters than slaking his lust, like keeping her out of the hands of the Dark.

The Dark. He hadn’t fought them in the Fae Wars. In fact the only battles he had been in with the other Kings were with the Warriors and Druids. Yet he knew enough about the dragon he was and the others to know that they were powerful and effective.

The Dark—all of the Fae, really—had lost in the Fae Wars. The Kings hadn’t been able to keep them out of the realm, but they were able to confine them. Even that was coming unraveled.

It’s like there was some potent force whose single interest was blocking or collapsing all the Kings had done. It couldn’t be Ulrik. His magic was taken from him. And this would have to be magic in order to fight against something as prevailing as dragon magic.

Ulrik had said he would stop the attack on Sammi if Tristan joined him. He wasn’t afraid of the Dark. He was afraid of what they would do to Sammi.

Tristan leaned against the tunnel wall and hung his head. Ulrik offered an easy solution to the problem at hand. But if he left Dreagan to join Ulrik, Tristan knew he would be banished.

Con could try to take his magic and prevent him from shifting into dragon form, just as he had done with Ulrik. Tristan didn’t even contemplate spying on Ulrik. Ulrik would expect that and have countermeasures in place.

“Shite,” Tristan growled.

He couldn’t believe he was even contemplating such a drastic decision. If it had been any other mortal he wouldn’t, but Sammi wasn’t just anyone.

The idea of the Dark on Dreagan left a bad taste in his mouth. Dreagan was special, sacred. If the Dark wanted a war, then he would give it to them. If they wanted to take a King and any mortal connected to them, then he would take them in return.

He straightened and continued on to the chamber he had left Sammi in. He needed to see her, hold her, touch her—even if it meant more memories surfaced. Because right now, she was the center of the storm, the calm in all the chaos.

Tristan rounded the corner and stepped into the chamber as he called out, “Sammi.”

There was no answer, and a quick look around the small chamber showed she was nowhere in sight. Tristan whirled around and ran back into the corridor as he looked one way and then the other.

He ran to his right, glancing into each entrance. When he didn’t find her he circled back around, knocking into anyone who got in his way until he arrived back at the chamber.

Tristan was breathing hard, his mind refusing to believe what he knew had somehow occurred—Sammi was gone. She had left the mountain, Dreagan.

Him.

He let out a bellow and grabbed the chair as he threw it against the wall. It splintered into pieces, fabric hanging and crumpling as it crashed to the floor.

But that did nothing to ease his fury. Tristan backhanded the items atop the table before kicking the table itself and sending it to the same fate as the chair.

Before he could do more damage his arms were pulled behind him and held tightly.

“Easy,” Laith said. “That was my iPad.”

Tristan jerked against the grip. “Release me. Now.”

“No’ until you tell us what the hell is going on,” Rhys said as he came around to stand in front of him.

“Look around. It’s obvious.”

Rhys’s face twisted into a confused mask. “What’s obvious is that you ruined my favorite chair.”

Tristan gave another yank and pulled an arm free. He swung around, his fist aimed for Laith’s face when he was once more stopped. He jerked his head around to find who had grabbed his arm and found himself staring into Banan’s storm-gray eyes.

There was a soft gasp behind Banan as Jane stepped into the room. Her gaze shifted to Tristan. “Where is she?”

“Gone.”

Banan released him. “Fuck!”

“I gather you mean Sammi?” Rhys asked.

Tristan nodded. “I’ve searched the entire mountain.”

“It’s my fault.” Jane lifted eyes filled with tears. “I came to see her. She was upset, and I made the mistake of letting it slip about how we learned who was after her.”

It felt as if a wrecking ball slammed into Tristan’s gut. “You told her how I got the information.”

Jane nodded and sidled closer to Banan. “She was furious.”

“But why leave?” Laith said. “I told her the Dark was coming for her.”

“I don’t think she believed it,” Jane said and wiped at her eyes before tucking her auburn hair behind her ears.

Banan gathered her in his arms. “We’ll find Sammi, sweetheart.”

“I hate to bring this up, but Con is going to lose his shit when he learns all of this,” Rhys pointed out.

Tristan made a sound at the back of his throat. “Fuck Con.”

“I’d rather you didna,” Con said as he stepped into the chamber.

Tristan shoved past them all and ran to the back of the mountain. As soon as he reached the cavern, he shifted and flew out of the same opening that Laith had brought Sammi through just hours before.

He had to find her.

Because if he couldn’t, he might very well be joining Ulrik.

Rhys sighed as he watched Tristan race out of the room. He knew exactly where Tristan was going, because he would do the same thing if he were in Tristan’s place.

“What the hell is going on?” Con demanded.

Laith kicked at a piece of the broken table. “I brought Sammi here.”

“What?” Con thundered, his black eyes narrowing in anger.

Rhys had expected just such an outburst. “It’s no’ like Tristan had a choice, no’ after Ulrik told him the Dark Ones were going to attack on Dreagan tonight in order to take Sammi.”

Con’s gaze swung to him, his nostrils flaring. “First Banan goes to Ulrik, and then Tristan does.”

“You’ve got it backward,” Banan said as he kissed Jane on the forehead and gave her a little shove out of the room. He waited until she had turned the corner before he faced Con. “I did go to Ulrik, but it was Ulrik who contacted Tristan.”

All of Con’s ire deflated as shock took him. “He … contacted Tristan?”

Rhys nodded. “That was pretty much our reactions as well. Turns out Ulrik wants Tristan to join his ranks. He offered to stop the attack if Tristan did just that.”

“Is that where Tristan is going?”

Laith snorted. “Nay. He’ll try and find Sammi first. But after that, I’m no’ so sure. They have chemistry, those two.”

A muscle ticked in Constantine’s jaw. “Mates?”

“Maybe,” Banan said.

Rhys crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever is between Tristan and Sammi isna the point right now.”

“You’re right.” Con looked at each of them. “The point is that Ulrik dared to contact one of us.”

Laith’s eyebrows shot up. “Dared? He’s one of us, Con.”

“He’s banished. Doona forget that.”

As if Con would let them. Rhys was as surprised as any of them that Ulrik had chosen now to contact them, and even more shocked that he had chosen Tristan. What were his motives?

Tristan was the newest King. He was strong, able, and powerful, but then so were all the Kings. The only advantage was that Tristan hadn’t been involved in the past and all the horrible consequences. He was new to their world and their troubles, and he hadn’t taken a side.

Not exactly. He had been delivered to Dreagan, and that’s where he remained. But if he had to make a choice between Dreagan and Ulrik, Rhys wasn’t sure which he would pick.

He hadn’t lied to Tristan. Con had made mistakes. Hell, they all had, and they had to live with them. They shouldn’t have killed Ulrik’s woman, but Ulrik had given them no choice when he attacked the humans.

Ulrik had sworn vengeance on Con all those long years ago. Was the debt finally being called due?

“This is easily ended,” Con said calmly from the doorway. “I kill Ulrik.”

Rhys, Laith, and Banan exchanged a look.

“He’s a King,” Banan said. “Enough of us have died.”

Con glanced around the room at the destruction. “Ulrik has caused enough trouble. I doona want to lose another King, but he’s no’ been one of us in a verra long time. He’s out to reveal us to the world, all the while fracturing us from within.”

“Aye,” Laith said softly. “He’s doing just that. But I willna be a part of his killing. We’ve taken enough away from him.”

“Look what he’s doing to us,” Con said as he spread out his arms. “Our ordered lives are turned upside down. We’re fighting mortals who are sneaking onto our land, and let’s no’ forget our favorite enemies, the Dark. They’re back. Do you remember the Fae Wars, Laith? Because I recall them all too vividly.”

Banan picked up the shattered iPad. “There has to be another way to stop Ulrik than death.”

“Like what?” Con asked. “You want to hold him prisoner with his Silvers?”

Rhys shrugged. “Maybe that’s what we need to do. You knew letting him live back then would bring about this day. You knew he would scheme to kill you, to take away everything you hold dear.”

“Which is Dreagan and the unity of the Kings,” Laith said.

Con calmly slid his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks. “He was my best friend. I couldna kill him then.”

“But you can now?” Banan asked.

Con nodded. “Aye. I’ll kill him as I should’ve done to begin with, and then we go about unknotting his network. We’ll return to the life we’ve had for centuries.”

“That’s no’ possible no matter if we kill Ulrik or no’,” Rhys said. “MI5 knows of us. No matter what precautions we take using Banan’s friend Henry North or even Guy’s ability to erase memories, we’ll miss something.”

Con lifted one shoulder, his face set. “It’s better than what’s coming if we do nothing. Doona kid yourself into thinking Ulrik will allow himself to be taken.”

“There’s one other option to keep Tristan with us. We need Broc,” Laith said.

Rhys couldn’t believe he’d forgotten about the Warrior. Broc could find anyone, anywhere. “What are we waiting for? Get him on the phone.”

“Already on it,” Banan said as he pulled out his mobile.

Rhys met Con’s gaze. The battle everyone had dreaded between Ulrik and Con was coming. And this time Ulrik had no magic, no ability to shift into dragon form to fight his former friend.

This time Con would end Ulrik for good.