Fire Rising

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Tristan had never felt so edgy or touchy. Nor had he ever felt so damned helpless. At least not that he could remember.

No matter how many times he flew over all sixty thousand acres of Dreagan, he couldn’t find any sign of Sammi. Which left only one option—she had left Dreagan.

He couldn’t understand why. Didn’t she realize how perilous things were? Didn’t she comprehend just how easily the Dark could get to her?

She didn’t. He’d made sure of that by protecting her from all of it. He hadn’t wanted to scare her, but that’s exactly what he should have done.

It’s exactly what he would do once he found her.

Tristan ignored the persistent calls of the other Kings to talk with him. He needed to be alone. All his hope had been in finding Sammi and doing everything he could to convince her to return.

The knowledge that he was the one that sent her running left him reeling. He had wanted to keep his distance from her, sure, but with her gone now, he was left with a cold, dark place inside him.

Tristan dipped a wing and circled back toward the manor. He’d wasted enough time searching Dreagan.

As he neared Dreagan, he saw a figure standing outside the back entrance to the mountain. Constantine. Tristan should have known the King of Kings would want more answers.

He thought back to what Ulrik had said about Con. The truth was, Tristan didn’t know Con or Ulrik. He hadn’t witnessed their dispute to take sides then or now. The one thing Tristan did know was that he would have to make a decision sooner or later.

The land rose up quickly as Tristan dove toward the ground. He waited until the last minute before he shifted into human form and tucked his head to roll. He stopped on his feet and slowly stood to face Con.

Without a word, Con threw him a pair of jeans. As usual, Con showed only the calm, collected man that he wanted everyone to think he was. He was a fool if he thought everyone believed that’s what he was.

Tristan knew because that’s what he’d been showing them since the moment he arrived on Dreagan, naked in the snow. But inside, he was a mass of anxiety, dread, uncertainty, and confusion.

Con’s calm was as solid as ice. Inside must be something deep and dark.

“Banan put a call into Fallon.”

Tristan frowned as he finished buttoning his jeans. “Fallon MacLeod? Why would we pull the Warriors in?”

“Because Fallon is the one who teleported Broc here.”

Now the Warriors’ involvement made sense. Broc was going to use the power of the god inside him to find anyone, anywhere. At least they would locate Sammi quickly enough.

“Has he found her yet?”

Con turned and walked into the mountain. “He and Fallon just arrived. I’m sure by the time we reach them he will have.”

Tristan lengthened his strides. Fallon and Broc were inside the manor in a front room along with Banan, Jane, Rhys, and Laith. Broc stood bent over, his hands on a table with his eyes closed as if he were in great concentration.

Jane sat looking ill while Banan hovered near her. Rhys stood with his arms crossed over his chest as he lazily looked around the room. Laith reclined on a sofa, his eyes glued to Broc.

Banan took notice of Tristan and immediately walked to him. “I tried to let you know,” he whispered.

Tristan shrugged. All that mattered was finding Sammi. And praying she wasn’t already in the clutches of the Dark Ones.

Rhys’s mobile went off with Metallica’s “Sandman” blaring, the sound a boom in the silence of the room. He answered it quickly with a soft, “Aye.”

His gaze jerked to Broc’s at the same time Broc’s eyes opened. In unison they said, “Sammi is at Charon’s.”

Rhys disconnected the call and stuffed his mobile in his pocket. “That was Charon. Sammi is with them at the pub. Along with Ian and Dani.”

Every eye in the room turned to Tristan.

“You doona have to go,” Laith said as he fluidly jumped to his feet.

Fallon lifted a brow. “You came to the castle looking for Ian yesterday. Why would you no’ see him now?”

“Well, well,” Rhys said with a chuckle. “You’re full of constant surprises, Tristan.”

Jane got to her feet and asked Rhys, “Is there any sign of the Dark? What about mortals after her? Is she in danger?”

“She’s fine or Charon wouldna have called,” Banan told her. “Let us go get her and bring her here.”

Con hadn’t moved from the doorway. “If she’s safe at Charon’s, perhaps that’s where she should remain.”

“Because the thought that she could be my mate is too repulsive, aye?” Tristan asked him.

Black eyes as bottomless as the sea shifted to him. “If that was the case, Banan, Hal, Guy, and Kellan wouldna be mated.”

“But it’s true. You doona want us with humans.”

“It’s true. That’s never been a secret. After what happened with Ulrik, I want to protect everyone from the mortals.”

“And the Fae? What about Rhi?”

At the mention of the Light, anger shot through Con’s gaze. “You know nothing of which you speak.”

“Enough!” Banan shouted.

Rhys gave a snort and meandered his way to Tristan’s side. “If Tristan is to be with us, he needs to know everything.”

Tristan met Con’s stare for several long, tense minutes. He couldn’t sense what Con was after.

“Tell me,” Con said. “How did Ulrik contact you?”

He frowned, taken aback by the question. “As any King would. Telepathically.”

“Impossible,” Con stated firmly. “His magic was taken from him, Tristan. He could no sooner speak to any King or dragon through our mind link than he could shift into dragon form.”

“It was telepathically,” Tristan insisted. “I was flying.”

Laith scratched his chin, his gaze thoughtful. “Ulrik was always a crafty one when things called for it. He could’ve gotten some of his magic back.”

“Then why has he no’ spoken to his Silvers?” Con asked. “Communicating with our dragons is the first thing we would try.”

Broc asked, “Who says he hasna?”

“Because the Silvers would wake,” Rhys explained.

“You have dragons here?” Fallon asked, wide-eyed.

Con’s nostrils flared as he huffed out a breath. “A precaution after our war with the humans. They were killing every human they could find.”

“We stopped them and caged them,” Banan said.

Laith nodded stiffly. “After we sent the other dragons away.”

“Shit,” Broc mumbled.

Rhys’s smile was wide, but lacked any humor. “Exactly.”

Tristan faced Con. If what Con said was true, then how had Ulrik made that mental link work? And what did that mean for the Dragon Kings? “Are you sure he couldna use the link?”

“Absolutely.”

Trepidation rippled down his spine to settle coldly in his gut. Was it coincidence that Ulrik contacted him after he slept with Sammi? Was Ulrik spying on them just as the Kings spied on Ulrik?

The thought that his night with Sammi had been intruded upon by someone made him furious. That night was special in so many ways. It was meant to be private, shared only between him and Sammi.

“Are you sure it was Ulrik?” Laith asked.

It took Tristan a moment to realize Laith directed the question at him. “Aye.” Then he paused as he thought back to their conversation. “He asked if I knew who it was. I said Ulrik.”

“Did he acknowledge who he was?” Con asked.

Tristan slowly shook his head. “I can no’ remember him conceding it, nay.”

“Who else could it be but Ulrik?” Jane questioned.

Broc cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. “This does sound like a problem, but a more pressing one awaits.”

Sammi. Tristan wanted to go to her and try to explain why he had used his power to pull the information from her. But he would have to face Ian. It was something he needed to do anyway.

Tristan bowed his head to Broc. “Aye. I’ll fetch Sammi. If she’ll even return.”

“The Dark can’t get her,” Jane beseeched. “Sammi is defiant. They’ll break her.”

Not if Tristan had anything to say about it. “I’ll bring her back, Jane,” he vowed.

“Then let’s get moving,” Fallon said.

Tristan was turning to go back to the mountain when Fallon’s words stopped him. “Excuse me?”

“You need to get there fast, aye?”

Tristan glanced at Rhys and nodded. “Aye.”

“You can fly,” Fallon said with a sly grin. “But I can jump you there quicker.”

By jumping he meant teleporting. Tristan began to smile. “All right. Let’s go.”

Rhys moved to Fallon’s other side. “I’m going as well.”

Tristan raised a brow at Rhys, wondering what his friend was up to.

“Think of me as your wingman,” Rhys said with a wink.

Con motioned to the others. “We’ll be on alert and patrolling for the Dark. Get back here as quick as you can. I’ve no desire to have any more of us in Ireland.”

“Jump us to a spot outside the pub,” Tristan told Fallon. “I want to make sure there are no Dark around.”

Fallon gave a nod and then placed his hands on Tristan and Rhys. In the space of a blink, the three of them stood in an alley across the street from a pub.

Tristan had never been to Ferness before, but he knew instantly the Knight’s Bridge pub was Charon’s. The building stood three stories tall with numerous windows to allow in light.

“They’re on the second floor,” Fallon said. “That’s Charon’s office.”

Rhys rubbed his hands together. “Let’s have a look around.”

A Fae could remain veiled for a few seconds, and only a handful like Rhi could stay veiled for long periods of time. Tristan knew that if a Dark was about, it would be visible to everyone.

“The really powerful ones can mask their appearance,” Rhys cautioned before he turned and went to the left.

It didn’t take long for the three of them to make a round of the small village. When they met back up at the alley, Phelan was there waiting for them. Somehow, Tristan wasn’t surprised.

“I’ve been keeping watch. So far no Dark,” he told them.

Tristan felt little relief. The Dark were a nuisance and trouble he didn’t want, but the real issues were on the second floor of the building he stared at.

His lover and his twin.

They were both inside waiting for him.

What would he say to Ian? What could he say to a twin brother he didn’t remember?

And Sammi? How did he even begin to explain what he had done? Would she even listen?

“Time’s a wastin’,” Rhys said.

Phelan grinned as he stepped in front of them. “As a precaution, I’ll make sure we’re no’ seen.”

“Too bad that little trick didna work in those tunnels in Ireland,” Tristan said.

“Kiss my ass, Dragon,” Phelan said, but there was a smile on his face.

The four hurried across the street and into the pub without worry of being seen thanks to Phelan’s power to alter everyone’s reality. Tristan didn’t have time to think about what was coming as he followed Phelan up the stairs and through a door.

Before he knew it, he was standing in an office. Sammi sat next to Ian, laughing at something he’d said.

Rage, sinister and demanding, ripped through him like lightning. He took a step toward them as Rhys held him back. And then Sammi’s glorious powder blue eyes met his.