Fire Rising

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

It took every ounce of Tristan’s considerable control not to shift into dragon form and ram the cottage. For one, he could injure Sammi, but there was also the fact he needed to confuse the Dark Ones.

He kicked open the back door and stormed into the house to see Rhi and a Dark One in hand-to-hand battle. Every time he tried to use magic, she knocked it aside. Every time she reached for her sword, he kicked it out of reach.

Tristan’s gaze swung to Ian, who had Sammi behind him while he faced five Dark who were inching toward him, lobbing magic.

With Ian’s ability to sense magic as a Warrior, he was able to warn Sammi in time to keep them both from getting hit.

No one had noticed Tristan yet, and he had a difficult time deciding whether to announce his presence as he had planned or rush to Sammi’s side. He hated that she was surrounded by the Dark, but if everything worked out, that wouldn’t be for long.

“Someone looking for me?” he bellowed.

The five Dark surrounding Ian and Sammi turned their heads to him before looking confused. His gut wrenched when Sammi’s gaze shifted to him and he saw the stark fear reflected in her depths.

He wanted to take her into his arms and fly her far from the danger within. How foolish for him to believe he could handle seeing her in such a predicament in order to save her. How utterly wrong he had been to think he would be calm in such a situation.

It had been a rash, reckless idea. He was wound as tightly as a drum, every fiber of his being sizzling with the need to shift into dragon form and defend Sammi as only he could.

The five Dark continued to look from him to Ian and back. At least they were no longer attacking. Rhi and her assailant had yet to pause, though she did glance at him and begin to laugh.

It was the laugh that caused her foe to grab her by the neck and slam her against a wall, but Tristan knew Rhi was anything but subdued or helpless.

The Dark Fae’s red eyes turned from Rhi to him before sliding over to Ian. “What is this?” he demanded.

“I’m Tristan,” Ian said. “How dare you come onto Dreagan.”

Tristan stepped forward. “Nay. I’m Tristan. You’ll answer to me for trespassing on Dreagan and breaking the treaty.”

Rhi kept laughing, though there was anything but mirth shining in her silver eyes. “I think you’ve got yourself into a quandary, Balladyn.”

“I’ve been in many, pet. I’ll get out of this one too.”

“Not going to happen.” All the laughter was gone. Rhi’s voice was hard and cold, determined.

Tristan shared a look with Ian. Rhys, Banan, Laith, Con, Phelan, and Charon were waiting for his signal to storm the cottage. There was no way the Dark were leaving with anyone.

Balladyn roughly squeezed Rhi’s neck, but she never stopped glowering at him. Rhi knew this Dark Fae, and knew him well. There seemed to be endless secrets to Rhi.

“Who’ll be the first to answer to me?” Tristan demanded.

Balladyn let out a low, gravelly growl that stopped a Dark in his tracks. He set his red gaze on Tristan. “How are there two of you? What kind of magic is this?”

“No magic,” Ian said. He pointed to Tristan. “I doona know who that is. I’ll be the one to take your life though.”

Tristan gave a derisive snort. “I’ll be the one killing him. I am a Dragon King after all.”

Balladyn’s gaze then focused on Sammi. “We take them all and sort it out later.”

“No need,” one of the other Dark said. “The Kings always have a tattoo of a dragon.”

Balladyn’s smile was cold and ruthless. “Take your shirts off.”

Tristan was the first to tear off his tee. Ian was a second behind him. The magic Con had used to fake the tat on Ian’s chest was so good that for a moment Tristan began to wonder who was the real King.

“I’m tired of talking. It’s time to fight,” Tristan said. “Death comes to any Dark who dares to venture onto Dreagan. The treaty has been broken. If it’s war you want, then it’s war you’ll get.”

Balladyn’s smile was as frigid as the arctic. “Oh, it’s definitely war we want, Dragon King, but this time, you’ll be the ones to leave this realm.”

Tristan had heard enough. Rhi gave him a wink to let him know she was ready. Tristan let out a roar as he dove for the Dark nearest him.

Sammi was aghast at the melee before her. No sooner had Tristan attacked than Ian punched a Dark and dove to the floor. When he got to his feet he had Rhi’s sword in hand.

As for Rhi, she and Balladyn were once more rolling around on the floor, colliding into furniture and walls alike as they beat each other.

A moment later, the front door flew open as Dragon Kings and Warriors came pouring in. Sammi smiled, because she knew they would be victorious.

She quickly went to stand between Laith and Phelan while the others attacked the Dark Fae. Sammi couldn’t see the magic being thrown around by the Dark and Kings, but the air was electric with some unknown charge that could only be magic.

Three Dark lay dead, their lives taken by Ian, who swung Rhi’s sword as if it was a part of him. He wasn’t the only one with a sword, however.

Tristan also held one. She had no idea when he had gotten it or how, but it was beautiful in its simplicity. The blade was straight and the pommel leather wrapped with enough room for a hand and a half as he swung it.

The tide was quickly turning in their favor. Sammi looked at Laith to see the Dragon King’s face was grim. “What is it?”

“Two more Dark are here.”

“What?” she asked in confusion.

Then she saw them. The two Dark that quickly turned into six and then ten. It had been a trap, but not set by the Kings. This one had been set by the Dark.

Sammi lost count of the new Dark Ones appearing. Laith left her next to Phelan as he joined the others in the battle. Beside her, Phelan was fisting his hands and growling as he yearned to get into the thick of things.

“Go,” she urged.

He shook his head. “I can no’ leave you alone.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than his skin shifted into gold and gold claws shot from his fingers. He let loose a long, vicious growl and ducked a blast of magic before he speared the attacking Dark in the throat.

Blood sprayed Phelan as well as Sammi, but she didn’t bother to move. She had worked herself into a corner with Phelan now standing in front of her ready to defend her against a steady stream of Dark.

It wasn’t long before Charon returned and the two of them kept the Dark at bay. But for every Dark they killed, three more replaced them.

“Duck!” Charon yelled at her.

Sammi’s mind was still processing his request, but her body went into action. Her legs folded and she ended up on all fours on the floor with a smoldering hole in the wall where her head had been.

“Bloody hell,” she murmured and decided to stay lower to the ground. She put her back into the corner again and pulled her legs against her.

Her palms were sweaty and her mouth dry with fear. She searched the area for Tristan and found him fighting three Dark Ones with an ease that should have relieved her mind.

Instead, it made her all the more nervous, because Tristan was like a madman as he fought. He would fight until there was nothing left. He would put himself in peril, put Dreagan in peril.

There was a crack as if a strain on the wooden beams of the ceiling. Sammi easily found the source. It was Laith. He had shifted into dragon form. He stood, a wall of black scales against the Dark.

With a roar he busted his head through the roof. His tail took out two Dark Ones as well as the left half of the cottage. Sammi covered her head with her hands as debris began to rain down.

No sooner had Laith shifted than Banan joined him. Black stood next to Blue, and between the both of them the roof was completely demolished.

Boards bounced next to Sammi, one hitting her shoulder. It wasn’t until she looked up and found Phelan and Charon standing over her like shields that she realized why she was all but unfazed.

Charon let out a furious growl when his right leg crumpled and he went down on one knee. The air around him was charged higher, letting Sammi know magic had been used.

The Dark responsible was soon fighting Phelan. Sammi looked at Charon’s leg to see a ragged hole the size of a football burned into the lower back half of his jeans. The skin bled amid the burns. To her shock, his wound began to heal right before her eyes.

“If only we healed as quickly as the Kings,” Charon said with a wink.

He was up and fighting alongside Phelan again a moment later. Her mortality hit home like a sledgehammer. Every being, excluding herself, was immortal to some degree.

Her life could be snuffed out in an instant. A blast of magic from a Dark hitting her would most likely end her life. There would be nothing inside her to heal such a wound.

She stood in a room full of supernatural beings, immortal and powerful. They were fighting a war she had no part in, a war that she had been pulled into against her will.

But now that she was in it, Sammi didn’t think she could leave. How could she return to Oban and her pub knowing what existed on Dreagan?

There was no way any man would ever compare to Tristan. He was wild and fierce, untamed and ferocious—and she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

The raw, visceral power left her astounded and dazed.

The brutal, primal strength was startling and remarkable.

The fierce, potent energy of him made her heart pound and her soul come alive.

Tristan was the epitome of a Highland warrior. He was ruthless, merciless as he fought.

She was so in tune with him that she slowly stood to go to him. One step away from the corner and everything changed.

Perhaps Sammi should have paid more attention to the room at large rather than seeing Tristan with new eyes. Maybe then she would have realized there was a new Dark One in the room.

An arm wrapped around her from behind and grabbed her neck. Some unknown, unseen force was preventing her from speaking to warn Tristan or even Phelan and Charon that a Dark had her.

“Well, well, well,” said a deep, husky Irish voice in her ear. The male laughed softly. “Ah, but this was too easy. Tell me, dear, do you know which one is the real Tristan?”

Sammi shook her head. It didn’t matter what they did to her. She wasn’t going to tell them anything.

“No matter,” he whispered, his voice lowering even more. “Soon, Tristan will be coming to me. You see, I have what he wants. You.”

Terror, unyielding and inexorable, engulfed her. She had made a critical mistake, one that could be the end of her. Her gaze looked past the groups fighting to what was left of the bedroom.

The white linens were barely visible from the collapse of the roof. In her mind, however, the bed was clean and on it were her and Tristan locked in a kiss with their limbs tangled as they learned each other’s body.

It was the last thing she saw before the chilling, horrifying darkness.