Fire Rising

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Sammi hated the feel of wearing wet jeans. It was about as disgusting as mud slipping through her toes. She shivered just thinking about it.

It was hard not to think of miserable things when she felt so dismal. Wet jeans, damp shirt and hair, along with the icy temperatures were enough to put a saint in a foul mood.

And she was far from a saint.

At least her thoughts had taken her from the Dark Fae. They were a terrorizing lot to be sure. She leaned her head back against the stone wall, hating that she was so helpless. But what could a mortal do against the magic of the Fae?

Sammi climbed to her feet and stretched. She groaned when her jeans stuck to her leg. “Ick,” she murmured and made herself walk around the rectangular room.

If only she had magic to toss at the Dark Fae she wouldn’t feel so powerless. As it was, she felt like an inmate on death row waiting to be executed.

She prayed Tristan came for her, but she also hoped he didn’t. There could be nothing good of the Dark having a Dragon King. Nor could she imagine Tristan locked away as she was.

He would long to see the sky and ache to take flight. He was a glorious specimen in human form with his chiseled features, hard muscles, and the tat on his chest.

But as a dragon, his amber scales gleaming in the sunlight, he was magnificent. He glided effortlessly upon the wind, his massive wings spread wide while he moved between mountains.

How could someone like that be kept in the dark? How could someone like that survive with the Dark Ones?

Tristan was immortal, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be affected somehow, someway. That thought chilled her. His obligation would send him, and he would be stuck in this evil place.

“Do you love him?”

Sammi shrieked as she whirled around to find Balladyn leaning a shoulder casually against the wall as he watched her. Once more he had come upon her without her knowing. How she despised that. “What?”

“Tristan? Do you love him?”

“You want me to say yes so you can use him against me?” She rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m not that guileless.”

His smile didn’t reach his red eyes. He had changed into all black—black jeans, black boots, and a black BKE long-sleeved tee. His hair was pulled away from his face and secured at the back of his head, hanging down his back in a black and silver cascade.

“For someone who wants to destroy my world, you sure like the fashions,” she pointed out. “Are those Bed Stu boots?”

“Answer me, mortal.”

His voice was as hard as granite, as unforgiving as the arctic. Sammi was petrified of him. Her first instinct was to cower and tell him anything he wanted. It was also her plan to make them think she was scared.

Easy since both went hand in hand.

“His power lured me,” she said, hoping Balladyn bought the lie. Though it wasn’t a complete lie. There was something mesmerizing about the Kings, but Tristan more than any other.

Balladyn narrowed his eyes on her. “It’s not wise to lie to me.”

“I don’t love,” she blurted out. Tears stung her eyes as the truth of her life came back and slapped her in the face.

She didn’t love. Anyone. She hadn’t even let Jane as close as Jane thought she was. Sammi had taken her calls and texts and exchanged e-mails, but every time Jane wanted her to visit, Sammi had an excuse. Same for when Jane tried to see her.

Sammi could keep her at a distance with electronics. It was more difficult when someone stood before you. Tristan had shown her that. She’d tried her damnedest to keep him at arm’s length.

And failed.

If the Fae realized she had fallen for the Dragon King, they would use it against both her and Tristan. She was weak as a mortal against the Dark, but she could do her part to make them think it was nothing more than a King protecting a human.

“You spent the night in his bed,” Balladyn said, breaking into her thoughts.

Sammi wrapped her arms around her middle to help keep her warm. “It was one night. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does. It can.”

“Not with me. Besides, if he cared for me, would he have put me in danger back at the cottage? Would a Dragon King who loved a mortal have had her anywhere near where a potential attack would come?”

She inwardly smiled when she saw Balladyn frown and hesitate before speaking. She had hit the nail on the head.

What was worse, she was thinking how true her words really were. She might have fallen in love with Tristan, but he didn’t return her feelings.

The emptiness inside her yawned like a gaping black hole threatening to swallow her. That same hole had nearly taken her when her mother died.

This time she wouldn’t be able to outrun it.

This desolation, hollowness … this sadness was why she had made sure never to get close to anyone. The pain was too intense to bear.

“You see I’m right,” she said as her heart crumbled into a thousand pieces.

“Yet you expect him to come.”

It wasn’t a question. Sammi tilted her head to the side. “The main purpose of the Dragon Kings is to protect humans. Isn’t that why there were the Fae Wars? He will be doing his duty as a King. Nothing more.”

“You’re lying.”

“You know I’m not.”

Balladyn pushed away from the wall and gradually walked to her, eyeing her the entire time. “Your words make sense, but I saw the way he looked at you when Taraeth took you.”

“I’m Jane’s sister. Banan had Tristan watch over me. I’m nothing more than an obligation, a duty.”

“So you say,” he said.

He kept walking around her, making Sammi turn to keep him in her sights. “Why would I have need to lie?”

“Because you love him?”

She forced a laugh she didn’t feel. “Oh, how wrong you are. Tristan is nothing to me. He was someone to fill my bed because I enjoyed what he looked like.”

“You could be lying.”

“I could be, but I want to go home. You scare me. This place scares me. My connection to Jane and Dreagan is what landed me here. What loyalty to the Kings do I have? None.”

Balladyn took a step toward her, bringing his body close enough that she could feel the heat of him. “Kellan was quick to deny his feelings for Denae, and yet they were mates.”

“I’m not Denae, and Tristan isn’t Kellan.” She was running out of things to say. If only he would believe her and step away. She needed to be alone in her misery.

“Maybe.”

Sammi looked to the ceiling before she met his red gaze. “Look. I don’t know how to make this any plainer. What do you want from me?”

Before she could guess his intentions, his hand snaked out and grasped the back of her head while his lips descended upon hers.

The kiss wasn’t horrible, but it didn’t make her blood burn or her skin tingle or make her long to strip off his clothes and wrap her legs around him as it did when Tristan kissed her.

Balladyn ended the kiss quickly and looked down at her. “You are a cold one. If Taraeth doesn’t thaw your body, I’ll get my chance.”

Sammi was so shocked she could only stare at him. “I’ll never see my home again, will I?”

“Never. It’s not so bad down here. You’ll get used to it soon enough. All the others do.”

She turned her back to the wall and tried to control her breathing so she didn’t hyperventilate. This couldn’t be happening. She didn’t want them touching her or kissing her, but Balladyn made it sound as if she wouldn’t have a choice.

“All this because I knew the Kings?” she asked in one last desperate attempt in hopes they let her go.

He tugged at her hair. “That’s part of it. Then there’s the fact you walked away from me when we bumped into each other.”

She was aghast. “Of all the conceited things. Do you really expect women to fall at your feet?”

“They always have. I’m Fae. It’s what we do.”

“I don’t care about anyone, and I don’t love. I’m a cold one, as you put it. There’s your answer. Some humans are meant to go through life alone. I’m one of those.”

He ran a finger tenderly along her jaw. “We’ll see. Taraeth will keep you awhile until he tires of you. If you want to survive him, I suggest you not make him angry.”

Her lips parted to respond, but he disappeared. She fisted her hands and ran across the space to the opposite wall and slammed her hands against the stones again and again.

“I’m not part of the Kings! I don’t care about any of them!”

Tristan was right behind Phelan as they stepped through the doorway and found themselves back in the tunnels. Ian, Charon, and Con followed.

They had taken just a few steps when Sammi’s voice, yelling that she wasn’t part of the Kings bounced along the walls of the tunnels.

The Dark knew they were there, and they wanted him to hear her. Her words stung, but at this point, Tristan wouldn’t hold anything against her.

Fear most likely ruled her, and anyone would say whatever was needed to try and get freed. Sammi had yet to realize that the Dark never willingly let anyone go.

“She sounds tired,” Ian whispered.

Tristan squatted next to the wall. It was once more pitch black, but neither the Warriors nor Kings had trouble seeing in the dark. “She’s terrified.”

“Do you think Rhi is being held here as well?” Phelan asked.

Tristan had no answer. It was Rhi who had found Phelan before he knew he was part Fae. A strong friendship had developed, and Tristan was glad to see someone was worried about her.

He would be as well if it wasn’t for Sammi. As much as he wanted to find Rhi, he had to get to Sammi first.

“There’s no way to know,” Con answered.

Charon looked down the tunnel where it split into three. “We’ll cover more ground split up.”

“Agreed,” Phelan hurried to say.

Ian nudged Tristan. “We’ll take the left side.”

Phelan and Charon exchanged smiles. It was Charon who said, “We’ll take the middle.”

“I’ll take the right,” Con said with a nod. “I can communicate with Tristan, and he with me, but there’s no way we can let Phelan and Charon know it’s time to get out.”

Tristan looked at Phelan. “Con’s right. We have to have some way to communicate.”

“Use magic,” Phelan said.

Charon nodded in agreement. “Aye. Down here in this muck, it’ll feel different enough to know it’s one of you.”

With a nod, Con stood and hurried down the tunnel to disappear in the fork that branched to the right.

Together, the four of them approached the other two entrances. There was a silent look exchanged between them before Charon held out his arm. “Whether you go by Duncan or Tristan, and regardless of whether you’re a Warrior or a Dragon King, it’s a pleasure to be fighting next to you again.”

Tristan clasped first Charon’s, and then Phelan’s forearm before they split into twos and went their separate ways.

Sammi—and the Dark Ones—waited.