Donna Grant: Fire Rising

A woman with long, brunette hair with the top half pulled away from her face came around the counter and smiled at Lily. “You know your whisky.”

Lily turned to the woman and straightened her shoulders. “I’d like to think I do. I was called in for the interview.”

“Ah,” the woman said as she glanced behind her to the clipboard. “You must be Lilliana Ross.”

“Lily, please,” she said and held out her hand.

The woman took it and smiled. “I’m Cassie. Why don’t we go to the back and talk?”

Sammi watched the two Americans interact and recognized by Cassie’s mannerisms that she liked Lily. If Sammi was a betting person, she’d wager a hefty sum that Lily walked out with the job.

“Of course,” Lily said.

Cassie’s dark eyes lifted to Sammi. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Actually, I hope you can. I’m looking for Jane.”

“Jane?” Cassie repeated, some of the spark gone from her eyes.

Sammi wasn’t offended. Jane had mentioned how close everyone was at Dreagan, and now that she thought of it, she recalled Jane mentioning a Cassie.

“I’m Sammi Miller, Ja—”

“Jane’s half-sister,” Cassie finished for her with a kind nod. “Let me call the house and get her over here. She’ll be so pleased to see you.”

Sammi wasn’t so sure of that, but she needed at least a day of rest and to see to her wound again. It felt as if it were becoming infected.

She could barely move her arm now. Dressing and showering was becoming a chore with only one arm, not to mention trying to wash her hair.

Before Cassie made the phone call, she stuck her head around the corner and said something to whoever was there. While she called the house, a tall man with faded jeans riding low on trim hips and a burgundy tee with a dragon design mimicking a tribal tattoo came walking into the shop.

It was hard to tell how long his dark hair was because he had it pulled back in a queue, but his aqua eyes glanced at Sammi before they landed on Lily. After a hesitation, in which he took in every inch of the petite woman, he looked away and walked around the counter to a case of whisky waiting to be stocked on the shelves.

Sammi’s gaze turned to Lily to find she was staring at the man as if he were the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Granted, he was drool-worthy, but Sammi had seen many men like him during her days at the pub. They were gorgeous, and most of them knew it. To those men, females were meant for entertainment and nothing more.

But by the way Lily couldn’t look away from him, Sammi was going to have to caution her. Then she realized that maybe she shouldn’t. Everyone needed to fall in love at least once, and everyone needed to have their heart broken once. That way, when love came again, it was all the sweeter.

At least that’s what her mum had always said. Sammi hadn’t given that piece of advice a try. Oh, she’d had her heart broken when she was a teenager, but she hadn’t fallen in love.

And she never would.

Cassie hung up the phone and met Sammi’s eyes. “Jane is on her way. Lily, why don’t we go in the back?”

Sammi gave Lily a wink of encouragement, and then found herself alone with the man.

“So you’re Samantha,” he said without looking at her.

She turned toward him fully and glared, not that he saw it. He kept stocking the whisky as if he hadn’t just spoken to her. “I prefer Sammi.”

“You prefer a male name?”

“Do you prefer to walk around holding your twig and berries after I kick you?”

He paused. Then he looked at her over his shoulder, a wide smile upon his lips. “I thought you’d be more like Jane.”

“Quiet and demure, or klutzy?”

“Either. Both.”

“Leave her alone, Rhys,” Jane said as she let the door close behind her, though there was no censure in her tone. “Sammi manages to stay upright. As for demure, I think she’s brilliant just as she is.”

Sammi hated when Jane said things like that because it always made her eyes prick with tears. She looked into Jane’s amber eyes and knew everything would be all right.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Jane said and rushed to her.

Sammi tried not to grimace when Jane hugged her, but she didn’t hide it quickly enough. Jane pulled back at the same time Rhys faced her.

Jane’s gaze silently probed her for several minutes before she asked, “What happened?”

“Nothing. Why? Can’t I come see my half-sister?”

“Absolutely,” Jane said, her gaze still searching. “It’s just … well, to put it bluntly, you haven’t.”

Sammi cringed. “I know. I’m sorry. I wanted to take a few days and see you. If you aren’t busy, that is.”

“Not at all. I’m beyond happy that you’re here. Are you sure everything is all right?” she asked again.

Sammi forced a laugh. “Of course it is. Why would you keep asking that?”

“You’ve lost weight, not that you had a lot to lose to begin with. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes too, and you’re holding your left arm oddly. And is that blood coming through your shirt near your shoulder?”

Suddenly, the past four weeks slammed into Sammi. Or maybe it was because she was finally on Dreagan—Jane had let it slip that it was one of the most heavily guarded areas in Scotland—and felt safe enough to let down her guard.

Either way, it was as though her body had simply reached its limit. Sammi could barely hold her eyes open she was so exhausted. She grabbed the counter to keep on her feet and her fatigue at bay while she searched her mind to come up with some lie.

But she didn’t want to lie anymore, not to Jane. She couldn’t tell them the truth, but she could give them something. “It’s a small wound, and it’s better if you don’t know anything. I just need a place to stay for the night.”

“You’ll stay longer,” Jane stated with a nod.

But Sammi was already shaking her head. “No.”

“Banan, tell her,” Jane said.

Banan’s tall form walked around the counter to Jane. Sammi hadn’t even known he had entered the shop. He stood behind Jane, his hands on her shoulders as his gray eyes met Sammi’s. Whereas Rhys’s hair was long, Banan kept his dark brown locks cut short.

“Jane is right. You need to stay,” Banan said.

Sammi knew it was useless to argue now. She would be up early and gone before they knew it. Now that she knew she was at Dreagan and could stay, she could barely keep upright. Her stomach growled, her wound ached, and her eyes fought to stay open.

“Let’s get you to the house,” Jane said as she turned Sammi and guided her to the door. “Banan will get your things. Once you’re fed and rested, I want you to tell me what’s going on. I can help.”

Sammi kept her gaze straight ahead and put one foot in front of the other by sheer will alone. She refused to collapse. There was nothing Jane could say that would convince Sammi to tell her any of her troubles. The less Jane and Banan knew, the better.

At least that’s what she prayed for.

Tristan strode angrily from the mountain. For weeks, he had been hounded by Phelan who repeatedly asked whether he remembered anything before he had become a Dragon King.

No matter how many questions Phelan asked, no matter how many stories Phelan told of him and his twin, Ian, Tristan remembered nothing of it.

There was no denying he was an exact replica of Ian Kerr based on the photos he’d been shown, but whatever connection Ian and Duncan shared hadn’t been passed on to him. Duncan had been killed, but Phelan said Ian had heard Duncan’s voice in his head afterward.

Maybe Duncan had died, his soul at least. Tristan had his body, but a new soul. He didn’t know, and he was tired of everyone pestering him about it.