Donna Grant - Fire Rising

Fear was too strong. She wanted to live! Rhi sucked in a breath to call out for help when Balladyn teleported her away.

She found herself in the dark in the next second. Before she could ask what he was doing, Balladyn hit her on the back of the neck, sending her to her knees.

Rhi fell into a puddle of water that made her gag—the stench was so terrible. She was then roughly yanked around and shackles put on her wrists and feet.

“These are the Chains of Mordare. I know you’ve heard of them, of just what they can do to a Fae. No Light magic can free you.”

Her head was spinning, her eyes unable to focus. She wanted to demand that Balladyn tell her what his plans for her were, but she couldn’t get the words past her lips.

“It’s your time to suffer. Pet,” he said contemptuously.

Then there was only silence. And the dark.

It was the worst kind of hell for a Light Fae.

“Shit!”

Tristan jerked at Con’s explosion. He forced himself to look at Constantine to find the King of Kings pacing in an agitated state.

“Where the hell is Rhi?” Phelan demanded angrily. “Did you send her away, Con?”

Con stopped pacing and spun to face Phelan. “Nay. She was taken. By Balladyn. Who is that son of a bitch anyway? He calls her pet as if they know each other.”

“I think they do,” Phelan said, his face lined with worry as he bent to collect Rhi’s blade that she must have dropped.

Tristan drew in a deep breath. “There’s no doubt they know each other. Those two were fighting as if they had a long-coming grudge to settle.”

“Our way into the Dark’s holding is gone,” Charon said.

Rhys righted a chair and kicked at a dead Dark. “No’ exactly. Phelan can find a way.”

“And I’ll be beside him,” Tristan stated.

Ian rubbed his chest as the dragon tattoo vanished. “I’ll be with you. If nothing else, we can try to fool them again.”

Tristan was shaking his head before Ian finished. “Nay. Balladyn knew who I was. He looked right at me. That ruse willna work again.”

“What did you say to Ulrik?” Banan asked. “Did you accidentally say something that would tip him off to your plan?”

“Never. I went out of my way to keep the conversation on me.”

Laith gave the broken sofa a kick away from a small closet and took out two pairs of jeans. He threw one at Banan and kept the other. After shoving one leg in the pants, he said, “Tristan’s plan was sound. The only way they could’ve known what was going down was to be privy to it.”

“No’ necessarily,” Ian said. “They were thoroughly confused when they saw both me and Tristan. They didna know of that.”

Con sighed loudly. “Which means they guessed and had the extra Dark on standby much as we were. Fuck me!”

“You all can debate that for as long as you want, but I’m going after Sammi. I can no’ leave her there any longer than necessary,” Tristan said.

Con’s eyes, black as coal and cool as a yawning abyss, caught his. “You know they willna exchange her for you, no matter what they’ve said.”

“I know. Just as I know that I’m no’ coming out of there.” It was a fate he resigned himself to.

He had mucked up being a Warrior, and when someone had counted on him, he had royally screwed up being a King. As second chances went, he had fucked up beyond measure. This was his penance.

Phelan stepped forward. “It’s no’ just Sammi we need to look for. There is Rhi as well. Balladyn took her for a reason.”

“And no’ a good one,” Con said angrily. “I know what they do to the Light. You might as well forget Rhi. If she survives, she’ll become Dark.”

“If?” Ian bellowed. “You’re no’ giving her enough credit.”

Banan walked to the doorway and glanced at the broken front door. “And you Warriors have no’ seen how they break a Light Fae. You know what the Dark do to mortals. It’s ten times worse for a Light.”

“I’m no’ going to give up on her so easily,” Rhys said. “She’s helped us when there was no reason for her to. The least I can do is search for her.”

Charon gave a brisk nod. “I’m in agreement.”

“Time is of the essence, gentlemen,” Con said. “You’ll be lucky to find one of them, if either. I’m coming with you.”

Tristan couldn’t have been more surprised than if Con had beheaded Phelan.

The last time he had snuck into Ireland it had just been him and Phelan. This time, the Dark were going to feel the fury of the Kings and Warriors.

Sammi shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes tightly shut. She was freezing. And wet. Where was she? More importantly, why was she squeezing her eyes shut?

Then it all came back in blazing Technicolor. Her heart missed a beat and her stomach dropped like a stone to her feet. She shivered, this time in panic and dread.

The Dark had her.

Insidious, menacing. Devious.

They were the boogeymen, the things mortals instinctively knew resided in the shadows waiting to strike. They were monsters, demons of the dark with enough magic and power to wipe out every last human.

Tristan had told her what they did to mortals, and her vivid imagination released dozens of scenarios she wished she could wipe from her mind.

Sammi couldn’t stop shaking. The terror had such a grip on her that even her teeth were chattering. The mind-boggling, unimaginable despair and trepidation sapped every smidgen of warmth from her body.

No amount of hoping the situation would all be a dream was going to help her. If she wanted a chance, she was going to have to face what was around her—no matter how petrified she was.

She opened her eyes expecting to find herself in some dark prison. Instead, lights blazed around her, blinding her so that she had to blink several times to adjust. Sammi drew in a shaky breath wishing her heart would stop beating against her rib cage.

A quick look around showed her several things. The room was narrow but long, the shape of a rectangle. There were no windows, just dozens of lights that seemed to hang in midair since she couldn’t see the ceiling.

And she was alone.

For the time being.

Sammi took that small measure of good news and held on tightly. She wasn’t a fool. They had taken her to get Tristan. In his duty as a Dragon King, he would come for her. Until then, the Dark would take their entertainment—on her.

How she wished Tristan wouldn’t come. It wasn’t that she wanted to stay with the Dark, but once they took her soul, she wouldn’t know the difference. At least they wouldn’t have a King.

But Tristan was too devoted to the Kings to do anything other than his loyal obligation.

“I see you’re awake.”

Sammi jumped when Balladyn suddenly appeared in front of her. She hated that they could do that. It would mean she had to constantly stay on guard. She let the hate fill her. It warmed her, chasing away the fear enough so she could think straight again.

“Bastards,” she mumbled.

One black brow lifted, his gorgeous face hard as granite. “Excuse me?”

She just stared at him, trying not to let his red eyes freak her out any more than she already was. If a woman could get past the red eyes, he would be considered a prime catch. Not only was Balladyn’s body tall and sculpted and almost as fine as Tristan’s, but he had the face of a movie star, a Daniel Craig type that left women panting.

“Don’t test me,” he said in his thick Irish accent. “Your room is lighted, but I can change that.”

Sammi thought it wise to keep her sarcastic remark to herself. She wasn’t brave enough to provoke a Dark Fae. A pity really, because she had some awesome comebacks she really wanted to toss his way.