Donna Grant - Fire Rising

“She does have the most tasty lips,” Balladyn said with a knowing smile. “Tell me, Dragon, why are you really here?”

“She’s my responsibility. I failed to keep her out of your grasp.”

Balladyn tsked. “She’s just a mortal. You’re willing to be locked away with us because of one human? Did Kellan not adequately explain what we’re after?”

Tristan knew, all right. Kellan had information that the Dark wanted. Only the Dark thought all Kings knew whatever secret it was that Kellan held. They would soon learn the truth.

“I see he did,” Balladyn said and tossed aside the grass. “Are you prepared to give up that information?”

“Are you prepared to die?”

“Such confidence. Bandying words with you will be better than with Sammi.”

“And Rhi.”

Balladyn’s smile was sly and secretive. He turned away without answering. “Come, Dragon. It’s time for you to see Sammi.”

Tristan didn’t have to look behind him to know that Ian was there. In fact, he could pinpoint Ian’s exact location—hanging by his hands and feet flat against the ceiling of the tunnel.

No one ever looked up.

Tristan sent a quick message to Con letting him know he was with Balladyn and being led to Sammi. There was no reply back from Con, but he didn’t take that to mean anything. There was no telling what Con was involved with at that moment.

He followed Balladyn through a door and then a maze of corridors and a dozen more doors. Finally Balladyn stopped in front of what looked like a wall, but as Tristan drew closer he could see it was actually a mirror.

“She doesn’t know it’s a mirror,” the Dark Fae explained. “To her, it’s simply a wall.”

Tristan knew he was about to be put to the ultimate test. The Dark wanted to know if he truly cared for Sammi, and if he let one shred of reaction show, one slip of indignation, he and Sammi were both doomed.

He kept his gaze on Balladyn as the Fae watched him with a shrewd grin. “Have a look,” he bade.

With a tight control on his emotions, Tristan slowly turned to the mirror. At first he saw nothing but a handful of Dark Fae standing around.

Then he saw a bare foot. That’s when he realized there was a woman lying on the floor with the Dark Ones around her. Two of the Fae shifted, giving Tristan a glimpse of a Fae atop her, pleasuring her.

Sammi.

It was Sammi. He’d know those sandy waves of her hair anywhere. Tristan couldn’t see her face, but then he didn’t need to. Balladyn wouldn’t bring him to anyone but Sammi.

She moaned, her legs lifting to wrap around the Dark Fae as he filled her. The others began to quickly undress as they waited their turn.

“Unlike Denae, Sammi wanted us. She begged. Repeatedly. We hunger for the pleasures of the flesh as well as the hope within mortals. Odd. Sammi had very little hope, which Taraeth fed off of, but her body was willing.”

Tristan couldn’t stand to watch another minute, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away either. The anguish and desolation ran deep within him.

He had been too late. He had taken too much time. He had failed her as he had promised not to do.

Sammi had held out for as long as she could. Tristan didn’t blame her. He blamed himself.

“Does it pain you to see her this way after you’ve had her in your bed?”

Tristan inhaled deeply. The icy calm that took him centered all his hatred and despondency on one person—Balladyn. Tristan began to plan how he was going to kill the Dark One.

“It pains me to see any human in your clutches. You bleed their souls dry so they can never return to their families.”

Balladyn shrugged. “None of them complain.”

Tristan was about to turn away when he spotted a small heart tattoo on the outer ankle of the woman. He had seen every inch of Sammi’s body. She didn’t have any such markings.

He swiveled his head to Balladyn. “That isna Sammi. Where is she?”

Balladyn’s answering grin made Tristan want to smash his fist into the Dark Fae’s face. It had all been a trick. But why?

“Are you sure that isn’t your Sammi?”

“She isna mine,” Tristan said in an even tone. He couldn’t show his anger, no matter how much he wanted to. “Sammi doesna have any tattoos. Take me to her. Now.”

“As you wish,” Balladyn said and turned on his heel.

Tristan stayed just one step behind him. No other Dark followed, which put him more on edge than ever. The Dark obviously had a plan. They didn’t try to force him into a room or shackle him. Yet.

It would come. He wasn’t about to lower his guard just because he was being treated as a guest. The Dark wanted something from him. They wouldn’t get it, but they could certainly try.

As they walked down the corridor, Tristan let his gaze wander around. The lighting was dimmed, the furnishings opulent to the point of gaudy.

The place was immaculately clean, but nothing could dispel the cloud of evil the Dark brought. They lived off humans, draining them of love, hope, and happiness—and leaving behind a shell of nothing but an insatiable hunger for sex with the Dark.

“You don’t approve,” Balladyn said, his Irish accent thickening, a small tell that he was annoyed.

Tristan shrugged when Balladyn glanced at him over his shoulder as they turned a corner. “It’s no’ exactly my decorating taste.”

“I’m not referring to the furnishings, Dragon.”

“And I’m no’ talking about this place, Dark.”

Balladyn stopped walking and shifted to the side to look at Tristan. “How does it feel to be the newest King? Have your brethren told you all of their conquests? How about their failures?”

“I know enough. I’ve got a lot of years to catch up on.”

“Thousands upon thousands. You’re a fool if you think they’ve done nothing but good.”

Tristan kept his voice mild as he said, “The humans are still here, are they no’? The same willna be said if your kind take over as you want.”

“The humans are nothing more than cattle. They destroy this realm with the carelessness of a child. And yet you defend them. They ran your dragons out, hunted them one by one.”

“That they did. And what will you do the mortals?”

Balladyn’s smile was pure evil. “We’ll hunt them down one by one.”

“You just want the Kings to step aside?”

“You should be thanking us for doing what none of you could. What kind of race of beings would send their own kind away to save ungrateful, ungracious, vain, self-absorbed, vicious, destructive creatures? Only the Dragon Kings. You’ve alienated yourselves.”

“You went to all that trouble to capture Kellan and now me just to ask us to step aside? I think no’.”

Balladyn began walking again, this time more slowly. He waited until Tristan was even with him before he said, “Of course not. There is something we’re looking for.”

“With all your magic, you can no’ find it?”

“No,” he said flatly. He motioned for Tristan to turn right. “It was hidden by the Kings.”

Tristan stared blankly as Balladyn searched his face. He had no idea what the Dark was going on about, but he would play along for the time being. “There’s a reason for that.”

“It was hidden before Constantine became the King of Kings. It was hidden by the first King of Kings and protected by his successors.”

Tristan wracked his brain for what it could possibly be, but he came up empty. “Why do you want it?”

“Do you ever wonder how Con became the King of Kings?”

“He was the strongest of the dragons.”

Balladyn shook his head. “Ulrik was stronger, but Ulrik didn’t want to rule everyone else. He wanted the Kings to rule themselves, but I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m talking about Con. Do you know how a King of Kings is chosen?”