Donna Grant - Fire Rising

Careful not to get her stitches too wet, Sammi hurriedly showered. She dried off just as quickly and only then wondered where her clothes were.

She walked out of the bathroom and let out a sigh when she spotted her jeans and several shirts stacked neatly on a chair. Not wasting another minute, she dressed and ran her fingers through her hair.

It didn’t really matter what she looked like while running for her life. Sammi stared at her reflection in the mirror and hated the person she had become.

At least she had managed to keep the truth from spilling out and involving Jane and the others more than they already were.

Her life hadn’t exactly been perfect, but she’d had the pub and a decent living. She might have been lonely and actually contemplating Internet dating, but it was a far cry from where she was now.

How had she not known Daniel had been involved with such people? Was the idea of making money so appealing that anything that might have caught her attention had been pushed to the back of her mind?

If only she’d seen who he really was. Maybe then she would have fired him instead of getting involved in such a fiasco.

With Daniel’s lie of her being out of town when the Mob had paid a visit to her pub, they knew she was alive. So there was no rest for her. The Mob would continue searching, waiting for her to screw up somehow so they could find her.

In all the time she had known Daniel, she’d never seen him so scared. He hadn’t been the wisest when it came to getting involved with the wrong people, but he had always managed to talk his way out of any situation.

Until this last time.

Sammi could still hear the leader’s voice in her head. And it gave her chills of dread every time.

With a shake of her head, she turned away from the mirror and walked to the door. Slowly, she turned the knob without making a sound and inched it open.

When she didn’t see anyone standing across from her door, she looked to the left and then the right. There wasn’t a soul in sight, just as she’d hoped.

Getting out of the massive house, however, was going to be another matter entirely. Sammi kept to one side of the long corridor and half-ran, half-walked to the left, only to come to a wall.

With no other choice, she turned and started back the other way. It didn’t take her long to find the stairs. By the time she reached the bottom floor, her breath was coming in great gasps.

Sammi paused as she tried to remember how Jane had brought her into the manor. It wasn’t from the front door. Cautiously, she moved from room to room until she finally located the kitchen.

Just as she was about to walk into the room, she spotted a man pouring two mugs of coffee. Sammi hastily plastered herself against the wall and prayed he didn’t see her.

She ducked behind a tall plant seconds before the man walked out whistling some nameless tune. Sammi released the breath she’d been holding.

After counting to five, she stood and ran into the kitchen. The smell of the coffee was tempting, but she ignored it as she slipped out of the manor.

A quick look around showed she was alone. She wanted to run to her car, but that would only cause suspicion. So, with great effort, she kept her pace to a fast walk until she passed a row of tall, thick hedges and she saw the distillery and guest parking.

Sammi ran the last bit to the stolen car, sliding on the gravel when she grabbed the door handle. She managed to stay on her feet and yanked the door open. Once she was behind the wheel she cast another glance around.

In the fields off to her right she could see men releasing sheared sheep loose from their pens. Her luck was holding because other than that, there was no one else about.

She didn’t give it another thought as she started the car and put it in reverse. In no time she was driving down the long drive and she let Dreagan grow smaller in her rearview mirror.

“Are you sure this is the way to handle this?” Jane asked Banan for the third time that morning.

“Aye, love.”

Tristan didn’t take his eyes off the faded red of the car as Sammi drove away. “She wanted to leave last night. Had I not forced her to sleep, she would have. Now at least we’re prepared to follow her.”

Jane blew out a frustrated breath. “She’ll never forgive us.”

“Would you rather have her forgiveness or have her alive?” Banan asked. “Because that’s what it’s going to come to. The Mob is after her, love.”

Tristan rubbed his jaw. “I find it verra concerning that there is another woman on Dreagan running from someone.”

“That does seem odd,” Jane replied with a frown. “You don’t think the Dark Fae have anything to do with this, do you?”

Tristan and Banan exchanged a look.

Banan took Jane’s hand in his. “At this point, anything is possible. We willna know until we see if anyone is following her.”

“Just be careful. Both of you,” Jane added. She gave Banan a kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck as she held him to her. They stayed like that for several minutes.

Then, to Tristan’s surprise, Jane hugged him. “Keep my sister alive.”

“I will.” He stepped away and walked to the waiting BMW 640i Coupe.

A moment later Banan slid behind the wheel and started the car. He gave Jane a wave as they pulled away. “She’ll never forgive me if anything happens to Sammi.”

“We willna let anything happen to her.” Tristan felt Banan’s gaze on him.

It wasn’t just that Sammi was in trouble that made Tristan jump to protect her. She was Jane and Banan’s family, which meant that even though Sammi had no idea they were Dragon Kings, she was also a part of their family.

Unbidden, the image of hands the color of pale blue and long claws covered in blood flashed in his head. Tristan hadn’t allowed himself to consider why that image suddenly appeared or the meaning behind it.

He knew the Warriors’ skin changed the color of the primeval god within them when they called the god forth. Tristan also knew they had claws.

Had it been a flash from his past? Were there memories there as Laith had suggested, and they were just repressed? If so, what had he done to let one out?

More importantly, did he want more?

In some ways, it was easier to continue on as he was, without the memories of a past life as Duncan Kerr, an immortal Warrior with a god locked inside him.

Then there was Ian. Duncan’s identical twin brother.

So far, Ian hadn’t come to Dreagan or attempted to contact him, but Tristan knew it was only a matter of time until he did. Then what?

“That’s a deep frown you’re wearing,” Banan said.

Tristan relaxed his features and shrugged. “There’s a lot to think about.”

“Why do I have the feeling you are no’ referring to Sammi and her troubles, but instead to a certain Warrior named Ian?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Banan shook his head as he glanced at the screen on the dash where a red light was flashing, showing them where Sammi was, thanks to their putting a tracking device on her car obtained from Banan’s friend and contact in MI5, Henry North. “I know Phelan has been pushing you. Doona be angry with him. He’s doing it for Ian. And for you.”

“He doesna know me.”

“He may no’ have known you as Duncan, but he knows you as Tristan. The Warriors have as tight a bond as we do. They look out for their own. Ian nearly didna remain in control of his god he was so devastated by your—I mean Duncan’s—death.”

Tristan shifted in his seat and plucked at the seat belt he hated wearing. “Did you know who I was when I first came to Dreagan? Did you know I was once a Warrior?”

“Nay. No’ at first.”