Burning Desire (13 page)

Rhys had completely agreed with binding Ulrik’s magic at the time, but he didn’t agree with Con’s wanting to kill him now. If it turned out that Ulrik was the one plotting to expose the Dragon Kings then he might have to reevaluate his opinions.

Until then, Ulrik was one of them, no matter if he could shift into a dragon or not.

Besides, if he were in Ulrik’s place, he would crave revenge as well.

The fact that everything pointed to Ulrik was damning. The Kings’ enemies knew things about them only another Dragon King would, and knew locations on Dreagan land that no one save a Dragon King should know.

Rhys walked out of the conservatory into the main house. The sound of female voices coming from the kitchen area let him know that at least a few of the mates to his friends were busy preparing a meal.

He took the stairs three at a time until he reached the third level. Rhys turned left and made his way to the back of the corridor and the large room set up with numerous computers.

A blond head peered over one monitor when he walked into the room. Rhys nodded to Ryder as he came around the half moon–shaped desk to see a box of donuts sitting on the desk.

“Still observing Ulrik?” Rhys asked.

Ryder stuffed the last bit of a chocolate donut with sprinkles in his mouth and pointed to four of the ten computers. Rhys stood behind Ryder’s chair and crossed his arms over his chest when he saw the angles of the cameras directed on Ulrik’s place of business from the front, sides, and back.

“He willna be able to make a move without it being seen,” Ryder said, a note of exasperation in his voice.

“You doona agree with Con?”

Ryder turned his chair around to look up at Rhys with hazel eyes. “Ulrik is a Dragon King. I wouldna agree no matter which one of us Con wanted to spy on.”

“And if Ulrik is the one aligning with the Dark Fae, MI5, and who knows who else?”

Ryder scooted his chair away from Rhys and stood. “I doona want to believe it’s Ulrik.”

“The facts say otherwise.”

Ryder shrugged and lifted the lid on the box of donuts to search through them. He pulled out another pastry, this one jelly filled. He let out a whoop and lifted the donut. “My favorite!”

Rhys shook his head, though he couldn’t hide his smile. “You and those damn donuts.”

“They’re amazing,” Ryder said right before he took a big bite, leaving strawberry jelly on the sides of his mouth.

Rhys moved his gaze back to the monitors focused on Ulrik’s business. He glanced at the other computer screens to see buildings and homes of people thought to be in alliance with Ulrik.

“He doesna leave that building for long,” Ryder said, speaking of Ulrik. “Though he does leave.”

“Where does he go?”

“Around Perth to get groceries or to eat.”

“Is he alone?”

Ryder polished off the donut and nodded. “Always.”

“That’s odd. If he was aligning with others, they would come to him or he would go to them.”

“Aye. Con wants one of us to get inside and put a bug in his phones.”

Rhys frowned as he studied the monitors. “Ulrik willna be so stupid as to allow that to happen.”

“Con believes that is how he’s communicating with others.”

“I’m sure it is, but Con can forget about it. It willna happen, not with Ulrik.”

Ryder sat in his chair again and leaned it back. “Ulrik was always a crafty one. If he is doing this, it’ll be hard to pin it on him.”

“He told Banan he wanted revenge.”

“Wouldna you?” Ryder asked. “I sure as hell would. In some ways Con was right. He should’ve killed Ulrik back then. I wouldna want to live as Ulrik has all these centuries alone and unable to be the one thing he is—a dragon.”

Rhys blew out a deep breath just as Hal walked into the room.

The Dragon King looked at him with moonlight blue eyes before lowering his gaze to Ryder. “Any movement from Ulrik?” Hal asked.

Ryder shook his head. “None.”

Hal stood beside Rhys and crossed his arms over his chest. “I think I’ll go pay Ulrik a visit.”

“He told Tristan to keep all of us away,” Rhys reminded him.

Hal merely smiled. “When has that stopped us?”

He had a point. Rhys chuckled and faced Hal. “I think I’ll go with you.”

“Are you both trying to start a shit storm with Con?” Ryder asked.

“That is usually Rhys’s job, but I thought I’d give it a try,” Hal said with a wide smile.

“Both of you can bite me,” Rhys said, though he was smiling as well.

Ryder swiveled his chair to face both of them. “I’m coming with you.”

Rhys raised his brows. “Well, this will certainly piss Con off. Too bad I willna be here to see it.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kiril reclined in a chair outside by the pool and looked over the garden. Part of him hoped Shara suddenly showed up.

And another part prayed she didn’t.

If she was truly seducing him in order to trap him, then when he didn’t show up in Cork, she would come looking for him. The last time Kiril had wanted something so badly was after the last of the dragons was sent away and he prayed he and the other Kings would be able to bring them back.

That was thousands of millennia ago. The dragons were never going to return to this realm. He would never see his beloved Burnt Oranges again. He would never fly high with them around him, hearing their roars.

Even after all this time, it was still hard to accept. There were times he couldn’t. Would the same happen with Shara? Would he continue to try to earn her favor even if she turned out to be evil as his friends believed?

Kiril swirled the whisky in his glass. Dreagan. It had arrived just two hours before by courier. He’d had it shipped in from one of their distributors. It was a small taste of home, but it did nothing to ease the knot in his belly.

His mobile rang shrilly into the silence. Kiril palmed it and briefly thought about tossing it in the pool when he looked at the number. He didn’t recognize the caller, but whoever it was was in Ireland.

He answered with a curt “Aye?”

“I’ve got a lovely redhead who’s dying to meet you.”

Farrell. Kiril slowly sat up. “Do you now?”

“I told her you’d be here as you are every night.”

He set down his glass of whisky at his feet. “How did you get my number?”

“I’m connected. If there’s something I want, I get it.”

“I’m beginning to believe that.”

Farrell chuckled. “Are you … occupied?”

“Nay.”

“Good. You must get down here.”

“I’m going to pass.”

There was a beat of silence, and Kiril could practically hear Farrell’s anger growing. “How about I bring her to you?”

Kiril wasn’t in the mood to play games or pretend that he liked Farrell, when he couldn’t stand the bastard. “What? You love my company so much you’re looking for ways we can spend time together? I’m thinking you need that redhead much more than me.”

He ended the call, and though he should have handled things better, Kiril found that he really didn’t care. Being around so many Darks was like rubbing a wound raw.

Evil festered, gnawed. Being so close to so much maliciousness corrupted and infected everything around it. That’s what was happening to him. He could feel it eating at him from the inside out.

Where was Shara? He didn’t care what her reasons were as long as she came to him.

Kiril remained outside for the time it took him to toss back the last of the whisky in his glass. He rose and walked inside the house and slammed the doors behind him. He then turned on the stereo and cranked up the Thousand Foot Crutch CD with “Fly on the Wall” blaring through the speakers.

He kept the lights off as he hurried to the door of the cellar. It was meant to be nothing more than a wine cellar, but Kiril had been expanding it since he’d purchased the estate.

There wasn’t a single piece of furniture in the cellar. It was far from his cave in the mountains on Dreagan, but it kept the Dark Fae from seeing him.

And he desperately needed to be hidden.

He let out a bellow, his hands fisted as he bent his arms, releasing the pent-up frustration, rage, and aggravation. The cellar wasn’t quite as big as he wanted it. The plan had been to come work on it, but now he knew he needed to be there for another reason entirely.

Ever since he arrived in Ireland he had been tamping down his urge to shift. This time, when the need hit, he eagerly sought it.

One moment he was human, and the next he shifted. The cellar was cramped, barely leaving room for his body to fit lengthways. With his tail tucked against him and his wings as close to his body as he could manage, he was hunched over. He couldn’t stand upright, but he didn’t care. He was in his true form, and that alone helped to alleviate most of what bothered him.

Kiril lay down, resting his head upon his paws. To think he had been tired of hiding at Dreagan, tired of never being able to stay away from it too long.

What he wouldn’t give to return. Except he had his brethren—and Rhi—to think about. He had to remain in Ireland for as long as he could.

Though he feared he wouldn’t be able to stand it too much longer.

*   *   *

Shara wasn’t concerned with the passing of time. Though her thoughts often turned to Kiril, she quickly thought of something else. As long as she was with Balladyn, no other man would dare offer for her nor would her family bother her.

She watched a female Dark go up to a cage that held a human male and grab his engorged cock. His face was a mask of euphoria from that simple touch. That was something she understood all too well. It’s what she’d experienced in Kiril’s arms.

Damn, she was doing it again. She had to stop thinking about him. If everything went to plan, she would never have to face Kiril again, never have to ignore the burning desire or pretend that she wasn’t aching for his touch.

“Shara,” Balladyn said as he wrapped an arm around her, his fingers digging into the bruise on her side.

She hissed in a breath and hastily covered it as she smiled at him. His gaze, however, was narrowed and ire hardened his features.

“You didn’t tell me you were injured.”

She lifted her shoulders helplessly. “It’s just a bruise. I’m fine.”

“And how did you get this bruise?”

“It’s of no concern.”

He smiled, though it was hard and cold. Balladyn turned her to face him. “Farrell has a habit of using his fists against females when words would work better. Is that how you got your injury?”

If she admitted to it, then Balladyn would want to know why Farrell had hit her. And Shara wasn’t going to tell him anything about Kiril.

Her silence, it seemed, was answer enough when a muscle in Balladyn’s temple throbbed. “I’ll have to have a word with him.”

Shara had to think quickly and say something before Balladyn could ask anything else. “You surprise me once more. I never thought you would mind a female getting hit.”

“If a female hits me, then I will hit back. For a brother to hit a sister? Nay, I don’t agree.” His face softened. “If your slack jaw is any indication, I really have surprised you.”

She closed her mouth and reconsidered him. “What surprises me is that you haven’t already found a wife.”

“I hadn’t found anyone worthy. Until now.”

Shara smiled, delight spreading through her. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. How different her life would be with someone like Balladyn.

Or Kiril.

She once more took Balladyn’s arm. They had been around his fortress already, but she knew he wasn’t leading her for another tour. He had something else in mind.

Regardless of her reluctance to share her body with Balladyn because it felt like a betrayal to Kiril, she had to think of her future. Whatever had happened between her and Kiril was in the past. There was no future for them. He couldn’t live in her world, and she could never live in his.

Another option had presented itself in the form of Balladyn. If only she had ventured into the doorway sooner and found his fortress, then she might never have had that night with Kiril and long for something that would never be hers.

“I want some time alone with you,” Balladyn said. “I don’t want to have anyone looking at us or trying to hear what we’re saying. The only place I can ensure that is my chamber.”

Her feet stopped of their own accord. She kept her gaze on the floor, because she couldn’t form a reason for halting.

“Don’t worry. As much as I want to take you to my bed, I won’t. Not tonight.”

Another surprise. Shara looked at him, wondering if he was telling the truth or was as adept at lying as her brother.

“I will take you,” he promised in a low, deep voice. “Hard. Often. Until you can’t stand. But not tonight.”

She shivered, but she wasn’t sure if it was because his words scared her. Or thrilled her.

He gave a tug of her arm that got her moving again. “Are you pleased with what you’ve seen here?”

“I am. Tell me more about what Taraeth is doing. The two Dragon Kings that were captured is all anyone can talk about.”

“I imagine it’s more that they can’t stop talking about how the Kings escaped.”

“Both. Is it true that there will be another war?”

“War is inevitable. It’s just a matter of when, not if. As for Taraeth’s plans, I can’t speak of those.” They reached the door to his chamber then. He pushed the heavy wood door open and motioned her inside.

Shara walked into the room to find more of the stuffed pillows tossed in piles on the floor. A massive four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room with sheer red drapes hanging at all four corners.

“Speaking of plans,” Balladyn said as he closed the door. “I hear a rumor Farrell has some of his own.”

“Farrell always has some kind of plan,” she said offhandedly.

“I’ll be visiting Cork soon to see what’s going on. These rumors have reached Taraeth, and he isn’t pleased.”

Shara turned to face Balladyn. He was leaning back against the door, blocking her way out. Had Balladyn been playing her all along? Did he only want information about her family? Anxiety soured her stomach. “If you have a question for me, ask. I’ll answer.”