Darkest Flame (24 page)

“Rhi,” Con said in a soft, quiet voice. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?” she repeated in dismay. “I didn’t have to warn you of approaching danger. I didn’t have to stick around and warn Kellan and Denae the Dark Ones were coming. I didn’t have to follow them into that nasty dwelling. I didn’t have to return here and tell you anything. And each time what do you do? You demand more and order me about!”

Phelan took one of her hands. “Rhi.”

“What?” she yelled and looked at him.

He glanced at the hand he held. “You’re glowing.”

Rhi looked down to see that indeed her skin radiated the bright white light held inside certain Light Fae—a light that could be used to make life … or take it away.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on pushing aside her rage. When Rhi was once more calm, she opened her eyes to find everyone watching her.

“What was that?” Phelan asked.

Con leaned across the table and poured more whisky into a new glass before giving it to Rhi. “It’s something only a few Fae have. Simply put, Rhi could have leveled this manor and everyone inside.”

“Or brought life to a dying realm,” she added with a dark look to Con. Then she looked at Phelan, Aisley, and Tristan. “I let my anger get the better of me. For that, I apologize.”

“No need,” Aisley said with a reassuring smile on her face and in her fawn-colored eyes. “Were you about to talk about Denae and Kellan?”

Rhi sat back in the chair and pushed her long hair over her shoulder. She wanted a shower and new clothes after spending so much time with the Dark Ones. “The Dark are keeping them together. They know they can’t kill Kellan, so their plan is to torture Denae until he talks.”

“He willna do it,” Con said sternly, his eyes full of anger and regret. “He willna betray us, no matter what vow he gave Denae. And that … that will destroy him.”

Rhi nodded in agreement. “Yes. It will.”

“How did you get past all the Dark Fae?” Tristan asked.

She picked at her chipped nail. “I had to stay veiled.”

Con frowned. “Are you telling me you flitted in and out of that place hoping they wouldna see you?”

This she didn’t want to tell him. This was her secret, one no one else knew. If she explained now, Con would always know.

And he would
never
forget. The bastard had the memory of a damned elephant.

“No,” she said, hoping he would leave it.

She should’ve known better.

“You remained veiled for an extended period?” Con asked in disbelief, his jaw slack.

Rhi shifted in her chair. Damn Con for making her choose between lying and honesty. Of course he would remember how she loathed lying. She had gotten that from her mother’s side, a trait every Fae prayed they didn’t get.

“Rhi,” Con pressed.

It was on the tip of her tongue to lie, but even as she tried, her skin began to burn. She silently cursed the trait and sent Con her worst glower.

He merely lifted a blond brow.

“Yes,” she finally answered and banged her fist once on the table. “Damn you, Con. Why did you have to press?”

Aisley looked across the table to her husband. “Why not just lie?”

“Rhi can no’. No’ without great pain,” Con stated.

Rhi drained her glass and filled it again. “The Dark got into Denae’s mind. She kept talking about her sister, Renee, who drowned, and how everyone always left her. She was sinking into a depression. I tried to help her, but ultimately it was Kellan who pulled her out of it.”

“He did?” Phelan asked with a whistle. “That’s impressive.”

“That’s only part of it.” Rhi looked across the table at Con. “She’s immune to Dark Fae seduction.”

Con’s face went blank for a moment as surprise set in. “How?”

“No’ even the Dark know. They’re as baffled as I am. I’ve never heard of such before.”

Aisley said, “Well, that’s a bit of good news, isn’t it?”

“No,” Con and Rhi said in unison.

Rhi swallowed hard and looked at the table. “Her … aversion … to them has drawn the attention of Taraeth. He considers Denae a challenge, and he won’t rest until she is his.”

“Why did you leave them, then?” Con asked, his words clipped and hard.

Rhi lifted her gaze to him, then her head swung to Phelan. “I came for you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Cork, Ireland

Rhys knew the moment he saw the pub
an Doras
that it was a pub for the Dark Fae. He and Kiril exchanged glances and crossed the busy street.

The streetlights were bright, the night deep. Music played loudly and the young and beautiful filled the pub. Rhys spotted the large Dark Fae guarding the door.

He stood facing the street, his hands clasped in front of him, his long, silver-streaked black hair pulled back in a braid.

“I’m going to ask him where he got those red contacts,” he heard a young female ask, rushing to the Dark.

“Think he’ll recognize us as Kings?” Kiril asked as both men slowed once they reached the sidewalk.

Rhys shrugged while watching the Dark zero in on the flirty female asking about his supposed contacts. “A possibility. I’ve got an idea, though.”

Kiril raised a brow, but merely smiled when Rhys motioned to the four twentysomething girls standing around a streetlamp. “Oh, I like your thinking.”

As one, the two changed directions and headed to the women. The females saw them approaching, and each stood straighter, pushing out their breasts.

It was really too bad they were on business, because Rhys would like nothing more than to take two of the girls and pleasure away the night.

“Hello,” said a female with deep red hair and sparkling green eyes. She had tried to cover her freckles with a ton of makeup.

Rhys stopped beside her. “I’ve always been partial to redheads, green hair, and freckles.”

“Freckles?” she asked, her eyes glued to him.

Rhys nodded. “Freckles.”

“What are you lasses doing this evening?” Kiril asked as he came up between two of the girls, giving each a wink.

A tall, leggy blonde looked Kiril up and down. “Scotsmen, aye? What would we want with you?”

Rhys laughed and tugged the redhead against him. “After a taste of a Scot, you’ll never look elsewhere again.”

A brunette smiled seductively. “That’s quite a boast.”

“I’m quite a man,” Rhys said. “Why no’ let us buy you lovely lasses a drink and we can … debate … this more.”

“I’m game,” Freckles said.

The others were quick to acquiesce. Even as the six of them made their way to the door of
an Doras,
Rhys knew there might be a chance he would have to use magic against the Dark Fae guarding it.

But just like any man being ruled by his cock, the Dark barely paid him or Kiril a glance with the four young females around them.

Once inside, Rhys had to fist his hands as he looked around at all the Dark Fae disappearing with the men and women of Cork behind hidden doors in the walls.

Some came out again, their souls all but gone.

Others were never heard from again.

Rhys glanced down at the females around him. There’s no way he could leave them in good conscience. At Kiril’s grim look, he had come to the same conclusion.

“This place isna for you lasses,” Kiril said over the music.

The women immediately took offense, all talking at once. Before Rhys could diffuse the situation, a Dark Fae with short hair and an expensive suit walked up.

“Is there trouble here?” he asked smoothly, eyeing Freckles.

Rhys held Freckles closer to him. “Nay.” The less he said, the more he might get away without the Dark realizing he was Scottish.

The red eyes of the Dark lifted to him. “I was asking the ladies.”

Freckles, as if sensing something was amiss, took the hand of the female closest to her. “Nothing’s wrong. We just wanted to leave.”

“Leave?” the Dark asked, his gaze narrowed on her. “Why would you want to leave?”

“They’ve had a long night,” Rhys said as he stepped between Freckles and the Dark Fae.

Red eyes blazed, completely focused on Rhys. All the while, Kiril was quickly and silently getting the four mortals out of the pub.

“You’re a Scot,” the Dark said, his lips peeled back in displeasure, as if just saying the word was revolting.

“And you’re Irish. I’m so glad we got that settled,” Rhys said with a fake smile. “Now, tell me why all of you are wearing those red contacts.”

It went against every instinct Rhys had not to kill the Dark, but he needed information—information about the Dark Ones, their plans, but more importantly where they might be keeping Kellan and Denae.

The Dark Fae rolled his eyes and turned on his heel to disappear in the crowd.

Kiril slapped him on the back. “Quick thinking.”

“Are the females safe?”

“Aye. They’re also verra afraid. I doona think they’ll come near this place again.”

“Good.” Rhys scanned the bar until he found two stools. “Time to get to work.”

Kiril rubbed his hands together. “With pleasure.”

*   *   *

Denae couldn’t move. Emil had used his magic to hold her against the wall, the cool, damp stones making her shiver.

There was an unnatural light to his red eyes, one that said it was his time to play—and he was going to take full advantage of it.

She wanted to look at Kellan and see how he’d fared with Taraeth, but she didn’t dare. The second she did could be the second Emil slipped into her mind.

Kellan had told her to stay vigilant, and that’s what she was going to do. No matter how much it killed her to do it.

There was a bellow of rage that erupted from Kellan. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him jump to his feet and lunge for Taraeth, the chain stopping him just short of the Dark leader.

There was a loud snap, and Denae winced because she knew that was Kellan’s shoulder popping out of joint. And still he reached for Taraeth.

She couldn’t see Taraeth’s face, but she supposed it looked similar to Emil’s, which was alight with glee and satisfaction. They thought they had won.

Perhaps they had.

For the moment.

But Denae had no doubt that one day Kellan would get free. When he did, he would leave nothing but destruction and death in his wake.

She didn’t know much about the Dragon King, but she recognized the thread of danger, the layer of dark menace lurking just beneath the warm skin and thick muscle.

A scrap of recklessness he held firmly in check.

Until someone pushed him.

He was absolute power, total dominance.

Utter, breathtaking control.

Even in a rage and bloodied, he was magnificent. At that instant, Denae fully comprehended him as a Dragon King. He was protector, defender, and guardian of the realm.

He was also judge, jury, and executioner of any who dared to harm it.

“You look at me, but you think of him,” Emil said as he leered at her. “I can’t have that.”

Denae swallowed and focused fully on the Fae before her. He was a nuisance, a pest who could do untold damage to her body and mind if she wasn’t careful.

“Are you sure it’s Kellan I’m thinking of?” she asked with a sly look.

Emil’s lips peeled back as he reached for her shirt. In one yank, he ripped her oversized shirt in two, leaving it hanging precariously on her arms.

The only things separating her bare skin from the Fae were her cami and yoga pants. In mere seconds, even those were gone.

Denae was plastered against a wall, bare-assed and unable to defend herself against her would-be attacker. It was humiliating.

And infuriating.

Denae had never felt such rage, such sheer ferocity. It replaced the fear, leaving her cold and calculating. She let her gaze rake over the Dark Fae in contempt.

“How sad. You can’t even make one insignificant human want you in the smallest way. Your two friends witnessed it before. I bet they’re talking about you now. How quickly do rumors spread among your people, I wonder?”

The laughter and desire instantly faded from his eyes, replaced with evil intent. His hand wrapped around her throat and began to squeeze.

Behind them, she caught a glimpse of Taraeth looking over his shoulder. His eyes glowed red right before he bellowed Emil’s name.

“She is mine!” Taraeth shouted.

Emil’s hand dropped and he stepped away from her, but in his gaze, he promised retribution.

If Denae thought she would be released to have control over her own body again, she was dead wrong. With Taraeth’s attention now on her, he faced her and smiled wickedly.

“Ah, but I knew your body would please me, little human.”

Denae might be afraid of Emil, but she was terrified of Taraeth. There was something about the Dark leader that made her want to huddle into a corner and cover her head with her hands.

He was the evil in the darkness, the malevolence lurking in the shadows waiting to snatch unsuspecting females. He was death in disguise as pleasure, but she saw him for who he truly was.

And it terrified her.

She wished her clothes were still on. Denae felt powerless and incapable, helpless and weak. Instantly she thought of her sister and how her eyes had pleaded with Denae to believe her about her stalker.

Denae’s chest constricted as emotions tumbled upon her like an avalanche. Instantly, she shut off those memories and focused on herself.

There had to be a way for her to turn Taraeth off from her. Name-calling hadn’t helped. Neither had her aversion to them. In fact, that had seemed to set them off. The only thing left for her to do was to pretend to give in.

Taraeth took three steps toward her, his red eyes raking her from head to toe and back again.

“Are you done with me already?” Kellan asked.

Taraeth stilled, his advance halted with Kellan’s words. Denae had a reprieve, but she wasn’t sure it was going to be much of one based on the eagerness in the Dark leader’s eyes.

“Rest, Dragon. I’m going to take some enjoyment,” Taraeth stated with a wide smile directed at her.

Denae wrinkled her face. “I think you might be disappointed.”

So much for her pretending to give in. The thought of his hands on her made her physically ill, and the words tumbled from her lips before she could think better of them.