Fire Rising (Dark Kings) (2 page)

BOOK: Fire Rising (Dark Kings)
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She licked her lips as she looked across the space to the windows on either side of her bed. If she could get to them, she could use the water pipes to slide down. But that was a big if.

“Where is Miss Miller?” the leader asked.

She was really beginning to hate that sophisticated tone of his.

Daniel refused to answer. A moment later she heard the unmistakable sound of a fist meeting a body. Daniel coughed, his wheezing breath telling her the punch had landed in his stomach.

“I’ll ask once more, Danny. Where is Miss Miller?”

“She’s not a part of this,” he said.

Sammi closed her eyes as she heard another punch being thrown.

“Right his chair, Fabian,” the leader said.

A chair scraped against her floor, then there was nothing but silence. Sammi’s imagination ran rampant with what could be going on.

“Danny?”

“She’s not here,” Daniel barked angrily. “Sammi took a couple of days off.”

There was a snort. “You mean you sent her away so you wouldn’t have to explain yourself to her, right?”

“Whatever you say, Mr.—”

Daniel was cut off with another punch to his face. Sammi opened her eyes and looked at the windows again. Her time was running out. The men wouldn’t take Daniel’s word for it. They would search the entire pub. If she wanted to see the sun rise, she couldn’t remain.

She drew in a deep breath and released it at the same time she dashed across the open doorway. Her thought had been speed, not stealth. A mistake she realized all too soon when a board creaked beneath her foot. She froze, and that’s when she heard the leader send someone to search upstairs.

Sammi’s hands shook as she tried to unlock the window. The adrenaline kept her from falling apart, but it was the panic that caused her to fumble.

She got it open when the first thug bounded up the stairs. With the lights out he couldn’t see her, but that didn’t stop him from firing off several shots around the room—one coming entirely too close.

While he groped for the lights, she wedged the window open enough so she could slip out. She had a grip on the pipes with her legs and one hand so she could lower the window until it was nearly shut.

Luck was on her side, because at that moment the lights flicked on.

Sammi heard voices out in front of the pub and quickly slid down the pipes as fear pushed her. She landed hard on the ground, tweaking her ankle. After a hasty look over her shoulder, she ran between empty crates and into the water with nary a sound just as footsteps running toward her grew louder.

Even in the dark water, she huddled against the dock, afraid they would see her. They were there waiting for her to make a noise and reveal herself, but she refused to do something so foolish.

Sammi shivered from the cool water and the terror gripping her. Any moment her life could be snuffed out, ending before she had accomplished any of her goals.

They walked to the edge of the docks and stood there searching the black water. The silence was the hardest. She silently begged them to talk, to say anything to break the quiet.

She got her wish when they began firing several rounds that zinged all around her like tiny missiles. After what seemed like hours, the leader called to his men and they walked off. Sammi waited until she heard their SUV engine turn over, and then she started to climb out of the water.

That’s when her pub blew up.

Sammi was forcefully thrown back into the sea by the impact. She looked up through the rippling waves and saw the flames shooting into the dark sky. It wasn’t until she started swimming that she felt a twinge in her shoulder.

She broke the surface and drew in a ragged breath, letting her burning lungs take in huge mouthfuls of air. People were running about, shouting as they tried to put out the fire so the rest of the street didn’t go up in flames as well.

Sammi swam father down the dock away from her pub and climbed unsteadily up the ladder. Only then did she touch her shoulder and hiss in a breath at the contact.

She fisted her hands, only to bite back a curse. When she glanced down at her palms, she found they were bleeding and raw from her journey down the pipes.

The adrenaline was putting off most of the pain, but that wouldn’t last long. She needed to put some distance between her and Oban before the real pain slammed into her.

 

CHAPTER ONE

One month later …

“Hey, sis, it’s me.”

Sammi rolled her eyes at her too bright tone as she drove her fourth stolen car. That would never do. She had to make Jane think it was an unplanned—and quick—visit.

If her half-sister got wind that she was in trouble, Jane would try to help. And that’s the last thing Sammi wanted her to do.

The truth was, she was desperate for some rest. True rest. Not the kind she’d been getting for the last four weeks where she slept for a few minutes at a time because there wasn’t a place she felt safe enough to give into the sleep her body needed to help it heal.

“Jane. It’s me,” Sammi said with a big smile. It quickly faded as she groaned. “I don’t know how to be casual. She’s going to see right through me.”

Nothing had been easy since she ran away from the docks. She didn’t want to chance using her credit cards out of fear the Mob might find her. She couldn’t even access her bank account for the same reason. At least Daniel’s money had been where he had said it was. That alone was what kept her alive.

She resorted to stealing cars that would be better off becoming a pile of metal than a mode of transportation. But she shouldn’t complain. The piece of shite she was driving now had managed to go fifty miles without breaking down.

“Just get me to Dreagan, P.O.S., and I won’t be tempted to torch you.”

As if to let Sammi know she wasn’t in control, the 1982 Morris Marina sputtered before the engine revved again.

Sammi forgot about the car and went back to finding a way to greet Jane without causing suspicion. She had gone through two more scenarios when she slowed the car as she came upon the turn Jane had told her about over a year ago, when she’d invited Sammi to a party after her and Banan’s wedding.

Another invitation she had made up an excuse not to attend. What kind of person was she to lie and not go to her sister’s wedding party?

She didn’t know how she remembered it since Sammi had been taking orders at the pub while on the phone, but somehow she had. And she was most thankful.

Slowing the car, Sammi drove down the long, winding road with two mountains flanking either side of her. On one occasion she thought she glimpsed someone in the dense trees, but it must have been her imagination, which was on overdrive since the incident, as she now called what had happened in Oban.

Sammi felt some of the tension leave her shoulders as Dreagan Industries came into view. Jane had invited her several times, but she had never been able to leave the pub. Now, as she took in the spectacular views, Sammi wished she would have.

She parked the car and wondered where the house was. Jane lived on the property, but all Sammi saw were buildings used for the production of Dreagan’s famous whisky.

For several minutes, she simply took in the white buildings with their red roofs, the sounds of the stills, and the tranquility that seemed to be a part of Dreagan itself as she got out of the car.

Jane had said Dreagan consisted of sixty thousand acres. From what Sammi could see, there wasn’t a part of it that didn’t take her breath away.

For the first time in over a month, Sammi didn’t feel that tickle on the back of her neck that said she was being watched. A look around confirmed that there were no suspicious cars, no dubious men who might be following her.

Maybe here she could finally relax. If for only a few days. She wouldn’t stay longer and bring the Mob to Jane’s doorstep. Not to mention Sammi was certain Jane’s husband, Banan, wouldn’t appreciate bad men coming and destroying the beauty of Dreagan.

“Are you here for the job too?”

Sammi jerked, startled by the voice behind her. The movement pulled at her slow-healing wound, causing her to hold her left arm against her side for protection. She turned to find a young woman with glossy black hair falling over one shoulder.

The woman’s black eyes glanced down to Sammi’s arm, concern clouding her face. “Are you hurt? Can I help?”

Sammi swallowed and gradually loosened her arm. “I’ll be all right, thanks.”

“You didn’t see how pale you were.”

“American, right?” Sammi asked to change the subject.

The woman briefly looked away as she nodded. “My mother was from South Africa while my father had dual citizenship with the US and Spain.”

“How interesting.” As a bartender, Sammi had a knack for spotting people who had a story to tell, and she could see that this woman was one of them.

She took a step closer and shoved her mane of midnight hair off her shoulder. “At least let me help you inside so you can collect yourself before the interview.”

Sammi instantly liked the woman, American accent and all. There was just something about her that told Sammi the woman was as kindhearted as the day was long.

“I’m not here for the interview,” Sammi told her.

The woman paused before she gave a little laugh. “Well, I’m glad. I really need this job.”

“Forget any competition. You have a natural ability with people. If the job involves that, they’d be fools not to give it to you.”

The woman beamed, her large black eyes crinkling in the corners. “Thank you. I’m Lily, by the way. Lily Ross.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lily. I’m Sammi.”

Lily moved her purse to her other shoulder, causing the sleeve of her sweater that was at least three sizes too big to fall and reveal a huge bruise on her arm.

“That’s one hell of a bruise,” Sammi remarked.

Lily laughed as she moved her sweater over it. “I’m as clumsy as they come. A laundry basket filled high and shoes in the middle of the floor, and I’m a catastrophe waiting to happen.”

“You should get along with Jane famously.” Sammi made a mental note not to have anything breakable around when Lily and Jane were together.

Lily looked Sammi up and down, a frown marring her forehead. “You need to sit. Shall I help you inside?”

“I think I’ll be okay, but I will walk with you.”

They had only gone a few steps when Lily asked, “How do you know I would be a good fit to interact with people?”

“It’s a gift I’ve always had. I can look at a person and just know. I used to run a pub, and I learned quickly that only certain kinds of people could work there and be successful. People like you.”

Lily smiled as she looked at the ground.

When she didn’t say anything, Sammi decided to push her a little. “What kind of job is it you’ll be interviewing for?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too important. It’s for the gift shop.”

“So you would be selling the Dreagan whisky to tourists?”

“I would.”

“It’s perfect for you. Be confident when you go in. And remember, it is an important job, because it’ll be yours.”

Lily’s smile widened, making the charming girl into a real beauty. She wore very little makeup and her clothes were too big and very drab.

Sammi, who had never had a close girlfriend, suddenly wanted to go shopping with Lily and outfit her with proper attire. Something bright and bold to complement her coloring. It must have been all the weeks hiding from the Mob that was messing with her mind.

It was a good thing they came to the door of the shop before Sammi did something really stupid and offer to bring Lily shopping, which might truly offend the woman. Lily might enjoy dressing as a sixty-year-old. Some women were just like that.

Despite her attire, Lily was a striking beauty with her black hair, black eyes, and mocha skin. The same couldn’t be said for her, but Sammi had learned to work with her stubborn hair and pale complexion early in life, thanks to her mother.

As soon as they entered the shop, Sammi looked around at the shelves that covered the walls and were filled with bottles of Dreagan whisky.

Some of the glass bottles where in small, colored casks denoting an added flavor in the whisky, while others were in the tall, rounded tins. There were other bottles that where about half the size, and still others that looked like some kind of cream liquor.

At the far back wall was shelving enclosed in glass with the bottles proudly displayed.

“Those would be the fifty-year-old scotches, and ones that are even older. They’re highly prized by collectors, and highly priced as well,” Lily said.

A woman with long, brunette hair with the top half pulled away from her face came around the counter and smiled at Lily. “You know your whisky.”

Lily turned to the woman and straightened her shoulders. “I’d like to think I do. I was called in for the interview.”

“Ah,” the woman said as she glanced behind her to the clipboard. “You must be Lilliana Ross.”

“Lily, please,” she said and held out her hand.

The woman took it and smiled. “I’m Cassie. Why don’t we go to the back and talk?”

Sammi watched the two Americans interact and recognized by Cassie’s mannerisms that she liked Lily. If Sammi was a betting person, she’d wager a hefty sum that Lily walked out with the job.

“Of course,” Lily said.

Cassie’s dark eyes lifted to Sammi. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Actually, I hope you can. I’m looking for Jane.”

“Jane?” Cassie repeated, some of the spark gone from her eyes.

Sammi wasn’t offended. Jane had mentioned how close everyone was at Dreagan, and now that she thought of it, she recalled Jane mentioning a Cassie.

“I’m Sammi Miller, Ja—”

“Jane’s half-sister,” Cassie finished for her with a kind nod. “Let me call the house and get her over here. She’ll be so pleased to see you.”

Sammi wasn’t so sure of that, but she needed at least a day of rest and to see to her wound again. It felt as if it were becoming infected.

She could barely move her arm now. Dressing and showering was becoming a chore with only one arm, not to mention trying to wash her hair.

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