Constantine: A History Part 2: (Dark Kings) Read online

  Her heart thudded. Did he recognize her? It wasn’t too late for her to use glamour. The night and its shadows helped to hide any number of things. Then again, a Dragon King was looking at her. A dragon with eyesight sharper than any other, one that was able to see in the night as well as they did in the day.

  The color of her eyes was distinctive. That could be the very thing that caused him to remember.

  “Iris,” she repeated.

  A small frown furrowed his brow. “Iris.”

  A soft breeze floated around them, ruffling his blond waves pulled back at his neck and causing a lock to come free from the rest and fall into his eyes. He blinked, seemingly unbothered by the hair tangled in his lashes.

  “And you are?” she asked, needing to keep up the ruse.

  Whenever she finally told Con the truth—however long until that time, because she would tell him—he would be furious that she had deceived him. Hopefully, he would allow her to explain why she had taken such action.

  “Constantine,” he replied after a long, silence. “Are you lost?”

  “Nay. I wanted to see the woods.”

  He glanced over her shoulder to the trees. “They called to you, you say.”

  “Aye.”

  “You’re no’ from Scotland.”

  Erith decided to tell some of the truth, but she would have to tread carefully. Con was the type of man who would latch on to something he wanted to know and not give up until he’d secured it. And she very much wanted to talk to him again. “I’m not from anywhere.”

  “Everyone is from somewhere.”

  She grinned. “Or everywhere. I travel.”

  “Alone?” he asked, a brow quirked.

  Erith bit back a smile since his reaction was similar to their first meeting. “I never said I was alone.”

  “You are now.”

  “So are you.”

  He narrowed his eyes slightly. Without uttering a word, she sensed his doubt about her.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the trees. “This is a beautiful place. Treasure it.”

  “Are you a Druid?” he asked, stepping to the side to stop her from leaving.

  “Nay.”

  His head tilted to the side slightly. “Fae?”

  Erith swallowed, becoming nervous. “Nay.”

  “But you felt the magic?” he asked with a hard look.

  “I said the woods called to me. I never spoke of magic.”

  He crossed his arms over his wide chest and pinned her with a stare, his arm muscles stretching the fabric of his shirt. “You talk of magic calmly, like someone who knows no’ only what it is but how to use it. If you didna have any, you would act like all the others and become outraged with fear at such talk.”

  “I’ve seen magic.” Once more, she found herself toeing the line between truth and fiction.

  No matter how much she wanted to tell Con who she was, now wasn’t the time. She’d felt a connection with the King of Dragon Kings the first time she saw him. She believed it was because he was the leader of such a powerful group of beings.

  On and off throughout the passage of time, she looked in on him, curious as to how he was doing. He was the one who held everything together at Dreagan. She didn’t think any of the other Kings even realized how hard Con worked—or the lengths he’d gone to for them.

  The sacrifices he made.

  The more she’d seen, the more she’d wanted to know Con. She’d taken that chance a century and a half ago, and it had confirmed what she already suspected—Con was someone she wanted as an ally.

  A friend.

  And yet, something stopped her each time she tried to tell him who she was. Not because he wouldn’t welcome her. Because of her past. There were things she never wanted to think about again. Things too…horrible to admit.

  She couldn’t get the words out again this time for fear of his disdain. Yet she knew that their paths were destined to intertwine again. Maybe then she would be able to tell him who she was. Maybe then….

  “You’ve seen magic?” he repeated softly, his face going blank. “How? When? By who?”

  “Would you believe anything I tell you?”

  “Nay,” he replied. “You’re lying to me, and I doona know why.”

  She put her hand into the pocket of her skirt and wrapped her fingers around the gift she’d brought. The metal was cool against her palm, and she worried that he might disregard anything she gave him.

  So she decided to change the subject.

  “Are you one of them?” she asked.

  He blinked. “One of who?”

  “The dragons,” she said, pointing over her shoulder.

  Erith inwardly smiled when a frown flashed quickly over his face. The unflappable Con was rattled.

  His gaze darted to the sky before they slid back to her, waiting.

  “Aye, I saw them,” she told him. “I gather you’re not pleased by that.”

  “I’m no’, but that can be remedied.”

  “I’m one woman. What harm can I do to you?”

  He dropped his arms. “You could destroy everything.”

  “Do you not trust anyone?”

  “No’ those I doona know.”

  She turned toward the water and sat. “That’s rather...sad. Life is about taking chances.”

  “And you know about that?”

  “Rather a lot, actually,” she admitted.

  Silence filled the air. She didn’t look at him, but it took everything she had to keep her head forward and not see what Con was doing—or thinking. Not that he showed anything—ever—but there was always a chance of glimpsing something.

  “I should have your memories wiped, and you escorted off our land,” he stated.

  She pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. “That is your right. Or…you could sit and talk to me.”

  “Why?”

  Erith shrugged. “Why not?”

  Once more, he fell silent. She listened to the water trickling downriver while a fox screamed in the distance. An owl swooped from the trees, catching a mouse in its talons before flying off.

  Finally, Con moved to stand beside her. Then, after another hesitation, he sat. “Do I know you?”

  Yes. “Wouldn’t I have told you if you did?” Death swallowed the bite of her lie. “I know why you hide here. It’s a stunning place to disappear, but you should find a way to get out among others.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they will find you eventually. You should be the one to set the rules, not them.” She turned her head to look at him. He was immortal, but the weight of responsibility, the lines of worry were there in the set of his mouth and the tone of his words. “Find a way to interact with the rest of the world while keeping your privacy.”

  He let out a snort. “That’s impossible.”

  “It’s not. You just haven’t found the right thing yet. You like control. Take it.”

  Con leaned back on his hands and stretched out his legs before him. “You talk as if you know all about me.”

  “Who says I don’t?” she replied with a smile.

  He didn’t return it as his gaze met hers. “Who are you?”

  “A friend who the trees called to. A friend who marvels at the dragons soaring in the clouds. A friend who wishes to help.”

  “A friend I doona know,” he replied softly.

  Too softly. He was angry and troubled. Not a good combination for anyone, but especially dangerous when it came to a Dragon King.

  She lifted her face to the sky. “Trust is a precarious thing. Some give it freely, while others hold it tightly to their chests. Those who are stingy are never rewarded.”

  “I know just how prickly trust is,” he stated, his words clipped. “I’ve felt the cold blade of betrayal, and it isna something one recovers from.”

  Erith wondered if Con realized that, even now, his anger wasn’t directed at Ulrik, it was because his friend had been so viciously deceived. Con hurt
for his friend. Because the betrayal he spoke of had been done to only one Dragon King—Ulrik.

  “Time heals all things.” She looked at him, wishing she could see his black eyes that faded into the night. “It heals treachery, friendships. And love.”

  That one word made Con stiffen. It was so slight, she would’ve missed it had she not been looking.

  “Time means nothing to me,” he replied.

  “Everyone measures time. Some in moments, some in years, and some in centuries. But it is a part of life.”

  He looked away. “How do you measure it?”

  Damn. She hadn’t thought about him asking her that. “By eras of my own choosing.”

  “So you doona conform?”

  “Why should I? The ones who say to act a certain way make up the rules to curtail others. Everyone has an inner code. They know right and wrong.”

  Con rolled onto his side toward her, propped up by one elbow as he regarded her. “But no’ everyone can distinguish between right and wrong.”

  “That’s true, but do the laws put in place help them choose? Nay. All they do is tell them what they’re doing is wrong—which they know anyway—and what punishment they’ll receive.”

  For the first time, there was a hint of a smile on Con’s face. “Verra true.”

  “You know the man you are,” she said. “You know your obligations and duties. You know what needs to be done, and you do it.”

  “How do you ken that?”

  She wanted to kick herself. She’d gotten carried away by their talk and was now paying the price for revealing too much. But she needed a friend. “I see it in your eyes. Even the way you approached me. But it was the fact that you didn’t throw me off your land that told me everything else.”

  “How do you know I willna toss you on your arse?”

  Erith smiled. “Because you sat to talk to me.”

  “Con? Is the intruder taken care of?”

  He wanted to ignore Royden, but he knew if he didn’t, it would bring others to him, and he didn’t want that. In fact, Con was quite content to be alone with the beautiful stranger. “Everything is fine,” he answered.

  Iris. Without comprehending how, he knew the name wasn’t hers. There was something about her that was familiar. The easy way they spoke should worry him, as if they were long-lost friends. But he would remember someone like her.

  She was utterly unforgettable. Not only because of her beauty, but also because of the gentleness that somehow went hand-in-hand with her spine of steel.

  He should’ve removed her from Dreagan immediately, but something, some unknown force he couldn’t name, stopped him. And once he began talking to Iris, he couldn’t seem to stop.

  A blind man would have been able to see that she held a wealth of secrets, but not once did he believe that she was there to do any harm to him or the other Kings. While she managed to evade his questions for the most part, he wasn’t angry. Just…continually curious.

  “Will you walk with me?”

  Her question took him off guard. Then again, everything she did surprised him. Con quite liked their spot near the stream, but he found himself saying, “Aye,” before he knew what was happening.

  She gave him a dazzling smile and rose to her feet in one fluid motion. He stood and looked down at her, noting that she barely came to his shoulders. A sudden, inescapable need to protect her rose within him.

  Her eyes blinked up at him, clear and sincere. In the moonlight, the lavender orbs had a fire unto themselves. A Druid she wasn’t. He suspected she was a Fae who used glamour to hide herself.

  Iris turned, her long, black hair swinging with her. She lifted her skirts and crossed the stream at its narrowest point and made her way into the thick trees. He followed a step behind her, still attempting to figure out why she was there.

  “Why did you speak of hope?” he asked.

  She stopped beside a small, creeping shrub. It wasn’t until she bent to smell the fragrant, delicate bloom that he realized what it was. A twinflower. Iris’s touch was gentle as she looked closely at the pinkish-white, downward-facing, bell-shaped flowers. He’d always found the little plants with their five-petaled flowers hanging on either side of a forked stem unique and quite pretty.

  Irish whispered something to the plant before she straightened and briefly met his gaze before continuing on. “Hope is what helps things continue. You’re losing yours.”

  He didn’t dispute her claim. “It’s a wasted emotion.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “From my experience, it only sets you up for disappointment.”

  Iris stopped and turned to him. “All of your experience? There isn’t one instance where hope gave you something in return?”

  Con looked away from her probing gaze. It was as if she could see straight into his soul, into the dark corners where he kept his most private desires and yearnings.

  “It takes someone with great strength to have hope,” Iris continued. “There is nothing about you that appears weak. Giving up. Well, that’s what a timid man does.”

  His gaze slid back to her. “Complimenting me now?”

  “Maybe.” Her smile was slow. “I don’t think you get enough of that.”

  “Speaking once more as if you know me.”

  She shrugged and turned to continue walking. Her hands brushed every tree and plant she passed as she made her way through the Dragonwood. To his amazement, animals drew near her as if summoned by some silent decree.

  He was positive she was Light Fae.

  “Why do you no’ want me to know who you are?” he asked.

  “Why does it have to matter? I come as a friend.”

  “Because I think you came for a reason.”

  She stopped again. This time, there were several beats of silence before she turned to him. “And if I did?”

  “I want to know why?”

  “I came to see you.”

  He raised a brow. “Why?”

  “To get to know you.”

  It was one of the few times where he believed she told the truth. “Did someone send you?”

  She shook her head and smiled softly. “I came on my own.” Her head fell back to look at the limbs of the trees towering over her. “This place is amazing. You’re lucky to have it.”

  “Do you have something similar?”

  “Aye.” She looked at him once more. “Everyone should have such a place. The peace it offers is infinite. I think it also gives us shelter when we might not even realize we need it.”

  He leaned a shoulder against an oak that was over five hundred years old. “The entire time you’ve been here, I’ve gotten the feeling that you’re trying to impart some kind of lesson.”

  “Perhaps,” she replied. “Maybe I’m just lonely and want someone to talk to about things that I’ve been thinking about.”

  “Do you no’ have anyone?”

  She glanced away but not before he saw the stark loneliness in her expression. “Not really. There are others, but….”

  Her words trailed off, and he waited for her to finish. When she didn’t, he said, “But, sometimes, you can’t talk to them because you doona want to worry them. Or it’s as simple as you can no’ tell them.”

  “Exactly,” she said with a slight curve of her lips. “That’s precisely it. Do you have any advice?”

  “Find someone you can talk to.”

  Her smile widened. “I think I just did. Will you be my friend, Con?”

  He didn’t hesitate to reply, “Aye. Does this mean you’ll tell me who you really are?”

  “I’m your friend. Can’t we let that be enough for now?”

  Con bowed his head because he knew he would get nothing else from her then. Perhaps the next time they met.

  “Do you have someone you can talk to?” she asked.

  He met her gaze. “You?”

  “Is that a question?” she asked with a laugh. “Of course, you can talk to me.”

  “But
can I trust you?”

  Her smile died as she stared into his eyes. “I vow on my life that you can.”

  He wanted to believe her, but how could he when he knew she lied? Though he enjoyed talking with her, he wouldn’t share his secrets. But she was a welcome distraction. Perhaps if their friendship progressed, she might earn his trust, and then he might open up to her.

  “I’ll prove it to you one day,” she said as if reading his thoughts.

  “Why is it so important?”

  She shrugged and turned her head away to look at two foxes playing. “I just have a feeling that we’re meant to be friends. I think one day, we may need each other.”

  Her words made him rethink the Druid part. “You can see the future?”

  “Nay,” she replied softly. “Even if I could, I don’t think I would. Knowing makes things worse.”

  “Or it would allow for different decisions.”

  Her head swiveled back to him. “How would you ever know if you changed anything? What if seeing the future and making a different decision is exactly why you were shown the future?”

  “I doona know,” he replied with a shrug.

  “It gets confusing.”

  Con pushed away from the tree and took a few steps closer to her. “Where do you live?”

  “Far from here.”

  “You willna tell me?”

  Sadness filled her face. “Not now.”

  “Do you no’ trust me?”

  Her eyes widened. “Of course, I do.”

  “Then tell me.”

  Her large eyes closed as she sighed and shook her head. “It isn’t that simple. I want to tell you, and I will.” Her eyes opened, spearing him with an intense look. “Just not today.”

  “I should remove you from Dreagan. I know it. Just as I know that I shouldna be talking to you.”

  “I’m glad you haven’t. And I’m really glad we are speaking. It’s not easy for me to say that I need to talk.”

  “You could’ve chosen anyone. Why me?”

  Her lips suddenly curved into a smile. “You’re the King of Dragon Kings. Only you would understand.”

  With a few words, she’d revealed something very important about herself. If only he could relate to her, then that meant she was in a position of power much like he was. He didn’t know any Fae like that, but in truth, he didn’t make it his business to learn anything about the Fae. Maybe he should.