Fever--A Dark Kings Novel Read online

  The waiter wisely walked away before the man approached. Bernadette shoved her hair back from her face and tried not to fiddle with her hands—a nervous habit she had yet to break.

  “Good evening.”

  Damn. His voice was as smooth and rich as velvet. It had just the right amount of husky timbre that made bumps rise on her flesh.

  She had been raised along Scotland’s border with England, so it wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard a Scots brogue before, but there was something unique about his. Something wild and untamed that made every nerve ending in her body stand up and take notice.

  To her delight, her voice came out strong and clear when she gave him a nod of greeting and said, “Good evening. Please, join me.” She motioned to the chair opposite her.

  He pulled out the seat and lowered himself into it before his eyes met hers once more.

  “Thank you for the drink,” she continued. “Why do you believe that I’ve not drunk whisky before?”

  Instead of answering, he asked, “Have you?”

  “No.” Damn him. She should’ve guessed that he’d come back with such a comment.

  “Try it,” he urged.

  “I’m not much of a drinker. I’ll occasionally have a glass of wine, but that’s it.”

  The man shrugged one shoulder. “Please, doona feel as if you have to drink it.”

  Well, now she wanted to more than ever. “It’s always good to try new things, right?”

  One side of his mouth kicked up in a grin. Bernadette spotted even, white teeth. His eyes were the color of amber, and they blazed with a fire that mesmerized her and made her breath catch in her throat.

  Her stomach clenched as she continued staring into his beautiful eyes. Finally, she lifted the glass to her lips, but just before she took a drink, he stopped her.

  “Smell it first,” he urged. “Let the flavors of the whisky invade your nose before they hit your tongue.”

  The way he’d said it made it sound so … sensual. As if they were about to do something sexual, not drink Scotch. She swallowed and inhaled the scent of the whisky as he’d advised.

  To her shock, she quite liked it. It was nutty, and she could definitely smell the peat moss used. But there was something else she recognized yet couldn’t quite name.

  She looked at him over the rim of the glass. Their eyes met and held. She sat there surrounded by the smell of whisky and the presence of a man that set her on edge and made the air around them fairly crackle.

  “Now, drink,” he told her in a soft voice.

  Without hesitation, she let the liquid touch her tongue, and her mouth exploded with flavor. She tasted the peat moss and the nuttiness she’d smelled, but she also noticed a smokiness. The Scotch was heavy and bold. It burned slightly as it went down her throat and settled into her stomach, but she went back for another sip.

  The man’s smile was slow, his gaze stating that he’d known she would like it. Bernadette licked the whisky from her lips as she set the glass on the table.

  “Are you ready to order, madam?” the waiter asked as he walked up, seemingly out of nowhere.

  She’d forgotten all about being hungry. Bernadette opened the menu again and quickly scanned the items, looking for something that was reasonably priced.

  “The smoked salmon is particularly good,” the man said.

  Salmon was one of her favorite dishes. She hadn’t had it in months. It sounded so good that she didn’t even look at the price. “I’ll have that,” she told the waiter.

  The man then turned to her table companion, who waved him off.

  Once they were alone again, Bernadette leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. “I would introduce myself, but I believe you already know who I am.”

  “I do.”

  She liked that he hadn’t tried to lie. She’d give him props for that, at least. Bernadette raised a brow, waiting for him to offer his name.

  He chuckled and said, “I’m Keltan Dreagan, but you already knew I was from Dreagan.”

  “I did,” she confessed. Bernadette wracked her brain, trying to remember if he’d been in her lecture, but she couldn’t place seeing him. Not that she paid attention to every face—something she would need to change.

  “I came to hear your talk.”

  She let out a sigh. “I see. For one of you to come, those at Dreagan must be worried about what I’m going to say.”

  His lips twisted as he lifted a shoulder. “Every business has an interest when they learn someone is telling wild tales about them.”

  “But they aren’t so wild. They’re the truth.”

  “You believe you know the truth?” he asked, a blond brow arched.

  There was something in his words that gave Bernadette pause, yet she found herself saying “Yes.”

  “Hmm,” he said as he took a swallow of his whisky. “You have quite a few theories, Dr. Davies.”

  “Are you here to tell me I’m wrong?”

  “As I said, I came to listen to what you had to say.”

  She laughed and reached for the Scotch once more. “And the drink?”

  “No’ something I intended, but I doona regret it.”

  “Despite everything I said about Dreagan?”

  He glanced at his hands that rested in his lap, one large one holding the tumbler. “I was curious about you.” His lids lifted, and amber eyes caught hers.

  “Curious?” she repeated, a little thrill running through her that she didn’t understand or expect.

  “Something must have happened that turned your focus to Dreagan.”

  “And you want to know what that was,” she said with a smirk.

  Keltan shook his head. “Dig into Dreagan Industries all you like. We give substantial sums to various charities around the globe. You’ll no’ find anyone in our company who’s been arrested or given so much as a speeding ticket.”

  “That’s just it, Mr. Dreagan. You and everyone at your company are squeaky clean. Too clean, in fact.”

  He chuckled and sat up in his chair, bracing his forearms on the table. “Are you honestly telling me that the fact we’re no’ breaking the law and do right by others means we’re a target? Lass, there are plenty of other people for you to go after. Throw a stone, you’ll hit one.”

  “So, you’re not a dragon.”

  Her words stopped him in mid-rise from his chair. He slowly lowered himself back down and leaned close to her. “Do you know how daft you sound?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You should. I dug into you, Dr. Davies. You had a stellar career, one that only a fool would throw away so nonchalantly. You were respected, and with just a few printed words from your first post about dragons, you lost that respect.”

  She leaned forward and lowered her voice since she saw others in the restaurant staring at them. “I don’t care what others think.”

  “That’s shite,” he stated, no heat in his words.

  She ignored him and continued, “If you knew something was true, that something extraordinary was real, would you keep it to yourself? Or would you tell the world?”

  “I doona know what proof you think you have, but there is no such thing as dragons. They’re nothing but mythological creatures.”

  “Then why do you have them on your logo? Dreagan is Gaelic for dragon.”

  Keltan shrugged and shook his head. “Dragons, griffons, and a host of other mythological creatures have been used for eons as logos and on family crests. Why does anyone choose such a logo? You’re reading far too much into this, I’m sorry to say.” With a nod, he stood. “Goodnight, Dr. Davies.”

  She could only watch as he walked away.

  CHAPTER THREE

  They were so fucked.

  Keltan stood in the shadows outside the restaurant and watched as Bernadette Davies got into her car and drove away just as the rain began. There was no doubt in his mind that she would continue on her quest to expose Dreagan. They had to stop her. But how?
r />   Nearly the entire room she had spoken to had been converted to her way of thinking. Those people would tell others, and those would tell even more people. Not to mention, Bernadette would hold more talks, write columns, and appear in more places, converting more and more people.

  “Bollocks,” he grumbled and walked to the white G-Class Mercedes SUV that he’d driven to Glasgow.

  He climbed inside, but he didn’t start the engine. Keltan was too wired to sit still for the three-hour drive back to Dreagan. He wanted to take to the sky and soar among the clouds, weaving in and out of them, all while forgetting—if only for a little while—that the Dragon Kings were nothing more than caged animals.

  Except the mortals had no idea that bars held them back.

  He really wished Con was there. Keltan might not always agree with every decision the King of Dragon Kings made, but in the end, they were the right ones. Now, too much was pushing against the Kings.

  For thousands upon thousands of years, the Kings’ secret had been kept safe, their identities firmly concealed. Then the spell Con had cast on them never to feel any deep emotion for the humans was broken, and the Kings began to fall in love.

  Keltan squeezed his eyes shut. He had no problem with his brethren finding their mates and bringing them to Dreagan to live. What he did have an issue with was those same mates now being the focus of an investigation into Dreagan.

  And it wasn’t as if they could haul out any of the women Bernadette had listed to say anything against her, because Dr. Davies would surely be prepared for that. No matter how good any of the mates were at answering questions, one of them would get tripped up. And that’s all it would take for anyone previously skeptical about Bernadette to begin to wonder and entertain the idea that those at Dreagan were more than they said they were.

  That was the last thing the Kings needed. Not when they were still searching for Con.

  Keltan opened his eyes and slammed the heels of his hands against the steering wheel. He still couldn’t believe that Constantine was unable to get free of the Queen of the Light. Con was the strongest, most powerful of all Dragon Kings. And the Kings’ magic was more formidable than any other on the realm.

  But if Con could get free, why hadn’t he? Why was he staying with Usaeil? All the Kings knew that Con had no feelings for her.

  “We’re missing something,” Keltan said.

  But, for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it was.

  There was Rhi. Keltan blew out a breath. Of late, the Light Fae hadn’t exactly been someone the Kings could count on. She was going through her own problems involving Usaeil. Rhi and Con were supposed to attack the Light Queen together, but it had been pushed back again and again. And now look where they were.

  A flash of lightning filled the sky the same instant a man appeared before the SUV. Keltan’s enhanced senses allowed him to see the Fae’s silver eyes in the dark.

  The man was a giant with short, black hair. He wore dark denim and a white shirt that molded to his upper body. The man said nothing, simply stared at Keltan through the windshield while standing in the rain. But this was no ordinary Fae. The Light didn’t mingle with the Kings, preferring to keep their distance.

  The Dark Fae, well, they were another matter entirely with their red eyes and the silver in their black hair. They had been actively attacking the Kings ever since the Fae Wars. And while both the Light and Dark could use glamour to alter their appearance, the Kings could see through such magic.

  The man before Keltan was a Light Fae. And Keltan was curious as to what he wanted.

  Keltan exited the vehicle and stood in the rain that now came down in thick sheets. He shut the SUV door and walked toward the man. The closer Keltan got, the surer he was that this wasn’t just any Light Fae. He stood like a warrior, like someone who had seen plenty of battles.

  Though Keltan didn’t have much interaction with the Reapers when they came to Dreagan, he knew of them. Could this be one of them? And if so, why was he here?

  “Cautious,” the man said with a slight smile, his Irish accent thick. “You scared of me?”

  Keltan snorted loudly. “The day I’m afraid of any Fae is the day the Dragon Kings will no longer be.”

  The man smiled widely then. “I knew I’d like you. I’m Rordan.”

  “Keltan.”

  Rordan nodded. “I know who you are.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I was sent by Eoghan.”

  Now that was a name Keltan knew. Eoghan had been part of the original seven Reapers, but he now led another group. “Why? Should you no’ be talking to Ulrik or one of the others?”

  Rordan shrugged. “You’d have to ask Eoghan or Death that. They told me to come here and speak with you.”

  “What can I do for you?” Keltan asked.

  “We just learned what happened to Constantine.”

  Keltan clenched his teeth. If the Reapers knew, then it was good odds that all Fae knew. “How did you find out?”

  “Eoghan. He went to visit Con at Dreagan and learned that Con had been taken by Usaeil.”

  Keltan let out a breath. That was good news, at least. There was a chance that the Fae didn’t know about Con. Not that they would be stupid enough to attack. With or without Con, the Kings could—and would—defend not only Dreagan but also the world.

  “Can Death find Con?”

  Rordan shrugged as rain dripped from his face. “She has the ability to find any Fae, but Con isn’t a Fae.”

  “Then she can locate Usaeil. Once we find her, we’ll find Con.”

  Rordan glanced away. “I’m not here about that.”

  “Then why are you here? To piss me off? Because you’re doing a bloody good job,” Keltan said tightly.

  “I’m here to let you know the Reapers are monitoring the situation.”

  Keltan’s brows rose in disbelief. “Monitoring? Wow. That’s … shite. Death, who I might add befriended Con hundreds of years ago and has given him gifts, willna do anything? What is that friendship for then?”

  “I knew he needed guidance,” said a feminine voice from behind Keltan.

  He turned around to see a beautiful, petite woman with long, black hair hanging to her waist and lavender eyes. She was clothed all in black, a curious and sensual mix of leather and chain mail. Keltan knew in an instant that he was speaking to Death—aka, Erith.

  Death wasn’t alone. Beside her was someone Keltan did recognize, Cael, the leader of the first group of Reapers. Though Cael’s eyes were no longer silver, but instead a dark purple.

  “Some things have happened,” Cael said.

  Keltan could sense the strength of Cael’s magic. It now matched Death’s. If there was anyone who could destroy the Kings, it was Death herself.

  “I’m not here to harm you,” Erith said. “I’m here because of your anger.”

  Keltan crossed his arms over his chest as he glanced at Rordan. “Was your messenger no’ doing his job?”

  “No, you’re being an ass,” Cael stated as he blinked through the rain.

  Erith put a hand on his arm as they shared a look. Then her lavender eyes swung back to Keltan. “I can feel the collective pain, worry, and anxiety of the Kings. Each of you is connected to the magic of this realm, and all those emotions beat through the magic—and straight into me. I couldn’t ignore it any longer.”

  “Con needs help.”

  “Does he?” Death asked, a black brow raised.

  Keltan dropped his arms and looked away, shaking his head. “You think the same as everyone else.”

  “You mean, the same as you.” Erith smiled faintly. “You know Con’s might and power. You know he could get away if he so chose.”

  “Is that why you willna tell me where Usaeil is?”

  For the first time, Keltan saw uncertainty cross Death’s face. She swallowed loudly and lowered her eyes to the ground, ignoring the rain that soaked them. Several seconds ticked by in silence before she finally returne
d her gaze to him.

  “I don’t know where Usaeil is.”

  The statement floored Keltan. Death, the one being who could find any Fae, was unable to locate the Light Queen? “How is that possible?”

  “Usaeil is using more than Fae magic,” Cael said.

  Keltan nodded. “Aye. We recently learned she incorporates Druid magic, as well.”

  “Whatever she’s doing, it’s hindering my ability to locate her,” Erith said. “I told Rhi that Usaeil was hers to destroy, but she’s waited too long.”

  “So, you went after Usaeil yourself,” Keltan guessed.

  Death nodded. “Only to come up empty-handed.”

  “There has to be a way.”

  “There is,” Rordan stated.

  Keltan looked at him for a long moment before his gaze slid back to Erith and Cael. “Tell me.”

  Death drew in a deep breath and then released it. “There is much about Usaeil none of you know. Many things I’ve only recently discovered. Rhi was right. I should’ve sent the Reapers to claim Usaeil long ago.”

  “What? What did she do?” Keltan asked, the pit in his stomach growing.

  “She was damn smart,” Cael said.

  Rordan moved to stand on the other side of Erith. “She knew the Dragon Kings would be focused on Ulrik and his uncle, Mikkel. That bought her the time she needed.”

  Keltan shook his head. “I doona understand. As much as it makes me gag to even think about Con and Usaeil as lovers for a brief time. He knew her every movement.”

  “That’s what she led him to believe,” Erith said. “But she had her own agenda. We’ve all underestimated her. And I fear she might very well win this war.”

  Keltan felt the anger rise up in him, but he tamped it down. “No’ when so many stand against her. The Kings are with Rhi, and Balladyn with his Dark Army will be, as well.”

  “The King of the Dark would follow Rhi anywhere,” Cael said. “Balladyn is good for the Dark.”

  Keltan let out a bark of laughter. “Good? You’re telling me that he’s actually good for the Dark?”

  Death’s lavender eyes turned icy as she narrowed them on him. “Every being on every realm has the opportunity to be either good or bad. Which is right, which is wrong? Who are you to make that decision?”