Laith leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. As usual Con was dressed in a suit, though his jacket hung on a hook on the wall. It was an appearance Constantine had taken two hundred years before, and it had stuck.
While the other Kings were content to wear comfortable clothing—no matter what time period they were in—Con was different. Always had been, and always would be.
“You think we need to go after Kiril?” Laith asked.
Con’s forehead furrowed, his onyx eyes serious, thoughtful. “That would speed the war coming. Nay, I just want him home.”
“He will soon enough. As much as I doona want him there either, he’s spying.”
“They know who he is.”
Laith grinned. “Perhaps, but they willna expect him to know that or to respond to them as I imagine he will.”
“They’re using a female Dark to seduce him.”
That caused Laith to pause. “I know Kiril. He willna fall for something so obvious.”
“I doona think he will either, but that doesna mean the Dark doesna have other tricks.”
“I’ll go to Ireland.”
Con shook his head. “I can no’ send another King into that nest of evil.”
“Then who? You certainly can no’ send a human.” When Con merely returned his look, Laith pushed away from the wall. “You’re no’ really thinking of asking the Warriors?”
“Who else is there? Rhi? She’s already been taken by Balladyn.”
“I know. I was there,” Laith stated coldly.
“Phelan calls for updates on Rhi. He asks every day if he can join in the rescue when we find her.”
Laith rubbed the back of his neck. “You did remind him that no Light Fae has ever come back from the Dark the same? Most likely Rhi is already … Dark.”
“I know,” Con said quietly, too quietly.
“Phelan has Aisley, Con. The Warriors may be immortal with powers thanks to the primeval gods inside them, but they can be killed.”
“So can we.”
“Only by another Dragon King. Anyone can take a Warrior’s head.”
Con stood, his hands on the desk as he leaned forward. “Kellan and Tristan were already taken by the Dark. I can no’ and willna have another King in the hold of those malicious beings.”
Laith tilted his head to regard Con. “Tristan said the Dark was asking for something. They believe every Dragon King knows where it’s hidden, but we doona. Only you know.”
“And Kellan,” Con said.
Of course. Kellan would know everything since he wrote the history of the Dragon Kings. “What is it the Dark are after?”
“Leave it, Laith.”
“What could it possibly be?” he pressed.
Con sucked in a breath and went back to gazing out his window. “If my predecessors thought it important enough to keep secret, who am I to argue?”
“It was kept secret from the rest of the Kings?”
“Aye. The first King of Kings hid it, and each of us who have taken the position has kept it hidden.”
Laith shifted uncomfortably. It had to be great indeed if Con felt the need to conceal it from all of them. “Is it dangerous?”
“Extremely. Trust me. We doona want it to fall into the hands of the Dark.”
“That shouldna be a problem if only you and Kellan know the location.”
Con looked at him over his shoulder. “Doona underestimate the Dark. Ever. They’ll figure out a way, and I need to be prepared for that.”
*
Kiril was sitting on the sofa in his room staring out the window at the dawning of a new day. It’s where he had gone after returning from dropping off Shara.
It had been everything he could do to drive away from her. Every instinct he had told him to bring her back with him—and he didn’t mean the estate. He meant Dreagan.
His gaze went to the cushion beside him when his mobile phone vibrated. He always kept the phone with him, but none of the Kings contacted him in that manner when they could converse through their link without fear of the Dark ever intercepting the call.
Kiril lifted the phone, frowning when he recognized Rhys’s number. He took the call and lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Well, I didna wake you,” Rhys said, a smile in his voice.
“Nay. I’m awake.”
“Did you rise early?”
Kiril focused his gaze back out the window though he didn’t see the trees or the flowers. “In a manner.”
“You didna sleep at all, did you?” Rhys asked, irritation deepening his voice.
“Nay.”
“I can be there in a few hours.”
Kiril smiled despite himself. “No’ even funny, you reckless bastard.”
“I’m no’ joking.”
The smile left Kiril. “I know, but it’s no’ wise.”
“Neither is you being there by yourself.”
“As I told you before, it’s better if it’s just one of us.”
“It should’ve been me,” Rhys grumbled.
Kiril could practically see Rhys’s aqua eyes narrowed in exasperation. “It was fair and square.”
“It was a fucking rock, paper, scissors game, jerk.”
“Quit your complaining, dick.” Kiril found the tension easing in his muscles. Rhys had always known just what to do to bring him out of any kind of funk.