What was done was done. The mortals had their uses—particularly the females. Thorn smiled. A great amount of time had passed since the last time he sampled a willing woman. He couldn’t wait until this shite with the Dark was over so he could enjoy himself a bit.
The smile died as his thoughts once more returned to Ulrik. Con had awakened every Dragon King because of the threat Ulrik posed to their way of life.
That in itself was enough to make Thorn conscious of the risk they were taking in including Ulrik in their plans. For Warrick’s sake, Thorn hoped Ulrik was as good as his word.
If not …
Thorn wouldn’t want to be Ulrik.
The plan was going into action in less than ten minutes. The way the Dark Fae gathered around Darcy’s shop made him wonder if they shouldn’t go sooner.
Thorn fisted, then flexed his hands. He was ready to kill more Dark. The fuckers were like fleas. You killed one and a hundred took its place. How he despised them and their use of the mortals.
He yearned to shift into dragon form and rain fire down upon the street, setting the wankers ablaze. It would be a fitting end to such scum.
As gratifying as that would be, Thorn held himself in check. Even if no other King admitted it, he knew it was a matter of time before the mortals discovered what they were. Until then, he would continue to keep his identity a secret and play by the rules set down so long ago.
It made Thorn yearn for the days when the mortals weren’t so many. Then they could get the Dark to follow them to a secluded piece of the country and settle things once and for all.
Even during the Fae Wars, it was everything the Dragon Kings could do to keep the mortals from discovering everything. It was one of the reasons Con accepted the truce. There had been too many close calls, and Con feared their exposure.
It would’ve been the perfect time for Ulrik to strike. It was a good thing he hadn’t had his magic then, because he would’ve succeeded.
Thorn hunkered low and made his way to the other side of the roof. He leapt across to the next building and walked the steep roof. As he was about to get set for Warrick to exit the shop and distract the Dark, one appeared in front of him.
“I knew there was another of you around,” the Dark sneered.
Thorn smiled, eager for a fight. “It took you idiots long enough to realize it.”
“But we have now.”
He looked at the Dark with his red eyes glowing and his short black hair streaked with thick stripes of silver. “Are we going to talk all day or fight?”
A ball of magic swirling black and silver appeared between the Dark’s hands. Thorn wasn’t about to wait on him to throw it. He took two steps, put his foot on the side of a chimney, and launched himself at the Fae.
Thorn knocked the ball of magic away and slammed his shoulder into the Dark, knocking them both off the roof to the ground. He was up first and pressed his knee into the Dark’s throat while he used his foot to keep one of the Dark’s arms flat.
The Dark gasped for air and tried to throw magic at Thorn with his free hand. Thorn reached behind his back and pulled out the small blade he always kept hidden. It was a Fae blade, one made in the Fires of Erwar.
Thorn lifted it over his head as the Dark’s eyes went wide as he recognized it. Thorn plunged it into one of the Fae’s eyes and twisted.
He yanked it out and wiped it on the Dark’s shirt before he stood and sheathed the dagger once more. Soon, the blade would feel more Dark Fae blood upon it.
*
Warrick was disappointed in Darcy’s answer. He felt for sure that she finally saw Ulrik for who he really was, and yet she still wanted his help.
She was right. The world needed the Dragon Kings. The humans had no idea the monsters the Kings kept from them.
If only she said she regretted helping Ulrik, or even that she wouldn’t do it now with all that she knew. Which meant she knew more about Ulrik than she let on.
That bothered Warrick more than he wanted to admit. He wished he knew what she saw in Ulrik. That might help him handle the situation better. As it was, Warrick was seriously considering pummeling Ulrik.
“Verra diplomatic, Darcy,” Ulrik said as he turned to Warrick. “Wouldn’t you say, War?”
Warrick shifted his gaze to Darcy. “It’s almost time. Are you ready?”
“No.” She gave a short laugh. “I’ve always fallen back on my magic in situations like this. I’ve never encountered anyone who my magic didn’t affect. I’m not sure what to do.”
He walked to her and stopped just short of touching one of the auburn curls that escaped her bun. Warrick could feel Ulrik’s gaze on them, and he wouldn’t let Ulrik know there was more going on between him and Darcy. “Your magic is strong. You’re the first Druid to touch dragon magic. Remember that. The Dark have weaknesses. They often underestimate their opponents. Doona let them do that to you.”
“Right,” she said, nodding.
“Keep your magic at the ready.”
She kept nodding, but Warrick saw the fear in her fern green eyes.
Ulrik gave him an impatient look when Warrick glanced at him. Warrick wished he was the one taking her up the building, but he had to be the decoy.