“What did you find?” Ryder asked.
She glanced at him before frowning back at the screen. “I decided to try and see who all I know at Kyvor. There are thirty in the top brass. I’ve personally met two of them.” She pointed to the first picture. “Cecil, my boss.” Then she pointed to the next picture of a young woman with bleach-blond hair and a bright white smile. “And Harriet, who Cecil answers to.”
Ryder studied the two for a moment before he began to tap the virtual keyboard. Kinsey was shocked when he pulled up her employee folder and began to look through it.
“You’ve had four promotions in three years,” he said with a nod of approval.
Kinsey sat a little straighter. “That’s right.”
“You made some major moves through the company, Kins, which means you caught the attention of more than Cecil and Harriet.”
She always loved when he shortened her name. Other people did it and she lost her mind, but not with Ryder. It was the way he said it, as if it were an endearment.
“Did you hear me?” he asked as he turned his face to her.
Kinsey could’ve kicked herself. “Yeah. Of course, I heard you.”
“You didna say anything.”
She shrugged. “What is there to say? You’re stating facts.”
“What I’m doing is pointing out that every one of those top executives knows you.”
Kinsey dropped her head back against the chair and blew out a breath. If she could stop thinking of Ryder as a lover, and think of him as a co-worker, she might actually get her brain to function properly.
“Right,” she said and lifted her head. “I need to see which one has it out for me.”
“We,” Ryder corrected.
Kinsey felt herself softening to him. Dammit. This isn’t what she wanted. She couldn’t. But it was so-damn-hard not to. She gave a nod, refusing to look into Ryder’s hazel eyes again. “A simple search of me wouldn’t bring up my love life.”
“They didna do a simple search.”
At those words she had no choice but to look at him. Kinsey began to worry as she saw the frown deepening Ryder’s forehead. “What do you mean?”
“Knowing about us, about our connection, means that someone has probably been following you.”
Kinsey shook her head. “No. That can’t be right. I’m a nobody.”
“You were with me,” he said in a voice filled with sadness.
She dropped her head into her hands and then used her fingers to rake her hair out of her face as she squared her shoulders and sat up. “Then they weren’t following me. They were following you.”
“Most likely. My being with you brought you under scrutiny.”
“I still don’t understand how anyone at Kyvor could get ahold of such information.”
“Ulrik.” Ryder said the name as if it were poison on his tongue.
Kinsey shivered, because she had a feeling the more they dug into this, the more she was going to learn about how intricately she and Ryder were joined.
She wasn’t sure how that made her feel. Part of her was pleased Ryder was with her, because she knew if anyone could help her through this it was him.
But another part dreaded and feared being part of a world she wasn’t ready to accept.
Ready or not, she was planted right in the middle of things.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ireland
Dark Fae Palace
Taraeth knew he was walking a fine line, but as king of the Dark, it was something he did with style. After all, no Dark had ever ruled as long as he.
And he remained in control because he had a way of putting the right people around him. As well as choosing sides.
It wasn’t as if the Dark had a lot of people wanting to be allies. But only a fool would turn down an offer that could gain the Dark dominion over the humans.
“Did you hear me?”
Taraeth hated the British accent Mikkel used when he was attempting to pretend he was better than everyone else. The only time Mikkel’s Scots brogue came out was when he was angry.
And the only one who managed to get him angry was his nephew—Ulrik.
“I heard,” Taraeth said.
He raised a hand to quiet Mikkel as the Irish folk song continued to play. Didn’t Mikkel know not to interrupt such wondrous music?
When the last strings of the song played, Taraeth then turned to his guest. Mikkel sat upon the black velvet half-moon-shaped sofa with one arm draped along the back. He wore a custom-made navy suit with a cream dress shirt beneath and a navy and gold tie. Mikkel’s black hair was neither long nor short, but somewhere in between.
Though he wasn’t as beautiful as a Fae, Taraeth recognized the appeal Mikkel had on the fairer sex with his height, gold eyes, and his fortune.
That wasn’t enough for Mikkel though. He’d had a taste—albeit a brief one—of being a Dragon King. Now, he coveted the highest position within those ranks—King of Kings.
Mikkel had gone to great lengths over many centuries to put himself where he was now. Though Taraeth would never admit it aloud, Mikkel had managed to do quite a lot to the Kings.