“I’ve paused the
drough
blood inside him,” Con said as he walked to the other side of the bed. “It’s odd that I can no’ heal him completely. We’re hoping you can.”
Phelan raked a hand down his face knowing he would forever see the image of Malcolm’s right arm almost completely torn from his body and his entire front, including his face, so cut up he was unrecognizable.
“It’s been the same for me,” Phelan finally managed to get out. “Wallace has done something to his blood. A serum was created to block whatever Wallace did, but it must no’ be working. I can slow what the
drough
blood does to a Warrior, but I can no’ heal it as I used to.”
Con removed his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves. “Looks like it’s going to take both of us.”
“I’m no’ going to lose him,” Phelan said. “I’ll do whatever it takes, contact whoever it takes.”
Con raised a blond brow. “Meaning you’ll send a message to Rhi?”
“If I have to.” It was Rhi, a Fae, who had first found him. She was elusive and came only when she wanted, but he’d never asked her for a favor. He just hoped that she would understand it was an emergency if he called for her.
Con shrugged. “If I have to have a Fae on Dreagan, she’s the least offensive.”
Phelan let a gold claw elongate from his right hand. He held his arm over Malcolm and used his talon to slice a long cut down the length of his forearm.
His blood gushed out and onto Malcolm’s many wounds. Normally it would take just a drop or two of his blood to begin healing, but with Wallace’s new
drough
blood, things were different.
While Phelan continued to pour his blood into Malcolm, Constantine simply touched Malcolm. That’s all it took for Phelan to experience the unusual dragon magic possessed by all the Kings.
“Why is it no’ working?” Rhys demanded.
Phelan met the dragon’s gaze and heard the unmistakable rattle of death in Malcolm’s chest.
It was another thirty minutes before Phelan let out a slow breath. “He’s improving.”
“No’ by much,” Con said flatly. “Just what did Wallace do to the
drough
blood?”
Phelan cut his arm again and held the wound over Malcolm’s damaged right arm. “He died and came back. I fear he’s indestructible now.”
“That’s shite,” Hal said from the doorway. “Everything can be killed. It’s just finding a way to do it.”
Phelan nodded as he saw one of Malcolm’s smaller cuts begin to slowly knit together. “We’ll kill Wallace. Doona worry about that.”
Rhys walked into the connecting bathroom and grabbed some towels. “Guy will arrive with Evie soon. She can no’ see Malcolm like this.”
“Damn,” Hal said and hurried to help.
Phelan caught Con’s gaze. “What the hell happened?”
“I’m no’ sure I should be telling you.”
“That’s no’ what I asked.” Phelan fisted his hand. He was ready to punch Con, regardless of who he was.
Con removed his hand from Malcolm. “That’s all we can do for him now. He’s healing, but slowly.”
“Constantine.”
Black eyes met Phelan’s, and he saw determination and a shadow of regret. “Malcolm found a Druid but didna want to tell any of you. Her brother was kidnapped, and he helped her try and get him back.”
“It was Wallace who took the Druid’s brother?”
Rhys came to stand beside Con and looked down at Malcolm. “He knew it was. It’s why he called Guy for help. Guy asked me and Hal to tag along in case there was trouble.”
“I see none of you are injured. Did you no’ join in the fight?” Phelan asked. Though he knew the answer. The Kings were good allies, but Con wanted them kept secret and out of any skirmishes.
It was Hal who said, “Rhys was to take Brian and Guy was in charge of Evie once the exchange happened. We vowed to get them and the innocent tourists out no matter what.”
“Malcolm knew it was Wallace from the beginning,” Rhys said as he wiped up more blood. “Then Wallace tricked Evie by not bringing her brother, and all hell broke loose. We did as promised and got everyone out.”
“It was during all of that when the fight between Malcolm and Wallace began.” Hal rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze on the floor.
Rhys moved the wet towel from one hand to another. “Guy got Evie to hide Malcolm and Wallace from view so no one would see anything.”
“As soon as Evie was gone, Rhys and I went to help Malcolm.”
“But it was too late. Wallace disappeared, and I had to dive into the loch for Malcolm,” Rhys finished and cleared his throat.
Phelan pulled the chair from the corner closer to the bed and sank into it. He was taking it all in, more troubled than ever that Malcolm hadn’t called him. More than that was Malcolm pitting himself against Wallace. “Malcolm knew he wouldna survive fighting Wallace alone.”
“He did indeed.”
Phelan turned his head to find Guy standing in the doorway with a petite brunette by his side wearing a shell-shocked expression in her blue eyes.
“Malcolm,” she whispered in a shaky voice and walked to the bed.
Con and Rhys immediately got out of the way to give her room. Her hand shook as she reached out to smooth a lock of Malcolm’s blond hair from his forehead.
Phelan then understood why Malcolm had kept the Druid secret as he felt her curious magic that had an unmistakable feel of
drough
mixed in.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
Evie couldn’t look away from the blood that coated Malcolm. Some of it darkened as it dried on his flesh, but more of it was bright red as his wounds continued to bleed.
“Why isn’t he healed?” she asked the room at large. “He’s immortal.”
“Normally he would be all but healed by now,” replied the man who watched her with blue-gray eyes as he sat next to the bed opposite her.
Guy came to stand beside her. “Wallace wanted him to suffer.”
Evie blinked and turned her head to Guy. “Jason used
drough
blood, didn’t he?”
Guy looked away, but it was the man in the chair who answered, “Aye.”
“Are you Malcolm’s friend?” she asked.
“I am. The name is Phelan.”
She fisted her hand before she touched Malcolm’s arm. The need to feel him was strong, but she feared hurting him. “Thank you, everyone, for helping him. I didn’t know … he didn’t tell me that he…”
Evie couldn’t finish the sentence. Now she understood Malcolm’s urgency when they’d made love the last time. He’d been saying good-bye with his body and touch rather than words.
Her gaze went to his scarred shoulder that was torn to bits. She gagged and covered her mouth with her hand. “What kind of monster is Wallace to do this?”
“The worst kind,” Rhys said from behind her.
Malcolm’s handsome face was destroyed, his chest shredded with so many cuts she couldn’t begin to count them. “Will he recover?” She lifted her gaze to look at the five men around her. “He has to be all right.”
“He’s mending,” said the tall, golden-haired man with the black eyes. “It’s slow, but he’s fighting the effects of the
drough
blood, with our help and a serum he took before. He should pull through. I’m Constantine, by the way. Welcome to Dreagan. Guy, Rhys, and Hal will see to anything you need while you’re with us.”
Her mobile chimed then with a message. She pulled it out of her purse and read the message. Her stomach dropped to her feet when she saw it was from the kidnapper—or Jason Wallace as she now knew.
“Evie?” Guy asked, concern lacing his voice.
She handed him her mobile and reached for the headboard to keep herself upright. “It’s Jason. He’s offered me Brian’s return if I go to him now.”
Phelan stood and grabbed her mobile from Guy before she finished talking. After reading the message, he handed the phone to Hal. “We wait for Malcolm to wake before any decisions are made.”
Evie bristled at his tone. It was obvious he blamed her for what happened by the anger in his voice. She lifted her chin, but didn’t bother to argue.
The only person she would talk to about this was Malcolm. Or maybe Guy, but certainly not Phelan. It was her brother’s life on the line.
“I never wanted Malcolm to get hurt,” she told Phelan.
Phelan cut his gaze to her. “Then you should’ve never involved him. He’s a good man. Of course he was going to help you. You knew he would.”
Had she? Evie looked back down at Malcolm. Had she brought him to the brink of death?
“Sit,” Guy urged while putting pressure on her shoulders.
Evie sank into the chair and put her hand on Malcolm’s thigh, one of the only spots not covered in blood.
* * *
Phelan reluctantly followed Con and the others into the hall. He watched Evie closely as she sat beside Malcolm.
“You doona trust her,” Constantine stated.
Phelan shrugged and found Guy staring at him. “Nay, I doona. She’s
drough
.”
“Wallace didna give her a choice,” Guy said. “She did it knowing she would lose her soul, but to save innocents and her brother.”
Rhys crossed his arms over his chest. “Malcolm told us all about it. Malcolm tried to stop her, but didna get there in time. Evie has a spell Wallace wants, and she was trying to keep it from him and get her brother back.”
“He didna call me because she turned
drough
.” Phelan sighed loudly. “I’d been through all of that with Aisley. He should’ve contacted me.”
Hal raised a black brow. “Did you let the others know about Aisley? Nay. You kept her existence a secret until you had no choice. Malcolm was making the same decision.”
“I was protecting Aisley,” Phelan ground out in a low voice.
Guy’s forehead furrowed. “And what do you think Malcolm was doing with Evie?”
Phelan didn’t want to hear this. It would be easier to hate Evie and place the blame squarely on her shoulders. But the Kings were right. Malcolm had been protecting her, which meant he cared. How deeply, was the question.
“Point taken,” Phelan grumbled.
Guy leaned a shoulder against the door frame. “Malcolm asked that we protect Evie in his absence.”
Phelan wanted to argue the point. It was the Warriors, after all, who gave sanctuary to all Druids. Malcolm had sought aid elsewhere, and as much as it irked Phelan, he would go with Malcolm’s wishes. “I think we should call Fallon and have him bring more of it for Malcolm.”
Banan walked up then and glanced at Con. “I agree. Fallon was looking for Malcolm.”
The tension between Con and Banan was evident. But that was Dragon King business and didn’t involve Phelan. Though he was immensely curious, which meant there was no way he was keeping his mouth shut.
“So Fallon called looking for Malcolm?” Phelan asked.
Con slowly pulled his gaze away from Banan. “Before Rhys arrived with Malcolm, aye.”
“You’ve dealt with
drough
blood inside you,” Rhys said as if to change the subject. “Can you no’ figure out what it is Wallace has done to change it?”
Phelan looked into the room and saw Evie use her finger to measure the length of a cut on Malcolm’s arm. Her concern was evident, as was her caring. Maybe he’d been too hard on her.
Then again, she was
drough
. By choice.
Phelan cleared his throat as he looked at the Kings. He lowered his voice and said, “I sensed death when trying to heal Malcolm. It’s nagged me ever since. Death has a certain feel to it. It’s no’ something I’d mistake, no’ after all the battles I’ve been in.”
“Wallace did die,” Banan pointed out.
Phelan wanted to punch something. “Fuck. How did we all miss it? How did we all overlook something so obvious?”
“Because it was too obvious,” Hal said with a twist of his lips.
Guy shook his head. “With Wallace having come back from the dead, he brought Death back with him. It’s inside him, so it would be in his blood.”
“And now inside Malcolm,” Phelan said, hatred for Wallace rising to new heights.
“There is one who could help,” Hal said into the silence.
Con’s gaze whipped to him, fury coming off him in waves. “Doona even dare bring it up. Ulrik’s power is gone. Now leave it, Hal.”
Phelan watched Con stalk away. Ulrik’s name again? It wasn’t the first time Phelan had heard his name, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
By the way the four remaining Kings exchanged looks, Ulrik was a cause of discontent through the ranks of the dragons.
“It was worth a try,” Guy said and clapped Hal on the shoulder.
Banan jerked his chin to Phelan. “I think it’s time you called Fallon.”
But Phelan wasn’t so sure. “Why didna Con tell him where Malcolm was? I gather Con knew Guy and the others had gone to help.”
“Aye,” Banan said tightly. “Con didna give me a reason for lying to Fallon. He just said to leave it.”
Rhys raked a hand through his hair. “Con doesna do anything without a purpose. If he didna tell Fallon, there was a good cause for it.”
“I doona know Con as you all, but I was thinking the same thing. He’s helped us before. Why would he stop now?” Phelan asked, more to himself than the others.
But it was Hal who asked, “What are you thinking?”
Phelan met his gaze and sighed. “I’m thinking I wait to contact Fallon.”
“And if Charon does it?”
“He willna,” Phelan said. “No’ yet anyway.”
Guy pushed away from the wall. “You said Charon was given a serum. Why did he need it?”
“When he took a blade meant for Arran, my blood couldna heal him immediately either. He was left with the feel of that blade in him for weeks after. Larena suffered even more. No Druid magic could stop her death, though I do think they brought her back somehow.”
Banan frowned, his head cocked to the side. “Brought her back? Are you telling me she died?”
Phelan nodded. “She returned different. Larena struggled to remain in control of her goddess. She wanted to let it all go and give in. Had Fallon no’ been there, I believe she would’ve.”
All five of them turned their heads to look at Malcolm’s still form. Phelan knew how close to that edge Malcolm already walked. What would happen if he woke just as Larena did?