Dark Heat: The Dark Kings Stories by Donna Grant Read Free Book Online Page B

changed.
    He was ferocious in his attack, even with four men assaulting him. He didn’t back down. He took all four of them on with purpose and intent clear in his eyes.
    Hal had no idea how long they battled. Somehow the newcomer’s jacket was ripped off, the jeans he wore shredded and barely hanging on to his waist.
    A few times Hal was thrown off the new King, and each time he was surprised. Not once did the man ever stop or back down.
    It wasn’t until Rhys took one of his arms, and Guy the other, that Banan and Hal were able to pin the newcomer to the ground. And still he fought them.
    “Easy, friend,” Hal said evenly.
    The new King turned his angry gaze to him. “Get. Off. Me.”
    “You’re no’ used to being beaten,” Guy said, a trace of awe in his voice.
    Banan was the first to release the man, and Hal quickly followed. As one, Guy and Rhys let him up.
    The King instantly sat up and lunged for his sword. He wrapped his hand around the pommel and backed up until he hit a wall. His eyes moved to each one of them, waiting to see who would attack next.
    “Rhys wanted to look at your sword to see if it could tell us something of who you were,” Guy said.
    “Or what dragons you command,” Hal added.
    The man glanced at his weapon. Indecision warred across his face before he lowered the sword and moved out of his battle stance. “Each of you have swords?”
    Banan chuckled as his lips tilted in a smile. “Oh, aye. We doona carry them as we used to. No’ in this time.”
    “What year is it?”
    Hal wasn’t at all sure if the stranger was from the present or the past. He was leaning toward the past, which was why he wanted to tread carefully. It was bad enough the new King had no memories—which had never happened before.
    “Look at our clothes,” Hal said, and spread his arms wide. “What style of clothing was the last thing you remember?”
    “Kilts,” the stranger answered automatically.
    “I doona know how far into the future you’ve come, but I believe you are no longer in the same time period as before.”
    “He needs a name,” Guy said. “If he can no’ remember his own, we give him another.”
    The man’s jaw clenched. “I can no’ remember my own, no matter how hard I try.”
    “Maybe there’s a reason for that,” Rhys said softly.
    No one said anything for several seconds as Rhys’s words seemed to resonate with the newcomer.
    “Give me a name,” the man said. “A name worthy of a Dragon King, if that’s what I am.”
    Hal grinned. “Look at your tat. Look at your sword. You’re a King. Whether you want it or no’, you are one of us.”
    “Tristan,” Banan said, his voice echoing around the cavern. “It’s from Celtic mythology. Our newest King is obviously Scottish. Let’s give him a name worthy of his roots.”
    Tristan gave a nod to Banan. “Tristan it is.”
    Hal crossed his arms over his chest and regarded him. “Tristan fits. A good, strong name for a resilient, powerful King.”
    Tristan licked his lips, a frown marring his forehead. “What year is it?”
    “2012,” Hal answered.
    For several moments, no one said anything until Banan stepped forward. “You are no’ just immortal, Tristan, or just a King. As a Dragon King, you’ll rule whatever dragons you were given.”
    “How will I know what dragons those are?”
    “You have to shift,” Rhys said with a wicked grin.
    Hal kept his gaze on Tristan as Rhys removed his clothes and shifted into dragon form. Hal didn’t have to look to know a huge yellow dragon stood behind him.
    Rhys flicked his long, thin tail where it had a bladelike extension on the end, causing the cave to rumble from the impact.
    To give Tristan credit, he didn’t cower, simply stared at Rhys with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
    Hal glanced at Rhys and the series of tendrils that extended from the back of his head. Rhys’s orange dragon eyes, wide and gemlike, watched Tristan. In the next instant, both Banan and Guy