He blinked, staring at solid gray metal walls with thick iron rods embedded.
An overhead light struggled to illuminate the area.
He drew in a slow inhale filled with the dank smell around him as if this place remained untouched by fresh air. But mixed in with that had been the hint of anise or licorice again.
Who was the supernatural being acting as a human guard?
The metal cuffs unlatched from Daegan’s wrists, jangled, then were silent when they hit the hard floor.
He tried to pull his arms forward to rub them. One moved until even with the side of his body. The other arm remained behind him, frozen in place. The satyr coating kept hampering his movements.
Metal on metal squealed. That would be the door to this cage.
Every breath strained him. He moved his feet in inches until he had turned all the way around to face vertical bars. Iron bars? Each thick rod had been placed six inches apart. Horizontal crossbars ran every two feet from ceiling to cement ground. An eight-foot-wide by twelve-foot-tall section had been created as a door.
He stood in a twenty-foot-square box with a thirty-foot ceiling. Nothing appeared to be new or constructed for a human.
Had this been planned long ago for a dragon or some other supernatural creature?
Beyond the bars stretched a long hallway to what appeared to be the elevator used to bring him down here. Three more cage doors were spaced along each side of the hall. No sound came from those.
No one stood in the hallway.
Where had that nonhuman gone?
Daegan opened his senses. No energy trail. Cloaking?
He forced his fingers on one hand to close. His hands were stiff and the knuckles made bone-cracking sounds. Pain lashed his fingers. Blood dripped from where his skin ripped open.
Ruadh growled steadily, his anger vibrating.
Daegan spoke telepathically with his dragon. Do ya think we can shift and break this coating loose?
Ruadh did not answer right away. Coating dried on skin like tortoise shell. Must be cleaned off. To shift is to kill you.
Daegan couldn’t sit or lie down even if this metal room had a chair or bed. No water as well.
Energy spun in the hallway on the opposite side of the bars.
Not a hard flush of power. More subtle and sly.
Would he finally meet the nonhuman who had used majik to take Daegan from his human captors down here? Did the humans even know Daegan still existed?
The same average-looking man appeared in the hallway. Not quite six feet tall with a soft middle and ruddy skin, he wore a black uniform matching those who had captured Daegan.
Saying those humans had captured him stretched the definition. He’d stood on the cliff waiting on these men to finish dropping on ropes from the helicopter.
Shoving the black-rimmed glasses up on his nose, the guy pretending to be human said, “I am here to talk to you alone.”
Itchy and stinging coating crept around Daegan’s neck from the back. How long would he be able to breathe once it completely enclosed his neck? He opened his senses, but could pick up nothing to identify the being speaking to him while hiding his identity with a glamour.
His visitor said, “No one can hear us. I must protect myself as well.”
Daegan had yet to gain an answer to the only question that mattered. “Who are ya?”
Sighing softly, the stranger said, “I could be an ally.”
Had Ruadh been right about calling this being an enemy? “I will not talk to an imposter who uses a glamour.”
“You have few choices,” the man pointed out in a smooth voice, one more cultured than that of the image he portrayed.
“Still, those choices are mine to make,” Daegan debated, gritting his teeth as muscles tightened. “If ya are unwillin’ to show your real face, I am unwillin’ to say more.”
“Do you not wish to escape?”
What a stupid question. Daegan still had a voice to unleash his anger. “Ya waste my time with foolish questions! Ya must want somethin’ or ya would not have brought me down here alive. Of course, I wish to escape. That does not mean I shall blindly step into a worse situation.” Though he could not imagine one at the moment.
His visitor glanced away as he mulled that over. The dull-brown eyes sharpened when they returned to Daegan. “I had intended to expose my identity, but I wished to be sure of one thing first. You are Daegan of Treoir, the red dragon shifter, correct?”
Should Daegan answer that or not?
He considered the possible negatives of admitting such, but had a feeling someone in those jets and helicopters filmed his dragon.
Still, he had to take care. “What makes ya think I am such a bein’?”
The man pulled off his glasses and smiled. “I am the only one on the team sent to bring you in who does not think your dragon is in the ocean. I was not alive to see your red dragon fly free prior to Queen Maeve capturing you, but my ancestors made drawings of your beast. They told me how she imprisoned you in the shape of a dragon throne in TÅμr Medb. I believe I witnessed the one-and-only red dragon flying tonight.”
So this nonhuman had been there the whole time? Maybe on the cliff, but Daegan did not believe this one had traveled in the helicopter with him.
Should Daegan confirm his identity to this unknown being?
Ruadh’s voice whispered in Daegan’s head. To admit truth is no great risk.
Daegan sent a quiet thank-you to Ruadh. He told his visitor, “I am Daegan of Treoir, the red dragon shifter.”
The pudgy guy let out a long breath and nodded slowly to himself.
In the next moment, energy spun smoothly again. When the humming and blurring finished, a six-and-a-half-foot striking male with golden hair and too-perfect skin to be human stood before him. Soft light emitted from his body, creating a pale-blue glow around him, the kind driven by hidden power. His smooth black suit and sand-colored pullover reminded Daegan of wealthy men Tristan had explained were human power brokers in Atlanta. Boots with small heels added nothing to one of such height.
Daegan had guessed what being he spoke to by now.
The Fae’s ears were not pointy, but the tops turned down in small wing-like shapes. A thin scar ran along his chin, flawing an otherwise perfect creation.
Daegan would take the scar over all that prettiness.
Ruadh growled. Fae is not ally.
Daegan replied silently, I agree. As I have no option but to stand here, I shall hear his words. Speaking out loud, Daegan asked, “Why is a Fae workin’ with humans?”
“Do not call me Fae.” The being all but spit after that snarl. “I am Faetheen from Talamh Dearmadta.”
Daegan translated. “Land of Forgotten.”
“Precisely. Many of our people were once with the Seelie Fae until ... we separated. Now we live in a world alongside the human world. Specific members of our world can pass between both places. I am called Joavan. I have taken a great risk to show you my true identity.”
Daegan’s facial muscles tightened, but he discovered he could still arch his eyebrow. “’Tis not much of a risk I can see when I am the one imprisoned.”
His father once told Daegan to never believe a Fae who spoke while hiding his or her true image. Once they revealed their true identity, their words would be accurate, but not necessarily trustworthy.
Did that hold true for a Faetheen?
Joavan said, “I insured you would arrive here safely.”