Dyre: A Knight of Spirit and Shadows by Rachel E. Bailey

Author:Rachel E. Bailey [Bailey, Rachel E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626396937
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2016-08-16T06:00:00+00:00

*

“How’s it coming?”

Des looked up from the screen and took the last sip of her milkshake. Thierry stood framed in the doorway, clearly reluctant to disturb her. But Des waved him in, moving the remains of lunch to her other side so he could sit.

“It’s going. Badly. I’ve gone through this thing twice. No dice.”

Thierry sighed. “Well, the only thing for it is to widen the search parameters. Our Alpha is not European. Perhaps the United Kingdom?” He looked at Des questioningly, and she nodded.

“I mean, he looked European. Very Old World. But I guess searching the U.K. couldn’t hurt. I mean, the guy damn sure wasn’t from Africa or Asia.”

Thierry turned the computer to himself and typed something that made the laptop beep. Then he turned it back to Des with a new face on the screen.

“You’ll be pleased to know the U.K. only has forty-seven Alphas,” he said. Des snorted.

“I’ll be pleased if one of them turns out to be the asshole we’re looking for, anyway,” she corrected him. “Moon Herself, help us if he’s not an Alpha. But I don’t see how he could’ve beaten me so easily, otherwise. And even an Alpha shouldn’t have been able to take me down so easy—” Des’s eyes widened, and she sat up.

“What is it? Have you thought of something?” Thierry asked, bringing that singular focus to bear on Des.

“Maybe. I mean, he might have beaten me so easy because he was old and had years of fighting and power behind him, yadda-yadda, yeah, totally possible, super-likely. Or maybe he beat me so easy because he’s more than an Alpha. Maybe he’s an Alpha of Alphas.”

Thierry paled. “Maybe he’s…” He hesitated, as if afraid to say out loud what they were both thinking. Maybe their kidnapping problem was bigger than advertised.

“Let me pull up the dossiers on the Dyres,” he said, taking the laptop from Des, who crossed her legs in zazen and sat forward, wide-awake and with a strong feeling that they were, finally, on the right track.

A few seconds of clicking and typing, and Thierry turned the laptop back to her. The first Dyre was clearly not the one she was looking for, being the Dyre of West Africa and about twenty shades too dark.

The next face to pop up was Ruby’s. The photo was candid, but obviously taken while she was unaware. But she looked so unbearably fragile and lovely.

Des quickly clicked to the next one. South American Dyre. And while Esteban Santiago had the right complexion, the friendly, round features and black hair knocked him out of the running for the asshole who had Ruby.

Next.

Des’s mouth dropped open because she hadn’t quite believed that a Dyre, of all people, would attempt to harm another Dyre, no matter how opposed to that Dyre’s reign they were. The Right of Challenge and Contest that followed it was one thing, but kidnapping and attempted rape?

“That’s him.” Des turned the laptop to Thierry. “That’s the Hugh Hefner-looking motherfucker.”

Frowning, Thierry sighed. “That’s the European Dyre, Lazslo Kiraly.

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