Undeniable (The Druids Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

me?”
    “I’ve marked you as mine. You will be my agent in the human realm and deal with the matters that a fey could not. Deacon will aid you and be your liaison.” With the upturning of his palm, the Glamoured illusion of a bowl appeared in his hand. Fine gold filigree wove in Celtic knotwork to create the designs that reflected the images of the four seasons as the bowl slowly rotated before him. “This is the first of the Treasures of the Tuatha de Dannan. It is Cerridwen’s cauldron. Lost to the Sidhe it has been since ages past, when the Great Veil was woven and the wizards driven out of Ireland. We know it still exists, but it eludes discovery. I believe the wizards made off with it during that dark time.” The illusion faded from the Sidhe’s hand, and, empty once more, it closed. “Now, you will discover its location and return it unto me.”
    “That shouldn’t be an impossible task,” Peyton said, more to himself than anyone around him. The pain in the markings faded back into just the insult of it. “But more than a little tricky and hell of a lot of dangerous.”
    “Then you, my very capable agent, are the right man for the job.” Credne dismissed him, with the turning of his back, one hand sweeping the cloak aside as he spun and walked away without looking back.
    It was a job he’d do, for now, but this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Credne wouldn’t own him. No one would.
    There had to be a way out of this.
    And he would find it.
    The game wasn’t over.

Chapter Seven

    After the incident at the wizards’ headquarters, which the BBC would no doubt talk about for months to come, Peyton dumped his old phone. The SD card, however, he’d kept. He rummaged for it now, from the bottom of the cup that usually just held a bunch of mostly dead ink pens that he meant to throw away, but instead always tossed back into the collection. A thousand pens, not a single drop of ink. Blowing the debris off the card, he inserted it into his new phone. The numbers and a few other files transferred quickly, and then he tossed the SD card back into the cup until the next time he needed to replace a phone. It happened far more often than one would have imagined.
    Running his fingers through his still wet hair, and walking across his flat in nothing but the bath towel, Peyton thumbed through the contacts list until he found ‘Tower’, his personal codename for London. Given how she seemed to haunt him and spell trouble at every turn, he thought the ‘Tower of London’ was a good association for the druidess.
    With the phone pressed to his head, he willed her to answer. Moving aside the curtains just a finger’s width, he glanced down from the second story flat over the pub to the pizzeria across the street. Deacon was just walking out with the takeout he’d gone for when discovering that Peyton’s fridge hadn’t been freshly stocked in months. Besides from an empty carton of OJ, some now fossilized take-out, and some packets of ketchup of dubious age, he’d not bothered to stick around the flat long enough to go shopping, much less cooking.
    “Who is this?” London’s voice edged with exasperation and suspicion.
    “Who were you expecting?” He almost smiled at the taunt. Almost.
    There was a pause, before she answered, “Not you, anyway.”
    She recognized his voice, Peyton could tell, but that wasn’t quite the attitude he was anticipating. Initial instinct suspected that she wasn’t free to talk. And he didn’t have time to mince words. “Just touching base,” his own reluctance telegraphing the need to talk with her soon.
    “Right.” London’s response held the right nuance. Message received.
    Which was good, since the sound of Deacon’s boots on the exterior wooden staircase drew closer. “Catch up with you later, then.” He hung up and tossed the phone through his open bedroom door into the pile of blankets, and walked back into the bathroom, where the shower water was still running,