Dillon shrugged.
“The vampires have their spies,” Barbara said, looking back. “As do we. What is the nature of that note?”
“Do you also have to be weirdly stilted in your communication to be an elite?” Macy asked her. “Because I’m sensing a pattern.”
Barbara showed no signs of having heard.
Devon passed the note forward. “Hang on to that. She’ll want it.” He hesitated before pressing his hand to her forehead. Still hot. “Did she believe it?”
“She was blindsided,” Dillon said. “It threw her for a loop. But yeah, I think she must believe it.”
Barbara studied the note before passing it forward to Cole. “It’s a trick of some kind,” she said authoritatively. “He might know where her mother is, but there is more to it. He hopes to gain something from it.”
“Yes. We’re not dense. We know that.” Dillon shot her a flat look. “Charity must know it too. The problem is, she’s still big-time screwed up about her mother leaving. She won’t be rational.”
“It could be his way of getting Charity back out of the Flush,” Devon said, staring out the window. “It’s a good lure.”
Everyone in the van nodded. There was no arguing with that.
Cole’s phone chimed. “Emery has been contacted. He hadn’t entered the Realm yet, thankfully. He’s heading in now. Roger says to hang tight while he scouts the portal. There’s been a lot of activity in the Realm. Elves are patrolling in record numbers.”
Devon gritted his teeth. “She doesn’t have a lot of time.”
“You’ll need to think on what is more important,” Barbara said, her eyes softening to something almost human, “her life, or her freedom. The elves would be able to help her.”
Words that had been plaguing Devon for months forced themselves into the forefront of his mind.
The time will come when you need to make a choice. A choice that concerns the rest of your life, and more importantly, her life. To save Charity’s life—to give her a life—you must take the hard road, sacrifice your heart, and let her go.
Pain knifed through Devon’s middle. Karen was an incredible Seer who was almost never wrong.
“The longest she’s been out is three and a half hours.” Devon sucked in a deep breath. “We’ll give her that long. If she doesn’t wake up…” He swallowed down the words, unable to get them out, and looked down at Charity’s beautiful, cherubic face. The alpha in him flared and his arms tightened around her possessively. Protectively. He couldn’t imagine leaving her for any reason. He couldn’t imagine handing her over to anyone.
But he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t and she died because of it.
Chapter Six
Devon stood just outside the open door of the van, staring through the trees at the collection of disgusting creatures in the distance. Like the demon Charity had decimated earlier, these creatures had charred limbs ending in thick claws, glowing eyes, and misshapen heads.
And they were gathered in front of the nearest portal into the Realm.
Devon’s pack was a hundred miles from Charity’s house on the outskirts of a small town, the entrance point Emery had chosen for their journey. The mage was supposed to be waiting for them on the other side of that portal, which they could only reach through a wall of demons.
Vlad had worked with demons in their last run-in with him. Devon didn’t like the implications.
“You’re sure this Emery character is on the right side of things?” asked Dale, who had, regrettably, decided to continue on with the journey. Devon suspected his persistence had more to do with not disappointing Roger than any dedication to the cause.
“No, but Roger arranged him as our guide,” Devon said, counting thirteen demons in all. That number was probably significant to this situation, but he had no idea how. He wasn’t chummy with any witches or mages.
“How would these demons know to show up at the exact portal we’d planned to use, at the exact time we’d planned to use it?” Cole asked, and everyone repeatedly flinched as though his words were machine gun fire.
Devon held up his hand. “Cole, if you can’t figure out how to whisper, don’t speak at all.”
“I am—”
“No.” Devon shot Cole a warning glare. “You’re not.”
Cole frowned, but he shut his trap.
Steve emerged in human form from a bush behind him, his chest heaving from his two quick changes and his body glistening with sweat. Given that were-lions were known for their stealth, and Steve seemed to be on Team Devon for the moment, Devon had sent him to scout out the area.
“Besides, this isn’t the exact time we’d planned to use it,” Devon said, looking out over the field. The dying sun glinted off the windows of a housing development that overlooked the area. Their adversary was bold—the portal wasn’t far enough from civilization that a bunch of inhuman weirdos would escape notice for long. Eventually someone would get curious or suspicious, and walk or drive out to see what had gathered the small crowd. Since there weren’t any humans gawking at the monsters, let alone any authorities, these demons couldn’t have been here for long. He said as much.
“Good observation,” Barbara said, as though she hadn’t made that connection. His original pack murmured their assent.
“They also look about the same as the demon in the street near Charity’s house,” he continued, grabbing his phone. “It wouldn’t be a stretch to suspect the same person called them.”
“These demons are more advanced,” Barbara said. “Lower level three, mostly. A couple of high twos and, if I’m not mistaken, one lower level four. That one might give us some trouble.”
“What’s the demon scale, again?” Andy asked.
Yasmine shifted her stance next to him, clearly wondering the same thing but not wanting to appear uninformed enough to ask. When she’d first joined them, Yasmine had expressed interest in him—only he’d already started to fall for Charity. Now that he and Charity were openly together, Yasmine seemed to have withdrawn from the pack somewhat, but Devon was confident she’d find her new normal in time. Now was clearly not that time.
“There are levels within the levels, but the overall power scale goes to six,” Barbara replied. “Six being Lucifer himself, the most powerful demon in the worlds. He stands alone on his pedestal. So you can see that even a lower level four is reason to bring extra underwear.”
Yasmine crinkled her nose.
“And…how do you know this?” Macy asked, not doing a great job of hiding her suspicion.
If Barbara noticed, she made no sign. “I have regularly lent aid to packs combating demons. An experienced pack of our size would be facing a tough fight. Healing time would be plentiful. This pack, however, protecting someone unconscious…” She met Devon’s eyes. “We’d take losses. Healing time would be extensive.”
“Healing time we don’t have.” Frustration burned through Devon, and he couldn’t help flicking his eyes to the van, where Charity lay sprawled out on the seat, her breathing shallow and forehead probably still burning up. “Fine. Dillon, call around and get us rooms. We need to get in contact with Roger and figure out what happens next. We’ll probably need to move portals, and to do that, someone needs to alert Emery.”
“Shouldn’t we—”
Devon took three fast steps and grabbed Dale by the throat. He no longer worried that he didn’t have what it took to take the new pack member down. He didn’t worry about taking damage, either. For Charity’s sake, he needed this troublemaker subdued, and he wouldn’t back down until that happened.
Dale’s eyes widened as his back hit the van. Devon’s power pumped out around them as he leaned into Dale hard, staring into the other shifter’s muddy-brown eyes with an intent born of power and authority. An intent demanding submission.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t explain his position. He didn’t need to.
The silence stretched. A tense moment ticked by. Devon’s powe
r beat onto Dale, daring him to turn. Promising him he’d pay if he continued to challenge Devon’s authority.
Finally, with a release of breath, Dale dropped his gaze. He bowed submissively.
Devon didn’t dwell on it. He didn’t have time.
Macy and Rod were already bent over their phones, looking up hotels online.
“Load up,” Devon barked, not worried about volume. They’d be gone before the demons ran over to scout them out. “I’ll contact Roger on the way downtown. Let’s try to get rooms in a populated area. There’s less chance of this host, or another, combating us there. I realize the demon earlier walked down the middle of the street, but it was a very bad part of town where I doubt people rushed to call the police. A smaller town in a nice area is a different ballgame.”
“We hope,” Andy said, now on his phone too.
“We hope,” Devon agreed, swinging into the back seat before greatly slowing down, not wanting to disturb Charity’s slumber. Hopefully, she was just healing, like shifters did. Hopefully, her body was using this downtime to rejuvenate. Because at this rate, he wouldn’t even be able to turn her over to the elves to save her life.
* * *
Emery crouched within the magical flowers, looking down the cobblestone lane at the Realm side of the portal he’d chosen. More flowers bloomed along the way, a spray of cheerful colors and complementary fragrances. Gold filaments softly tumbled through the air, the perfect temperature for his light green jacket and matching pants. Then again, magic ensured the Realm was the perfect temperature for any attire. Lollipop trees, like a kid might draw in a picture, stood behind three benches off to the side of the portal, along with a magically tended hedge.
It was a lovely, picturesque scene that did not belong in this area of the wilds, with its naturally scraggly bushes, trees with gnarled and reaching branches, and plentiful gray rocks. Not even his dual-mage partner, Penny, could find merit in such stones.
Two months ago, when Emery had scouted this location as a possible entrance point for Charity, before Roger had even approached him to serve as her guide, the portal entrance had been as run-down and decrepit as the rest of the surrounding area. Thieves used this portal. Traffickers selling magic into the Brink. Goblins and other unsavory characters rolled through here, knowing this area, and many like it, were blind spots within the Realm. Places elves couldn’t be bothered to have their people patrol.
Emery chewed his lip, his gaze lingering on the tall, thin creature perched on one of the benches. A yellow halo surrounded him.
An actual elf.
Here, in no man’s land.
And not just hanging out here, either. This elf had cared enough to fix the place up. That bespoke someone with power. With clout and the exacting eye that went with it.
Why the hell was a powerful elf stationed at this portal?
Emery shook his head and rolled through his options. No way could he attack an elf. They were intelligent and tenacious, and they looked after their own. If he took this sentry down, the elves’ retaliation would be swift and brutal. Given their money and influence, nothing was out of the scope of possibility. That would put everyone in danger, including Penny and their crazy friend Reagan, who would stupidly march in here and seek vengeance of their own.
No, he had to get to the Brink so he could use his phone. He had to put Devon and his crew on alert and hold off their crossing until he picked out a new spot. An empty one. He might have to get creative, because one thing was infinitely clear—someone had tipped off the elves.
Emery’s questions were: who and what specifically were the elves looking for? Was it Charity, or had poor timing thrown them into the middle of something larger?
Chapter Seven
Charity came to consciousness slowly and through a fog of pain. Her temples pounded in time to her heart and her whole body ached. She felt like a wet rag—one that had been trampled on, thrown in the garbage, then buried in a pile of refuse. She’d never had a magical hangover this severe.
Then again, she’d never been flooded with that much power.
Her stomach turned with guilt at the memory of Devon fighting against the gale to get to her. To protect her from herself.
That shouldn’t be his job. His job as alpha was to protect his pack against outside forces, not against her magic. She was a dangerous distraction.
A voice rose out of her fog of pain. “When you find your true home, you will know it. And with that home you must stay so that others of your kind will stay with you. The future of all the worlds depends on it.”
Karen the Seer had said that. She’d alluded to Charity being royalty among the warrior fae, and Devon being destined for greatness in the shifter world. Given that warrior fae lived in the Flush, a place supposedly ass-deep in the Realm, and shifters worked in the Brink, well…it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. The Seer had been not-so-gently reminding her that while she belonged in the Flush, Devon did not. End of story.
Not for Charity. She’d gotten up and walked away. The worlds could suck it. She’d stay with Devon.
Except now…it was painfully clear that Devon would be better off if he weren’t strapped down by a wobbly magical nutcase toting a whole lot of baggage. She hated to think that Karen was onto something, but…
Charity sighed. Now wasn’t the time to figure it out. The first step was figuring out where she was.
She pushed up to sitting against the ache in her joints and the throbbing of her head. A dingy sort of room crowded in around her. She lay on a bed with a mustard-yellow bedspread and sharp corners that advertised, correctly, how old and hard the mattress was. A dingy white sliding door had been shoved to one side of the empty closet, revealing an open safe at the bottom corner. The inlet to the bathroom ended in a slightly ajar door she couldn’t see past, and there were two sets of drapes for the small window on the other side—a heavy gray one to keep out the sun, and a faded and ripped yellow one to cheer up the room. Only one was working. The glowing red numbers on the nightstand clock read 8:43.
It was clearly a hotel room, and judging by the murmuring behind the slightly cracked open door in front of her, it was a suite.
She hastened off the bed despite her protesting body. A room this small in a suite this dingy was very cheap and probably filthy. She wondered if someone had checked for bedbugs.
Devon looked up as she opened the suite door, and a look of such supreme relief crossed his face that she felt guilty all over again. Insecurity and guilt, two pastimes she wished she could quit. While Devon stood at the door leading to the hotel hallway, the rest of the pack, old and new, sat or stood around the equally cramped space, their expressions leaving little doubt that something had gone badly wrong. Well, something else.
Her magic felt like a leaf on the forest floor, stirred by the breeze. Even now, it was ready to go again. There had to be something she could do differently to make these surges feel normal. Or at least less painful.
“What happened?” she asked.
For a wonder, Dale glanced at Devon before lowering his gaze to the floor. The dynamic between them had shifted.
“We have a small arsenal of demons blocking the portal,” Devon said. “Roger has someone to help us break through them, but there’s an elf on the other side. Even if we got through, we’d be nabbed almost immediately.”
Charity smoothed the hair away from her aching skull and leaned against the doorframe. Rod jumped up out of his seat.
“Here, Charity, sit,” Rod said, ushering her over to his spot on the dingy love seat against flowery wallpaper.
“No, it’s fine—”
“Emery has checked out the backup location,” Devon said over her protests. She relented with an eye roll. “That one is guarded, as well. But he’s lined up three other options for us.”
“Who did he tell about the portals?” Charity asked, the note from Vlad suddenly surfacing in her mind.
In a sudden panic, she patted her chest and th
en dug her hands into her jeans pockets.
“Wait… Where’s…” She stiffly stood and checked her back pockets.
Devon slipped his hand into his sweats pocket and pulled out the gold-rimmed note. “Dillon noticed you’d dropped this and grabbed it off the street.”
Heart pounding, Charity clutched it close to her chest before sitting down.
“That’s what we’ve been asking ourselves. Who else could’ve known about the portals?” Devon said, his eyes on the note. “I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned your nickname for Vlad around a vampire. Yet he knows it. But I’m sure he’s got spies, and you’ve said that nickname often enough among mixed company, so fine. And logic would’ve told him that you’d eventually check in with your dad. If he kept someone close by, and that person could hastily summon a lackluster demon, then I could see all that making sense. But the portals? He must have heard about our plan from someone on the inside.”
“I mean…if I had to guess…” Charity pointed at Dale.
He glowered, and Andy and Rod both smirked.
“I still don’t understand why Vlad would try to keep Charity out of the Realm,” Cole said, and Charity palmed her pounding head. She wished he came with volume control.
“I agree,” Macy said, sitting in a wooden chair in front of a desk with a very suspicious hack mark on the side, like someone had lost control of their axe. “Vlad’s note said she should check in after her training. Whether he actually knows Charity’s mother’s location or not, it is a strong lure to bring her back out of the Flush. It’s intended to be a strong lure. When she returns, she’ll be an even more enticing target, and his game of cat and mouse can recommence. But none of that is possible if she dies before she gets her magic sorted out.”
Charity’s hand shook around the note, the ache of hope burning in her chest. “Vlad has a lot of resources at his disposal, right? And it isn’t like my mom disappeared into thin air. He could know.”
Warrior Fae Princess Page 5
