Macy’s eyes softened. Andy, sitting next to Charity, patted her knee.
“It’s likely he does know,” Macy said. “Vlad is a collector of information. All elder vampires are. He would want to trace your ancestry to figure this whole thing out. Why else would he visit your dad and charm information out of him? He must know by now.”
“Charm? More like use his vampire compulsion to wrestle the information out,” Rod said.
“He said his people were watching her,” Yasmine added from her position in the corner. “He isn’t taking an active role. That doesn’t seem like him. Before the battle at the alpha’s house, he was very hands-on.”
“Understatement,” Andy murmured. Rod nodded.
Silence fell around the room, interrupted by Charity’s hand spasming and accidentally crinkling the note.
“Why couldn’t Vlad use his people to escort her to the Realm?” Dillon asked. “He’s good at tiptoeing around the elves, he’s got a ton of people on his payroll, he clearly has spies in our organization. There’s no reason for him to take a back seat and depend on a hope and a prayer to draw her out.”
“Yeah,” Andy said, his brow lowered. “That’s a good point. Given what we know of him, if he thought she had to go to the Flush, he’d want to get the credit for taking her himself, wouldn’t he?”
“Stupid,” Devon said softly, threading around the others to cross the cramped room. “The hotels downtown said they were booked because of a convention, but did any of you see people wandering around with nametags, looking out of place? I sure as hell didn’t. If anyone has the money to buy out all the rooms in a small town like this—in any town—it’s Vlad.”
Dale rose slowly with a scowl. A knowing gleam lit Macy’s and Dillon’s eyes, followed by their brows creasing.
“Vlad might’ve put that note in Charity’s desk as a fail-safe,” Devon said, “but yes, he’s always been hands-on. And he’s always been one step ahead.”
“A couple of hotels on the outskirts of town had vacancies,” Dale argued. “He couldn’t possibly pinpoint which we would choose.”
“Who cares?” Devon reached the window. Cole stepped up next to him. “Vampires move fast, and all the hotels we had to choose from had plenty of dead space around them. Right now, we’re easy pickin’s.”
The air left Devon’s body and Cole swore under his breath. Or he probably thought it was under his breath.
They were looking at something—no, someone—in the parking lot.
“It’s just one, though,” Cole said as Dillon joined them. “And it isn’t Vlad.”
A feeling of unease tingled across Charity’s skin, and not just because the vampires were again trying to nab her. For one heart-stopping moment, she’d hoped it was Vlad. She was desperate to ask him about her mother. If her mom was nearby, surely Charity could spare a day or two to visit her. See her face again. Hear her voice.
Ask her why she’d left her daughter behind.
“Awful cheeky, standing there in the light, looking up at this window,” Cole said. “Aw-ful cheeky.”
“It’s Vlad’s underling,” Devon growled. “I remember its face from the grocery store parking lot where they tried to grab Charity.”
“Vlad doesn’t want to get barbecued again,” Andy said. “He’s probably around here somewhere, though, running the show from the shadows.”
“Most likely.” Devon turned from the window, and his gaze burned into Charity. He yanked his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen. “Everyone, get ready to move. Prepare to fight your way out of here.”
Chapter Eight
“Roger, we have a problem,” Devon said into the phone as a metallic click caught Charity’s attention. Barbara, standing closest to the door, cocked her head. She must’ve heard it as well, but didn’t know the origin.
Charity did.
“The door.” She pushed herself to standing amid a wave of dizziness. “The lock on the door!”
Barbara darted forward as the handle turned. She cranked the deadbolt back over but didn’t bother with the chain. Why would she? A vampire could shoulder through that in a moment.
“What’s the ETA?” Devon shouted into the phone, darting into the connected bedroom. A moment later, Charity’s long black bag came flying into the room. Metal clanked within it, her weapons riding atop her clothes.
“Time to get angry, Charity.” Andy hurried to the duffel and pulled back the zipper. He extracted a finely wrought sword with a deep crimson blade. “I realize you’re not feeling your best, but being tired has got to be better than being a vampire’s food source.”
The lock clicked over again, and Barbara flicked it back. “What’s the plan?” she yelled.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” came a musical voice through the door.
“Well, you know where we are.” Andy brought the sword to Charity. “Take a hint.”
“Smells like an upper-mid-level,” Barbara said. Still not Vlad.
Charity hated the small twinge of disappointment. She squeezed the familiar handle of her sword. Strength seeped into her, though not enough to counteract the fatigue.
Devon reentered nude with a pile of clothes between his hands and anxiety pooling in his eyes. His bare chest rippled with muscle as he dropped the items into Charity’s duffel before zipping it up. He met Charity’s eyes. “Stay safe. I need you to take my change of clothes to the van. I don’t want to meet your people naked.”
She huffed out an unexpected laugh.
Devon looked around the room as the shifters peeled off their clothes. “Roger has help on the way. She’s nearly at the portal site now. We’ve had a stroke of luck with timing.”
“Or Vlad realized he was running out of time and had to engage quickly,” Cole replied.
“Or that.” Andy pulled off his shirt. “But seriously, can we have someone round up the clothes? Because Devon’s not the only one who’d rather not meet Charity’s people naked.”
“I’ve got it,” Yasmine said.
“I can help,” Rod replied. He glanced at Yasmine. “You’ll need someone to guard your six.”
She nodded, and Devon did the same. He stepped closer to Charity, who had her sword in her weaker left hand, the note in her right hand.
“I know the pull to see your mother again is strong,” he said softly. The lock clicked over. Barbara flicked it back. “And I want nothing more than to escort you to her. In fact, I promise to escort you to her…when you’re no longer in danger from your magic. But right now, we have to get you to the Flush. We have no choice in that. You have no choice in that. Can you accept that?”
“We’ve got demons,” Cole yelled from the window, his voice filling every inch of the room. He stripped off his sweats, and Charity got an eyeful. The man had size everywhere.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore her throbbing head. Her body still felt like it had been scraped hollow and filled with Silly Putty. Her heart still ached.
“If Vlad knows where she is today, he’ll know where she is a week from now,” Devon urged, his hands tightening on her upper arms. “I need you to get angry, Charity. I need you to want to fight. To ignore the pull of Vlad.”
Her head whipped up of its own accord and her eyes widened. It was like he had read her secrets, the feelings she was desperately trying to ignore. She tightened her hand around the note.
A tiny smile ghosted his lips. “You’ve never been able to hide things from me. Now is no different.” The smile disappeared. “We need you—I need you—to stay safe. To protect yourself. Will you do that?”
She searched for her inner fire, hoping it would incinerate her emotions. It didn’t. She nodded anyway. She desperately wanted to see her mom, but Devon was right. More, he and his pack were risking their lives for her. She couldn’t ask them for any more than what they were already giving.
This time, the nod came more easily. Determination hardened her resolve.
“Hopefully you won
’t have to save my life, again,” he said, and grinned, the heaviness in his tone easing a little. He believed in her. Now it was time for her to believe in herself. To the room, he said, “Our goal is to get to the vans and then the portal. This will all come down to timing. We’re fighting and running on this one. Maim and move on, kill only if it’s convenient. Yasmine and Rod, you’re driving. Get the gear and get out. Shouldn’t be hard—it’s mostly all dumped in Dillon’s room.”
The lock clicked over again. Barbara was on it.
A fierce look crossed Devon’s face. “That’s the last time. Next time, we run out to meet them. Charity, are you set?”
She slid the note into her jeans pocket and sucked in a deep breath. She’d never tried to access her magic so soon after a power dump, and truth be told, she was more than a little afraid to do so. She had very few resources to stop her power from taking over. That was if it even came at all.
“I’ll do my best,” she said, pulling for rage to help get things moving. Hell, she’d settle for mild disappointment.
Devon squeezed her arms, and his eyes delved into hers for a beat. Warmth blossomed in her chest, deep and intense and heartfelt. He was saying I love you without the words.
She smiled and put a palm over his heart, knowing now wasn’t the time for soggy declarations and fervent PDA (not that it had stopped them before).
“Let’s roll. Change form.” Devon stepped back from Charity. “Barbara, wait for that lock to click over before—”
“I’ll do it,” Charity said, shifting her sword to her right hand and immediately feeling a small vibration in her grip. Like shaking hands with an old friend. Some of the fatigue cleared, sapped from her strung-out muscles, but she was still running on fumes.
Magic flared through the room. It flirted with that spark deep inside of her, the one that never went out. It felt comforting and refreshing. It felt right.
Almost immediately, however, the spark turned to heat. Her fear rose as the heat turned into a molten gush of magic, then a torrent. She tried to temper the flow. To float on top of it instead of being sucked under, but she didn’t have any resources left.
“Point me at the enemy,” she said, her voice wispy. “If I lose myself, just point me at the enemy and back—”
A cool breeze, foreign to the stuffy hotel room, danced across her face. The smell of mud and horses tickled her nose. Light flared from above and the hotel ceiling peeled away into the strange orange sky she remembered from the Realm.
“What’s…happening?” Her voice echoed in her ears. Sleek mail covered her body, decorated with intricate scrolls and designs like the blade of her sword.
“Charity?”
Devon’s voice drifted on the breeze. His large black wolf form waited beside her, his hackles raised and his teeth bared. He shouldn’t be able to call her name like that when he was in wolf form. To the other side of Devon waited an equally large gray wolf, a growl deep in its throat. Without seeing its dual-colored eyes, she knew it was Roger.
“That doesn’t make sense…” Her voice still didn’t sound quite right. Something told her it didn’t belong in the moment she was witnessing—the words didn’t fit. “He isn’t here right now.”
“Charity!”
Mud and grass stretched out in front of her, and a voice in the back of her mind whispered, “This is a field of battle.”
She heard Devon say, “Hurry, everyone change. Change! Yasmine and Rod, as soon as we clear the door, get moving. She’s not in control.”
But she was. Charity was in control, just not exactly in the present. She felt so damn good. So light and carefree. The blood song called to her, winding through the air. Pulling her home.
Across the battlefield, she saw the perfect face of Vlad smiling at her sadly. She’d picked the wrong side, and he’d be loath to kill her, she knew. Beside him stood a man with black, slicked-back hair and a face made by angels. He wore formfitting jeans and a crisp white button-up shirt, completely inappropriate for the battlefield, yet somehow not out of place. Behind them stood row after row of vampires in monster form, demons, goblins, and other large, lumbering beasts.
She glanced to the left, her hand tightening on the hilt of her sword. A man who looked familiar nodded in acknowledgment, love and pride in his eyes. Fanning out beside and behind him were men and women dressed in the same battle gear she wore. They oozed magic like a wound oozes blood, but it comforted rather than frightened her. Her kindred. They nodded to her.
“Battle is a part of us,” she said, loud and clear. These words did not seem hollow and out of place. They clearly belonged in the scene she was witnessing. “We have the blood of warriors. We will decide the victor.”
Three figures stood between the two groups, pushed off to the side and standing close together, their formation something of a pyramid. Charity couldn’t make out their features. Opposite them, halfway between Charity’s and Vlad’s groups, waited a breathtaking man who could only be a vampire.
Expectation rose. The song of battle intensified. But still they waited.
They waited for her.
A blink and it was all gone. The light faded and the colors muted into the dingy yellows and beiges of the run-down hotel suite. Furry bodies launched past her, heading for the open door. A huge, snarling wolf stepped into the doorframe and blocked the others from leaving.
Devon tore his lupine gaze from her, and a growl rumbled deep in his chest. If she had to guess, Dale was challenging him, even now. He probably didn’t think they should rush out with Charity in this state.
But for the first time since the battle at Devon’s house, she felt strong and capable. Ready to kick some ass.
“Let’s go,” she yelled, noticing Steve and Cole were still in human form. “What’s the hold-up?”
Steve winked. “Too many wolves in here. Not enough space for the big guns.”
Devon rushed forward, pushing through the furry bodies to get to Dale. In front of the mutinous wolf stood two vampires, their eyes hard and their claws extended from human hands. Only higher-level vamps could partially transform like that.
Didn’t matter. They were blocking her way.
“Move!” Charity pumped a pulse of power in front of her, clearing the wolves to the side (a little more forcefully than she’d planned). The vampires’ eyes found her immediately. One grinned.
She lifted her hand to send bursts of power after them, but they dashed down the hallway, one in each direction. They were trying to split Devon’s pack.
“Filthy buggers,” she grumbled, pausing just outside the door. Wolves filed out around her, spreading out but not following the vampires.
A bone-shaking roar ripped through the hotel, followed by a different, but no less heart-stopping, cry.
“The lion, the yeti, and the dingy hotel suite,” Charity said as Devon ran right. “One wonders why that never became a beloved children’s book.”
Doors opened down the hall. A curious man, a confused woman, and a delighted kid all poked their heads out of their respective rooms.
“The wildlife exhibit has run amok,” Charity yelled, belatedly realizing that excuse wouldn’t explain her sword. “Just kidding…it’s cosplay! These are dogs!”
Andy growled at her side.
She laughed as they turned the corner, closing in on the stairs.
“You guys would be screwed if you didn’t have someone around with opposable thumbs, huh?” Charity ran through the sudden parting in the furry crowd and ripped the stairwell door open. They caught a flash of their prey’s back as he headed down the steps.
Considering the speed at which vampires could run, it was clear this one had waited for them. He wanted to keep the pack right on his heels.
Charity gritted her teeth as they thundered down the stairs, nearly barreling into a random woman who’d picked an unfortunate time for her trip to the ice machine. She screamed as she ducked out of the stairwell, her eyes riveted on the wolves.
&nb
sp; “Call the pound,” Charity yelled, hoping the woman wouldn’t call the cops.
At the bottom of the stairwell, not even winded, Charity stopped with her hand on the newly shut door. The vampire had just run through. There was no telling what waited for them outside.
Devon yipped, and Charity had a feeling he was trying to express something to her. Wolves filed in around her, their large bodies stuffed into the small space. The rest waited on the stairs, Steve with his huge body and bushy mane in front of an even larger form, the snowy-white yeti. As a human, Cole was faintly ridiculous, but as a yeti he was fearsome, arms pushed out to the sides and wicked fangs dripping drool.
“I would not want to be the enemy,” Charity said as she felt Devon’s nose on her thigh, shoving.
Time to go.
She yanked open the door and then staggered and nearly fell as the wolves pushed out ahead of her. They’d spread out into a circle around her by the time she was able to get through the door into the warm, humid night.
Few cars sat in the spaces, leaving the battlefield mostly bare. Bare, except for the enemy vampire host emerging from the surrounding trees and hedges. There were only a handful, but they ran over with easy, liquid grace, denoting their age and therefore their dangerousness.
“Could be worse—”
A smoldering humanoid form walked from around the corner of the property, its eyes pits of fire, its arms too long, and its chest covered in molting, burned skin.
“The fae will come with us,” one of the nearest vampires said.
“Maybe not,” Charity said.
Chapter Nine
Charity’s power throbbed within her, hot and ready. Sweet and light. Music, on key this time, curled within the breeze.
The door behind them opened. Yasmine and Rod ran out of the hotel, each laden with bags. Devon launched himself toward the vampire who had spoken. The others were right behind him. More demons poured from around the corner up ahead, all of them burned-looking, and one with actual flames dancing from its arms.
Warrior Fae Princess Page 6
