Warrior Fae Trapped: A DDVN Book

by Breene, K. F.

  “Crap,” she muttered, hurrying to stand. All the blood rushed to her head and she wobbled forward.

  Sam would absolutely leave her, especially if she’d hooked up with someone. Granted, she’d be an enormous fool to drive drunk, especially on the small, winding road out of this place, but if she’d sobered up and taken off, Charity would be screwed.

  She peered in a window as she passed. No one waited in the darkened room. No shapes writhed in the corners or on the couch. But there were a ton of rooms in that house—hopefully the rest weren’t deserted.

  She rounded the house, but instead of heading for the front door, she hobbled down the driveway to the line of parked cars, thankfully about as full as when they’d first shown up. A bird blared out a warning, this one from the poolside of the house. Either it sensed her, or someone else was wandering around the area. She hoped for the latter. People awake meant a chance at a ride out of here. A couple of them went to the same school, after all. They’d probably live in a similar area.

  Halfway down the line of cars and the bumper of Sam’s Porsche peeked out around an Audi. Charity’s sigh of relief felt like it came up from her toes. Sam wouldn’t leave her car behind. She was still here.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Charity jumped and slapped a hand to her chest, where her heart was trying to break free and sprint away. A guy drifted out of the darkness. Graceful and covered in lean muscle, he reminded her of the guys hanging out with Devon. She didn’t remember seeing his face, but then, she’d barely glanced at anyone but Devon.

  “Once you go in, you don’t come out,” he said, his voice low and rough and full of menace. Danger radiated from him, that predatory essence she’d been encountering a lot lately.

  Her small hairs stood on end and warning vibrated through her body.

  “Wh-what?” she asked. She minutely shook her head, trying to get her thoughts back on track. “Look, bud, I don’t want any trouble. I’m only out here to check on my ride situation.”

  “You haven’t completed the change yet, have you?” He continued to stroll closer, his energy advertising his vicious intent.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She ambled backward, pissed that she didn’t have a change of footwear. She’d never fought in heels before, especially unforgiving, abnormally uncomfortable heels, but she’d do what she had to.

  “No?” He increased his pace, not about to let her get away. His button-up shirt drifted to the sides of his defined chest, but his advance wasn’t sexual. “How many cups of elixir did you drink?”

  “I don’t drink,” she said. Moving backward was slowing her down, but she wasn’t about to turn her back on this guy.

  He cocked his head, and in the dim lighting, she could just see his eyes narrow. “Now, now, you don’t need to lie to me. You already smell different.”

  “Now you’re talking crazy.” She gritted her teeth against the pain of blisters forming from the shoes and pushed faster, twenty yards from the house and ten from him. Except he kept gaining on her.

  “You should’ve stayed in the nest until you morphed. You would’ve had a better chance. But it’s better this way. I’ll kill you quick and easy. It’ll be painful for you, I won’t lie, but at least it won’t be prolonged, right? I don’t even need to change to do it.”

  Her heart quickened, which was amazing, because it was already beating a mile a minute. She took long strides just short of a run, knowing he’d probably spring into action as soon as she tried to book it. She needed to distract him until she could make a fast hobble-sprint into the house and scream for help.

  “Why are you loitering outside, anyway?” she asked, turning for a few fast steps before glancing back. Sure enough, he’d jogged a couple of steps forward. Her breathing harried, she nearly wanted to stop and strip off the heels, but she didn’t have time. He’d be on her before the first buckle was through the loop.

  His thin lips pulled up into a sneer. “Waiting for you, of course.”

  She shook her head. Fifteen yards to the house, five from him. She’d never make it. She’d need to stand her ground, get in a hard shot to a vulnerable area—eye, throat, or groin—and then hobble-sprint.

  She stopped and faced him, her feet planted and her hands out, pretending to ward off his advance. He’d think she was helpless, lose his wary edge, and give her an easy in.

  She hoped.

  “I don’t even know you,” she said, allowing fear to ride in her voice. Playing into her role as a helpless damsel in distress.

  “Did you even ask what was in that drink?” he asked, his energy becoming eager. He sensed blood about to be spilled and it excited him.

  Cold washed through her body. Fear pulsed deep inside.

  She maintained her calm. She was trained for this. Ready.

  “He said it was unicorn blood,” she said.

  The guy sneered. “I didn’t know vampires told jokes.”

  “Dude, you need to lay off the drugs. They are having a bad effect on you.”

  Three yards away and the guy stopped, facing her. The lights from the front porch gleamed in his manic eyes. He leaned forward, all eager anticipation.

  “Not me. You.” His muscles coiled and he sprang, his hands out and reaching for her throat.

  She swung her hand up as she turned, pushing his reaching hands to the side, fast-stepped to him, as much as she could manage in the shoes, and punched him in the middle, hard and fast. The breath gushed out of his mouth. She turned, wobbling, and sharp pain cut through her heel. She ignored it and slammed her other fist into the side of the guy’s neck, losing some force because of her unsure footing.

  “What the hell—” The guy’s body shivered. A strange green mist drifted around him.

  “Stop!”

  The voice rang out, deep and full of command she couldn’t help but heed. The guy in front of her froze just as she did, the manic light in his eyes drying up and alertness taking over.

  Devon strode up the driveway, his face hard, an air of command pumping out of every pore in his body. Now was the time to run. To yell for help. But all she could do was stand and stare, caught in his influence.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked, barking each word.

  A new fear trembled through Charity, one she didn’t understand. Something within her didn’t want to disappoint him. Didn’t want him to be angry with her.

  She took a step back, remembering the fog of lust from the unbelievably attractive man in the house. This was similar, but not sexual. This was like seeing her battle commander stalk up and feeling the need to fall in line.

  “What is happening to me tonight?” she asked in a daze.

  “You drank an elixir that will change you,” Devon said, stepping between her and the other guy. “Did you take blood?”

  “I…” His strong presence felt like a blow to her middle. “I didn’t drink— The punch, you mean? I didn’t drink any. I don’t drink.” She shook within the power of his proximity.

  “She’s lying,” the maniac guy said, his eyes narrowing at her. “She hasn’t changed, but she is on the way. You can smell it.”

  Devon bristled and half turned. He didn’t need to say a word. The other guy visibly backed down, his back bowing and his eyes drifting toward the ground. It was clear who held social status here. Good news for her.

  Devon turned back toward her. His commanding presence locked her up again, keeping her feet solidly planted on the ground. She had no idea how. It was starting to rankle.

  “You didn’t drink the elixir?” he demanded.

  “Why do you keep calling it an elixir? Seriously, it was just punch.” She stared up into his classically handsome face. Not perfect, like the beauty of the guy inside, but with a rugged flair she much preferred. “What do you mean, change me? What the hell is going on here?”

  He leaned forward a bit, transferring his weight to the balls of his feet. A fighter’s move.

  A
flare of fire tickled her middle.

  I will rock your world, mama’s boy. And throw your shoes on the nearest telephone wire.

  And she definitely could’ve…in her runners.

  Damn you, Sam, and your stupid fashion.

  “It was not just punch. It was a special elixir to prepare your body for the transformation into a vampire. Taking a vampire’s blood will complete the change. If you do not take blood, you won’t be transformed, but you’ll be vulnerable to them for the rest of your life. So this is very important, did you drink that…punch?”

  The crazy words were delivered in such an earnest tone that she almost believed him.

  She huffed out a laugh and edged backward.

  “Did you drink some of the punch?” he demanded, moving into her personal space. His size dominated her. Body bristling, muscles tense, he waited for something. It almost seemed like he was daring her to defy his unspoken command to stay put.

  Like a breeze gently worrying a single leaf on the autumn ground, something tickled the roots of her being. An ember flared to life deep within her chest, kick-starting a trickle of pure adrenaline, like a natural spring. Electricity poured into her arms and legs as she sucked in a sweet shock of cool air.

  Her chin lifted of its own accord; she was defiant within his hard stare. Yet strangely excited to meet it. She couldn’t help the start of a smile. Like when she was sparring with her old martial arts instructor, she felt gloriously alive.

  “I get it.” She nodded in understanding, taking another step away. “You guys were down there doing acid or something, and you’ve come to crash the party, like Sam said you would. You’re seeing things, right? Alternate universes.” She nodded again, wondering if Devon would turn on a dime and start talking about killing her, just like the first guy had. Maybe they were on bath salts. “Cool. No, I didn’t drink the secret elixir or vampire blood. I came out here to get away from everyone, and now I’m going to go check on my roommate. You can probably come in. I don’t think the door-knocker watcher will be there.”

  “She smells, boss,” the first guy said.

  “I think that’s her natural smell,” Devon responded. “The one Andy talked about.”

  Charity didn’t wait for them to finish their discussion about her stench. She lurched into a hobble-sprint—better late than never—pumping her arms and taking big strides, trying to cover as much ground as possible. Her ankles wobbled.

  “I got her,” the first guy yelled out.

  “No, wait—”

  Feet slapped the ground behind Charity. A hand wrapped around her upper arm and whipped her around.

  “Let her go!”

  But the guy didn’t listen. His other hand was already closing around her throat.

  She jabbed his eyes with her fingers and slammed her fist into his throat. Although he’d already lost his grip, she swung her whole arm up to knock him away faster, shoving him toward an advancing Devon with all her might.

  The two guys grappled with each other to find their feet, but Charity was already sprint-hobbling again, heart in her throat and nearly at the door.

  “No, wait,” Devon said again.

  This time she didn’t hear the footsteps. She was already at the door, shoving it open, when a larger hand, stronger, closed around her wrist. He yanked her back, but she turned and kicked, using the doorframe to steady herself. Faster than lightning, he dodged and reached for her with his second hand.

  She ripped free, slapping at his hands, and ran through the door. Her heel slipped and she was falling, the yell for help caught in her throat. She expected his body to slam into her. His hands to wrap around her and drag her back. But nothing happened.

  He stood in the threshold. His gaze darted around like a pinball—past her, down to the ground in front of him, up to the doorframe—before finally settling on her. He shook his head slowly, his intelligent gaze sparkling with warning.

  “Come out,” he whispered, as though the house were a sleeping dragon and he didn’t want to wake it. “It is incredibly dangerous for you in there. They’ll kill you. Come out. Come back to me. I can protect you.”

  She scrambled to her feet, pain shooting through her toes and heels. The clack of the heels was loud in the quiet house.

  “You’re crazy,” she said, her heart still beating frantically. “Do you hear yourself? You need to go sleep it off.”

  He gripped the frame. “You don’t understand. You’re in their territory now. Please come back out. I will protect you.”

  She edged away, not wanting to turn her back on his furtive stare and drugged-out mind. He was in a fairytale right now, and she didn’t want to wake the beasties and turn his trip into the nightmare his friend was living.

  “Please,” he said again, but she was already turning the corner. Although she had no idea why he wouldn’t come inside, she was thankful for it.

  She pushed through the cavernous house, her heart ringing in her ears even more loudly for the silence. The kitchen waited, dimly lit and deserted, the crystal goblets sitting empty on the countertops.

  Where was everyone?

  She glanced at the clock over the microwave. It was much later than she had suspected, but still, it was only one o’clock. And most, if not all, of the cars were still there…

  Charity peeped through the sliding glass door into the empty backyard. Two piles of clothes lay forgotten on the dewy grass near the pool. The blue water shimmered from its subterranean light. The peace and tranquility of deep night had descended, laying a thick blanket over the party scene.

  But still…where was everyone?

  She glanced back the way she’d come, making sure Devon hadn’t followed. It was empty. Quiet.

  “This has got to be the strangest party I’ve ever heard about. Ever,” she murmured, finally slipping out of the shoes. “This can’t be a normal college deal.”

  Confused, she grabbed a glass from a cupboard and filled it with water. Leaning back against the sink, she went over her options. She could walk thirty miles home with bare feet, she could call a cab with no money to pay for it, or she could wait around until someone agreed to give her a ride home.

  “Hmm, I guess I’ll take door number three, Jimmy,” she said quietly, immediately regretting that she’d spoken out loud. Her voice was way too small for the huge, empty space.

  After finishing her water in a few glugs, Charity made her way deeper into the house, checking the many gaping rooms for any people. When she found no one, she continued toward the stairs. As she continued her search, another thought occurred to her. Donnie’s Charger was still here. Done up sporty, black on black, it was hard to miss. She hadn’t been thinking clearly when she’d glanced at it earlier, but now…

  Lead filled her chest. If he hadn’t gone for Sam, he’d found someone else. The last thing she wanted to do was walk in on him and some lady.

  Doesn’t matter. I’m lucky to be where I am.

  A wide hallway dotted with closed doors greeted her at the top of the stairs. She stood next to the first door and listened. A quiet house listened back.

  Pursing her lips, she reached for the gleaming handle before turning gently to see if it was locked. It wasn’t.

  The door swung inward slowly, revealing a dark room. Light from the window spilled across the floor and the bed. The occupied bed. She froze.

  Two bodies writhed on top of the sheets, the man’s mouth locked in a fervent kiss on the girl’s neck. His bare backside repeatedly pushed toward her body, met by the upward swing of her hips. A feminine moan curled through the air.

  Oh my God!

  Charity yanked the door shut and then winced at the thud of wood banging off wood. She stood rigid in the hallway for a moment, half in shock. She wasn’t a virgin or a prude or anything, but…yikes!

  Moving down the hallway, she tried another room, equally unlocked. Rather than swing the door open, she opened it a crack and listened. A feminine moan teamed with masculine grunts had her back
ing out quickly.

  Did no one lock doors in this place?

  Thankfully, the house had a crap-load of rooms. Not all were bedrooms, no, but based on the chorus of grunts she heard from what looked to be a bathroom, that didn’t matter.

  Had the whole party retired to the bedrooms? Was that what it was, a big hookup party?

  Sam’s conversation with the other girl blinked through her thoughts. The explanation of a hookup party fit. Devon wasn’t going to work, so Sam went for the next available bachelor in her age range. Everyone so far looked and sounded like willing participants, so they were definitely on board. The few who weren’t into the notion had probably already taken off.

  Dang it, I could’ve gotten a ride.

  After the fifth try and some furious blinking—the naked gymnastics on the pool table were a marvel—she finally stumbled into an empty bedroom. Two twin beds were stationed on opposite sides of a room organized with bins and toy boxes. Being that she was, apparently, the only one with a G-rated sleeping agenda, she figured she was doing the kids a favor by choosing their room as a crash pad.

  After locking the door firmly behind her, then checking it just to make sure, she placed Sam’s heels by the bed and fell onto a pink duvet. Judging by the duplicates of everything, the occupants were probably young twins—the only scenario by which two kids were likely to share a room in a house with countless bedrooms.

  Charity took her millionth deep breath for the night. Waiting out a sex party hadn’t been on her list of to-dos for the weekend. All she wanted to do was go home without being waylaid by the hot psychopath out front.

  Chapter Eight

  “Explain yourself,” Devon demanded, anger spiking his pulse.

  Jimmy’s face paled, but the rigidity didn’t completely leave his spine. “She was trying to get away. It’s our job to stop that.”

  “It’s your job to follow orders,” Devon said, leaning into Jimmy. “She didn’t drink the elixir. You heard her yourself.”

  “And you believe her?” Jimmy mumbled, looking at his feet.

  “You saw how confused she was. Nothing we were saying computed. She thought we were drugged up.”