Warrior Fae Trapped: A DDVN Book

by Breene, K. F.

  “But her smell—”

  “Was not the smell of a human in transition. Not even remotely. In the absolute simplest of terms, she smelled…” Amazing. Out-of-this-world fantastic. So great it had made his mouth water. “…good. Vampires smell bad. See the issue?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jimmy murmured.

  “You scared her into that house. She wasn’t even supposed to be here, for all we know, and now her death warrant is signed. She’ll be food, without question, and very few food sources brought to these things make it out. You all but guaranteed that we’ll have one more to clean up.”

  Jimmy looked up with round eyes, his body shaking. “Sorry, sir,” he bleated, finally submitting. “It’s just—she seemed so sure of herself, you know? Usually dames are either half scared or half turned on by us. And she’d come from the house, and I—”

  Devon let the rage infuse his eyes, cutting off the yammering. “You screwed up on this one. You’ll face the consequences.”

  Jimmy gulped. He nodded mutely and resumed staring at the ground.

  Devon bit back a curse. He wanted to send Jimmy home, but he couldn’t. He needed every last member of his pack to take on the newbies. Roger and his pack would be wrapped up in combat with the elder and the upper-middle-level vamps.

  “Get into position and change forms,” Devon barked. “Roger is moving into position as we speak. The vampires have pulled back their territory presence to the house, which means they’re preparing a fierce defense. We should assume they know we’re in the area. We’ll strike in an hour, two tops. We aim to get them while they’re at their most vulnerable.”

  “Sorry, boss,” Jimmy said again.

  Devon clenched his teeth. It didn’t sound like Jimmy meant it.

  Oh yes, he’d be dealt with.

  “Go,” Devon said, turning his back on the lesser male.

  The memory of the girl’s smell resurfaced. He recalled the strange light that had kindled in her eyes, making them glow, when he’d advanced on her. It had sparked something, that light. The perfume of her had oozed a little thicker, tantalizing. Mouth-watering. He’d never smelled anything like it. He wanted to bottle it up and spray it on everything around him. It was intriguing and irritating at the same time.

  She had a fighting background. She’d moved fast and efficiently. Regardless, she wasn’t fast enough to take on a vamp. And that smell, whatever it was, would attract them in droves. They’d overcome her in moments.

  Guilt and regret pinched his gut as he turned and jogged down the hill, returning to check on the rest of his pack. There was nothing he could do about it now. Her only chance was to hunker down until help arrived. Best-case scenario, she found a closet to barricade herself in until Roger and crew could make it in there.

  As he moved away, one thought floated up: I should’ve warned her that vampires can magically open locks.

  Chapter Nine

  Charity startled awake. She jolted in the narrow bed before pushing to sitting and wiping her eyes. She shouldn’t have given in to the urge to lie down. The late hour and the boredom had lulled her to sleep.

  The tiny pink clock on the white, lollipop-looking bedside table read 2:47. She held in her sigh of relief. Given the level of effort in the horizontal gymnastics she’d witnessed earlier, everyone’s stamina should’ve given out by now. Their fatigue would be wearing off, and those not accustomed to sharing a bed would be ready to slink away.

  She got to her feet and tiptoed to the door. A patrol of the hallway would give her a good indication of the state of affairs. If a few rooms were empty, she’d try to find a window that looked down on the driveway. She didn’t dare wander out there again—who knew where Devon and his homicidal friend would be in their acid trip. They might be rigging booby traps out there for all she knew. The crazy made a point of doing crazy things.

  She grabbed the lock to flip it, and a blast of apprehension ran her through.

  The door was unlocked.

  Waves of adrenaline pumped into her blood.

  She’d locked it when she’d come in. She knew she had. She’d stood here, fumbled for a second to grab it, and cranked it over. She vividly remembered feeling the tiny bit of assurance a lock could give.

  Why was it now unlocked?

  Barely able to stand still for the sudden anxiety throbbing in her chest and the blood pounding in her ears, she backed up a couple of steps to the middle of the room. Turning slowly, afraid of what she’d find, she looked at the other bed.

  The soft sound caught her attention first. So soft she hadn’t heard it until now, when she was really listening. Panting, almost, like a dog in the hot sun. Shallow, quick breathing, barely audible.

  Gritting her teeth and peering through the heavy darkness, she could barely make out a shape, something like a miniature mountain range, in the glow from the clock on the other nightstand. Moving closer, her skin crawling and her insides dancing with unease, she narrowed her eyes to see who had picked the lock, or perhaps found the key.

  Some of the mountains rose and fell, and it took Charity a moment to see that the tempo of the movements matched the panting. Large breasts, their nipples erect. A woman, then, her hands at her sides and the rest of her body still.

  A thread of worry wormed through Charity. Was the woman in trouble? Was she suffering from posttraumatic stress? Or had Charity been wrong about the stamina of the partiers running out, and they’d simply changed rooms?

  The thread of worry changed to a rush of anger. If this woman was in trouble, Charity would help in any way she could. If nothing else, she’d beat the offender senseless. If it was the other…well, maybe they needed a good thump for breaking into her chosen room. She was tired and grumpy and about done with the insanity.

  She took another couple of steps and grabbed the glowing clock radio before turning it toward the bed. Platinum-blonde hair caught her notice. The scowler! Just as Charity had thought, she lay nude on top of the covers, her hands at her sides and legs straight. Her eyelids flickered and her eyeballs moved under the skin, as though she were in an intense REM cycle.

  Beside her lay an equally nude man with an incredibly defined body and a great set of arms crossed over his chest. He was trying to make himself smaller so the woman would fit in the bed. On his neck, nearly lost to the shadows, was a trickle of liquid seeping from a gash.

  Was that…?

  Charity leaned in a little.

  That was blood. The woman had gone for an overzealous hickey and actually drawn blood.

  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.

  Charity’s disbelieving though incredibly uncomfortable chuckle disturbed the near silence of the room. She shook her head, flicking her glance down the bed. Between strong thighs stood a large erection.

  Charity jerked back, and her face flamed in the darkness. The man’s eyes snapped open. His head fell to the side and his gaze landed on her.

  “Hmm. You smell delicious,” he said, sexy and sinful and sensual. “I am ready for you.”

  “Good God.” Charity staggered backward. “No, no. Ha! Ha. No. I’m just… I was in here, see?” Why did she suddenly sound like a nineteen-thirties gangster? “I was sleeping on that other bed, and you came in…”

  “I can handle one more. The previous specimens were fairly weak in their need.” He rose like a mummy in an old-timey movie, his torso lifting up with no turning or help from his hands. “But you… I can feel the strength in you. The power. Are you human? What are you?”

  “Grossed out, mostly.” She took another step back. “Honestly, this is a simple matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t mean to spy. I was just wondering why someone broke into my room.”

  “It is not your room. It is Vlad’s room, and he has given leave for his children to use it. You are not ready to cross over. Did he put you here as a refreshing snack? He
is a thoughtful master.”

  “Good God,” Charity said again, reaching down to grab Sam’s shoes. “You’re talking crazy. Everyone at this damn party is talking crazy. This is no place for a person like me. I have no sense of humor.”

  “I can lick the humor into you.”

  “That’s…not…flattering for you.” She hurried toward the door. She could fight him off, sure, but his dick’s standing ovation was disconcerting. It’d be best if she got the hell out of there.

  He bounced off the bed like he’d been ejected and landed on the floor next to it, his knees bent to absorb the impact. He straightened up slowly, and the soft glow of the clock revealed the smile curling his lips. “You’re gorgeous. A refined, pixie-like beauty. All natural. I love it. I hope you taste as good as you smell.”

  “Nope.” She reached for the handle, hardly believing what she’d just seen. This guy should be in the naked Olympics or something. “Jesus, man, put that thing away.”

  He surged forward, a little jerky but incredibly fast despite it. She ripped the door open, her body in flee mode. She’d never fought a naked guy coated in sex, and she really didn’t want to start now.

  His reaching fingers grabbed the side of the door. She stopped, planted a foot, and side-kicked with the other. Her foot hit the man’s chest center mass. The sound of material ripping competed with his grunt as the loudest thing in the room. She’d ripped Sam’s dress.

  “Damn it,” she said as he flew back. “Look what you made me do!”

  She plunged into the hall, the scuffling behind her electrifying her body. She started jogging as pounding feet ran behind her. The kick hadn’t deterred him. He was coming after her!

  Before she could decide to run faster, yell, or turn and confront her fear of bodily fluids smeared on a naked man, a door swung open ahead, emitting a ghastly creature born in a nightmare. Long, matted hair fell over bony shoulders. Breasts like deflated balloons drooped from a skeletal, greenish chest, the skin hollowed between a xylophone of ribs. A ghastly face hissed, showing two huge fangs protruding from black gums.

  “Holy fuck-tarts, what the fuck?” Charity said, dodging a reaching claw-like hand, its nails ending in sharp points. Horror blocked out her thoughts. The discomfort from a moment before turned into full-fledged panic.

  More doors swung open, strange howls ripping at the night. Charity ran so fast that she could barely feel her legs. She hit the stairs, taking them two at a time, hearing animal-like thumping behind her.

  Faster!

  She jumped down the last four steps, stumbling on the marble floor, and sprinted for the front door. For a way out. Maybe even for Devon. He’d been interested in her safety, hadn’t he? Maybe he wasn’t crazy or high after all. Besides, he was strong. Powerful. Allying with him was the best chance she had.

  If she could get to him.

  Her bare feet slapped the marble before she jumped down two steps into a den. A shape appeared in the far archway. A flaccid penis waggled between bowed legs, swampy skin nearly white. The thing was cutting off her exit.

  A burst of fear exploded deep in her gut. That ember within her, which she’d first felt outside, flared to life again, but this time the heat started to burn through her middle. Electricity zapped down her arms and legs, filling her body. Clearing her mind.

  She spun and barely zipped past the creature that had been chasing her. Its clawed hands reached for her, flicking her hair as she passed. A horrible, inhuman screech filled the room.

  Mind buzzing with barely contained panic, she thundered down a hallway and burst into some sort of sitting room. Veering right, hearing the breathing behind her, she sprinted toward the next doorway and around a corner.

  A claw came out of nowhere, reaching for her face. She screamed in surprise, batting it away and ducking under the other hand, never losing speed as she bolted into the kitchen.

  The sliding glass door! Up ahead and thankfully open. All she had to do was get through that door. She was sure of it.

  The click-click-click didn’t make sense at first. Until she saw one of the creatures running, trying to head her off.

  Faster!

  With a burst of speed she didn’t realize she had in her, she raced that thing to the exit.

  It reached the opening in the glass at the same moment she did. Claws raked down her arm. Crying out, she veered and bounced off the doorjamb. She staggered, but caught herself, and pushed her way into the night air.

  Another creature came at her from just outside. Claws swung at her face. She screamed and dodged out of reflex. Fangs glistening in the moonlight, the thing screeched like a bird of prey. Black saliva dripped from equally black gums.

  “Oh God!” she cried, pivoting. A claw raked across her back. Pain made her adrenaline throb.

  She jumped off the two steps beyond the door and landed awkwardly on the stone walkway. Her weight took her to the ground, the fall too awkward for her to turn it into a roll. She glanced up with her heart in her mouth, seeing a claw slashing down.

  Lightning surged through her body, responding to her fear. A strange power throbbed deep inside her gut. Sweet effulgence flooded her, electricity sizzling down her limbs as she threw her arms up to protect her face.

  Like a strobe light with the wattage of the sun, radiance rained down on the swampy creature. It howled in pain and rage, shrinking from the intense glow.

  Not knowing what was happening, but knowing she’d gained an advantage, no matter how short-lived, Charity hopped up and surged forward, sprinting down the stone path toward the front yard, desperately hoping that safety was close at hand.

  When she was halfway down the path, exhaustion creeping into her limbs, the light blinked off behind her. The night washed back in, cutting down her visibility. Her toe hit a divot and her body lurched toward the side of the house. Bouncing off the siding, she staggered forward, desperate to keep her momentum.

  Another screech sounded, the hunter sighting its prey.

  Please no!

  The door of the fence surrounding the backyard loomed ten feet in front of her, tears of panic and fear making it swim and jiggle in her vision. She was almost there!

  Pushing past the fatigue, hellbent on getting through that gate, Charity put on another burst of speed, and then screamed. A fanged face had stepped through the side door she’d used earlier in the night, arms out to grab her.

  She threw up her hands again, blocking her face. Her body flooded with hot spice, a crackling sound drowning out the screeches from all around her. Sunlight, weaker now, once again rained down. The sizzle of flesh competed with the bug zapper sound of the light. She had done this, she realized, although she didn’t understand how. There was no time to consider the implications—although the creature ahead of her stumbled back into the house, howling, the one behind her pushed through the light, its hiss trailing her up the walk.

  She willed herself onward, trying to ignore the fatigue. Her dragging limbs.

  A fierce growl dragged her gaze left.

  Loping across the sparkling grass, hair bristling and teeth bared, ran the largest wolf she had ever seen. Adrenaline sharpened her senses as the bright moonlight fell across the beast. Bigger than a Great Dane, it watched her with humanlike intelligence, cataloguing her movements with dual-colored eyes, one pale blue, one dirty green.

  Oh no! Oh, God. Oh no!

  Its growl competed with the hiss of the thing behind her, two huge beasts bearing down on her. The gate swam into focus, five feet away. Three.

  The wolf lunged. Graceful death.

  Time slowed down.

  She reached for that electricity. For that flare of light she had somehow caused.

  Nothing happened.

  Canine teeth were bared, paws spread wide as the wolf flew through the air. Her heart rang through her ears.

  The next growl ended in a sickening crunch of bone. The wolf had slammed into the creature behind her.

  More wolves followed the first—hu
ge, agile animals running through the yard. Their fierce growls filled the night air, interspersed with angry screeches. Charity didn’t know if they were fighting each other or not, but the distraction gave her a little cover.

  Staggering like a drunk trying to pass a sobriety test, she lurched through the door and into the front yard, turning to her right. Hope filled every inch of her being, fighting the desperation. But instead of finding Devon, all she found was another large wolf.

  A cry wrestled with her newest scream. The beast snarled, its lips pulling back from large canines. It loped forward, on the attack.

  She turned toward the cars.

  A giant black wolf blocked her way.

  Its lips pulled back from its teeth in a silent snarl. It took a quick step-jump, ready to attack, only to hesitate at the last moment. Its head dropped, assessing her in that way predators sussed out their prey. A soft bark and it circled wide.

  She didn’t stop to wonder what was going on. She ran. What else could she do? Blood freezing in dread, she kept going, willing her feet to carry her a little further. If only she could find cover.

  No, if only she’d wake up!

  Another wolf approached from the right. One more, from the left and slightly in front. They were closing in on her, operating on silent commands. Working together like dancers in a show. She didn’t have much energy left. Lead filled her limbs.

  Please wake up…

  The gray wolf on the right was the first to lunge. Mouth open, it chomped toward her outstretched arm. She pulled her arm away and swung the other around to punch it in the side. Her fist connected with fur. A blast without fire concussed the air. Light shimmered. The wolf yelped and flew away.

  She stared for one beat, unsure what had happened. But another beast was already jumping at her. She dropped Sam’s shoes, still, miraculously, in her hand. She hit this one the same as the first. Once again, the air concussed and the wolf flew away, rolling across the ground like it was caught in a windstorm.