Warrior Fae Trapped: A DDVN Book

by Breene, K. F.

  “Good luck,” Macy said, drifting toward the shadows.

  Luck would be on her side if Donnie strolled in as a regular, hot, hard-to-talk-to guy. Maybe he was used solely for blood? That would be gross, but at least it would still be him.

  Each step a trial in courage, Charity made her way to her class. Once there, she forced herself to walk through the door. An expansive lecture hall greeted her, with a podium set up on a small stage in front of a white screen, and stadium-style steps covered in seats going up to the back of the room. Students sat in front of their laptops, bored expressions on their faces. A few groups murmured, waiting for the professor to start his dull lecture.

  She checked her watch. Two minutes to go. Class would start anytime.

  As she scanned the faces a second time, relief flooded her. One more time for good measure, and then she climbed the steps to her usual spot in the back.

  No Donnie.

  Thank God.

  She pulled the clunky wooden desk up and over her lap. Maybe he had escaped after all. For all she knew, he was having a long chat with his father’s attorney about his next steps. That conversation would likely result in a psych evaluation, given how absurd it would sound. Such things took time, so it was reasonable to expect him to take a week off. Maybe longer.

  She dropped her backpack to the ground, forcing her thoughts elsewhere. She pulled out the fantastic laptop, top quality, with a price tag to match. Roger was really going the extra mile, trying to butter her up. Getting her a phone made sense, since communication within a company was key, but a laptop was an extravagance. She had a computer and it did the job fine, slowly but surely. Not like she was complaining. She’d barely yelled at Devon as she was ripping into the packaging, and even then, it had only been to thank him.

  The buttering up was working.

  As the laptop started, she pushed her backpack beneath her feet. Getting comfortable, she glanced at the door, just in case.

  Her heart froze solid.

  Donnie moved with grace and confidence, drifting in like a dancer. A slightly wrinkled button-up was tucked into the front of his jeans, and his hair was gelled into a spikey do, on par for his usual style and dress choices. Well, except for the wrinkles. Even so, it wasn’t immediately obvious he’d changed in any way.

  Except for his face.

  Almost glossy in appearance, like he was airbrushed in real life, his face lacked the small discolorations and imperfections of a real person. His handsome features seemed amplified. A little too perfect. Like a mask.

  Her heart sank and tears came to her eyes.

  Devon was right. They’d all been changed. The proof was right in front of her.

  Donnie took to the stairs slowly and purposefully, a predatory grin twisting his lips as he looked over the people he passed. His movements were a little too fluid and easy. She could almost read his mind: Warm bodies.

  Food storage.

  Charity’s stomach twisted like his grin. Then his dark eyes met hers.

  He didn’t notice the smiles of the girls he passed. Nor the nods of his friends. He was not interested in fist bumps or acknowledging the various people who called his name. He didn’t plan to sit with his friends. His sole interest…was her.

  “No,” she whispered as he reached the edge of her row. “Please no. Go away.”

  She’d barely given voice to the words, but still his lips pulled into a hungry smile.

  Adrenaline dumped into her body, and not just from the stare he kept trained on her. For the first time, he greeted her with a delighted smile, like a boyfriend. He was threading between the seats to get to her. To sit with her. Pleasure mingled with fear, the heat of her core messing with the warning in her brain.

  What had she been thinking, agreeing to this? She didn’t have the right amount of detachment to stay logical!

  “Hey, Charity,” he said, almost like the normal Donnie, though now his voice sounded strangely musical. He lowered into the seat next to her. “I hoped I’d see you.”

  She inhaled his scent, like she always did when he strayed close. This time, the sweet cologne mixed with the smell of a particularly pungent soap was overshadowed by a strange sort of funk. Like food gone off.

  She crinkled her nose as a pang stabbed her middle.

  “Hi, Donnie, how are you?” She rested her hand against her phone.

  “I’m good, Charity. Really good. Let’s go out after class. I’ve always wanted to ask, you know. You’re hot and smart. Something has always drawn me to you. Your clothes were the reason I held back. I’m not so petty anymore.”

  Donnie had never put this many non-sports words together at one time. He’d never hit her right in the middle with the things he said.

  Down on the ground level, the professor walked toward the podium with his briefcase, her elevated seat giving her the perfect view of his comb-over.

  “You’ve had a change of heart in three days?” she asked, fighting for logic. She touched the keys of her laptop with shaking hands and eyed the glowing exit sign. There was no way she would make it if he moved even a quarter of the speed of that elder. She should’ve sat near the front.

  “Okay, class, let’s get started, shall we?” Professor Banks fired up his PowerPoint presentation.

  “Sometimes it takes an awakening,” Donnie said, his gaze rooted to her face. “I want you. Go out with me.” He brought his arm up and gently slid the back of his hand down her cheek.

  Fire erupted in the wake of his touch, searing her insides. A strange haze clouded her mind.

  She shook her head, trying to clear it.

  “I have to focus,” Charity murmured.

  “Yes. Later, then.”

  Donnie settled back and swung his arm around her, letting it rest on the back of her seat. He crossed an ankle over his knee. His forgotten backpack tumbled into the space between the chair in front of him and the ground.

  Girls glanced back at them with wide eyes, some sparkling with jealousy. His friends looked back, too, snickering or confused. Donnie was claiming her in public, not concerned about PDA.

  It was like a dream come true housed in a waking nightmare.

  The haze clouding Charity’s thoughts deepened, his presence as dangerous as it was electrifying. Twisted sheets and writhing bodies invaded her thoughts. Fingers traced the exposed skin on her neck. Glorious shivers coated her body, sucking her under.

  Bing—bing.

  Charity swore under her breath.

  “How many times do I have to tell this class to turn off your cell phones,” Professor Banks said, looking right at her.

  “Sorry! I just got it.”

  Trying to clear her head over the pounding of her body, Charity pulled out her phone with trembling fingers. Donnie’s warm touch dipped to the collar of her hoodie and then traced her collarbone. God help her, she wanted his hands everywhere.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Snap out of it, Charity, she silently berated herself, trying to pull herself together. Trying to shrug off that fiery touch. The pounding of her core.

  A text from Macy swam into view. Is he there?

  Charity was way too young to be gawking at an electronic device like a hog looking at a wristwatch. “I need to silence this…”

  “I’ll do it.” Donnie’s fingers slid across hers as he took the phone, sending raging tingles through her body. He flicked a button on the side. It vibrated once. Then he analyzed the message. His thumbs flew across the screen, too fast to be human.

  Why didn’t that jog her out of this horribly delicious lust daze?

  Yes. Were gonna hang out 2nite, the text read.

  “No,” Charity whispered, reaching for her phone.

  Donnie used her lean to his advantage, dropping his mouth and catching her lower lip between his.

  The world burst into color. Her body lit up with desire.

  A distant part of her registered the prickled skin, like red ants biting. It was utterly lost to the moment.


  A moan sounded in her throat, long and low. She’d spent all those lonely nights dreaming that he’d kiss her. That he wouldn’t care about her lack of money. That he’d choose her over all his other options. And now it had come true.

  She couldn’t tear herself away. She couldn’t dislodge the feeling of worth this moment gave her. Like a dumb girl, she let him angle his head and then open her lips. His tongue flicked in playfully. The hand behind her neck tightened, pulling her in close. The other hand found her thigh. The kiss intensified, her senses lost to the feel of him, to the heady sensation of her dreams meeting reality.

  “Excuse me, you two! That is completely inappropriate!”

  Donnie backed off, his eyes hungry, his smile triumphant. He turned his head toward the professor, who was two seconds away from telling them to get out.

  “Sorry, Professor Banks,” Donnie said in his strange, musically hypnotic voice. “Please, continue.”

  The professor opened his mouth…then closed it. He smiled in a dreamy sort of way. “Yes, of course. Now, let’s speak about the indigenous people in Australia.”

  Donnie turned back to an awestruck Charity. “Take notes, babe. You hate getting behind.”

  Charity blinked. She held out her hand slowly, not totally in charge of her motor skills. “My phone, please.”

  He smiled at her and leaned down for another kiss.

  She backed away this time, flushed. “Phone. Please.”

  Her thigh felt cold when he lifted his hand. With a coy smile, he reached into his shirt pocket and extracted her phone. It buzzed as he handed it over, three messages displayed on the screen.

  I’ll meet you out front after, she sent to Macy.

  To Devon’s message of R u fucking stupid??? she replied, No. I didn’t write that message. I’m fine.

  She wasn’t fine. The daze wouldn’t go away. Desire clutched her tightly and begged her to give in. To claim what she’d always believed she wanted.

  Devon: Leave class NOW!

  “Charity, should I take notes for you?” Donnie asked, like a dream man.

  Her fingers flew over the keys, typing words she plucked out of the air without thought. Those lips settled on the hollow next to her shoulder and sucked ever so gently.

  “Oh God,” she breathed, lost to the fantasy of this moment. Drowning in pleasure.

  His hand worked up her thigh, kneading along the inside, nearing her apex. Shivers of delight racked her body. Her eyes closed and her body overheated, desire flooding her. Barely able to keep from spreading her legs, she tried desperately to get herself under control. To claw her way to the surface.

  “Don’t bite me,” she said, her voice wispy.

  “You’ll like it,” he said in her ear, his tongue flicking out to lick along the ridge. He turned her face with his finger. “I know you’ve liked me for a while,” he murmured against her lips. “This is what you’ve wanted. I’ll give you everything you’ve wanted, starting now. We’ll go to dinner.”

  Suddenly the class was on the move, standing and putting their stuff away. Her phone was vibrating again. Where the hell has the time gone?

  “I can’t,” she said in the same wispy voice. It felt like her brain had detached from her body.

  She felt his fingers between her thighs, massaging exactly where she needed it. Her legs spread of their own accord. Their kiss deepened. One hand pulled her into his body, branding her with his heat, while the other massaged in tiny circles, tweaking that little spot that made her speechless. His lips moved lower, down the side of her chin, the classroom suddenly quiet. Empty. Her body wound with tension, his ministrations having taken her to the brink. She moaned and clutched him, needing his touch like she’d never needed anything in her entire life.

  The world condensed to his fingers and his heat. Everything else disappeared.

  His lips worked down the side of her throat as he pushed her back against the chair, moving around her. Those fingers worked faster, her body responding with an animalistic intensity. His mouth moved low, over her artery.

  “Charity!”

  She heard her name through a wind tunnel. She clutched tighter to Donnie—to the beautiful creature that Donnie had become. She begged him to take her, to take what he needed from her. To claim and consume her.

  “Charity!”

  It was the fear in Devon’s voice that brought her struggling to the surface.

  Teeth scraped against her neck as she heard feet pounding up the aisle between the seats. Pressure pushed against her skin, dull and painful.

  Alarm finally registered. Those red ants felt like they were tearing her flesh. Pleasure turned into pounding fear so great that she choked from it.

  Donnie’s face ripped away from her throat. In the next second, he was standing in the aisle, claws elongating from his fingers. A terrible hiss worked around two huge fangs. His lips turned black and his perfect face turned into something inhuman.

  Charity flinched back as Devon reached them, a long knife in hand.

  Donnie surged toward the attack quickly. Devon, faster still, dodged to the side and struck. The knife plunged toward Donnie.

  “No!” Charity screamed.

  The blade rammed into Donnie’s chest, piercing his heart before he could turn away. His hiss turned into a monstrous squeal, his body writhing, his claws slashing at the air. Devon dodged around him and gripped the back of Charity’s hoodie. He yanked, impossible strength dragging her out and over the back of the chair, and threw her into the aisle behind him, shielding her body with his.

  But Donnie was done. Her illusion of him shattered. His bony, greenish face howled in misery. He clutched the handle of the knife, black sludge running over his claws. He fell into a pile onto the floor as Devon held a phone to his head.

  “Yeah, Dean? Yeah, we need a cleanup. I’ll text you the location… Thanks, bro, but it was a close one. All right.”

  Devon faced her, muscles flexing, face a mask of rage. Their gazes connected for a long moment, the fury in Devon’s eyes like hot embers. He didn’t say a word.

  He didn’t have to.

  A moment later, he was walking down the aisle, not bothering to tell her to get her crap and get moving. He didn’t have to say that, either.

  Averting her eyes from Donnie’s monstrous form, she reached over the chair and grabbed the laptop, which looked no worse for the mayhem it had witnessed. Charity wished she could say the same for herself.

  She stuffed everything in her bag, swallowed a sob at the sight of Donnie’s forgotten backpack, no longer needed, and ran to follow Devon. Her first crush after John lay desecrated and destroyed in a pile of sludge. Loss overwhelmed her, followed by desolation. She was out of her league. Although she knew next to nothing about warrior fae, she doubted one would have fallen prey to a baby vampire. A real warrior fae wouldn’t need to be saved over and over.

  She yanked her phone out of her pocket with a shaking hand. She had three missed text messages.

  Devon: Should I come?

  Macy: do you need me????

  Devon: Answer me or Im coming.

  He’d almost been too late. She did not have faith that she would’ve snapped out of it.

  She had never felt so filthy and useless in all her life. She’d also never felt more scared. Samantha was still out there, and so was that elder. How long would it be before they came for Charity?

  Would she be able to resist the next time?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  With his heart still pounding, Devon shoved the door open and took a few steps out, glancing around to make sure nothing waited for them. He stepped to the side, staring straight ahead, and held the door until Charity passed through. He couldn’t even look at her. Not without exploding into a blind rage he didn’t understand.

  A steadying breath filled his chest, the effect not relieving the constriction. Damn it, what had she been thinking? This woman had chased off an elder vamp, yet a newbie had reduced her to a puddle
of sex. It didn’t make any sense.

  And what the hell was with Devon’s reactions to the whole mess? He’d never before experienced the overwhelming fear that had choked him on the way to her classroom, not even in battle. Nor had he ever felt the likes of the blind, territorial rage that had ripped through him when he opened the door and saw that thing draped all over her…trying to claim her…

  He couldn’t…

  The sound of his teeth grinding was unnaturally loud as they stepped off the path toward the nearly deserted parking lot. Charity trudged along in front of him.

  Devon flexed his fingers against the stinging regret constricting his ribcage. He was handling this badly, he knew he was. But every time he started to calm down, the image of that vampire touching Charity seared through his head.

  “Where’s Macy?” Charity asked in a small voice as they came within sight of the SUV. Yasmine leaned gracefully against the door, a splatter of blood on her ample cleavage.

  Since Devon had to handle Charity, he’d told Macy to join Yasmine and follow the other vamp. It looked like they’d taken care of it in record time.

  “She went home after we took care of business,” Yasmine replied in a smug, sultry voice.

  The invitation in her eyes didn’t stir him tonight. The one thing that could make him feel better, or at least normal and detached, wasn’t happening. The overwhelming lust issue he’d been dealing with all week, which he’d hoped to sex away tonight, was completely overshadowed by the weird residual fear pinging manically through his body.

  Charity was safe! He’d done his duty. He’d protected her. His obligation was met for the night.

  So why the hell did he want to wrap himself around her like bubble wrap and try to soothe her hurt away?

  “Get in the car,” he barked at Yasmine.

  “Hmm, yes, alpha,” Yasmine said, clearly loving the show of power. “Your house?”

  He didn’t bother answering. Nor could he loosen his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. When they got to the house, he again shoved the door open, but this time he stared at Charity accusingly as she slithered through it, a shadow of the woman he’d met at the turning party. Broken.