“Yield!” Devon yelled, his voice infused with fire and power.
She hit the wall and fell to the ground. “You yield! I like flying.” Up a moment later, with elation singing through her blood, she crouched. Ready. She was just getting warmed up.
“I’m serious, Charity, yie—”
Charity kicked, missing. A fist sailed past her face. She blocked the next punch and ducked in, slamming her fist into his side. Then she was airborne again. She hadn’t seen that one coming!
A table rolled away as she tumbled to the ground. Why hadn’t the fall hurt more?
She got up slowly this time, noticing he didn’t advance. He was trying to throw her around to get his point across—I’m bigger, stronger, and a superior fighter. I am better than you.
“Yield,” he called, standing straight and tall at the other end of the room. “Or I will make you yield.”
She cocked her head to the side, the hum of her body so loud that she wondered if anyone else heard it. “Let’s see if you like flying, too.”
“Charity, no—”
She pushed her hands toward him. The air compressed, and electricity surged and then exploded from her. The sliding glass door shattered behind Devon and then he flew out, catching the wind like a tumbleweed. Halfway through the flying arc, he twisted and an aura of magic surrounded him. Fur erupted and his teeth grew. He landed on four feet and then shook off his tattered clothes and bits of glass.
She stared at the huge black wolf, the electricity now crackling between her fingers.
Until she glanced upward.
Shapes moved among the trees in the growing darkness, keeping to the shadows so stray light from the sunset couldn’t touch their flawless skin. Predatory eyes stared at her as she stood bare-handed in the ruined doorway. A blur of movement, more perceptible than it ever had been, had her BFF appearing among the dozens of vampires, a small smile curling his shapely lips.
“I see you have found your father’s gift, Arcana,” he called to her, his musical voice pleasing despite his creepiness. “Let us hope you are still ignorant in all the ways to use it.”
She didn’t know what that meant. She did know that Vlad wasn’t planning on waiting for Roger.
“How many vamps does it take to bring down that ward?” she asked Devon’s pack.
Devon now faced the vamps and backed up to stand directly in front of her. He let out a wicked snarl.
“Yes, the puppy has merit, I shall grant you,” Vlad said. “He might’ve made a worthy adversary one day. Alas, I must extinguish him tonight before he can grow into his mantle. Is not that the term he uses for my children? Extinguish? Such a callous word. So unfeeling.”
“They have plenty,” Rod mumbled from beside her, his hand on her arm. It was trembling.
“Anyone call Roger?” she asked quietly, not wanting the nosey parkers hovering in the shadows, continuously looking up at the sky, to hear her. For a wonder, she only felt the excitement of the coming battle. Because there would be one. If they’d come back with these numbers, Vlad had figured out a way through the ward.
“I did,” Yasmine said in a wavering voice. “He didn’t answer.”
“I sure hope you left a message.” Andy took off his shirt. “’Cause they are coming in soon, and we’re outnumbered. By a lot.”
“I’m going to light this bitch up like the Fourth of July,” Charity said with bubbling anticipation.
“I guess someone better turn off the oven,” Rod muttered. “Dinner is canceled.”
“What’s gotten into you?” Dillon asked Charity.
“Don’t know, but I feel great,” she replied. “I need some weapons, though. I’m going to do me some killing.”
Devon backed up another step and flashed Dillon a look, relaying something.
“Timmy fell down the well?” Charity said as Dillon took off down the hall.
“Have you gone insane?” Macy asked.
“They want her alive—she has nothing to worry about,” Yasmine muttered darkly.
“Oh yes, being captured, imprisoned, and sucked on against her will sure sounds like a treat.” Andy huffed as he slipped out of his sweats. “Should I change, Devon?”
He got a significant glance. It was apparently a yes.
Dillon jogged out of the house, also shirtless, holding a long, finely worked sword in a glittering scabbard. He pushed it at Charity. “This was hanging in the castle. It was a relic, but Roger said that when the time came, if it came, you’d know what to do with it. So…let’s hope the time has come.”
Charity reached for the artfully crafted blade as Vlad stepped out of the trees. The sun’s rays had dried up and ushered in nightfall. Yee-haw.
Her hand closed around the handle. It felt like shaking hands with an old friend. A sharp, shiny, dangerous old friend that stabbed people. Better and better.
“I feel like kicking some ass,” Charity said to nobody in particular.
“Shall we just let you handle it, then?” Rod started stripping down.
Vlad had spread his arms wide. A line of vamps stepped up with him along the ward.
“Oh no, we’re definitely going down if we don’t get help. There are way too many of them, and even though I feel more alive now than I ever have, I have no idea how to kill people. With magic.”
“Kill them with the sword, then.” Macy joined the boys in nakedness.
“Change, boss?” Rod asked, his eyes on Vlad.
He apparently got a no. How they could tell, Charity had no idea. Only Devon and Andy were in wolf form so far.
Vlad pulled something out of his pocket, though it was too small to see at the distance.
“He’s got magic,” Rod whispered. “A counter-spell for the ward. It must be. Let’s hope it doesn’t work.”
“With all the power he’s amassed, you shouldn’t hold your breath,” Dillon replied.
Nails grew slowly out of Vlad’s hands, nothing else about him shifting. From the awestruck looks on the faces around her, that seemed to be a pretty big deal. The ward dome sparked and more vampires joined Vlad at the periphery, some fully changing to do so. The entire dome lit up, reaching over the house, sizzling and sparking. Magic bowed then arched, a sound like crackling flames ripping along the base. Fissure cracks formed, working their way through the structure.
Devon started to growl. The hair on his back stood on end, his body tense and half crouched, ready for the attack.
“Godspeed, Charity. Give ’em hell,” Rod said.
Fur erupted beside her as the rest of the pack changed form. An ear-splitting crack, like thunder, rang through the fresh night. Fire crawled up the invisible wall, erupting into a huge fireball that curled into the sky.
Vlad and his vampires had overcome the ward.
“Kill the wolves; bring me the girl,” Vlad shouted as the vampires, far too many of them, whizzed toward the house.
Chapter Forty-One
The wolves braced for the coming fight, having made a half-circle around her. Charity tore the scabbard off the sword. A bright blue blade glimmered in the moonlight. It sang to her, asking her to play, demanding blood. Something inside her blossomed, happy to fulfill her end of that bargain.
A first wave of vampires descended, monsters all, clearly the youngest and most inexperienced. Devon lunged, grabbing the first by the neck and ripping with his strong jaws. The creature screeched, then gurgled.
One by one, the wolves around her followed suit, attacking the closest vamps, unfortunately opening a hole directly in front of her. As if she’d done this all her life, she posed with the sword. It wasn’t something she’d learned in martial arts. Her knowledge was older than that. Ingrained in her somehow.
Two mid-level vamps slowed as they neared the group, eyeing the sword like it was a beast of its own. The one on the right put on another burst of speed. Charity pivoted and then swung the sword. The blade sliced through the neck of her attacker like a knife through cream. The head rolled away a
nd the body fell to the ground.
The other was upon her immediately.
She turned, ready to slash. A streak of black stayed her strike.
Devon rushed in and jumped. He tore a lump out of the throat and then carried the wounded creature to the ground so he could finish his work. Another vampire was already coming, though. And two more to follow.
Charity ran forward, needing more space. A vampire came at her from the left and one from the right, their hands out and their claws extended. Fangs hung from their black gums.
Charity stabbed the first, hitting the heart perfectly, like there had been a target directing her home. The one on the left reached for her, but she dodged and then curled her fingers around its swampy, bony wrist, yanked, spun, and let go. It flew toward Andy.
She pumped a burst of power in that direction. Energy exploded. Two vamps went flying, clearing the way for Andy to grab the vampire that smacked onto the ground and rolled. He pounced on it immediately, ripping through its chest to get to its heart.
A vampire charged her, its fangs flashing. She pivoted and backed down, slicing off its reaching hands. Another came at her from behind. She turned, swung, turned back, and stabbed, dropping the vamp before dancing left to a clear patch of ground. The dance was so easy somehow. So rewarding.
Her blade gouged another vamp, missing its heart. Charity ripped to the side, fixing her mistake. It howled, squirming as it died, creating a temporary blockage for the creature behind it. Charity used the opening she’d created to shove a vamp away from the red-splotched white wolf. Hopefully that wasn’t Yasmine’s blood.
A fierce growl was followed by a yelp. Fear zipped through Charity’s battle high. She slashed the creature in her way so she could see. A gray wolf lay on its side as a vamp descended.
Before Charity could react, Devon was there, ripping the creature away.
A claw raked her arm. Charity spun and punched, the creature too close for her to maneuver the sword. Her magic exploded on impact. The creature’s head sailed ten feet further than its body.
She hacked through another’s middle. The vampires were attacking more fiercely now—no longer trying to simply catch her, but trying to maim her to make the extraction easier.
Bring it.
Electricity sizzled down her blue blade, almost like the thing was a conductor for her magic. The vampire’s guts sizzled as the sword slid deeper into its gut, the creature howling as it staggered backward.
Gracefully dancing to the next vampire, she swung her blade, swiping off a leg, then an arm. She pushed out with her palm, scattering the few creatures clustered in front of her, but the older ones were pushing in on her. The faster vampires with more experience and battle savvy were surrounding her, trying to get at her back. She couldn’t turn fast enough, or deliver potent enough cuts with her sword. Combat came naturally to her, but she still was far from experienced.
The beginning of the end.
Charity raised her hand in the air to attempt sunlight. Maybe it would give her and the pack the chance to run. If they made it to the cars, they’d have a chance.
Focusing on her middle, she felt magic surge around her, followed by an earth-shattering roar that shook her bones. Other, smaller roars chorused, followed by the shrieking of a vampire and what sounded like a loud bellow.
Backup had arrived.
Charity shoved her palm forward, exploding the vampires in front of her out of the way. Then froze.
She stared into the gleaming red eyes of some sort of gray-skinned humanoid ram. Two hoofed legs ended in an exposed manhood and the bare torso and arms of a man. Black horns curled out from a bald head. The mouth was too big, filled with fangs, and the creature stood at least eight feet tall. It did not carry a weapon, which made her somewhat nervous. The only time a fighter didn’t need a weapon was if he was a weapon himself.
“Not good…” Charity muttered, gripping her sword’s hilt with both hands.
The creature stepped toward her, its eyes pulsing red, its mouth twisted. “Come with me, fae,” it rasped.
“So not good…” She back-pedaled.
It came at her. Its big arm swung out, leaving wisps of fire left in its wake. She sliced through its skin, and a gash opened. Slugs and crawlers wriggled out, like she’d lifted a log in a shady part of the woods.
A demon. It had to be.
She screamed—she couldn’t help it—and slashed. Another gash opened. Horrible insects squirmed along its skin. Real or an illusion, she couldn’t tell, but her skin crawled. The thing grabbed for her. Its claws caught on her sleeve and pulled.
She’d never gotten out of a hoodie so fast in her life.
Dancing back, she swung her sword and then jabbed, sticking it into the stomach. More insects. Its face didn’t so much as tweak in discomfort. She lifted her sword for another strike as a huge tan shape streaked through the air.
A lioness landed on the creepy thing’s shoulders, hanging on to it with strong paws. Another lioness lunged, ripping into insect-frenzied lateral muscles. Gray wolves of all sizes cut between Charity and the demon, swarming her and forcing her back toward the house.
“No! I am not leaving Devon and his pack,” she cried.
One wolf, the biggest, looked up. Intelligent human eyes, one blue, one green, met hers. Roger had come.
He snarled, and the line of wolves advanced on her, continuing to back her up. Trying to usher her to safety.
Futile effort. Team members didn’t leave one another behind. Devon and his pack had sacrificed themselves for her, and now she would do the same for them. Maybe she hadn’t been with them long, but they’d accepted her as one of their own. They were the only family she had left, and she would protect them with everything in her.
She shoved a palm out and felt lava surge up within her. Electricity crackled through the air before the concussion. Furry bodies fell backward and kept going, rolling across the hard ground like rocks.
She ran, jumped off the deck, and slashed into a vampire. An arm went flying. She slapped her hand on another vamp’s body and exploded it, guts flying everywhere. Whirling, she struck through a chest and got lucky enough to hit the heart. The being convulsed and howled.
The new wolves crowded around her again, this time not trying to force her anywhere. They’d clearly learned their lessons and were now just trying to help.
A teeth-chattering roar announced the arrival of a huge white bear—no, not a bear. Bears didn’t have two horns curling from the sides of their heads.
Charity had to pause in bewilderment for a second.
A yeti!
It lumbered in front of her, its chest broader and arms longer than that of a bear. This animal was meant to walk upright, with incredible strength in its upper body. One swipe of its large, claw-tipped hand sent a vampire flying. The yeti crunched another vamp’s shoulder with its sharp teeth, and when it shook its shaggy head, the vampire flew apart like an old chew toy.
A chorus of wolves’ snarling filled the yard. Roger had brought enough troops to even the playing field.
Charity jogged over a pile of festering insects and then barely ducked in time to miss a limb of fire rocketing at her head. Its spiky-headed owner howled before swinging the arm at her again. Flames licked the creature’s body and crawled up its twisted and hideous face. The wolves danced around it, probably nervous their fur would catch fire if they attacked.
“Conundrum,” Charity said, wondering the same thing about her hair. “I hope I don’t end up looking stupid.”
She ran at it, getting inside that arm, before thrusting her sword into its middle. Fire surged around her, kissing her skin. Pain blossomed, and she pumped her magic higher, electrifying the air.
Her magic could fight his demon fire.
She ripped the blade out of its middle and thrust again, and again, hacking like a wild thing and feeling the song of her blade as she did so.
A wolf barreled into the side of the fiery demon. He or she
then yelped and rolled away, fur singed and smoking.
She stepped back, spun to get momentum, and sliced with everything she had. Her blade cut through its neck, nearly sticking on bone halfway through. Her magic crackled around her, fighting the creature’s attempt to summon more fire.
The head fell off, but Charity didn’t wait to appraise her handiwork.
Panting, getting tired, she looked up at the frenzy of fur and filth in front of her. The battle was alive with teeth and claws. And then, like magic, a path opened up diagonally. Her gaze was sucked in that direction. Her stomach dropped out.
At the edge of the battle stood Vlad, staring at her, clearly waiting for her to notice. With the forces Roger had brought, he knew he couldn’t make the grab. How could he not?
He gave her a grin, like a promise, and then pointedly looked down at his feet.
A warthog ran past in a blur. Once the way was clear, a sob of horror caught in Charity’s throat.
On its side, trying in vain to get up, lay a large black wolf.
“Oh no,” she breathed.
Liquid glistened in Devon’s fur, and judging by his weak attempts to get to his feet, it was his blood.
“Take me!” she screamed, staggering forward. “Leave him and take me.”
Roger growled and stepped in her way. More of his shifters joined him, cutting her off. She’d not only have to fight the vamps and demons to cross the divide, she’d have to fight her allies, too. To them, she was more valuable than Devon. They’d let him die to save her. She would never get there in time.
As if hearing her thoughts, Vlad smiled and gave her a “naughty, naughty” finger. He was blaming her for so many of his vampires dying, for not coming quietly like he’d wanted. For not giving in days ago.
Claws erupted from his fingers, and he swiped down toward Devon.
Time slowed. Each heartbeat lasted ten minutes. Fear such as she had never known stole her breath. And she erupted.
Sunlight lit up the sky, so bright that even the wolves cringed, but that wicked claw kept going, Vlad undeterred by his smoking skin.
Warrior Fae Trapped: A DDVN Book Page 28