Warrior Fae Princess

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Warrior Fae Princess Page 8

by Breene, K. F.

“And yes,” Reagan said. “Right now, actually. Emery knows how to fool the elves—so much so that he was kicked out of the Realm for it—and Penny knows how to make anything Emery does better. You’ll be good to go.”

  “Roger knows about this?” Devon asked Reagan, turning in his seat to look at her. He was suspicious. As well he should be. This was a ludicrously half-baked plan. Steve thought about sitting up straighter to be a part of the discussion. Instead, he just looked on from his slouched position.

  “Yes.” Her tone was flat and eyes serious. “Roger gave Darius a list of Charity’s symptoms. Darius, being an incredible nerd when it comes to trivia, did some calculations. He doesn’t think we should risk taking a longer route. He thinks the shorter the better. And then he clammed up, because he decided his involvement was getting dangerously close to stepping on Vlad’s toes. He’s freaked out Vlad will…return the favor. Regardless, one thing is very clear—if we want Charity to live, we need to get through this portal, and we need to get through it now.”

  “I felt okay this last time, though,” Charity said, her voice weak. “I was in control. Except for the hallucination before the battle started.”

  Reagan laughed as Devon whipped around to study Charity.

  “Fantastic,” Reagan said. “I always manage to find magical nut jobs.” She wasn’t being sarcastic—she was the queen of magical nut jobs. “You look like shit, though. I don’t know crap about your magic, but I know magical poisoning when I see it. You need to get to your people.”

  “If they even are my people,” Charity muttered.

  “Okay, here we go,” Reagan said as the linebacker slowed the van. She pushed into the empty space between Devon and the door. “Given how fast the vampires split when I came on scene at that fleabag hotel, we’ll either face a shitload of them right now or none at all.”

  “Is that because you’re…with a vampire who has a deal with Vlad?” Charity asked, her suspicion obvious. Steve chuckled again; he couldn’t help it. This situation was such a clusterfuck that it was comical.

  The linebacker had stopped in nearly the place they’d parked before, well away from the portal site, hidden behind a line of trees beside the road.

  “The creatures at that hotel weren’t Vlad’s,” Reagan said, and the smile wilted from Steve’s face.

  Chapter Eleven

  Devon watched Reagan’s face for signs of lying. Her bonded partner was a vampire—an elder to boot—and everyone knew not to trust vampires.

  “What do you mean they weren’t his?” Charity asked.

  “I recognized one of them as Vlad’s,” Devon said.

  “Yeah. So did I. I’m wondering if he knows he’s got a traitor on his hands.” Reagan chewed her lip. “Regardless, the rest were not. I know his upper-tier minions, and those weren’t them. He doesn’t trust easily, especially not with something as valuable as Charity.”

  “If the rest weren’t his, whose were they?” Devon asked, motioning for her to get out of the van.

  Reagan complied quickly and gracefully, waiting for him to climb out after her before continuing in a whisper.

  “I knew all but two, and they all belong to different vampires. This was a team of spies, basically.” Reagan’s eyes narrowed, and she stared off at nothing, obviously thinking through the implications.

  “Spies…” Charity lost her balance as she got out of the van, falling against Devon. He threaded an arm around her back, taking her weight so she could stand. Her body trembled against him. Devon didn’t completely trust Reagan, but she was definitely right about Charity—they didn’t have much time left.

  “If someone has spies in the vampire community, they have spies with us,” Devon said. Of course, they knew that already. The portal had been compromised.

  “Yup.” Reagan made her way down the small, grassy ditch and climbed the other side. Devon swung Charity up into his arms and followed her. The rest of Devon’s pack hurried to get out of the vans and fall in behind them. “I could hazard a guess of who it is, but that’s all it would be. A guess. And guesses won’t do you a helluva lot of good.”

  “Is this another play for Charity, do you think?” Devon asked, stopping beside a reaching branch and looking at the scene across the way in the field. The moonlight shone down on the stationary creatures. Flame flickered here and there, crawling across their bodies.

  “I have no idea, and that’s the honest truth. If it was just a bunch of vampires, sure, maybe. But the demons? No. Somehow…it feels like they’re a message. Their presence here kept you from walking smack into the elf on the other side. In a messed-up way, their presence saved you. It also brought me here. It’s possible the person who sent them did it to help you, and challenge…someone.”

  “Challenge who?” Devon asked.

  Reagan turned to him, her eyes lost to the shadow, but her focus no less acute. “Me.”

  “Why is a message for you mixed up with us?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question. One Darius will have to sort out. For now, let’s get that fae through that portal, shall we?”

  “What’s the plan, boss?” Steve asked, stopping beside them.

  Devon looked at Reagan. He might be alpha of this pack, but she was clearly running the show. Even Roger had stepped out of the way when she’d come barreling into the battle outside of his house. She had some kind of magic that trumped everyone in this field, not to mention the experience to complement it—he needed to allow her to choose the best approach.

  She nodded at Devon, a show that she recognized his status. She might not like dealing with Roger, but she’d learned how to cooperate with an alpha. And she was extending that same courtesy to him.

  “There’s a real strong demon milling around in that field, and a whole bunch of magic blocking their ugly mugs from non-magical view. I’ve never seen that spell before, but it’s as ancient as the spells used to call those demons. A few wicked spells have been layered in that would’ve blasted your faces off if you’d run in by yourselves.” Reagan shifted her stance, popping out a leather-clad hip supporting a scratched and beat-up leather fanny pack. “Yeah, someone was extending me an invite. Someone who knows I will eventually tell Penny and Emery that one of their best—whoever that might be—is working for one bad mammajamma. But in the meantime, I’ll capture that demon, break it down, and steal all its secrets. The rest I will turn inside out and make them rue the day they wandered into my home.”

  “She is not right in the head, alpha,” Cole said, and everyone startled from the shotgun blast of sound. Three demons across the field moved, their bodies turning toward the pack.

  “Quiet, snow-tits, or I’ll slap you around a second time,” Reagan murmured. She clapped and started forward. “Let’s do this. I’ll need a few of you to change and take down the lesser demons. I’m going to have my hands full with the more powerful one.”

  “What about the spells?” Devon asked, shooting the shifters who needed to change a quick look. Barbara, Macy, Yasmine, Dale, and Rod dropped whatever they were carrying and shifted on the spot.

  Cole grunted, clearly not happy about being left out, but didn’t protest. Devon wasn’t sure if that was because of him or Reagan. Dillon winced as he grabbed a duffel, as did Steve when he grabbed another.

  “The spells are nothing. I’ll take those down,” Reagan said, walking fast.

  “I can fight,” Charity said, struggling in Devon’s arms. “I’m okay. I’ll rally.”

  What Reagan had said ripped through Devon’s mind.

  Magical poisoning.

  “No,” Devon said, a little too forcefully. He didn’t know much about magical poisoning, although he’d heard the words before. Didn’t matter. One simply needed to look at Charity’s face to know Reagan was absolutely right. Charity looked terrible. Worse than she ever had after a bad episode, almost like she was in the last stages of cancer. “We don’t need you.” Harsh words he softened by squeezing her in his arms.

  A few
poignant looks and his wolves fell in step, flanking him and Charity. Steve and Cole took the back, ready to change at a moment’s notice. They had a good unit. A strong unit.

  But as they got closer to the waiting demons, Devon’s heart started to pound. He didn’t know squat about demons, but he knew these creatures were much more powerful than the ones in the parking lot. Their fire flared brighter, they were larger in stature, and their movements were more fluid and natural.

  “You sure you got this?” Devon asked, Charity’s weight in his arms like a warning. Without shifting, he couldn’t protect her from those things. Hell, he couldn’t even fight them in human form with her cradled in his arms. Neither could he put her down. She could barely hold her head up, let alone hurry through a portal crossing. He’d need his pack to carry them through.

  “One more shifter,” Reagan said without hesitation, her head high and her sword out. “The yeti. He’s an ornery bastard. He’s perfect for the job.”

  Cole grunted, but again he didn’t protest. The bag he carried hit the ground. A roar rumbled through the field a moment later.

  “Jesus, man, do you need to wake the neighbors?” Reagan murmured, jogging at the enemy now.

  Another thought struck Devon. “Is she going to make the crossing like this?”

  “I’m okay,” Charity said, her head lolling on Devon’s shoulder. “Anyone have a Red Bull?”

  “She’s a fighter,” Dillon said, worry tracing his words. “She’ll make it.”

  “She will,” Andy said, shouldering most of the luggage. “She’ll make it.”

  “Seriously, you guys, I’m fine. Just tired.” One of Charity’s arms slid off Devon’s shoulder. “Slippery when wet.” She sighed and dragged it back up.

  “She just needs a nap,” Andy said. “Like earlier. She got a nap and was ready for another battle.”

  She hadn’t been ready—she’d had no choice. Hence the frightening new development of her hallucinations.

  “You can sleep on the other side,” Reagan said, and a pulse of power rocked through Devon’s middle.

  He staggered, not expecting it, although he’d felt her power before. She was going in hot, using everything she had.

  “You’re going to make it, love,” Devon said in Charity’s ear, increasing his pace to match Reagan’s. “No one is going to stop you. Not me, not Roger, and certainly not some meddling vampire. We’ll find your people, get you well, then find your mom.”

  Her arms squeezed a little tighter. “I love you.”

  “Here we go.” Reagan slashed with her sword, barely slowing to do so. Fire crawled through the air to either side of her sword strike, burning away an invisible wall. She flung her left hand out and something like dry ice rolled across the ground, fizzling and sparking as it did so. “As always, you didn’t see any of this.”

  “Any of what?” Charity asked, straining to lift her head and look.

  “The fireworks, babe,” Steve said from behind them, laughter trailing the words. “Reagan has the best fireworks. I’m good to change, boss, if you need me.” The thrill of battle rang in his voice. “I don’t need clothes on the journey. I’m more impressive without.”

  “Your ego is a wonder,” Andy said, “but you’re carrying my bag. I want clothes. Keep hold of that thing.”

  Devon cocooned himself and Charity within his pack as they kept pace with Reagan. “Hold, Steve. Stay on two feet for now.”

  As the demons watched their approach, they spread out into three short horizontal lines.

  “Organized,” Reagan said, as though to herself.

  “Someone’s watching us,” Charity murmured, before coughing. She pointed to the left. “I feel someone watching us.”

  “I agree with her.” Reagan glanced in the direction of Charity’s finger, even though she couldn’t possibly have seen it.

  Devon scanned the tree line as they neared the demons, the creatures not even fidgeting with anticipation.

  “Great control,” Reagan said. “What’s to the left?”

  Shadows loomed within the trees, thick and syrupy. He looked for an odd shape. Movement in the branches caused by something other than wind. Nothing stuck out. But then, if it were a vampire, nothing would. They could give a stone a run for its money on patience and stillness. He said as much.

  Reagan just grunted.

  “Shifters, fan out,” she said a moment later. “Hit them from the sides and work in behind them. I’ll take the middle. Man, I wish Penny were here. I’d make her go in first.”

  Yasmine slammed into the first demon, ripping and tearing through it, its blood spattering her white coat. Reagan hit dead center, as promised, her sword flashing faster than Devon’s eye could track. She sliced through one’s middle before moving on to the next, a wound that shouldn’t have had much effect. Yet the demon howled, garbling words that Devon couldn’t understand as it shook and spasmed, falling to the ground.

  Rather than launch into another demon, Yasmine fell back to make sure his flank was covered. Macy, to her other side, took up the pursuit immediately, tearing into the one Yasmine would’ve gone for. The two women often had their problems, but in battle, they were a strong unit.

  “We’re good from behind,” Steve called up. “Much as I hate to admit it.”

  Flame blossomed into the sky, like an explosion. The fire spread across the ground, crawling toward the pack. Charity stirred against Devon, her eyes wide as she looked ahead of them. Reagan swore before plunging her sword into the center of the demon that was the source of the fire.

  “My bad,” Reagan called. The flames died. “Didn’t see that one coming. Nearly got my eyebrows, the bastard.”

  The portal loomed just ahead, a shimmering, glowing white line visible only to those with the magic to see it. Power throbbed from around it, pulling at Devon’s energy.

  Charity’s arms jerked tighter around Devon’s neck, her eyes rooted to that line. Her body trembled, and Devon wondered if she was losing her nerve. She had to recognize how weak she was—how low on energy—and wonder if she’d make it. A person needed power to make it through the portal, and plenty of it, but that wasn’t the only requirement. There was a certain mental component to it. A strong mind could overcome a weak body.

  “You were unconscious the first time we brought you through,” Devon said, latching on to facts. “You’d worn yourself out by using your magic for the first time, but you still made it through.”

  A sob bubbled up. “Devon, I was lying before. I’m not fine. It feels like something is…draining me. I can’t explain it. I was good for that last battle. I felt in control and powerful. But then the adrenaline died away, and when it was gone, it was like…it just kept sucking energy from me. I keep getting weaker, and I feel like I can barely lift my head.”

  “I know,” he said, dodging a reaching, fiery limb. The body kept coming, though, right for them.

  Steve pushed forward, into harm’s way. He swung the pack in his hand, hitting the demon across the face, before ripping into the demon’s chest with a bare hand. He growled out a curse but didn’t relent, dragging his hand through burned, gooey flesh.

  An enormous clawed mitt batted the demon’s head, ripping it off in a fast, hard strike. Cole flung the body aside with a ferocious growl before turning back to the fray.

  “Little late on that one, mate,” Steve said with annoyance. He fell back a little.

  “In the past, you’ve always been able to sleep it off,” Devon said into Charity’s ear. A disembodied demon arm flew overhead. A jet of cold washed up over Devon’s face, nearly punching him. He shook his head, confused, but the feeling cleared. Reagan, probably. He’d learned that all unexplained magic generally originated from her. “You just need that nap, like Andy said. We’ll get through, and then you can rest for a second.”

  “What’s magical poisoning?” she asked in a tiny voice.

  Devon gritted his teeth and squeezed her closer. “It’s so rare that I don’t even
know. You don’t have that. You just need sleep.”

  She blew out a breath and burrowed her face into his neck.

  “You’re a terrible liar,” she said.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Let’s go, let’s go!” Devon kicked a falling demon out of his way. Another came out of nowhere, stepping on its comrade to roar fire at Devon’s face. He spun so his back would take the hit, but he needn’t have bothered. Dale rammed into the creature from the side and knocked it away. The fire blasting from its maw did nothing more than splash heat across Devon’s shoulder.

  “Order them back,” Reagan yelled, her voice rising above the din. Rod jumped, grabbing a smaller demon around the neck and ripping its head from side to side before he’d even hit the ground. The demon didn’t have a chance with the weight and strength tearing at it. “Order them back!”

  A strange, wet sort of cackle filled the air. “Order who back?”

  The raspy voice belonged to a demon standing in front of the portal, massive and grotesque, its burned limbs covered in sores oozing pus or slime.

  Cole finished with a demon and roared his victory. Macy and Yasmine ended one together before falling in beside Devon. The field slowed of activity. Reagan stood in front of the last demon standing.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” she said, acid dripping from her voice. She cocked her head. “You know I’m being ironic, right? You’re one of the ugliest I’ve seen to date, and that’s saying something.”

  “What?” The demon cocked its head to match her.

  “Get it out of the way. We need to get through,” Devon commanded.

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” Charity said. Reagan glanced back, her brow lowered, and determination flared in her eyes that Devon felt down to his core. He didn’t know why she would have a vested interest in helping them—maybe she was just the sort of person who devoted herself to whatever cause she’d chosen—but whatever her motivation, he was grateful she was on their team.

  “My body aches,” Charity said. “Well, hurts more than aches. It feels like dull razor blades are slicing through my middle. I’m not sure I’ll make it.”

 

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