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Warrior Fae Princess (Warrior Fae 2)

Page 95

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“They’re just up the road. A whole group of them! She brought a whole entourage out of the Flush. She came for Devon, just like you said she would.”

Roger kept his composure. He’d hoped she would. It was anything but certain.

When Devon had stopped by, not two full days ago, with the news that he’d left Charity behind, per his own judgment and Karen’s instructions, Roger had wanted to wring the younger alpha’s neck. Devon was hurting; any fool could see that. He felt the loss acutely, something Charity would’ve responded to. Except Devon hadn’t explained himself to Charity. He’d left in the middle of the night, without a word.

If Roger hadn’t had years to hone his self-control in hostile situations, if he hadn’t trusted Karen’s Sight implicitly, things might’ve escalated. As it was, he lamented Dillon’s passing, listened to a brief account of their journey, and had to prevent a very strange red-haired woman from scaling the side of the castle walls just to see if she could reach the top.

Instead of Charity, Devon had brought back a fae lunatic.

“So the rumors were true,” Roger said quietly, staring down at the papers on his desk without seeing them. “You’re sure it’s them?”

“Yes, alpha,” Beazie said, cleaning her hands on her white apron. “They walk like…phantoms. Deadly phantoms. They are what I’ve heard they are, and Charity is at the head with a very handsome man.”

“Thank you, Beazie. Let me know if they stop in—”

Alder appeared in the doorway, his face grim but eyes excited. He nodded, a subtle movement.

Charity had brought the fae.

“She’s asked to meet you in the courtyard,” Alder said without preamble. Beazie filed out of the way. “The Second Arcana is with her, along with a man that…I wouldn’t turn my back on for all the world.”

“Yes, thank you, Alder.” Roger stood, feeling excited for the first time in a long time. Something big was underway. There had been more vampire activity than normal in recent weeks. More turnings. An elder was at work, and not one he knew—Roger had come to recognize Vlad’s smug predilection for flouting the law right under the shifters’ noses, Darius’s ability to mask his illegal enterprises with the appearance of legitimacy. This was someone different, and he or she was a master—suave and quick, striking quickly and without warning. The new power player dabbled in sacrifices, too. Ritual sacrifices that screamed demonic, with circles and symbols and other things Roger didn’t understand. He wondered if this vampire was perhaps the one who had hoodwinked Vlad and delayed Charity’s journey to the Flush.

Roger needed some backup, and he really didn’t want to rely on a bounty hunter, since Reagan was the only one who could probably do the job, and she was in league with a vampire herself.

He headed out of the castle with Alder on his heels. The crew stood to one side of the castle, with Charity standing in front with a man who shared her likeness but who didn’t look old enough to be her father. The rest didn’t fan out behind them so much as stand loosely clustered, with one person protected in the middle.

No. Not protected. That was for show. Somewhat hidden and incredibly lethal. This was the person Alder didn’t want to turn his back on.

Emery and Penny stood off to the side, their expressions fatigued and postures anxious. They wanted to get home.

“Charity, great to see you again,” Roger said, and he meant every word.

Her magic flowered around him, calling to his wolf. He could’ve sworn he heard battle drums in the breeze.

“Hi,” she said, and sheepishly glanced at the man next to her. “Roger, this is the Second Arcana of the custodes, out of the Flush. D-Dad, this is Roger, the alpha of the North American pack. He’s the head alpha, over Devon, which is more like—”

“I can see the distinction perfectly,” the Second cut in gracefully, a small tick of his head and a slight lean in his body indicating he recognized Roger as an equal.

Roger held in his surprise at the ease with which he understood the unspoken language. It seemed these fae communicated similarly to shifters. That would make working with them even easier than he’d imagined.

He just had to get them working together.

“You can?” Charity asked, confused.

“You may call me Romulus,” the Second said.

“He can?” Charity said, now more confused.

“Welcome, Romulus. Would you care to come in for a drink?” Roger shifted his stance just slightly, speaking through his body as the fae was doing.

“How gracious, Alpha. Thank you for the invitation.” Romulus made the title seem loftier, somehow.

“Please, call me Roger.”

Romulus bowed. “I would love to take you up on that offer another time. For the moment, I think Charity is anxious to get back to her Alpha Shifter.”



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