Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae 1)

“I know.”

Yes, she did. Probably better than he.

He nodded and put his shoulder to the door. It was the first time he might have to confront one of these creatures without fur.

“Keep your wits,” he whispered. “We need to stick together. We need to have each other’s backs.”

“Like a pack.”

Dillon was right—give her the rules, and get out of the way. This all might be new to her, but she had street smarts in spades. “Exactly. Like a pack.”

He took a deep, steadying breath. He needed to trust her like he would his pack mates, but it was hard, given everything she didn’t know about her own magic.

“If anyone’s here, I’m banking on it just being Samantha,” he said, grabbing the handle. “New vamps are solitary beings. They’re hunters. Only when their appetite is sated will they fall back into their previous lives as humans. They’ll remember schedules and clutch on to their failing humanity. For a while, anyway. Until that erodes away.”

“I know what you and the others think, but Samantha isn’t one of these creatures,” Charity murmured, defiance in her voice. “She made it out. She did. She would’ve seen through it—she’s smarter than people give her credit for.”

Devon stayed silent, letting her keep that fantasy for a while longer.

He peered into the gloom without crossing the threshold. The vampire stench thickened. He could only pick out one signature, though, and it lacked the subtle aroma of lingering decay, something common with the older ones.

A young vamp had blown through. It had probably come here to escape the mayhem at the party. It hadn’t known to seek refuge in the Realm, so it had gone home. But it was starving. It would have had to leave to find food.

Unless…

Had the vamp come for solace, or dinner?

He turned slowly to glance down at Charity’s fearful yet determined features. She knew the truth—he could see it in those velvet-brown eyes—she just didn’t want to believe it. Samantha probably pissed on her constantly, but Charity thought of her as a friend. She was preparing herself to see a friend die.

Devon’s stomach twisted in sympathy.

“I don’t think anything’s in here,” he said softly.

Charity met his eyes, a plea not far from the surface.

“I’ll still go in with you, just in case,” he continued after a pause.

“A vampire has been in here, hasn’t it?” Charity asked. Her chin raised a fraction, but the action didn’t hide the worry in her eyes.

He nodded slowly, staying connected with her gaze. Trying to keep her rooted.

“And a different one wouldn’t have come here unless it was looking for me,” she said.

“Correct. But only an older one would be looking for you. An older one hasn’t come through here.”

Her face fell. She lowered her chin.

He turned back to the door and glanced at the threshold. He was about to find out if he was wrong.

He stepped through the door.

All that awaited him was silence and the stale air of a closed-up house. He reached back for Charity and felt her palm connect with his. It was extremely unlikely that a demon would creep up behind them and rip Charity away, but weirder things had happened. He wanted to make sure she stayed with him.

Pop.

A thrill ran through his body. He looked to the right, waiting. Four smaller pops followed before silence regained its dominance.

“The house makes sounds all the time,” Charity whispered, pushing her side up against his backside. She must’ve been watching their six. She might’ve been a novice to magic, but thank God she wasn’t a novice to danger. “It’s old. Solid, but it shifts, I guess. Settles.”

Devon took another step into the stuffy space. Charity stepped with him, their movements perfectly in sync.

“Done some burglary?” he asked despite himself, his lips lifting in a grin. Only those up to mischief could move like this. He should know.

“Where I grew up, there was nothing to steal except drugs, and that would get someone dead real quick.” She paused as they stepped again. “The bedrooms are at the back.”

They walked with unneeded stealth through an entryway that opened up into a modest living room with brand-new furniture. A side hallway led back to a kitchen.

“This place seems small for someone like Samantha,” Devon said quietly, not wanting to disturb the static of the house. “You still watching our six?”

“Yeah. We’re clear. Her parents were trying to teach her humility.”

Devon snorted as they reached the kitchen and kept edging down the hallway. Two rooms branched off, one large, a master suite, and a smallish bedroom. As expected, Charity walked past him into the smaller room. Once inside, she snatched a duffel bag from the back of her closet and dropped it in front of a particle-board dresser.

Devon stepped into Samantha’s room. A whirlwind of clothes and jewelry littered the various surfaces, representing thousands of dollars’ worth of fashion. A whiff of vamp lingered in the stagnant air. In contrast, the moment he stepped into Charity’s sparse, orderly room, he received a punch of vamp smell.