Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae 1)

Charity shifted as something heavy and ugly settled in her stomach. She knew whom he was talking about. They were plotting how to kill people Charity knew. She wasn’t sure she was up for this.

“I need suggestions on finding the rest.” Devon looked around with a quirked eyebrow.

“Isn’t that Donnie guy in a couple of your classes?” Andy asked Charity.

She clasped her shaking hands. “Yes.”

“Day or night classes?” Rod asked as he leaned forward.

“One class, two evenings a week.” Charity yanked on her ponytail for movement of some kind.

“What time?” Dillon asked.

“Eight thirty to ten, Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Tuesday and Thursday?” Devon wrote a note. “Who is free at that time?”

Rod and Macy raised their hands.

“I guess I am, too.” Yasmine laughed, a surprisingly high-pitched sound.

“All right, Charity, you’ll go to the Tuesday class like normal.” Devon pointed at Macy with the end of his pen. “You’ll hang around outside. Call if anything strange comes up. We obviously can’t take it out in a public place, so we need to follow it. Find its home base.”

“Why would it go to class?” Charity asked.

Devon finished writing something and then settled back. “When a person first changes, they’re in chaos. A lot of their human traits still remain, but now they have these other needs and wants. The urge to bite necks and take blood can really shock a person. The creators usually shepherd the young vampires through this phase, but because of how this turning party ended”—Devon glanced at Charity—“these newbies will be in chaos. We are trying to get to them before any older vampires step in to guide them. If we get lucky, some of the newbies might fall back into their old routines to bring order to the chaos.”

Charity sank deeper into her chair. She noticed Devon’s look of sympathy. It helped a little.

“What’s my task?” Yasmine said in a loud, clear voice.

Devon shifted his attention. “You’ll shadow me. I have a class around the same time as one of the other newbies. You’ll post up nearby to keep watch. I’ll meet you afterward, and we’ll tail that one. Rod, you’ll head to…”

“My house,” Charity said quietly. “Samantha was there after the party. She was hungry—famished, actually. She plans to track me down. She sees me as easy prey, and if what you say is true, she doesn’t have to try to quell the hunger. No one’ll miss me.”

“We’ll miss you,” Andy said. She expected a grin or a sarcastic smile. Instead, his expression was serious, almost imploring.

She bit her lip and picked at her nail. It wasn’t much, but it helped.

Devon stood abruptly. “How did you know that? Any of that?”

Charity started and blinked to clear away the sudden heat prickling her eyes. “I felt it,” she blurted, remembering the strange, crawling feeling that had settled over her skin. She’d almost been able to pick out the path Sam had chosen through the house. In the moment, it hadn’t occurred to her that that was strange. “I could tell a vampire had been there. I also noticed that your body language went from savage to pitying as soon as you got outside my bedroom and had a big sniff. As for tracking me down…” Charity shrugged, dropping her hands to her lap. “That’s just logic, right? I’ve got nobody.”

“Had nobody,” Devon said firmly.

“I’m sorry, what is it you do? I haven’t smelled magic like yours before,” Yasmine said in a light voice.

Macy gave Yasmine a look of death. Andy noticed, and his seriousness melted away, replaced by a huge grin. Charity had no idea why.

She shrugged again. “You can talk to Devon about that. I’m still not sure I wholly believe it.”

“All right, well…we’ll table that for now,” Devon said, still staring at Charity. “We need to plan for tonight. We’ve got a novice and a new wolf. Anything could go wrong.”

“And probably will,” Charity mumbled. Something told her she’d made a huge mistake.Chapter NineteenThe tires on Devon’s Range Rover crunched to a stop at the corner of a long, wide driveway. Up ahead, light spilled from every window in the large house, illuminating the porch and rooftop. College kids lingered in clusters, holding beers or cups, jeering and laughing. Occasional screams of mirth pierced the night.

By the look of it, this party had been in full swing for a while, most of the attendees half lit and pushing harder for oblivion. The sweet smell of weed mixed with the sting of tobacco, masking other, more important, scents. Devon would take it; drunk and high was better than suspicious and nosey. These kids wouldn’t care what happened in their midst, as long as their indiscretions didn’t go public.

They’d taken three cars, and once they’d all parked, he gathered the crew near the trees in a loose circle. The distance they were from the house should ensure none of the partygoers could see them, but if someone drove up or left, at least the crew could quickly find cover. They each held a red plastic cup in case someone wandered past. The interior lights from the cars showered everyone’s faces, all confident and ready, except one.