Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae 1)

Why was he so pissed off?

“Hi, Andy,” Yasmine said as they entered the living room. Pizza boxes already covered the coffee table.

“What happened?” Andy asked as Charity curled up into the recliner. “Are you okay?”

Her hair covered her downturned face and she picked at the fraying end of her sleeve. She didn’t answer, but then, she didn’t have to. It was clear that she was very much not okay. Tonight had thrown her for a loop in a way nothing else so far had. Given her recent past, that was really saying something.

Devon’s insides churned. He stalked out of the room and punched the wall on the way to the kitchen, desperate to mask his uncomfortable feelings. Reaching for anger to smother the fear and guilt.

The can of beer made a satisfying pop as he opened it. Willing himself to calm down and view the situation through a logical lens, like his position demanded, he returned to the living room at a slower pace.

“This is the vamps’ fault, Charity,” Andy was saying as Devon walked in. Yasmine lowered onto the couch. “The ones who turned him—this is all their fault.”

“I barely got there in time,” Devon told Andy as he leaned against the doorframe. He was much too keyed up to sit down. “It was about to bite her.” He clenched his teeth, not meaning those words to sound so accusatory.

Charity shuddered but remained silent.

“Okay, well, that’s not ideal,” Andy said, scooting to the far end of the couch to be closer to her. “But the important thing is that it didn’t bite her, right, Charity? No harm, no foul. I’m sure that thing”—she flinched—“gave you the ol’ sexy eyebrow waggle, right? Hell, I have a hard enough time saying no to human ladies, let alone an insanely gorgeous non-human lady who specializes in seduction. Then, bing-bang-boom, you’re scraping a vampire off your neck. It’s really not your fault.” Andy paused and trained his focus on Devon. “You…”

“Dispatched it, yes.”

Andy dropped his pizza into the box and leaned back to Charity. “I had a close one, once. Remember that, Devon? It was my first time out. This she-vamp snuck up on me. I was supposed to just be watching, right, so I was still in human form. Then she was breathing all over me, giving me the sex-kitten routine, touching… Yeah, I almost became a donor. Devon had to pull her off. I was a goner, man. So, Charity, it really isn’t that big of a deal. Learning curve, you know? It happens to all of us.”

“I saw it coming,” Charity said softly. “I should’ve known better.”

Andy opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Charity rose. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”

“What time is your class tomorrow?” Devon asked.

“I’ll get there on my own.” She brushed by him.

“Wait.” He lightly grabbed her arm so he didn’t have to chase her. “What time—”

She yanked out of his grasp, and before he knew what was happening, a solid punch took his breath away. His beer splattered against the wall and the can went rolling.

“Oh shit,” Andy said, standing.

Devon barely blocked another punch. He grabbed her arms, trying to subdue and not hurt, but she threw her body to the side and broke the hold before kicking toward his thigh. He intercepted with his knee, blocking.

“Calm down,” he said fiercely.

Anger and desperation emanated from her, her brow lowered, her lip pushed out. She was trying to physically fight away the emotional pain. He knew how that felt. So when vulnerability started to shine through her hard mask, he shoved her.

It was the least he could do.

She jabbed at him, a spark flaring in her eyes. He jerked out of the way, surprised at her speed and strength.

Shifting his strategy, trying to exhaust rather than subdue her, he struck at her side. Her hard forearm crashed down on his. He jabbed, hitting her ribs. Her breath gushed out, but she was already moving. Her fist connected with his side and pain welled up. She struck again, but he caught it, then yanked her forward and turned it into a throw.

Charity hit the wall before crashing to the ground. She was up in a flash, charging him like a wild thing. Her shoulder hit his middle. The breath pushed out of his lungs as he staggered back. He rocketed two punches into her midsection, now treating her like a shifter, meeting her on her level so she could fight out her pain.

He hit her again, smiling at her grunt.

She punched him in the face. His head banged off the wall. She stepped back, and then her other foot sped toward his nose, her form perfect. But not fast enough.

He caught her leg against his side before hammering his fist into her upper thigh. Her bruise would be enormous.