He gave her a grin, like a promise, and then pointedly looked down at his feet.
A warthog ran past in a blur. Once the way was clear, a sob of horror caught in Charity’s throat.
On its side, trying in vain to get up, lay a large black wolf.
“Oh no,” she breathed.
Liquid glistened in Devon’s fur, and judging by his weak attempts to get to his feet, it was his blood.
“Take me!” she screamed, staggering forward. “Leave him and take me.”
Roger growled and stepped in her way. More of his shifters joined him, cutting her off. She’d not only have to fight the vamps and demons to cross the divide, she’d have to fight her allies, too. To them, she was more valuable than Devon. They’d let him die to save her. She would never get there in time.
As if hearing her thoughts, Vlad smiled and gave her a “naughty, naughty” finger. He was blaming her for so many of his vampires dying, for not coming quietly like he’d wanted. For not giving in days ago.
Claws erupted from his fingers, and he swiped down toward Devon.
Time slowed. Each heartbeat lasted ten minutes. Fear such as she had never known stole her breath. And she erupted.
Sunlight lit up the sky, so bright that even the wolves cringed, but that wicked claw kept going, Vlad undeterred by his smoking skin.
Charity dropped her sword and threw out her hands with a scream.
A jet of pure white light shot from her palms, coalescing to form a thick, buzzing ball. It smashed into the vampire. The razor-sharp claw barely grazed Devon’s fur as Vlad jolted back. Devon yelped in pain.
Vlad burst into flame, apparently too old and powerful to explode, as she intuitively knew a lesser vampire would. The flames engulfed him, wild and vicious. Clothes tore as he turned into his monster form. He howled, his body now a bonfire.
The flaming vampire took off running, screeching as he did so. The other vampires followed, their hands held above their heads to ward off Charity’s sunlight. The demons, what was left of them, joined the retreat.
The shifters ran after them, clearly wanting to kill whatever they could.
Charity swayed, feeling like she’d run ten miles in concrete shoes underwater. Her vision started to waver. Large arms caught her and picked her up. Her head lolled on a thick shoulder.
“What about Devon?” she asked hoarsely.
“We’ll look after Devon,” Roger said softly, carrying her into the house.
She tried to struggle, but everything turned black.Chapter Forty-Two“How’s the girl?” Steve asked, stalking into the room like he was looking for prey. Wolves always had a light-footed predatory thing going, but the big cats were ridiculous for it. You’d think they were constantly in a game of hide-and-seek.
Roger leaned back from the desk in Devon’s sparse office. For a guy who went to school, he didn’t seem to use the place much. If Roger hadn’t known for a fact the kid was getting excellent grades, he would have stuck his nose in.
“She’s fine. She’s sleeping it off.”
“I hear she threw you through a window.”
Roger glared at Steve, not pleased that the story had gotten out. Steve met the stare for a beat before lowering his eyes, just shy of a challenge. It was another irritating thing about cats—always trying to push their independence.
“She woke up as weak as a kitten and demanded to see Devon,” Roger explained. “I said no. She listens about as well as you do. It took the last of her resources, but…”
Steve started laughing in big, body-racking guffaws. “The only one to challenge you and win, huh?”
“She’s a warrior fae. I can’t teach her a lesson unless I want her whole posse on my back. I figured it was easier letting them heal together.”
“I hear those two bicker a lot.”
Roger snorted. That was an understatement. “They’re twenty-somethings—barely adults. Life for them right now is all about fire and passion and wild mood swings. Charity probably doesn’t know if she wants to slap him or wrap her legs around him.”
Steve bent forward, chortling. “I remember those days. Had a girl that drove me mad. The best was when she slapped me as she was wrapping her legs around me.”
Roger smiled. The young alpha and the Arcana had formed a tight bond. Charity had proved that today by, yes, using her damned power to toss Roger through a window so she could get to Devon’s side.
Devon had proved his devotion, too. He’d gone for Vlad. The young alpha must’ve known it would be his death. But he had distracted Vlad long enough for the vampires and demons to lose focus as a group. They’d fallen out of sync, allowing Roger to break through the outer barrier and put a crew around Charity. Without a strong leader giving constant, clear orders, lower-tier demons and younger vampires were mindless killing machines, easier to take down. Devon had tried to sacrifice himself to buy her time, something that had surely saved her. In so doing, he’d also created a win for the whole pack.