“I’ll take the back,” Cole said. “I am already here.”
“I got it—”
“I’m in the back,” Devon said, cutting Dale off. Command and assurance rang in his voice. Dale and Cole both opened their mouths to argue, but a burst of magic thundered out of Devon, thicker and more potent than Charity had ever felt. A wave of it washed through her body, tightening her core and shortening her breath. “Charity will be in the center. Steve, you stick to her back. Cole, you’re in front of her. Protect the fae at all costs.”
Cole’s mouth clicked shut. Dale glowered, but didn’t comment about being left out. Both men and Barbara crisply responded, “Yes, alpha.”
Steve said, “I’m your huckleberry,” making Charity grin despite the anxiety rolling through her body.
Devon’s original pack said nothing at all. They didn’t waste time with formality. Instead, they filed in quickly, nudging and bumping Charity into position before divvying up the duffel bags, making it so everyone had an equal load and a good range of motion.
“It’s nice working with shifters,” Penny mused, her gaze pointed upward at a diagonal to the right. “No arguing, no pushback, just everyone working together to get the job done. My mother and the Bankses should take a lesson.”
“Your mother and the Bankses push shifters around, or don’t you remember the battle with the Mages’ Guild?” Emery waited until Cole and Steve filed in before turning.
“Wishful thinking, then. We’ve got company.” Penny’s fingers were moving as Emery started forward. She didn’t keep pace with him, waiting on the sidelines until Charity reached her. Only then did Penny start walking. “It’s targeting the fae—Charity. It’s targeting Charity.”
“Can you read minds?” Charity whispered, not wanting to disturb Penny, but not able to keep from asking.
“No,” Penny said. “I read magic. I can feel magical intent. And that fork-tongued tea toter is whipping up something nasty.”
“That sure is helpful,” Emery murmured, walking into the brush beside the path. His hands moved in front of him as if they were shaping a ball. He flung out his palms. A moment later, a scream rent the quiet of the wood. A small shape tumbled through the space between trees before low-hanging branches covered its fall. “It would’ve been nice to have you with me the last few times I came through this wood.”
A dead silence descended as they moved forward. Their shoes didn’t even make scuffing sounds against the dirt.
Charity caught movement from the corner of her eye. A feeling of danger scratched at her from the same direction.
“No, don’t worry about that thing, whatever it is,” Penny said. “It’s trying to form a confusion spell of some sort, but its efforts are rudimentary at best. Emery will take care of it.”
An agonized wail throbbed around them before ending abruptly. This time, Charity didn’t see the creature fall.
“Incoming! Something like magical acid. Your direction, Devon.” Penny spun, her hands out.
Without warning, Charity’s magic surged, scraping through her painfully. Almost immediately, a wave of Devon’s magic soothed the angry sting. A euphoric, somewhat erotic feeling flowered in its wake.
“Got it,” Devon said, his voice strong and sure.
“Where’s my sword?” Charity asked, flexing her hand, ignoring the ache in her knuckles. She tried to thread her way around Steve, wanting to help Devon, to hold up her position in the pack. But Steve and Cole both pressed in closer, trapping her between them. Penny stopped her from going around them.
Frustrated with her inability to do her part, she gritted her teeth. She should be fighting, leading the charge. She felt it in her bones. The role of precious cargo didn’t suit her.
“Do we change, boss?” Steve called.
A grunt sounded from behind. A tug at her middle urged her to take her place beside Devon. Her magic surged again. Just like before, Devon’s magic blended with it, purified it, and when it washed back through her, it carried the sweet song she kept hearing when her magic was working properly. Maybe it wasn’t her song at all—maybe it was theirs.
“He needs help,” Charity said, shoving Steve to get him moving.
“That kid does not need help,” Steve said, respect in his voice. “He can work a blade as good as he can work his wolf.”
“Yes, Steve, change. You too, Cole and Yasmine,” Devon called. “The rest of you, take the packs. Get moving, Emery.”
The line started moving again, Emery taking orders without a problem.
“You are shedding your distress,” Penny said urgently, plucking at Charity’s sleeve. An itch between Charity’s shoulder blades said they were being watched. “It’s calling to the creatures in this wood. You’re basically advertising your vulnerability. That can’t possibly be the way your power’s designed to work—”
“It’s probably supposed to do the opposite and I’m doing something wrong,” Charity said in frustration.
“Can you do something about that, Turdswallop?” Emery called back.