Warrior Fae Princess (Warrior Fae 2)

At Devon’s glance, Steve and Cole fell in around Yasmine and Charity. Devon hurried to the front of the group, picking a pace he knew Yasmine could handle. When she tired, Devon would switch out Charity’s chariot. According to their guide, they had less than a day’s travel left. If they could bear down and keep the elves from catching them, they’d make it. They had to.

It wasn’t long before Dillon and his team returned. A look and Devon knew the threat had been neutralized. His beta hadn’t had a problem.

“This way,” Emery said, jogging beside Devon. Penny fell in next to Yasmine and Charity. “If we see an elf, we’ll pretend not to notice it at first. They are cautious. They don’t rush in unless they have assessed the risk. It’ll buy us time to figure out a strategy. If they do attack, aim to disable, not kill.”

They rounded a bend, and a whiff of funk rolled over Devon. He didn’t recognize the smell, but he could tell it was a creature that ate flesh and didn’t bother to wash up after.

Luckily for it, it stayed hidden as the pack ran by.

The sense of danger thrummed heavily in Devon’s middle. He barely kept from looking behind them, wondering if something was dogging their heels, if a trap lay just ahead.

In no time, they found a larger path that led down to the flatlands. They ran as fast as their two-legged companions’ legs could go, wary and always scanning. Senses on full alert.

It wasn’t until they neared a wide road lined with fragrant, blooming flowers and fruit-laden trees that danger presented itself, though it wasn’t in the form they’d anticipated.

“What the hell are demons doing in the Realm?” Emery said, followed by a string of curses.

“What? What’s happening?” Penny asked, pulling up beside him.

A crowd of creatures stood in front of the intersection leading to the thoroughfare they wanted to use. Each was a different although equally horrific nightmare—a goat head atop a naked human body, a beautiful woman with horns and furry limbs, and so on. While one or two smoked from internal fire, a couple looked like they wielded glimmering weapons of ice.

“Is this Vlad’s interference, or whoever recently outmaneuvered Vlad?” Penny asked. “And if Vlad’s not involved, how did they know we’d be coming this way? Even if we have a spy among us, there are no phones. There has been no way to relay our whereabouts.”

Emery shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Regardless, why are they allowed to hang out around here? The elves don’t allow creatures from the underworld into the Realm without strict permission, and that permission comes with a certain…dress code, if you will. No way would they have let this go. Those demons are breaking the treaty.”

“You think Lucifer might’ve sent them?” Penny asked.

Emery just shook his head. He had no answers.

Devon huffed to get their attention before pointedly looking away to the right. Three figures, lean and fair, sauntered along the path. Their arms practically swished from side to side with a graceful flair. Though the elves were too far away for their eyes to be seen, it was clear their focus was on the group of demons blocking Devon and his pack. That could be a good thing—

The first demon noticed Devon’s pack, its clawed hand coming up to point. The rest turned, and as one they started running, charging directly toward Devon and crew.

Time to go.

He dodged left and pushed through a green hedge, creating a hole that Yasmine wouldn’t have a hard time following. The hole was made bigger as Cole tore one section up by the roots, roared, and threw it. Stealth was not in his wheelhouse, not that it mattered at the moment.

They took off across the short grass, the appearance green and soft but the feel hard and scratchy. It was a magical illusion.

The demons leapt over the hedge and the elves surged forward, hurrying to catch up. The elves were outnumbered three to one, but clearly that didn’t trouble them. Good news.

“I’m following your lead,” Emery said to Devon. “Let me know when to unleash hell.”

Devon cut across the field at a diagonal, aiming to meet up with the thoroughfare, hoping the elves would reach the demons before the demons reached his pack.

No such luck.

The first demon came within five feet of them, its large arm thrown back in preparation to swipe at Cole. Devon changed direction on a dime, darting between Emery and Cole, and launched himself at the demon. He tore through its chest with his paws before ripping through its throat, the element of surprise on his side.

The rest of the shifters engaged, slamming into the larger creatures. Strange roars and a goat’s bleat filled the field. Devon rode the demon to the ground, waiting for it to convulse and go still.