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“We hope,” Andy said, now on his phone too.

“We hope,” Devon agreed, swinging into the back seat before greatly slowing down, not wanting to disturb Charity’s slumber. Hopefully, she was just healing, like shifters did. Hopefully, her body was using this downtime to rejuvenate. Because at this rate, he wouldn’t even be able to turn her over to the elves to save her life.* * *Emery crouched within the magical flowers, looking down the cobblestone lane at the Realm side of the portal he’d chosen. More flowers bloomed along the way, a spray of cheerful colors and complementary fragrances. Gold filaments softly tumbled through the air, the perfect temperature for his light green jacket and matching pants. Then again, magic ensured the Realm was the perfect temperature for any attire. Lollipop trees, like a kid might draw in a picture, stood behind three benches off to the side of the portal, along with a magically tended hedge.

It was a lovely, picturesque scene that did not belong in this area of the wilds, with its naturally scraggly bushes, trees with gnarled and reaching branches, and plentiful gray rocks. Not even his dual-mage partner, Penny, could find merit in such stones.

Two months ago, when Emery had scouted this location as a possible entrance point for Charity, before Roger had even approached him to serve as her guide, the portal entrance had been as run-down and decrepit as the rest of the surrounding area. Thieves used this portal. Traffickers selling magic into the Brink. Goblins and other unsavory characters rolled through here, knowing this area, and many like it, were blind spots within the Realm. Places elves couldn’t be bothered to have their people patrol.

Emery chewed his lip, his gaze lingering on the tall, thin creature perched on one of the benches. A yellow halo surrounded him.

An actual elf.

Here, in no man’s land.

And not just hanging out here, either. This elf had cared enough to fix the place up. That bespoke someone with power. With clout and the exacting eye that went with it.

Why the hell was a powerful elf stationed at this portal?

Emery shook his head and rolled through his options. No way could he attack an elf. They were intelligent and tenacious, and they looked after their own. If he took this sentry down, the elves’ retaliation would be swift and brutal. Given their money and influence, nothing was out of the scope of possibility. That would put everyone in danger, including Penny and their crazy friend Reagan, who would stupidly march in here and seek vengeance of their own.

No, he had to get to the Brink so he could use his phone. He had to put Devon and his crew on alert and hold off their crossing until he picked out a new spot. An empty one. He might have to get creative, because one thing was infinitely clear—someone had tipped off the elves.

Emery’s questions were: who and what specifically were the elves looking for? Was it Charity, or had poor timing thrown them into the middle of something larger?Chapter SevenCharity came to consciousness slowly and through a fog of pain. Her temples pounded in time to her heart and her whole body ached. She felt like a wet rag—one that had been trampled on, thrown in the garbage, then buried in a pile of refuse. She’d never had a magical hangover this severe.

Then again, she’d never been flooded with that much power.

Her stomach turned with guilt at the memory of Devon fighting against the gale to get to her. To protect her from herself.

That shouldn’t be his job. His job as alpha was to protect his pack against outside forces, not against her magic. She was a dangerous distraction.

A voice rose out of her fog of pain. “When you find your true home, you will know it. And with that home you must stay so that others of your kind will stay with you. The future of all the worlds depends on it.”

Karen the Seer had said that. She’d alluded to Charity being royalty among the warrior fae, and Devon being destined for greatness in the shifter world. Given that warrior fae lived in the Flush, a place supposedly ass-deep in the Realm, and shifters worked in the Brink, well…it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. The Seer had been not-so-gently reminding her that while she belonged in the Flush, Devon did not. End of story.

Not for Charity. She’d gotten up and walked away. The worlds could suck it. She’d stay with Devon.

Except now…it was painfully clear that Devon would be better off if he weren’t strapped down by a wobbly magical nutcase toting a whole lot of baggage. She hated to think that Karen was onto something, but…

Charity sighed. Now wasn’t the time to figure it out. The first step was figuring out where she was.


Tags: K.F. Breene Warrior Fae Vampires