Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(29)

“No,” Roger replied, and his tone could’ve turned water into ice. It was clear he didn’t appreciate the interruption. “In earlier times, shifters fought beside other magical creatures. For whatever reason, the shape shifters have seen growth, but other magical beings are in decline. Many have retreated deep into the Realm to regrow their numbers. Unfortunately, they haven’t ventured back into the Brink. Not even toward the edge of the Realm, where we are.

“One of the creatures we used to fight beside was a subset of the fae, gifted with enhanced strength, speed and fighting prowess. Their people called them custodes, or guardians. But outside of their people, they were referred to as the warrior fae, because they were fearsome fighters—strong, quick, and brutal. Their magic could turn the tide in a fierce battle. Their numbers aren’t large compared with fae as a whole, even going back centuries, but if you were lucky enough to have one on your side, you did everything in your power to use that weapon to its full potential.”

Devon had heard something of the warrior fae. Everyone had. They lived deep in the Realm and kept to themselves. He’d never seen one. In fact, he’d never spoken to anyone who had.

“Now, the warrior fae guard their children like we do,” Roger said. “Like humans do. And since this type of fae haven’t ventured out of the Realm for some time, that we know of, it is very unlikely we’d run across one of them.”

“Sorry, sir. I’m still not sure how Charity fits in.”

Roger’s stare zeroed in on Devon. “She seems mild-mannered, doesn’t she? To me she does, anyway. Listens, engages…she’s polite. But with you—when you assert your dominance, she pulls back her sweet exterior and shows her iron core. She won’t put up with you pushing her around. Her magic doesn’t flirt with yours; it entices yours. It challenges yours, doesn’t it? She senses her magical equal in you, I’d wager. Something in her rises to the occasion.”

Devon shifted uncomfortably. “Her magic isn’t as strong as mine.”

“Not yet.” Roger leaned back in his chair. “But as I understand it, the warrior fae don’t come into their magic all at once. It’s gradual, usually guided by their kind. Charity’s magic has been kept at bay throughout her adolescence. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s been in the Brink, hidden away from other magical users, or that’s just how it goes for her kind, but her magic is seeping out. Soon it’ll start to gush.”

Devon leaned forward and gripped the arms of his chair. “Wait. What are you saying?”

Roger put both hands on his desk. “I have no idea how it happened, or why she is in the Brink, but it seems you’ve found us a warrior fae, Devon. One that we must keep safe at all costs.”





Chapter Thirteen





Charity heard Macy snicker as Andy swept his hand toward the castle.

“Here we have our headquarters,” he said in a lofty tone. “This castle once existed in the Brink in Europe. We have no idea how it came to stand within the gnome village, but it is estimated that it made the shift hundreds of years ago. The non-magical human inhabitants died in the crossing.”

Charity stared at her tour guide, trying to place his face. She was sure she’d seen him somewhere before, probably around campus. Who would have thought that a few of her fellow students had magical alter egos? The sandy-blond hair and button nose gave him a boy-next-door feel, and his laidback demeanor and easy smile set her at ease. He would fit into Santa Cruz perfectly.

Macy, whom Charity didn’t recognize, seemed more on point. Intelligence shone through her brown eyes, and she held herself with confidence. Her brown hair fell to her mid-back, and a kind smile surfaced anytime Charity screwed up her features in bewilderment at what she was seeing. They both seemed like good people.

“Now, the thing with the Realm is, there aren’t definable rules,” Andy went on, motioning them forward. “Not all the time, anyway.”

“Yes, there are. The elves create the rules, and violently enforce them.” Macy half turned to Charity. “They’re the government. We basically work for them to keep order in the Brink. Why they concern themselves with the Brink, I don’t know, since they never go there. But…” She shrugged. Clearly she wasn’t too curious of a person.

“I meant rules regarding the elements, Macy.” Andy ran his fingers through his messy hair, making parts stand on end. He didn’t bother patting it down after. “Sure, we have laws. Everywhere has laws. But take the weather, for example. It’s always perfect. If I want to wear a sweater, I’ll be comfortable. What if I’m naked in the middle of the night and need to go for a stroll? No problem. I’ll be just as comfortable as if I were in that sweater.”

“Why would you need to go for a stroll in the middle of the night while naked? Is it a medical condition?” Macy asked.

Andy frowned at her. “Maybe I have a leg cramp and it can’t wait until I get dressed.”

“But why aren’t you dressed in the first place?”

He blinked at her. “Because I’m sleeping.”

Charity lost the thread of their argument at the sight of huge horns jutting out from an inhuman head. The protruding nose with flaring nostrils, surrounded by fuzzy skin, gave the distinct impression of a bull’s head. Below that, a bare chest, thick with muscle, sported savage-looking arms. Ragged white scars crisscrossed deeply tanned skin. The creature’s torso ended in legs that seemed half-man and half-bull, clomping the ground with hooves.