Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(37)

Charity’s face closed down, a hint of embarrassment showing in a flush. She squared her body to him, and her magic slammed into his, almost knocking the breath out of him.

Ah. Right. She didn’t have anything else. He let it go.

He jerked his head toward her dinosaur laptop. “You gonna leave that?”

She scowled. “I was going to grab it on the way out.”

“All right, then let’s go.” Devon scooped up her laptop, let her grab the ballerina, and motioned her out of the room.

“Yes, I know it’s old,” Charity said with a stiff back as she led the way, “but it works.”

Devon didn’t look down at the computer. “At least you have one.”

He barely heard her sigh. “Exactly.”

As they passed the kitchen, Charity dipped in toward the cabinets.

“What are you doing?” he asked, peering out the windows.

When he glanced back, she was ripping food out of one of the cupboards, piling it into a brown paper bag.

“Are you kidding me? The vamps will be waking up shortly, and the newbies will be starving. They need a crapload of blood in the first few weeks. Sam might be coming back here. This is not the time for a snack.”

He jogged toward her and reached for her arm. She ducked out of the way and grabbed out some more cans.

“I just want to grab a couple things.”

“Charity, I have food at the house. Let’s go!”

She grabbed a box of what looked like granola bars and dashed to the fridge.

“You aren’t serious. You aren’t.” He was losing patience. “Come on!”

“Yup.” She dropped the last few items into the paper bag, then zipped down the hall and out of the house, emerging into the new night. Alone.

Swallowing back a curse, he launched after her. She was already at the car door by the time he exited the house, too fast for her own good. Shaking his head, blood rushing in his ears, he did a quick glance around before he clicked the fob, unlocking only the driver’s-side door. Ducking into the car, he checked it with his nose. Only the regular smells. No trespassers. No vamps.

“Are you dumb, or something?” he yelled across the hood, completely out of control.

She didn’t react to his temper like his pack did—she simply frowned. “Why?”

He opened his mouth then closed it. He was completely at a loss for words.

Movements jerky with anger, he unlocked her door. Once she was safely in the car, he climbed into the driver’s seat, waited for her attention, and then made a show of looking in the back seat.

“Did you see what I did there?” he asked as he pushed the ignition button. “I checked the back.”

“I saw that, yes. And you are implying I didn’t and should have?”

“Wow, you are astute, Miss Taylor. I can see how you’ve made it so far.”

“Did you think that maybe you could’ve just told me that, instead of being a dick about it?”

“I shouldn’t have to teach you logic.”

“I have a different frame of logic than you do, obviously, since the car was locked until you stepped out of the house with your clicker thingy.”

Devon gripped the steering wheel so he didn’t grip her neck. Her magic poked and prodded him, and her smell threatened to melt him through, making this confrontation a hundred times worse.

Willing himself to be calm, he said, “Okay, fine. Look, you need to let me lead you out of places. You need to always assume things have been left unlocked, because many creatures with magic aren’t impeded by human electronics. Or deadbolts. Magic is the only key they need. You have to defer to me—”

She huffed.

“—until you know what you are doing. Okay?”

She barely nodded, but she did. Devon took a large breath and shook his head.

He might quit his job after all.





Chapter Sixteen





After about fifteen minutes of driving across town, the shiny Range Rover turned off the highway toward a small shopping center with neon signs and twinkling lights. Charity came out of the stupor induced by Devon’s cushy leather seats in time to see him pull into a deserted fast food drive-thru.

“What do ya want?” he asked, eyeing the options.

The bright glow of the menu chased the darkness away. She traced the edge of her fingernail as she remembered the balance of her checking account. It was under twelve dollars, which would need to last her the whole week.

“I’m okay. I brought food.” Her stomach growled, punctuating her words.

Devon hung his head. Lines of fatigue had worked around his speckled eyes, making his thick black lashes droop. He leaned back against the seat. “Look,” he said. He ran his hand across his face. “I know you’re starving. Neither of us want to go home and make something. I also know you’re holding out because you don’t have the money. It’s five dollars, Charity. I’m good for it. You need to learn to pick your battles.”

“Number three, please. With a Coke.”

“Thank you.”

When they got their food, Charity reached for a fry.

“No, not yet.” Devon scrunched the top of the bag so the heat would stay in.

“What do you mean?” she asked as he turned off the street and onto a dirt road.