Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(38)

“Can’t eat until you get there. It’ll let all the heat out.”

Her mouth dropped open as she watched him expertly handle the vehicle around a sharp turn and a jutting tree. The soft green lights from the dash carved out the structure of his face. His deep-set eyes and high cheekbones almost made him look regal, but that strong jaw and slight cleft in his chin bent him toward core-tighteningly masculine. She could understand why Samantha wanted him over Donnie. He wasn’t just a guy with a handsome face or a nice body; he had a certain raw quality about him. He was bare and ruthless and unkempt. He might’ve styled himself just so, but that was a fa?ade. Underneath, he was wild. Uncontrollable and untamable. Savage, even.

Charity took a deep breath. He’d be miserable to house-train. Thankfully, all she had to do was somewhat get along with him until she could figure out the next steps.

“Me hungry,” she said. “I just want one fry.”

“No. The rule is, you have to wait until you get home.”

She stared at him. “Didn’t you just say we had to pick our battles?”

“Yes. And this is my chosen battle. You can’t open it until you get there.”

“It’s not a present!”

“It will be when you get there. Fries are delicious.” A childlike grin lit up his face.

Charity snorted as they pulled into a driveway lined on one side with a beautiful lawn and flower garden. Yawning trees surrounded the property, offering beauty and privacy. A light clicked on as they neared the garage, bathing the driveway. The residence sprawled out, beckoning them in like wayward travelers.

“Are you the only one that lives here?” Charity asked, fries forgotten.

“Yes. I bought it a couple years ago.”

Devon balanced the computer, the food, and her duffel bag, leaving her to bring in her bag of pillaged food and the drinks. As she climbed out of the SUV, her gaze slid to the murky darkness that pooled between the bases of the trees pressing in on the house, turning into an oily black deeper into the foliage. Anything could be hiding in there, ready to surge out at them. But that wasn’t why her heart was suddenly rampaging through her chest. She was terrified that the creature who stepped out of the darkness would wear Sam’s or Donnie’s face.

“You coming?” Devon asked, heading toward the front door.

Hustling toward the house, she was still looking at the tree line when she bumped into Devon. Normally she would apologize and step back, but the solidity of his body, and the feeling of safety it imparted, shocked into her. She pushed into him, her stuff held out to the sides so her whole front was plastered against his back. She buried her face in the groove between his back muscles like an ostrich at the beach.

“This place is warded. Unless we’re sieged, no one is getting through,” Devon said tiredly.

“What do you mean, warded? Like with magic?” she mumbled into his shirt.

“Yes. I hired one of the best mages I could find to place protective spells around the property. You’ll be safe here. As safe as anywhere, at least.”

He waited for a second after opening the door. She waited with him, tempted to fall asleep against his warm, manly-smelling T-shirt. It had been a long day.

“Charity?”

“Devon?”

“What… Can… Seriously?”

She tilted back on her heels, eyes half-open. A quick gaze to the tree line, and…

They were still standing there. Why were they still standing there?

“Go.” Charity nudged him with her chin.

He stepped to the side and scowled down at her. “Ladies first! Hurry up. I’m starving.”

“Only you are still a jerk when you’re being a gentleman.” She grinned before trudging into the house.

“At least I am being a gentleman. I bet your precious Donnie didn’t hold doors for you.”

She was about to grudgingly accede when reality slapped her. Donnie was no longer the boy she’d known. He was almost certainly a vampire.

“Sorry,” Devon murmured, closing the door behind him. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Struggling for a cleansing breath, trying not to let fear erode her courage, she glanced around. They’d entered a living room of sorts, with a huge media center off to the side. The furnishings and decorative art were classy but not showy. Everything had been bought for use rather than grandstanding. Down the hallway and to the left was another living area, but without the electronics. Two couches faced each other in front of a fireplace—a sitting room?

The next stop was the kitchen, decked out with high-dollar appliances that looked new and shiny. Also unused.

“How long have you lived here?” Charity asked, putting her stuff to the side and setting the drinks on the small, circular table in the corner, removed somewhat from the island. A formal dining room peeked out through a doorway off the kitchen.

“A little over two years. I got a bonus when I made alpha. I’m the youngest alpha since Roger.” Pride rang in his voice as he tore into the bag of greasy delight, somehow not immediately shoving a fry into his face. His control was unreal.

“Everything here looks really new,” Charity said, watching in fascination as Devon took out each component of his meal and set it in front of him, just so. He opened his hamburger, but didn’t immediately chomp down. Instead, he spread the paper, put his fries—still untested—in the corner diagonally, and his Coke directly in front of him. Only then he did he start to eat.