Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(52)

“Good or bad?” Devon whispered.

“Way bad, bro,” Andy answered. “Way bad. She made sunlight…stuff in the middle of the night. That has got to be abnormal, right? I’ve never even heard of that!”

“You wouldn’t have heard of cutting your toenails, either, if Macy didn’t harp on you about it.” Rod snickered.

“Think Roger knows she can do that?” Dillon asked Devon.

“Knows I can do what?” Charity entered the living room, holding a steaming plate. The simple task looked to be too much for her. Macy trailed her with a concerned expression, carrying two more plates. “Or were you talking about another freak of nature?”

“Make sunlight at night,” Dillon answered.

Charity wobbled as she set her food on the coffee table. Andy hopped up and steadied her.

“I’m good.” She waved him away, and then sighed as he helped her into the recliner. “I’m not sure if Roger knows,” she answered once she was settled. “I did it when I came out of the mansion in a blind panic. He was charging me…or maybe the creature behind me, so he must’ve seen it then. I know it was him because of the eyes. He might not have realized I was the one throwing the magical sunshine, though.”

“He knows,” Devon said. “He doesn’t miss much. If he didn’t understand it at the time, he’s figured it out since.”

“What have we here?” Rod asked, surveying the plates. Andy was doing the same thing.

“Frozen food delight.” Charity closed her eyes and leaned back against the leather. “I just heated up a few things and put them on plates. It tastes like ass, but it’s better than moldy bread and cheese.”

“Anything at all is good for me.” Andy snatched a frozen burrito off the plate. “This’ll be a nice little snack until the pizza comes. I’m famished!”

“Are you going to call Roger tonight?” Dillon asked.

Devon didn’t need to ask him what was on his mind. That elder wasn’t acting normally, and if Charity had thwarted him twice, he’d want to settle the score. Devon’s pack would see him again. It was only a question of when.





Chapter Twenty-Three





“Sir, we’ve got a visitor.”

Roger glanced up from his desk in the castle, finding Beazie in the doorway with a concerned expression.

“Who is it?” he asked.

She twisted her apron. “Lycus, sir. He’s on official business.”

Roger tensed. Did Lycus ever stop by when it wasn’t official business? The centaur wasn’t known for his friendliness with other magical races. “Did he say what it was regarding?”

“No, sir. But…there’s been some talk about a strange woman that was roaming around here the other day. Bain, that surly minotaur, said he’s never felt so much power from a human. Thinks something is fishy. Like maybe we are engineering magical people somehow.” Beazie huffed. “He was drinking, of course. But he isn’t the only one asking questions.”

“I’ll be right down,” he told her.

“Yes, alpha.”

Roger ran his fingers through his hair. After hearing Devon’s report from the night before, it was clear they wouldn’t keep Charity’s magic undercover for long. If the most cunning elder vampire in known existence was interested in her, he must’ve recognized the same things Roger had from the turning party. He must know what her magic meant. But Roger had hoped to keep knowledge of her away from the Realm and the elves, something Vlad could be counted on to do as well. He didn’t want any more interest from the elves than Roger did.

Roger stared at his papers without seeing them. If the elves had sent Lycus to investigate, it meant they suspected a kernel of truth lay within whatever rumors they’d heard.

He made his way to the courtyard. Lycus waited near the gate with his arms crossed and his rear hoof occasionally stamping in irritation. While some centaurs chose to roam free, Lycus had given up the wilder attributes of his magical race in favor of a life of investigation for the elves. He took great care to maintain his domestic appearance, even going so far as to shoe his hooves for longer travels. He wasn’t a favorite among his people, it was rumored, but the elves used him for all their important issues.

His involvement did not bode well for Roger’s intentions for Charity.

“Lycus. Good to see you. How may I be of service?” Roger stuck out his hand for a shake. Lycus had to bend to take it. Being half horse, he had height aplenty.

“We’ve heard some reports that you entertained a non-shifter a few days ago.”

“Yes. One of our missions was interrupted by a magical human. We brought her here for questioning. Turned out, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wasn’t involved in the vampire turning. We let her go.”

“And who was this magical human?”

“A citizen of the Brink. She had no knowledge of her magical ancestry. Her mother left without mentioning it. This was her first visit to the Realm.”

“I see.” A scowl creased Lycus’s flat face. He knew Roger was intentionally being vague, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Being on a trial period meant Charity wasn’t officially Roger’s subject—for now, she wasn’t registered in the Realm, and she wasn’t in the Realm at present. As far Lycus was concerned, she was a rumor. Roger would make sure she stayed that way until they had a better handle on this whole situation. The last thing Charity needed was for the elves to roll in and swoop her up. If that happened, she could kiss her dreams in the Brink goodbye. So could Roger.