Warrior Fae Princess - K.F. Breene Page 0,25

call,” Charity said.

“I meant the demons,” Rod yelled over the din. “I’ve always heard demons are hard to control, but he has them moving around pretty handily.”

The first wolf reached the van and dove in, changing shape as it did so. Andy. He pulled a duffel out from under the seat, hauled it onto his lap, and started digging through it. He was probably looking for weapons.

Charity ran to the back of the van as another wolf jumped into it behind them, changing as she did so. Barbara. The shifter twisted toward the back window to check on Cole, but Charity was already on it. She sent a pulse of power at the were-yeti’s larger attacker, blasting it in half.

Cole roared and slashed at his other attacker, tearing out the demon’s stomach with his sharp claws, and then turned and lumbered toward the vans.

He might be powerful, but he was not fast.

“Hurry up, you bastard,” Andy yelled, clearly seeing the problem.

A lesser-looking demon moved to intercept Cole, and Charity hit it with another pulse of power. The spark blew the thing sky-high. Nothing was left. The creatures behind it weren’t dead, having enough juice left to keep going.

“Charity, behind you!” Andy yelled, pushing out of the first van, gun in hand.

Vampires zipped toward the wolves, Devon and someone else flanking a limping gray wolf that was moving at half speed. Charity gritted her teeth and turned on the sun. The loud buzzing competed with the wailing of the approaching sirens. The vampires shrieked, the whole scene suddenly overpowered by Cole’s pained bellow.

“Load up,” Andy said, falling in at Charity’s side and squeezing out a handful of bullets. They fell true, tearing into the side of the demon who’d just slashed at Cole’s back. The creature barely bumped backward.

“Damn it,” Andy swore as the other shifters piled into the vans. Cole was the only one left.

“Leave him,” Barbara shouted. “He knew the risks. Protect the fae. Leave him!” She slung the van door shut. Something hit the vehicle from the other side, shattering the window. The van lurched forward, Yasmine doing as Barbara had said.

Dread spread through Charity. “Like hell I’m leaving him!”

Gunshots blew up the night. The moving van’s wheel rolled over a demon’s arm.

Charity sprinted around, straight for the nearest demon. She slashed with her sword before slapping a palm into the center of its chest, the feeling of its sludgy skin making her grimace. A shock of power and the creature flew backward, but two more were already coming, blocking Cole from sight.

“Crap, there are too many—”

Steve lunged in front of her, ramming into the two demons and sending them flying. His mane lit on fire, but he didn’t stop. He chomped down on the nearest before shaking his mighty head, ending its movement. Another came at her from the side. Charity spun, her sword up and ready, but it belched fire before it got to her. This would require her magic, not her sword. The flame kissed her face before she could switch gears, the pain searing, and the demon kept on coming. She swallowed down fear and braced for the blistering impact.

The fire dried up, like it had been sucked away.

Charity had barely drawn in a surprised breath before the demon went flying, but not from her doing.

“Why the hell does no one ever invite me to their parties?”

Reagan, the fierce and possibly insane woman Charity had met after the attack at Devon’s house, ran into the scene with her sword flashing.

“Is it because I’m screwing a vampire?” She slashed down at a demon flailing on the ground. “Go home, Harry, you’re drunk.”

Reagan reached out her hand in Cole’s direction, her eyes raging with the fire of battle despite her flippant comments, and squeezed her fingers into a fist.

Amid shrieks and howls of surprise, the demons froze. Every last one of them.

If not for the wailing of sirens and Devon’s shouts to give Dillon space, Charity would’ve thought this was another hallucination.

“Hey, guys,” Reagan said, her body language nonchalant but her tone wary. Something she saw here disturbed her, and Charity didn’t want to know what would discomfit someone like her. “Looks like this neighborhood has gone to hell— Nope, you don’t get to turn around, Fred.” Reagan’s eyes narrowed. One of the demons squished, as though from an invisible vise squeezing it. “You chose your side. You all did. Surprise! It was the wrong side.”

“You know their names?” Charity asked stupidly.

Reagan cracked a smile that

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