wendigo can sneak up on you from behind, melt into your body, and take control, using you to attack and eat the person in front of you. That’s you dead. That’s your friend dead or bloody and very grossed out. So watch yourselves. Stay alert.” He paused. “Who’s excited?”
Chapter Sixteen
“Who’s excited?” Charity said, pulling her arms from around Devon’s neck. “What kind of stupid question is that?”
She fought the aches in her joints and the overall exhaustion dragging her down and struggled out of Devon’s grasp. Whatever the dual-mages had done to them had literally brought her back from the dead, but it hadn’t completely repaired her. Only food, time, and sleep could do that. Hopefully.
Given Devon’s inability to hold her steady, he was just as low on fuel. They were sharing the energy of one person. She’d pulled him down enough—there was no way she would tie up his hands so he couldn’t even defend himself. She was done being a leech. Done crying about her past and worrying about her future. These people were making this trip because of her, putting themselves in danger, and she was damned if she’d send them to their graves.
Emery didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to. A strange, hollow sort of laugh drifted out of the trees.
“Welcome,” a disembodied voice said, the tone taunting.
“I got the back,” Steve said, savageness ringing through his words. “They can try to sneak up behind me.”
“I’ll take the back,” Cole said. “I am already here.”
“I got it—”
“I’m in the back,” Devon said, cutting Dale off. Command and assurance rang in his voice. Dale and Cole both opened their mouths to argue, but a burst of magic thundered out of Devon, thicker and more potent than Charity had ever felt. A wave of it washed through her body, tightening her core and shortening her breath. “Charity will be in the center. Steve, you stick to her back. Cole, you’re in front of her. Protect the fae at all costs.”
Cole’s mouth clicked shut. Dale glowered, but didn’t comment about being left out. Both men and Barbara crisply responded, “Yes, alpha.”
Steve said, “I’m your huckleberry,” making Charity grin despite the anxiety rolling through her body.
Devon’s original pack said nothing at all. They didn’t waste time with formality. Instead, they filed in quickly, nudging and bumping Charity into position before divvying up the duffel bags, making it so everyone had an equal load and a good range of motion.
“It’s nice working with shifters,” Penny mused, her gaze pointed upward at a diagonal to the right. “No arguing, no pushback, just everyone working together to get the job done. My mother and the Bankses should take a lesson.”
“Your mother and the Bankses push shifters around, or don’t you remember the battle with the Mages’ Guild?” Emery waited until Cole and Steve filed in before turning.
“Wishful thinking, then. We’ve got company.” Penny’s fingers were moving as Emery started forward. She didn’t keep pace with him, waiting on the sidelines until Charity reached her. Only then did Penny start walking. “It’s targeting the fae—Charity. It’s targeting Charity.”
“Can you read minds?” Charity whispered, not wanting to disturb Penny, but not able to keep from asking.
“No,” Penny said. “I read magic. I can feel magical intent. And that fork-tongued tea toter is whipping up something nasty.”
“That sure is helpful,” Emery murmured, walking into the brush beside the path. His hands moved in front of him as if they were shaping a ball. He flung out his palms. A moment later, a scream rent the quiet of the wood. A small shape tumbled through the space between trees before low-hanging branches covered its fall. “It would’ve been nice to have you with me the last few times I came through this wood.”
A dead silence descended as they moved forward. Their shoes didn’t even make scuffing sounds against the dirt.
Charity caught movement from the corner of her eye. A feeling of danger scratched at her from the same direction.
“No, don’t worry about that thing, whatever it is,” Penny said. “It’s trying to form a confusion spell of some sort, but its efforts are rudimentary at best. Emery will take care of it.”
An agonized wail throbbed around them before ending abruptly. This time, Charity didn’t see the creature fall.
“Incoming! Something like magical acid. Your direction, Devon.” Penny spun, her hands out.
Without warning, Charity’s magic surged, scraping through her painfully. Almost immediately, a wave of Devon’s magic soothed the angry sting. A euphoric, somewhat erotic feeling flowered in its