as he took Charity’s hand. His eyes darted up to meet Dillon’s in the rearview mirror. They exchanged the same silent message they’d pinged back and forth on multiple occasions these last couple weeks, waiting to finish the quarter so Charity wouldn’t miss any school. We’re running out of time.
It had initially been agreed that Charity could get through the spring quarter, but Devon worried they’d waited a month or more too long.
The van turned down yet another decrepit street, badly needing roadwork and clearly ignored by the city. This area of town had no end of them. Charity curled up to his side on the seat and dropped her head to his shoulder. Warmth unfurled in his middle, easing the anxiety that threatened to strangle him.
He’d known he would run into dominance issues with the new and more experienced pack members, but he hadn’t realized it would come so soon. Dale hadn’t even given Devon half a chance to lead before he’d challenged him. Given that Dale was ten times more experienced, Devon wasn’t sure he could take the grizzled veteran. He knew for a fact his pack couldn’t handle all three if they decided to band together. The new shifters were hardened. Savage. If it hadn’t been for Charity, this journey would’ve taken a bad turn before it had even begun.
“I wouldn’t give you this role if you didn’t have her by your side.”
Roger had said that after the battle with Vlad.
“Fighting is awfully hard when you’re being flung through a window.”
Devon stroked his thumb across Charity’s smooth skin. Roger must’ve known this would happen. He must’ve known Charity would be willing to help Devon. Willing, and more than able.
A sudden surge of pride turned immediately to fear. She was wobbling. Hard.
Her power earlier had been sharp and biting. When it hurt even Devon, he knew it was blistering through her, sapping her energy and draining her resources. If the surge had been any stronger, she might’ve passed out.
He was terrified that one day she wouldn’t wake up.
The van slowed to a stop. Charity looked beyond him and out the window, then grimaced. The disgusted expression crumpled into worry. “We’re not going to find anything in there related to magic, Devon. I grew up in that house. If there was something as interesting as magic, trust me, I would’ve known.”
He ran his thumb over the small dimple in her chin. “We’ve been over this. Whether or not we get answers, we’re going to the Flush. We’re going to get you help.”
She sighed and shook her head as Dillon got out of the van. Yasmine joined him before sliding open the side door.
“This is going to be a bad joke if I’m not warrior fae,” Charity mumbled, waiting for Devon to get out of the car.
“Vlad has put a lot of effort into trying to capture you,” Dillon said, standing beside Yasmine. “If a vampire that old thinks you’re warrior fae, then you’re warrior fae. He wouldn’t make a mistake that big and end up getting barbecued for his efforts.” He smiled supportively. “We’ll get you help, no problem.”
“I have to agree with the boy,” Barbara said, climbing out after them.
Dillon scowled at her, clearly not impressed with being called a boy.
The sticky warmth of the humid late afternoon wrapped around them. Garbage littered the cracked and worn cement, and potholes peppered the street. Trees leaned over broken fences and weeds strangled the run-down and forgotten yards.
The tiny, ramshackle house crouched in front of them, its paint peeling. One of the windows was covered with graffiti-scrawled particle board, and another had a ripped screen.
Yasmine picked up her shoe and glanced at the bottom. Her mouth twisted in distaste. She put it back down gingerly, trying to find a patch of cement that wasn’t stained or splotched. Good luck.
Andy strolled over from the second van, somehow not at all bothered by the tension with the new pack members.
“So this is where you grew up, huh?” he asked Charity, stopping on Devon’s other side. He probably didn’t want to get tossed again. “A little spot of paradise.”
Charity huffed out a laugh. “At least we owned our own home. That was kind of a big deal in this neighborhood.”
As Devon took in the crime-riddled surroundings, noticing a used needle on the curb and a discarded little baggie commonly used for drugs up the sidewalk, his stomach twisted for Charity’s stolen childhood. There was no playing in these streets, no friends having tea