Fairy Land. A cobblestone lane ran under her feet, leading away from the gigantic castle from which she’d emerged, a medieval behemoth with rough stone walls and arrow slits made for violent defense.
Devon’s intense gaze softened. “This is the Realm. We brought you here to ask some questions.”
She scrubbed at her chest, that crazy feeling of euphoria pulsing within her. She wanted to laugh so hard that she couldn’t speak. And then stab someone with a gilded knife.
“I think I’m going crazy,” she said in a wispy voice. Her legs wobbled.
Devon stepped closer and wrapped a solid arm around her waist, keeping her upright. “I thought I was hallucinating the first time I stepped through, too. But you get used to it.”
Small dwellings made out of clay, like rounded huts, with straw roofs dotted the lane opposite the formidable castle. Flowers decorated the front yards, many of which were encircled by white picket fences. Flourishing trees and bushes gave the folksy area a wooded feeling, closing the homes in with natural comfort and privacy.
She looked back at the huge medieval castle. “One of these things is not like the others…”
“C’mon,” Devon said. “Roger wants to talk to you. This may be your first time here, but we need answers for what happened in the Brink.”
“The Brink?” She resisted his tug urging her back to the castle.
“The human world. Non-magical.”
“Non…magical.” A laugh bubbled up as she noticed a person walking toward them. She blinked. Then wiped her eyes and blinked again. “Is that…”
“Don’t point!” Devon ripped her hand out of the air.
“Okay, but just to be clear. That. Woman. Is. Blue. That should not be possible.”
“She’s a sprite. Would you come on?”
Charity pushed him away so she could stand on her own. Ignoring the wobbles from numb legs, she tried, and failed, not to stare at the petite blue woman wearing a bikini top made of leaves.
The woman’s luminous green eyes darted up, connecting with Charity’s. A wrinkle wormed into her brow before her narrow face cocked to the right. They continued to stare at each other as the sprite passed, the sprite looking as confused and bewildered as Charity felt.
“Is a human in this world as weird as…what I’m seeing?” Charity asked quietly.
“You’re not human.” Devon gripped her upper arm, as though her words had suddenly reminded him of his purpose, which had, in turn, spoiled his mood. “You got in here, so you have magic in your blood. I have no idea what you are, but the smell and feel of you is different than anything I’ve ever encountered. You better stop playing me for a fool.”
Chapter Eleven
Her temper flared. “Here’s something that’s not a secret: you’re a dick.”
“Nice.”
“I’m in the Twilight Zone, and you make this about you?” She pulled up her hands, analyzing the tingling sensation. For some reason she couldn’t begin to explain, she yearned to hold a sword. A sword! What good was a sword in the age of guns, drones, and missiles?
As she blinked at her digits, the throb in her middle turned into a manic pounding. The sensation ran up and down her body and back in fantastic vibrations, singing in her blood. It welled in her chest, fizzing and sputtering. Some of it branched out, traveling through her shoulder and connecting with Devon’s touch on her arm.
Confusion stealing over her, she let her gaze travel up his round bicep, over his tattooed shoulder, and to his intelligent brown eyes, beautifully speckled with green and gold flecks. Their gazes locked. The humming between them, while completely foreign, felt absolutely divine. He flexed and his muscles popped, the effect somehow heightening the vibration between them, throwing her into a weird trance.
Slowly, she put her tingling palm on his pec. The singing in her blood intensified. The prickling increased, stopping her breath.
“Magic,” Devon whispered, clearly feeling it too. “You have a lot of it. It’s…flirting with mine. Somehow.” He tilted his head to the side, analyzing. “You’re not normal.”
“Oh, well, thank you for your expert analysis.”
“It’s also not the time to cop a feel.” His lips tweaked into a lopsided grin, as if he weren’t used to smiling.
“It’s always time to cop a feel,” she replied absently, pulling back her hand. She stared at her palm as she took a step away from him. Although she missed the feel of him, the warmth in her chest remained, supplying electricity. It was starting to get annoying.