Sucker Punch (First Fangs Club #3) - Kristen Painter Page 0,50
sky. Then Donna jogged toward the gate. No point in being quiet any longer. All around her, the woods came alive. Temo, Charlie, and the rest of her crew appeared a few seconds later, breaking out of the pack of wolves.
She went through the gate, and the surrounding world changed. Thick mist permeated the woods, which were now darker, almost like daylight was being magically tamped down. There was no snow, only bare earth and a slate path. Clusters of lacy white flowers bloomed in patches around the trees.
Ahead of her in the distance, the stronghold rose like a behemoth from the mist, a massive, craggy fortress of stone and bronze that seemed like the architectural embodiment of brute force.
Torches burned all along the parapets, but there were no guards on patrol. None in the sky either. In fact, the fortress seemed oddly quiet.
Intentionally quiet. She got the distinct impression a trap had been set.
Temo joined her. “They can’t all have gone to sleep. If they were vampires, I’d maybe buy it. But not the fae. I don’t like this.”
“Me either, but we have no choice. We have to go in.”
“Boss, you should stay out here with Charlie and the wolves.”
She slanted her eyes at him.
He shrugged. “Worth a try.”
Kace joined them, then Will Ferris. Two wolves darted forward to meet them as well.
“LV? Toni?”
Both wolves responded with soft woofs.
“Amazing support, ladies. Thank you.” She looked around. “Are we ready?”
Will nodded at Donna. “Jerabeth, Reggie, and Harper have just taken to the sky to patrol.”
Donna frowned. “What?”
He raised his gaze and pointed. “There they are.”
She followed his finger, and a woman on a broom went zipping past high above them. “Mary and Joseph. How about that. What about Daisy?”
“Daisy is coming in with another group,” he answered. “You may see Reggie on the ground soon too. If the fae don’t take to the sky, that is.”
She nodded in understanding. Reggie needed to feel like she’d had her revenge. “Between them and the drone, plus the wolves and the rest of our team in the woods, we should be covered. Let’s go.”
“Not without me.”
At the familiar voice, Donna turned to see a woman coming through the gate. Mist swirled past like a curtain billowing, but not enough to hide her chain mail shirt adorned with a bold crimson cross, leather pants, and long sword. For a moment, Donna imagined she might be Joan of Arc. But had Joan of Arc carried a crossbow on her back?
Donna’s jaw unhinged as the woman’s face came into clear view. Her dark hair was plaited back in a single braid. “Cammie?”
She nodded, stern and serious. “Here and ready to fight.”
“With me, right?”
A brilliant smile lit her beautiful face. “With you.” She reached out a hand. “Whatever the consequences.”
“Does that mean—”
“We’ll talk about it later. Doesn’t matter anyway. Family sticks together.”
If Donna’d still had the poison in her system, she would have broken down in tears. Instead, she grabbed Cammie’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sis,” Cammie said.
With a smile, Donna faced the stronghold again. As soon as they entered the stronghold, the wolves would pour through the gate and take up new, closer positions. “Okay, let’s—”
Ishalan stepped out of the mist. With her eyes bespelled, he was a stunningly gorgeous creature. He had no weapons, no armor. He was dressed in a simple tunic and pants, his wings at rest behind him but glittering like a dragonfly’s. He gave her an amused look. “Did you think I wasn’t coming?”
The thought had crossed her mind. “I wasn’t sure, but now that you’re here, take us to Rico. We’re wasting time.”
“As you wish, Governor. But walking into the heart of the fae wearing that much iron is like banging a drum in the middle of the nursery and expecting the infants not to cry.” He spread his long fingers, hands up. “It’s your funeral.”
Will snarled. “It’s her funeral if she takes it off.”
“It’s Ishalan’s if something happens to me.” She held her hand up. There wasn’t time for this. “I’ll take the coat off. But I’m keeping the bracelets.”
“Fine.” Ishalan turned on his heel and marched toward the stronghold and the gothic arch that was the fortress’ entrance.
She quickly shed the coat into Will’s waiting hands and caught up to Ishalan. “Why is it so quiet?”
“Most of my brethren are asleep.”
Mist swirled around them, making it hard to see more than a few steps ahead. “Really? Because it feels like a trap.”