So would Roger. A Seer might shed some light on how important Charity’s role would be moving forward. Giving Reagan’s recent mess-up, Roger probably had the leverage to make that happen.
“It certainly seems like Charity is the product of the quest,” Roger said, thinking of all the elements at play. “It doesn’t change the current situation, though.”
“Right now we have Charity,” Alder said, his eyes gleaming. “We could harness her the same way. Make our own power play.”
Roger leaned back in his seat, analyzing his right-hand man. They’d been through the wringer together, but they’d always guarded each other’s back. They approached every new challenge from the same moral foundation. Roger wondered if this would be a rare divergence.
As if reading his thoughts, Alder said, “I’m just putting all our options on the table.”
“We aren’t kidnappers or mercenaries,” Roger replied in a firm tone.
Alder nodded, and Roger realized his old friend had been testing him. He’d wanted to make sure they were still on the same page. Power corrupted, but they had always kept each other balanced. It was good that they still could.
“What now?” Alder asked.
“Vlad is amassing troops. He’s pulling them in from everywhere.” Roger pushed himself to standing. “Devon is exceptional, but he’s not cut out for an elder with an army at his back.”
“He survived two mid-level vamps on his own, killing one,” Alder said.
Roger hid his smile. He prided himself on finding raw talent. Devon was no exception.
“Even still,” Roger said. “Vlad is another ballgame altogether.”
“Charity’s ballgame.”
“We need to sneak her into the Realm, away from Vlad, and hide her for as long as possible so no one catches wind of where she is until we’re positive who she is.”
“We need to talk to her mom. Which means we have to find her mom.”
Roger checked the time on his phone. They needed to organize the extraction before Vlad had enough vamps to bust through Devon’s wards. The elder was keeping all his people clustered in groups, knowing it would take more organization on Roger’s end to take them down. Organizing to that level took time.
Time they didn’t have.
“Get someone else on the newbies. We need to get Devon’s pack ready to move her. I don’t want to break her away from them. They’re her family now. Hopefully.”
Alder shook his head. “No need—Devon plans to take out the last three tonight. He’s shown himself extremely capable in pressurized situations. I think it’s time to move him and his pack up a level.”
“Are you sure? He didn’t mention this to me.”
“I talked with him not long before coming here. He was about to leave Rod’s house to transport Charity to the safety of his much stronger ward. He has the last three newbies in his sights and is already working on a plan with his pack. He thinks one night will be more than enough. New vampires no longer pose a threat to his people.”
Roger blew out a breath, hating to give his consent under the circumstances. Devon would need all his wolves, which meant leaving Charity within the ward, by herself. Devon had paid good money for that ward. He’d used the best mage in the area. If Charity stayed within its protection, she should be fine. Still, she was new to this life—she might equate invisible walls with vulnerability and run for the trees, leaving herself wide open.
Roger needed to set someone to watch her. There was no other way.
“Fine. Let him take out the last of them. Make sure he impresses upon her the importance of staying within the ward. Post a sentry to watch her, just in case. And give her my private line—tell her to use it for any purpose.”
“Yes, alpha.”
Roger watched his beta leave the room, his gut churning. This wasn’t just about his desire to merge the warrior fae with the shifters anymore, like in times of old. It was about a young woman’s life. At present, her freedom was solely safeguarded by Devon, who, regardless of his potential, was the most inexperienced alpha in his pack.
Roger needed to get back to Santa Cruz as soon as possible, or Charity was done for.Chapter Thirty-Five“Are you going to be okay?” Devon asked, staring intensely at Charity.
She nodded, but the idea of spending the night alone was playing hell on her nerves. She’d always been in danger growing up—her neighborhood had been riddled with break-ins, stray bullets, you name it—yet she’d always slept soundly. But this was different. Maybe the mythical quality of the threat was what had her on edge. Maybe it was the lack of bars on the windows.
Hell, maybe it was that she’d had Devon to lean on since day one.
But given the last couple of outings, she understood why this was the best solution. She wasn’t in a hurry to see her BFF again.