Hell on Wheels (Faetal Attraction #1)

Let’s Get It Started

Having your woman and your guy look at you like they’re planning to devour you is a hell of an ego booster. My fellow dudes all had their jaws on the floor as Rogue descended the steps with Archie, and I did, too. Both of them look hot as hell in their colorful formal wear, but I’m just as happy to note their gaze on me.

Guillermo really outdid himself this time; Lola and Luca will lose their shit.

Archie and Rogue are in cool palettes—much like Reb in his spring green, purple and blue—but Javi, Angelo, and I are in warm tones of black, yellow, orange, and red. It’s an amazing contrast when we’re all together, almost as if we were intentionally dressed to represent the rainbow that is part of Rogue’s derby handle. No suit is the same; they’re all tailored to the personality of the owner in a way that makes us look like we’re ready to walk a runway in Milan.

The effect is stunning and as we drive from the house to the ‘secret’ location of the Appalachin in the large armored SUV, I can’t help feeling a tiny thread of confidence. We may not be in on what the hell is going on, but someone wanted us present for this damn meeting masquerading as a party. It might be good or horribly bad, but no matter what, we’ll know where to go from here once it’s over.

“Damon? You cool, bro?”

I look over at my twin, shrugging. “As okay as any of us can be without knowing why we’ve been summoned. You and I probably would have had to come even if Rogue didn’t get the package, but Luca would have told us himself. This is a very interesting way to bring two Guardians, two demon princes, and two shifters with varying alliances to their table. I’ve been trying to suss out why—other than Mina having machinations—and nothing I’ve run has a probability percentage high enough to presume it’s likely.”

Rogue turns in her seat to give me a fond look. “Damon, some shit can’t be quantified, no matter how hard you try. The amount of variables in this situation is quantum level stuff and you haven’t had the time to be super computer man. It’s okay if we have to go in with our eyes open and the weapons we can smuggle past the guards.”

“It is handy that you and Rebel can do that magic call thingy. Yours won’t have to be hidden,” Javier says. “Carbon fiber stuff should fool metal detectors, but not mages and whatnot.”

Snorting from the driver’s seat, Rebel shakes his head. “It depends on how thoroughly they’ve warded this place. Fae magic is usually strong enough to get past most of the witch or mage stuff, but we can’t guarantee it. Angelo, have you seen any Fae groups at these things in the past?”

My twin scratches his chin, thinking about it. Since Luca rarely takes me along, I don’t have an answer. Unfortunately, Angelo’s memory isn’t eidetic like mine, nor is he good at paying attention to things that aren’t his immediate concern. “Dude, I don’t know. I don’t remember discourse with any, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t there, and I didn’t miss it. I’m always focused on what the fuck trouble Luca is getting demons into more than anything.”

“He’s very unpredictable in audiences like that,” I add. “Ang would have to pay attention to what he’s yammering about, so the entirety of our family and possibly all surface dwelling demons aren’t tied to something shitty because Luca was trying to impress someone he wanted to fuck or beat up.”

“How the hell has that idiot held onto his seat for this long? You guys describe him like the typical philandering billionaire moron the humans elect. Demons are definitely smarter than that,” Rogue says as she frowns. “I don’t get it.”

Archie laughs, looking over at Angelo and me in amusement. “Your dad would be so pissed at that comparison.”

“He really would,” I murmur, then sigh. “Luca can be single-minded about things, but Lola is the stabilizer. She brings him back from stupidity every time, and when she’s not there, it’s Angelo’s job. When there isn’t a lot of eye candy, he does fine on his own—mostly.”

“Even the underworld spins on exceptional women being the backbone for successful men,” Rogue mutters in annoyance. “You assholes had better n ever expect me to carry your water like that. I’ll gut you and take your seats at the table myself.”

That really has no business being as hot as it is, but here we are.

“Invitation.”

I arch a brow at the giant pit demon and wolf shifter manning the door at the innocuous-looking warehouse. My senses tell me this is disguised by a lot of magic—perhaps a combination amongst the groups to prevent uninvited guests—and they think their large statures in non-supe form are intimidating. That’s not the case in the slightest, evidenced by the loud bark of laughter from our girl.

Rogue puts her hand on her hip as she pulls the one piece of ribbon that was left after the magical invite disappeared from her decolletage like a sexy magician. “This is all that’s left, dudes. You can accept it or call your bosses over; I don’t give a fuck which. However, since I’m escorted by the two heirs to the Gemini syndicate, a Guardian, a phoenix, and a hockey star, I feel you’re gonna get an ass chewing.”

“Having famous men surround you doesn’t make you important, whore,” the wolf snarls.

Before any of us can move, our girl holds her hand up, smiling in an extremely friendly and dangerous fashion. Waving her hand dramatically, she replies in a fake sweet voice, “Oh, you’re going to regret that, mouth breather.”

I have to cover my mouth with a chuckle when her wings pop free, spreading out around her in anticipation of releasing the fatal Fae dust she rarely uses. Rogue is not fucking around tonight, and this is her way of showing it. “Mate, I’d keep my fat yap closed from now on. There’s a reason the Society doesn’t like her wearing her birthright.”

Rebel grins as he unleashes himself, his eyes dancing. “But I’m free to use mine if I feel threatened. Are we being threatened? Is this an unsafe situation for two Guardians or?—?”

The pit demon recognized he was fucked when she said Gemini, so he hasn’t said a word since. The wolf shifter, however, is as ‘all brawn, no brains’ as many of the local pack are, so he gives us a stubborn look. His unwillingness to respect those more powerful is likely why he’s stuck guarding this door—genuine leaders know when they have foot soldiers who aren’t bright enough to handle actual work, so they use them as bullies. Luca does it too, and he doesn’t give a single fuck if they get killed in the name of defending his bullshit.

“Guardians aren’t in control here, Fae.”

This is why people hate these motherfuckers—zero awareness of their place in the pecking order.

Angelo growls, his horns sprouting as his eyes turn dark. He steps forward, blue flames surround his hands as he gets in the wolf’s face. “I don’t think you fully comprehend the consequences of denying entry to the heirs to the Gemini throne and their mate.”

“Uh, Cash, perhaps you should… let the Prince and his group in. The Boss will be pretty pissed when he hears his sons were insulted…”

Usually, pit demons aren’t smart enough to discern nuance, so I look at him curiously. “What’s your name, demon?”

“Drazrath, your excellency,” he replies as he dips his head.

Oh, how I hate that reaction, but I know I have to play the role here.

“You have been assigned below your ability, I believe. I will make sure Luca knows this,” I say before I turn to glare at the wolf again. “My twin is not joking with you, shifter. I suggest you step aside and we won’t report this to your alpha.”

Angelo snorts, and I roll my eyes internally. Of course, that’s a lie; this idiot insulted Sparkles, so encouraging his swift death for the crime is on the agenda. But if he thinks we’ll have him spared, we can stop standing on the doorstep like fucking Christmas carolers.

“Enough of this idiocy,” Rogue grumbles as she pushes in front of Angelo and me. “I’m done with your male posturing, fleabag.” Her tattoos light up, and a pulse of energy emits from her frame, pushing the lunkhead out of the way with enough force to send him flying. With a sigh of annoyance, our girl cocks her head at us, then heads inside of the warehouse without a word.

“Damn, Wheels,” Archie says, and I hear the desire in his tone. “That was badass and sexy as hell. Too bad we’re walking into a pit of vipers or?—”

“Shh,” Rebel cautions him. “We should assume that anyone here could be listening via magic or supe hearing. We don’t want to give up any information that isn’t necessary.”

I wink at the lion and he grumbles something unintelligible but joins me behind our girl, Reb, and Angelo in the lead. Javier flanks him and together, we’re a shield against any enemies coming up from behind. “This place looks deserted. I thought the outside was probably an illusion, but it’s really a dirty warehouse.”

Rogue shakes her head in front of me. “Not entirely. There’s portal magic somewhere in here. We’re meant to find it as a test, probably. I’d wager the big wigs got invitations that didn’t implode and there were instructions.”

Sounds about right for the asshole leaders of the crime organizations in this town.

“We’re supposed to see something in this huge empty space?” Archie asks, looking confused. He squints, then takes a deep sniff of the air, then his face lights up. “Maybe not see , but smell .”

“It may require various abilities to locate,” Javi says quietly. “We should follow Archie’s scent until there’s a lead, even if we’re walking in circles.”

“Fuck these pretentious assholes.”

Rebel’s statement is echoed across the group, but we take Javi’s suggestion, letting our big predator lead us around the space until he finally stops.

“Scent’s gone here. What’s next?” he asks.

Javier tilts his head, looking especially bird-like as he stands in place silently. “There’s a sound. It’s very faint and low-pitched. Do any of you hear it?”

Rogue shakes her head, then Reb and Archie do the same. “I don’t. But I might if I—” She gestures at her ears with a shrug. “Our senses sharpen when we aren’t covering our heritage.”

“Follow it,” I reply. “Angelo and I can’t hear it, so your turn to lead, Javier.”

The path winds as he tracks the sound, then stops in front of a pile of boxes that reveal a potted plant of dubious origin. That’s Rebel’s trick and once he encourages it to grow, it releases a series of hellfire balls Angelo and I can see. When we finally stop wandering around the space like morons, we’re in front of a feral-looking beast that looks like it’s going to attack us at any moment.

“Damn it.” Rogue’s voice is angry and we all look at Rebel to see why she’s gone completely tense from head to toe. The small beast makes a furious sound, and she turns to give all of us an apologetic expression. “This is for me. It’s a gytrash, and it’s gone feral. They want me to put it out of its misery; that’s why it’s my challenge.”

Rebel moves closer to her, taking her hand as he murmurs, “I could kill it.”

Her shoulder slump as she shakes her head. “No, that won’t work. It’s feral and you know they sent Unseelie with death magic after feral creatures beyond the Veil. It has to be me or we’ll involve the Hunt. That’s the last shit we need, Reb.”

I’d love to question that statement, but Rebel has stepped away from our girl and is gesturing for us to join him at a healthy distance. Rogue is still for a moment before she speaks in a language I don’t recognize, then her wings flap gently, spraying dust forward at the sick beast. It snarls and snaps, but within a few moments, it is on the ground. The air gets thicker as she chants in the foreign language until the dead creature glows brightly and disappears with a loud ‘crack.’

“That was really fucking weird, Wheels. What were you?—”

Archie’s question is cut off by a sparkling portal opening, and Tracer Finn coming out of it to give us a smug grin.

“Hola, amigos. Good job figuring out your shit. Now, get in here. I’ve got some people for you to meet before you face the wrinkly old assholes who want to speak to you. It’s pretty fucking urgent, so don’t give me any of your usual shit.”

We look at Rogue and Rebel, who both look ready to murder the heir to the aquatic motorcycle gang on the spot. Finally, Rogue waves her hand and her wings recede as she glares at Tracer. “You’re lucky my penchant for violence is sated at the moment. Lead us to the people you believe we need to speak with before we greet the royals—but it had better be good or I’m going to disembowel you, fish face.”

“Oh, it is, smart mouth. Trust me.”

I don’t care what this douchebag says—I don’t like this one fucking bit.