Hell on Wheels (Faetal Attraction #1)

Rogue

We follow the nattily dressed kraken through a crowd of glittering gowns and smartly dressed supes as he chatters to Angelo. I don’t give a shit what this dude has to say as I’m not in charge of shit and I have no inclination to make nice with the heir of one of the criminal enterprises in the area. Knowing that Angelo and Damon mating with me means I’ll have to care one day is bad enough; I’m not fucking starting now. Instead, I take in the scene carefully, looking for key players I want to be aware of. Pinpointing potential trouble is in my blood as a Guardian, even if I’m not active yet.

There are a lot of bad apples to keep my damn eyes on, too.

As we walk across the crowded foyer, I spot Merra Stuhll in a stunning black Chanel number, holding court with her cowardly husband and a cadre of minions. Just past her in another pocket of bad vibes are Mina and several of the Sickos…. plus Winnie. My ex is hanging on Mina like she’s waiting to be told to drop to her knees and make herself useful—a thought that makes me shudder and snicker to myself. Winnie wasn’t worth more than a few hook-ups for a reason, and it wasn’t just my previous inability to commit.

They all look like they had some avant garde designer try to fancy up punk-ish gear, but unfortunately for them, whoever it was sucked at it. Their outfits are out of place and getting a lot of snotty up-turned noses they seem not to notice. At least I’m outfitted properly for the event, as are my guys, so we won’t be shit on for looking like we’re fresh out of the mall Hot Topic.

Mina sneers when she catches my eyes, and I sigh internally. Seriously, this fucking chick is a mental case. She acted like a crazy person, and I set boundaries, to which she responded to by kicking me to the curb and screaming that I used her for fame. Not only is it completely untrue because she cut me out of every promotion and social media thing so only she was the focus, but she also did not even a sliver as much work building up the team as I did. Every strategy, idea, and implementation was mine—she just sat back and soaked up the glory as accolades rolled in. I put up with it because sometimes, you allow ‘friends’ to get away with shit you wouldn’t let anyone else get away with.

The only progress she’s made with the Sickos is keeping her whacko culty fans suckling at her teat, and whining whenever they don’t do what she wants. Her circus act will get tiresome eventually, and I’ll be excited to see it because I’m petty enough to enjoy the downfall she’ll bring on herself. However, I spend my days worrying about more important shit than this one narcissistic glory whore. I wish she’d do the same and fuck off into oblivion, so I never have to deal with her again. Unfortunately, she’s just cracked enough to keeping obsessing long after we’ve parted because she’s terrified I might be happy.

Newsflash, shitstain: I’m way happier without you than I ever was with you.

“What’s wrong, Sparkles?” Damon asks as he squeezes my arm. “I can feel that anger welling up through the bond.”

“Me, too,” Archie says as he rumbles from behind me. “And it’s hot AF, but we can’t do that here. Too many bogies and shit.”

I laugh as he uses practically ancient terminology to sound like he’s part of this scene. “Archie, babe, you don’t have to be anyone but exactly who you are. Don’t put on airs; no one here is worth that shit.”

“If they don’t like it, they can answer to us,” Reb says, his voice icy. “I figured that blast of rage was from seeing your shitty ex-BFF and her crew of rejects. That’s it, right?”

“Spot on, Reb,” I say as I tear my gaze from the idiots I’m going to avoid like a venereal disease. “I saw Merra, too.”

“My dad hates that bitch,” Tracer adds, grinning as he looks over his shoulder. “If she were less objectionable, I’d cozy up a bit to piss him off. Alas, it would be like fucking a sea urchin, so no thanks.”

The guys all chortle, and I roll my eyes. “I swear, men are so unoriginal. Not every minor act of vengeance has to involve your dicks. There are plenty of ways to screw with people that don’t require giving up your dignity.”

Rebel grins. “Rogue is a master at cascading slight inconveniences until people lose the plot. She’s done it most of her life to our faux parents. Once she knows the right levers, she just pulls them in succession until she ruins entire days, weeks, even longer if she’s mad enough.”

Tracer looks at me with an arched brow. “You did this to your parents?”

“Dude, most of my family,” I gesture at the guys and myself, “…have absolute trash bio donors. So yeah, I definitely did that and more as repayment for their bullshit neglect. Reb didn’t have to because he’s the golden Fae. And Archie’s pride is fucking amazing, so not him, either. But everyone else? We’re building the family we want together, not the one we were stuck with.”

The kraken looks thoughtful as he turns forward and ushers us out the back door to a garden. “Huh. I never really considered anything other than waiting for old shithead to croak.”

“Rogue is all about options,” Angelo says with a wicked grin and I snort before I go back to searching the crowd.

The alphas and various shifter leaders have their people out here—no surprise, nor is the Fae contingent being amongst the wilds. Oddly, the vampires are somewhere in the periphery as well, though I suppose they have as little desire as the animalian supes to be locked inside with no escape routes.

Where the fucking shit are the goddamned demons?

“No idea,” Angelo says, as if he’s reading my thoughts.

I glare at him, squinting as I look for any outcasts like trolls, orcs, goblins, and other non-affiliated supernaturals. Since my current enemies enjoy using proxies, I’d like to know if any of those fuckers are lingering around here. The problem is that they love hiding and, given the range in size for all the miscellaneous types, they could be damn near anywhere.

“I don’t like not knowing where everyone is,” I mutter to Damon. “This makes my ass twitch.”

“No fair,” Archie says in a low voice. “That’s my job.”

Damon smirks over at him. “And mine.”

Archie shuts up immediately, turning bright red as the other guys laugh. I turn to Javier, noting how quiet he’s been as we head to Timbuktu to meet these people Tracer says we have to speak to. The phoenix sighs and shakes his head, so I know he wants me to ask when we’re not joined by an extra person.

If his parents did something with my noticing, I’m going to find them and test how impervious to flame I am when I’m pissed.

“Tracer, who the hell are these damn people, and why are they tucked in a fucking corner just this side of Hell?” I ask.

He sighs. “You’re part of Society, so you probably heard about the jailbird coming to visit here, right?”

Angelo and Damon stiffen as Rebel grunts. I arch a brow at the rival heir as I nod. “Yes. The furloughed prisoner—though, I’m going to be honest, I think she got a raw deal—who was granted permission to travel to Bay City is a big topic at HQ.”

“Yeah, well, as it happens, I agree with you.” Tracer pauses in front of a large tent. “And more so now that she’s here with my little brother and a family that’s as full of celebs as yours.”

I blink. “Morgana LeCiel? The gargoyle who killed her fiance… is here with… boyfriends?”

A rich laugh echoes inside the tent, and the voice is amused as they reply. “Morgana LeCiel is here with mates and… I don’t fucking know what to call them other than ‘premates?’ Whatever works for you, but that’s what the deal is.”

Holy fuckbuckets.

I give my guys a confused look and we all exchange glances before I look at the kraken again. “Why do you want us to meet with them?”

“Because you and this snarky asshole are Guardians, smart mouth. The story my bro and his friends told me is pretty wild. They’re fairly certain something much bigger is going on, but no one will listen to Morgana because of who she is. The others would sound the alarm, but they have some interesting familial roadblocks, too.”

“Fine. But if we don’t like it, we’re out of here, Finn. I don’t care what kind of morons this prisoner has accompanying her.”

A huge, angry looking man that is definitely a goddamn dragon pokes hi head out of the tent. “You will address Prince Liam of the Daybreak Court with the reverence his title demands. I don’t care about the rest; call them whatever you please.”

“Zeus’ beard, Kaspar!”

I chuckle at the exasperated sound of the female voice and decide I’m probably going to like this woman. Looking at the shitty lizard, I wave my hand to reveal my Fae markings. “Speak to us with the respect we deserve as well, royal guardsman.”

His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “Dark Fae? No fucking way, Finn. I don’t care if Slade is your brother! Their assassins are part of Morrigan’s Hand and I’m not?—”

“Kaspar, allow them in. If it needs to be a command, it will be.”

That must be the Prince and I can’t help the smugness roiling through me at his acceptance. “Yeah, Kaspar, let us in.”

His eyes narrow and I just stand there, not letting him intimidate me. I don’t give a rat’s ass who this mythical serves; my reputation is sterling with my job. He can move or I will move him—which he will not enjoy in the slightest. He finally huffs and heads back into the tent, making room for my contingent to enter.

My eyes seek the infamous criminal, raking over her for a moment before I frown. “This woman did only what she had to as decreed by her species. The Society was wrong.”

“Not again,” Rebel says with a groan. “Rogue, you can’t just?—”

“No one tells me what I can and cannot say, bro,” I shoot back. “Not even our employers. Our people do not cotton to deception and lies as a species. The Prince has to know as surely as we do that this whole thing was a fucking load of shit.”

“Aye,” the handsome Prince says as he steps forward. “I’ve known since the beginning, but since we only have the sway of reps in the Society and Council, I can’t do a damned thing about it. My father is… less than forgiving to anyone not of our specific kind.”

“Very polite way of saying he’s a crusty old racist,” Javier says quietly. “I know how that is.”

The Prince gives him a knowing look, then turns to the rest of us. “My apologies for Kaspar. He’s aggressive at the best of times, but given that we’ve been dodging fire drakes and waspish follower of Morgana’s ex, his dander is up more than usual.”

The dark-haired beauty smiles crookedly at the Prince and I feel the affection from my spot just inside the doorway. “He’s still being diplomatic. Kaspar is a raging asshat to everyone but him, including me. It’s not you or your men. Please, come in and join us; have a seat so we can discuss the mess at my campus.”

“Thank you. I’m interested enough to join you for a bit if Tracer will take Javier to get drinks? I’m parched, and I didn’t expect to be accosted at the entrance to the damn party.”

Morgana grins at me, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, I like her, Tracer. You were right. I’d also enjoy a bourbon, though Kaspar will want to join them to make sure there are no issues with our drinks.”

The grumpy ass dragon glares at her, but once the Fae prince nods, he sighs and rolls his eyes. “Fine. Someone gather an order and I will go with the kraken and phoenix.”

He’s a supernatural tuning fork…. good to know. I’ll tuck that away for later.