Page 92 of Hell Fae Captive

A group of warrior-like females lurked near the shimmering magic, their weapons flashing beneath the bright suns. Their toned muscles revealed that they were definitely in shape as they faced the Centaurs with their blades and bows drawn.

I ran right for them and ducked as they took fire at the Centaurs chasing after me.

“My weapon isn’t working!” one girl shouted as she fired her pistol over and over at a Centaur.

I noted that the creature had a white aura around it. The being snorted at me and then at her with disdain before moving on, making me frown.

I wasn’t the one who’d chased him.

Nor was I the one to fire at him.

Yet he snorted at me like I was beneath his hoof?

How unreal,I marveled, ducking again as more weapons fired over my head toward the group of Centaurs.

“There’s another!” someone shouted, sniping one of the creatures between its red eyes.

It didn’t even have time to release a death cry. It simply thudded over dead, its massive body crashing to the ground, its black aura fading.

At least some of them can be killed.

The thought seemed to register with the others in his group, because many of them paused to consider the girls ahead of them. I took advantage of their distraction to keep running while processing the varying auras.

It seemed those with darker signatures could be killed.

The others could not.

I filed that information away as I darted up toward the candidates decked out with gear. “Hey!”

I spotted a familiar silver-haired fae with obsidian irises.

Feyre.

She frowned at me as another shoved herself into my face. “Heyyourself. We are the Elites, and we aren’t taking any new recruits, so get out of our way or we’llmakeyou get out of our way.” She ended her statement with a snap of her fingers right in my face.

Well, that was quite the speech.

I raised an eyebrow at the female with slick, tied-back black hair. A red streak ran down the middle, giving her a punkish appearance that I found begrudgingly cool.

Glancing at Feyre again, I gave her a look that I hoped said,And who is this bitch?

We weren’t exactly friends, but we had met.

Of course, that meeting had ended with her throwing a dagger at me. So, yeah, we were definitely not friends at all. Just acquaintances at best.

However, her lips quirked up a little on the side.

But she didn’t make a move to help me.

Not surprising.

The punk chick snapped her fingers again, making me decide to name her “Queen Bitch” since no one wanted to provide an introduction.

Definitely not welcome here, then.

“Move on before I make you move on,” she threatened.

Throwing my hands up, I took two steps backward. “Not looking for allies or a problem. Just looking for the exit.”