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T he car ride back to the mansion was taking forever. The ringing in Charlotte’s ears had dulled by the time Declan had gotten her to the SUV, which had been sitting behind an old petrol station, just as Roman promised. But her head had started pounding, the pain almost unbearable. On the drive back, Declan had stopped at a 7-Eleven, his concern for Charlotte making him ignore Roman’s orders to take her directly to his home.

“You can’t go in there. You’re covered in blood,” Charlotte said, looking him over.

Dry blood and dust from the exploding wall caked his hair, and he had no shoes or shirt. His bare chest had a coating of blood, dirt, and God knows what else.

“People will stare at you,” she added.

He shrugged his shoulders. “So?”

His carefree attitude and obliviousness to something that would immediately alarm a normal person reminded her again of the difference between these supernatural beings and herself. “They will ask questions or call the cops. Won’t it draw attention to… everything?” she asked, confused. She figured the whole point of this secret supernatural world was to, well, stay a secret.

Declan looked down at himself, seeming to realize how bad he looked, then peered into the back. He leaned over, pulling a backpack from the floor behind her seat.

“Charlotte, you need water and painkillers. I bet you a hundred bucks those angels don’t have any Advil or anything in that mansion. Most of them probably have no clue what the needs of a mortal are. A lot of immortals tend to forget things like that,” he told her as he opened the bag, throwing things over his shoulder into the back seat.

By the looks of it, the bag contained mostly weapons until he finally pulled a black shirt from the bottom of it.

Charlotte watched him drag the shirt over his head, covering his bloodied torso. She glanced over at the 7-Eleven and saw there was no one in there but the clerk behind the counter. She saw his point. Immortals probably didn’t even need pain meds. Why would Roman and the others need things like that when Armaros could heal them with a touch? Her head began pounding even harder, making her feel sick, and she winced, her hands coming up to her temples.

“See, there’s no argument about this, Charlotte. I’m going in there to get you what you need. I will be quick, in and out.”

“You don’t even have any money,” she argued.

He grinned at her, holding up a wallet.

“Where did you get that from?” she asked, eyes wide.

He laughed. “The bag.” He opened it and pulled out a black credit card. “We can thank a Mister Bradley Smith for our purchases tonight.”

Charlotte giggled, her head hurting as he showed her a picture of Grigori on a fake ID.

Declan watched her wince again, his smile fading. “I will be right back.” He got out of the car, locking it behind him as he jogged barefoot over to the store.

Charlotte watched him enter the store, then leaned back in the seat, shutting her eyes. Her head hurt, her ears throbbed, and her whole body ached. She’d never been through so much physical and mental abuse and just plain bullshit in her whole life. People had hit and hurt her so many times in the last week that she had lost count. Tora’s words came back to her as she tried to rest for a moment.

You have much to learn. It really is a shame you’re going to die, Charlotte. There is so much of the world you have left to explore .

She hated how true the witch’s words were. Charlotte realized that none of this was going to go away. Tora, the demons, Lucifer. They were going to keep coming for her, and they would never stop until she was dead. Ultimately, she was going to die. She couldn’t hide forever. Roman and the others couldn’t be expected to continually protect her and rescue her each time she was abducted. She refused to be locked up like a prisoner in Roman’s mansion forever, either.

Tora was right. Charlotte still had so much to learn about everything, about this whole new world she had been exposed to, which had been hiding in plain sight her whole life. Hell, she’d just found out tonight that werewolves were real, too. There really was an entire world out there for her to experience, explore, and so much more for her to discover and learn. And yet, somehow, she knew she wouldn’t get to do any of that. Not when she was doomed to die.

Charlotte sighed, exhaustion taking hold. On top of everything, she had gotten no closer to finding Ava. Tears threatened. She felt useless, frustrated that she couldn’t protect herself or Ava. Then, Roman’s angelic image flashed in her mind. He had promised to help her find her friend. The thought of Roman calmed her. The memory of him standing in that warehouse, his beautiful wings spread wide for her to see. She would never forget that image of him. Her body heated at the thought of him. His bare chest, his black wings shimmering in the lights, the way his large, warm body had circled her when he’d pulled her into his arms.

Charlotte’s body ached, but in a different way than the pain she had felt. She ached for that angel to touch her, to kiss her. She longed to touch Roman as well. Run her hands over his hard body, kiss those sinful lips. She couldn’t deny her attraction to him. She had never felt such a powerful attraction to anyone in her life. But then, she had never met anyone like Roman in her life, either.

Shocked by her arousal, she opened her eyes, overwhelmed by the mere thought of him. She had to get herself under control. She could see Declan making his way out of the 7-Eleven. Now that Charlotte had come back to reality, her body ached in two ways, making her more miserable than she was before.

Declan unlocked the car and jumped in, closing the door behind him. “Right, I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a few things.” He handed her a bottle of water and a pack of Advil.

Charlotte thanked him, ripping open the pack, taking out three tablets, and throwing them in her mouth. She opened the water and took a mouthful, swallowing the painkillers. The water felt icy cold as it slid down her throat, pushing the tablets down. She gulped down more, her thirst taking over. After she drank half the bottle, she wiped her mouth, placing the lid back on.

“Thank you, Declan.” She smiled, hoping the Advil would kick in soon.

He shrugged, handing her a shopping bag. “Don’t mention it. Here are some snacks. Like I said, I didn’t know what you liked, so I grabbed some random stuff. We aren’t far from the mansion now. I will get us something warm to eat when we get there.”

Charlotte took the bag as he started the SUV and pulled out onto the road again. She looked inside, her mouth watering at the array of junk food. There were packets of Sour Patch Kids, Peanut M we call them packs. Each pack has a leader that we follow. We are very loyal. I’d just been visiting my brother in Germany.”

“Why are they in danger now?” she asked, confused.

Declan held out his hand, wiggling his fingers for more M we call them Lycanthropes. They are purebloods. The strongest of our species. My brother fell in love with the daughter of the Lycanthrope that leads the pack in Germany. Their settlement has been a secret and untouched for thousands of years. Hidden away from the prying eyes of the world to keep the bloodline safe. Now, because of me, Tora and the demons know how to get there.”

Charlotte could see the torment in his eyes as they finally pulled through the gates and made their way up the driveway. “Declan, it’s not your fault. You must know that. You weren’t even conscious,” she told him as he parked the car in front of the mansion.

He gave a small shake of his head. “I was reckless and got caught. If I hadn’t, one of the oldest werewolf bloodlines in the world wouldn’t be in danger. Let alone the pack that lives here in Los Angeles. I fucked up, and I fucked up big time.” He got out of the car.

Charlotte followed him inside the mansion without saying a word. She could tell he was fighting some inner demons right now and didn’t want to add to his problems. Once inside, he made her a hot chocolate and then rummaged around in the kitchen. He found boxes of pepperoni and cheese Hot Pockets in the freezer and warmed them so they could eat.

She couldn’t help but smile at the odd sight of the two of them sitting at Roman’s marble table. They were both filthy, covered in dust and dried blood, eating Hot Pockets in silence.

“What are you smiling about?” Declan asked, devouring another one. He’d had six of them on his plate and had already demolished two of them.

“This,” she said, waving her hand back and forth between them. “Everything, really. Is it always like this? Is it always so chaotic and dangerous in your world?”

He shrugged. “Not all the time. But yes, I guess it is compared to the mortal world you’re used to. All the supernatural creatures have their own wars going on with each other. Old enemies and whatnot. Roman and the angels… it’s different, I guess. They’ve been fighting for so long. Longer than any of us have existed. They are trying to get home… back to the Heavens.”

Charlotte felt a pang in her chest at the thought of Roman leaving. She hadn’t thought about what the angels were doing here on Earth, why they were here. She remembered stories her Ya-Ya had told her about angels being kicked out of Heaven and punished to walk Earth for their misdeeds. But she had never paid much attention, always finding anything to do with The Bible and the stories quite boring. How she wished she could turn back time. Be with her grandmother again. Hear the stories she would tell.

“Will they leave one day? Get back into Heaven?” she asked.

Declan shrugged his shoulders again. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s possible. But I learned a long time ago that in this world, anything is possible.” Then, he smiled at her, picking up another Hot Pocket.

“Declan, can I ask you something?” she said between bites.

“Sure.”

“Why are you so nice to me? You don’t even know me.”

With everything that had happened lately, he had been the only one who had been kind to her from the get-go. No hidden agenda to hurt her or kill her. He had simply tried to help her and wanted to keep her safe.

Declan stared at her silently for a moment, his deep blue eyes filled with sadness. Then he gave her a small smile. “You remind me of someone. I had a little sister once. Sadly, she’s gone now, but you remind me a lot of her. I guess it brings out my protective side.” He shrugged, shoving the rest of the Hot Pocket in his mouth.

Charlotte smiled at him, her heart hurt over his loss, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but be grateful for his kindness during what had been such an exhausting rollercoaster of a week.

“Thank you,” she simply said, and then they sat there, silently eating the rest of their food, both lost in their own thoughts.