RYLEE (The Rylee Adamson Epilogues, Book 1)

by Shannon Mayer

  He sat up. “Then go. We’ll be okay here. You know that.”

  I got off the couch, turned to walk away, but he took my hand, caressing it between his. “Find yourself, Rylee.”

  His words stunned me into stillness, and I shook under the knowledge that he knew me perhaps better than I knew myself. I still asked, though. “What do you mean?”

  “You lost a piece of yourself in the battle, and it wasn’t just Alex or your lineage. Something . . . only you can find. I think this is your chance to do that. And when you do, come home. But make it quick,” he stood and kissed me again, a fierce demanding kiss I couldn’t deny, “because I want to hold you in my arms, in our bed, and know you are happy there. That you want to be there with me.”

  I turned from him. I couldn’t hold back the tears as I strode away. “I will always want to be with you.”

  He was right. Something was missing in me. But unlike him, I didn’t have much hope I would find it. I worried instead I would find that dark side of me swelling up, taking over what and who I was piece by piece until I was nothing but a blood sucking demon.

  There was no arguing with me on that either. Doran had tried. I pointed out that he hadn’t stayed with his family when he’d been newly turned, that he hadn’t had to learn his control while he had his hands on those he loved. That had shut him up.

  It was hard to have hope when such a large piece of my heart had been ripped away when I’d lost so much. “Let’s get my shit together, and then get Daisy over here. Snack time is in less than an hour and then you’re going to be wishing I’d stayed.” I said the words I was supposed to but didn’t really feel them. Liam was right, I wanted to run away, to escape the feeling I was not good enough. That I didn’t fit in this family, this pack, anymore.

  In a matter of minutes, I had a bag put together. The process kept my mind from dwelling on the things that drove me. Nothing extraordinary, just the usual weapons, a few spell bombs Pamela had been working on, an extra set of clothes, a flask full of Liam’s blood. I swallowed hard as the saliva worked up in my mouth at the thought of his blood, the distinct flavor that gave me a high, an almost orgasmic experience every time I put it on my tongue.

  I struggled to get past the sudden gag reflex; that was the old me, revolted at the thought of drinking down my husband. Blood as a source of energy wasn’t really something I was cool with. I could still eat food and drink normal things. But it was blood that gave me the boost, strength, and power of a vampire. The blood that allowed me to do all sorts of freaky assed things like climb buildings and use influence on people. (That’s the charm shit that vampires did, but no one outside of vampires and daywalkers was supposed to know the term).

  Worse though was that it was beyond addictive. I could pretend all I wanted, but the desire for blood was something I couldn’t get away from. I’d not told Doran. What would I say? I love blood and fucking can’t stop wanting it? And he’d say welcome to being a vampire.

  I snorted and finished packing my bag. I grabbed a picture of the eight of us taken a short time before. Liam, Pamela, me, and the five babies. We were smiling, all of us, but I could see it in my face. Fighting for control.

  I stuffed the picture into my bag, then walked down the hall. I peeked in on the babies, ran a hand over each tiny head, pressing my fingers to my lips and then theirs. A year ago, there was no way I would’ve believed I’d be raising not only my own child, but four more. And that I’d love each of them as if I’d given birth to them. I told myself I would be back. That I wasn’t leaving them.

  But I was so afraid I was lying to myself, hiding from the truth that the darkness would take me, and I would hurt those I love in a fit of blood lust. That I would drain them and wake satiated next to their tiny lifeless bodies. The image was all too real and terrifying to me.

  I backed out as Kav opened his eyes. Blue eyes, blue as a summer sky and just as bright, watched me go. He raised a hand and wiggled his fingers at me before he cuddled deeper into his brothers’ arms. I would not cry. I wouldn’t.

  I headed to the kitchen, looking for my keys. On the fridge was a piece of paper with an address and name on it. The address is what I focused on. Burnside was across town. I pulled the paper off and tucked it into my jacket. “Where are my keys?”

  Liam tossed me a set I didn’t recognize at first. “Try not to wreck it.”

  I frowned at him. “It’s mine. I’ll do what I like to it.”

  He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his short blond hair. “Try. It’s brand new. I’d like to keep it that way for a while.”

  I grimaced, grabbed my swords from where they hung at the back door and slid the sheath over my head. Liam helped me settle it on and handed me my weapons. I didn’t slide them into the sheaths, not for driving.

  “I love you, Rylee. No matter what you are, no matter where you go, this will always be home.”

  “Yeah, you have to say that. Married, remember?”

  He grabbed me and tugged me in tightly for a hard kiss that left me breathless. Which is saying something for a daywalker.

  “Go find that kid. Find what you need to find for yourself. And get home to the babies and me. I don’t want you gone a minute longer than you have to.”

  The banter between us was as familiar as ever and made it easier to pretend I wasn’t running away.

  “Maybe I’ll go for a longer trip. You’ll appreciate me more,” I called over my shoulder.

  His laughter followed me. “And let you have all the fun? I think not.”

  All the fun. Yeah, there was that aspect of the life we led. Even I could admit it. Though how we lived, was at times, hard and death defying, and we’d lost friends and loved ones. There was an element of something else, too.

  A sense of excitement that caught hold of me even in my deepest moments of fear, even in my moment of uncertainty about the future. I gripped the edge of my jacket with one hand and my bag with the other.

  “I’m coming for you, kid,” I whispered, a sense of déjà vu settling over me. “Hang on.”

  CHAPTER 2

  MY NEW RIDE was . . . wait for it . . . a Jeep. I ran my hands over the slick dark blue metal. The newest model, all the bells and whistles, right down to the GPS tracking program I could tap into if I got lost or was in an accident. I slid into the leather driver’s seat and clipped on the seatbelt. There wasn’t a single scratch on the Jeep, inside or out. Liam had it delivered the day before. I’d not even had a chance to drive it, yet.

  I didn’t ask where he’d gotten the money for the vehicle, and really it didn’t matter. I trusted he hadn’t stolen the money. No matter how much of Faris he carried around inside his head, he would never be anything other than a good guy. Always the cop out to see justice served and make sure the bad guys were taken care of. He just didn’t have it in him to go to the dark side.

  I winced. One more reason I didn’t share with him my thoughts. He’d survived his stint with Faris, of all people, influencing him.

  I put the key in the ignition. Nothing happened, the engine didn’t even try to turn over. I twisted the key again and the lights on the dash flickered once, twice, and then went out. “Motherfucker.” I slapped the steering wheel and got out, disappointed and irritated at the same time. This was the problem with a newer vehicle. Too many electronics for my supernatural aura to mess around with and make things decide just to fuck off in the middle of working.

  “Test drive next time, Liam,” I grumbled. “Always test drive.” He was still learning the ropes. I couldn’t be that upset.

  I walked over to a vehicle with a bright blue tarp thrown over it. I grabbed one edge and yanked it off. My Jeep, the one I’d had for years. The black paint was scuffed and sides dented, the back windshield was gone, the front was cracked like a spider’s web on speed. The door screeched in protest as I slid into the driver’s side. The scent of wet wolf hit my nose as if Alex were still sitting with me, staring at me with big golden eyes and his tongu
e hanging out.

  If that were the case, maybe I’d not be where I was. I knew Alex was a huge part of my heart. He’d helped me find the softness I’d needed no matter how bad things seemed.

  Then again, maybe he was with me. The thought gave me pause. The Veil was closed to the seventh level, to where the demons were kept. But that didn’t mean Alex was trapped there.

  “I wish you were here, buddy.”

  I almost thought I heard a soft woof in response. Almost.

  I jammed my key in the ignition a little harder than necessary and backed the Jeep out of the driveway, spinning the wheel fast in one direction to get turned around.

  I wanted to believe that the sooner I left, I would be back. I stared at the house and saw Liam in the window, Marcella in his arms. I could see her eyes focus on me, so dark, just like her father’s had been when I first met him. He lifted a hand and she mimicked him.

  Liam was right. I had to find myself, to find my place in this world, whatever it took. That sense of purpose rolled through me and I straightened in my seat. “I will come back. Somehow. I promise you.”

  With my foot to the floor on the pedal, I sped through town toward the house of the missing girl. Unlike when I’d been a Tracker, I was having to start at the beginning now, right where the kid first disappeared. I had to see if I could find details and clues left behind, see if there was something the police missed. Maybe it was a supernatural case and there were things the police wouldn’t have understood as being clues.

  My muscles tightened at the thought of screwing up a salvage because I no longer was a Tracker. Of not bringing home the girl because I didn’t really have it in me anymore to do the only job I’d ever known. I stared straight ahead, my mind whirling with a million things, like lightning bugs dancing in the sky, dodging my grasp.

  Around me, the world flicked by in images and snapshots. People walking on the street, driving the other direction, going about their lives, not seeing the supernatural right in front of their eyes. Like the two brownies I saw step out of the bakery. Yeah, bad combination, brownies and all, walking out of a bakery. I smiled and lifted a hand. I recognized Charlie, my friend and protector of Zane. When I’d needed him the most, Charlie had been there to stand with me, right down to the battle against Orion.

  He waved at me to pull over and I slid the Jeep to the curb. I leaned across the ripped pleather seat and opened the passenger side door. Charlie grinned up at me, his face lit with pleasure and a fair smear of some sort of jelly on his cheek. Whatever he’d been eating, it looked like he’d at least enjoyed it.

  “How the feck are you, Rylee girly?”

  “Not too fecking bad.” I smiled at him. “What are you doing out here?”

  He held up a paper bag. “Best damn pastries I done ever hads. But you,” he pointed at the bag on the seat beside me, and put a finger to it exposing some of the items, “you look you be doing a salvage.”

  I gave him a quick nod. “Yeah. I am.”

  His bushy brows raised and he tapped his wooden leg on the bottom edge of the Jeep. “And? You weren’t going to ask me to field calls anymore?”

  “This is a one-off, Charlie. I’m not a Tracker anymore. I’m just doing this one.” I leaned away from him, not wanting him to see anything in my eyes that would give me away.

  “But that don’t change your heart, do it? Not a Tracker don’t mean shit. Yous still wants to be out there, finding kids. I know yous.” He pointed a finger at me. “I’ll get the word out that you be taking cases on heres and theres. Specialty cases.”

  “Don’t do that. I’m not sure—”

  He pulled a chocolate chip cookie out of his bag and handed it to me. “Here, eat this and stop talking. Yous knows I bees right.”

  I took the cookie with a laugh. “Thanks, Charlie. You’re kind of a shit when you want to be, aren’t you?”

  With a grin, he flourished his hand out in front of him like an old-time knight at court. “And if you need me help, you knows where to finds me. ”

  I saluted him with the cookie and he slammed the door shut. I put the cookie on the console beside me and picked up the piece of paper with the address on it: 4872 Burnside. Family name, Johnson, kid’s name Belinda, father’s name Daryl.

  Holding the paper between two fingers I wove my way through a tiny subdivision and ended up in a cul-de-sac. The home of the kid was two stories with a good sized attic in the peak if the window above the second floor was any indication. That was what drew my attention more than anything else. Like I was just waiting for a little pair of tiny hands to press against the glass, begging to be saved. I shivered. The house itself was normal, nothing special. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that it held secrets waiting to be uncovered. I didn’t like it one fucking bit.

  There was a compact red car in the driveway I parked behind it, blocking it in. Just on principle. What the principle was, I’m not sure, and that made me smile.

  Leaving the majority of my weapons in the Jeep, I headed to the front door. I made myself take a deep breath and try to identify the smells around me. Fresh paint, some sort of cleaner that irritated my nose, the scent of at least two different cats and a bird. No supernatural smells that I could pick up on. A piece of me uncoiled, looking for any hint of blood. I forced it down and raised my hand to knock on the door.

  The sound of feet thumping toward me made me think the person was closer than they were. The reality was they took a long time to get to me. I just could hear them coming way the fuck off now.

  I tried not to hunch my shoulders. These were my abilities now. I had to get used to using them. I had to learn to make them work for me instead of feeling like a fraud when they showed me something I wouldn’t have otherwise seen or heard. And I had to get them under control, so I didn’t end up hurting anyone. I would not do that. Not to those I loved.

  The door cracked open and a man with a raggedy head of brown and gray hair that was far too long and obviously unwashed looked at me through fatigue-rimmed eyes. A burn on the side of his face gave him a dark and scarred look. The mark wasn’t new, but it wasn’t years old either. “I ain’t buying your shit.”

  Pleasant. “I ain’t selling you shit. You want help finding your kid or not? You are Daryl, aren’t you?”

  He blinked several times and looked me up and down. “You a cop?”

  My jaw ticked. “Did you or did you not ask for help finding your kid?”

  “Cops said she ran the fuck away. That she’s a little whore. And I agree. She’s just like her mom. Blood runs true, you know. Whore to whore. Slut to slut.” His eyes glanced at someone inside behind the door. “Won’t be surprised when this little bastard here starts knocking girls up. Then again, I think he might like dick over pussy.” He started to shut the door, but another set of hands grabbed the edge and a new face peered out. A boy, young man maybe was a better age guess based on the fact his sister was sixteen and he was apparently the older of the two.

  “Rylee Adamson?” He breathed my name.

  Here we go. So daddy dearest wasn’t the one who’d called me. Great. “O’Shea now, but yeah. That’s me. You the one who called?”

  The kid pushed past his father, nodding. He had the same brown hair as his dad, but his eyes were pale hazel, almost a gold. Which made me think of Alex. Damn it, it was like the werewolf was with me wherever I went.

  “Yeah, I called. I . . . my sister didn’t run away. I know she didn’t. Not this time.”

  “This time?” Shit. So she was a perpetual runaway. No wonder the cops weren’t giving her any time. They didn’t have the resources to chase down kids known to them as runaways. Not when there were legitimate cases that needed their attention and energy.

  I made eye contact with him. “What’s your name?”

  “Levi. I . . . my sister wouldn’t run away. Not this time. I know it.” His lips trembled and his eyes filled with tears.

  Behind him, his dad snorted. “Fucking pussy. Grow the fuck up an
d find your balls. Your sister isn’t your friend.” And then he hit his kid in the back of the head, hard. The thump sounded like he’d hit him with a club, and the distance Levi flew was enough to send him into my arms. I caught him easily, the force of his fall spinning us sideways.

  “Oh, that is not cool.” I sat Levi so he leaned against the porch railing. “You wait here. Your dad and I are going to have a little chat.”

  Levi’s eyes rolled as he passed out. All the better. I didn’t really want a witness for what I was about to do. The dark side of me flickered to life as I strode forward. Not dark like kick ass. Dark like tear throats out and bathe in the blood.

  Daryl saw me coming and shut the door in my face. I lifted one foot and slammed it into the knob, busting the door open wide. The edge caught the side of his face and sent him backward. Blood burst from where the door hit him.

  “I’m calling the police, you psycho bitch!” he screamed. I leapt toward him, over underestimating my ability. I sailed past him, landing ten feet on the other side of his prone form. Crouched inside his kitchen, pressed against a food-splattered cupboard, I snarled at him and shot forward. Control, I had no control over what I was doing, my body seemingly powered by something else.

  He screamed a high-pitched scream that resembled a small girl being teased on the playground. I slapped my hand over his mouth and grabbed his neck with the other hand. He pawed at me, his hands slapping at my leather jacket and jeans. I took a long slow breath as I struggled to calm my desire to pull his head right the fuck off.

  “You and I are going to come to an understanding. Right. Fucking. Now.” I smiled down at him. “I don’t give a flying monkey shit about you. But if you strike either of your kids again, I will notice you. And you don’t want me to notice you. Capiche?” I smiled wide enough for my fangs to be visible. He blanched and the scent of urine floated around me. I pushed off him, my lip curling. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

  He scrabbled back from me. “You aren’t going to drink my blood?”