“You believe this?” He motioned to Giselle who seemed to have passed out, head pillowed on her arms on the table.
Milly wiped at her eyes. “She’s never been wrong.”
Without another word, he turned and strode out of the house, the ice wind cutting through his clothes as he stepped outside. He grabbed some weapons from the root cellar, mostly blades, as he knew how to manage those.
Driving off the farm, he looked around at the quickly whitening landscape and the white flakes thick and heavy with moisture.
“Of all the days, Rylee.” His lips quirked as he said her name. She needed him, even if she couldn’t admit it. And that sat just fine with him. Just fine, indeed.
*-*-*-*
“Alex, get back on your side!”
He did as I asked, though he continued to bounce in his seat, actually rocking the Jeep from side to side. His breath fogged up the windows something fierce.
I cracked my window and said, “Roll down your window, Alex.”
“Snow, snow, snow, snow!” He chanted, not bothering to keep his volume down as he scrambled with his window, rolling it halfway down, a blast of cold air filling the Jeep.
Unfortunately, he was bang on. The white stuff had been falling steadily for over three hours and the road crews seemed to be taking the day off. There was a thin goat trail for vehicles where there should have been two full lanes. The other side of the highway didn't look any better. We should have been into Bismarck already, but we were maybe halfway at best. Shit, I was going to miss my appointment.
Windshield wipers on high, the snow was so heavy it was like driving through a swirling fog, and I leaned forward to get a better view. Middle of the day, lights on, and I still couldn’t see where the hell I was going. Not a good start to this little trip.
The wind blew hard, throwing the Jeep sideways. Fighting the steering wheel, I cursed under my breath. Immune, I might be, unable to be turned into anything furry or blood sucking, and a Tracker of children using my innate abilities. But, I could still be killed. And driving in bad weather like this was not one of my talents. It was the only downside to living where I did, in my opinion.
“Come on,” I grumbled at the weather. Anger was easier to hang onto than fear. Better in this case, ‘cause being afraid would only give me more trouble.
“Come on,” Alex grumbled, shaking a fist at the windshield. Shit, that werewolf made me laugh. I hated to admit he was one of the best things that had ever wandered into my life.
And what about O’Shea? Well, I didn’t think stalking me for ten years counted as ‘wandering into my life.’
Besides, he’d been hanging with Milly; they were lovers, while he and I were . . . what the hell were we? Not friends, not enemies, something in between. Fifty shades of grey, my ass; there were at least a thousand, if you asked me.
My heater took that moment to kick off and within moments the cab filled with icy cold air. Alex didn’t mind, his thick coat perfectly suited to the weather, but a sharp pang in my chest shot through me. I tried to draw a breath, struggled to get a gulp of the cold air. What was happening? I took my foot off the gas pedal, let the Jeep start to slow down on its own as I fought the now crushing pain in the middle of my chest. Each breath I took rattled in my throat, as if I were sucking in water as well as air. Hands clenching the steering wheel, I tried to pull over, but my muscles wouldn’t respond, my foot not even reacting when I made an attempt to lift if off the gas pedal. A flicker of an image danced in front of the Jeep.
The last salvage I’d completed involved a demon. We’d fought, I’d beaten it with a little help from my friends, but it had nailed me with its stinger before dying. The demon’s antennae twitched in the wind, its black body standing out in the white snow. Shaped like an ant standing upright with a scorpion tail arcing over its head, I knew the thing could fight, but we’d sent it back to where it’d come from. Hadn’t we? Shit, I thought we’d killed it. Maybe not.
The demon faded out from in front of the Jeep and I let out a breath, forcing the air from my lungs. I must have been seeing things, my eyes playing tricks on me. Like an asthma attack, I struggled for each breath, but pushed on driving. If I stopped here, there was a good chance we’d not be found until morning and if the temperatures dropped, well, let’s just say I had no intention of being a Popsicle anytime soon.
Alex started to bark, a high-pitched sharp, fear-filled staccato that burst through the fog of whatever was happening to me.
“Rylee, Rylee, Rylee!”
I opened my eyes, unaware I’d even closed them. Right in front of us was a grater, horn blowing as I drove straight toward it.
I yanked the steering wheel hard to the left. The Jeep slewed around the larger vehicle and into the deep snow on the side of the road.
“Fuck!”
The edge of the road disappeared into whiteness when the Jeep hit something hard, snapping it up, flipping us ass over tea kettle. The world seemed to go still as we floated for a brief moment, and I fought to stay conscious.
We landed hard, but the snow partially cushioned us—the only good thing to happen so far. Groaning, I hung upside down in my seatbelt, the material digging into my chest, increasing the pressure on my sternum, driving me to the brink of blacking out. The cold filled me, but not numbing me. Cold fire raced through my veins, my body spasmed.
Alex whimpered, licked my hand, but I couldn’t stop the tremors. I had no control over my own body. Only my eyes would do as I commanded and that didn’t exactly help. The windshield was caved in and I stared at the white snow, again the image of the demon dancing in front of me. Laughing.
“Bastard.” I coughed and spit at the snow. Blood flecked the white, my lip split from hitting the steering wheel.
“Alex, go,” I said, my voice a bare whisper.
“No, stay with Rylee,” He leaned forward to put his face close to mine, balancing on the steering wheel and hitting the horn before settling off to one side. I wanted to cover my ears, but couldn’t even lift my hands. Was I paralyzed? Now that would seriously screw up my life.
Dark spots and bright lights swirled in my vision. In desperation I reached out with my abilities to the one person I knew I could hang onto.
Tracking O’Shea was easy, his mind an open book to me. And he was a hell of a lot closer than I’d expected.
He was close enough that his emotions were right inside my head, less than a hundred feet away. Confusion, anger and worry were at the front of the line and they swamped me with their intensity. Pulling back from him, I tried to lift my hand, to no avail. “Alex. Horn. Hit it.”
Alex reared up and jammed both front paws onto the horn, the sound jarring my senses. Nausea rolled over me and vertigo hit me hard, made me want to throw up.
The dark of unconsciousness swallowed me whole between one breath and the next. Distantly, I could feel hands on my body, a voice I knew speaking softly to me. But what I was seeing inside the darkness held my attention.
I’d met this one before, on the other side of the Veil, after we’d rescued India. He stood watching me, an eyebrow quirked up into his hairline. Crystal clear blue eyes regarded me. “You have yet to even ask my name.”
I frowned. “I don’t care what your name is.”
He smiled. “You may call me Faris. Will you speak with me?”
The darkness seemed to shift around us, putting me only a few feet away from him. I tensed, confused by the feeling of hands on me while I could see that he hadn’t touched me. “I think I’ll pass.” The thing was, I couldn’t turn away from him; my body still wasn’t obeying me.
He tipped his head to one side and stepped closer to me. “The demon that struck you was a Hoarfrost demon. It is designed to turn its carrier into an epicenter for a new ice age. Of course, that only works if the venom can be assimilated. Not the case with you. However, it is slowing you down. Until you deal with it, the cold will follow you, make you vulnerable to all sorts of nasty things.” He leane
d closer, his breath brushing across my cheek.
Panic clawed at me. “No, I’m an Immune. I can’t be killed by venom.”
“I didn’t say it would kill you, not the venom at least. But it’s hurting you nonetheless, and the side effects of it, they could kill you. You aren’t immune to hypothermia. It makes you vulnerable, unable to defend yourself. I quite like the change in you.” He lifted a hand and brushed it across my cheek, then down to my bottom lip, tugging at it.
I jerked my head away, the only part of me I seemed to have control over. “Why would you tell me this?”
“I want us to be friends.”
Laughing, I threw my head back. “That’s why you tried to kill me?”
Faris smiled at me, a glimpse of fangs coyly peeking out from beneath thin lips. “You’d upset me. I hadn’t expected you to turn from me as you did. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a woman turn me down?”
“Obviously not long enough.”
Ghost hands slid over my skin and I shivered recognizing O’Shea’s touch. Then those hands that were being so gentle slapped my face, snapping my head to one side.
Faris laughed. “I will tell you one thing because I want you to trust me. There is a way to purge the demon venom. Ask Doran, he will explain. Until then, try to stay warm. Or you could wait for it to run its course, hiding somewhere the snow never flies. That might take a few years.” He lifted his hand, fingertips brushing lightly along my jaw line. “Even Immunes can be hurt, Rylee. Remember that.”
He gave me a slow smile and I glared at him. Not exactly an effective deterrent.
“Perhaps we will speak another time.” He was suddenly holding me tight, his lips above mine, fangs extended. Panic clawed at me; I couldn’t fight, couldn’t even begin to push him away.
I screamed, pushing all my energy toward shoving him away, and a bright light burst beside us. It was his turn to scream, fleeing from the bright pulsing light as I crumpled to the ground.
Hands caught me, a face I saw only in my dreams hovering over me.
“Berget,” I whispered. She smiled down at me, blue eyes sparkling with love and laughter.
“Rylee, be careful. Faris wants you badly, and he will do anything to gain your trust. This one time, though, he is right. Go to Doran.”
This was not like the dreams I had with her in them. This was real; she was here with me.
“I can’t find you,” I said, tears choking me. “I keep trying but . . .”
She shushed me. “I know. I don’t blame you. This is no one’s fault. This is destiny. You will understand in time.” Leaning over me, she kissed me on the forehead and I opened my eyes to see O’Shea leaning over me.
“Adamson!”
I managed a weak, “Hey.” Then I promptly closed my eyes. I wasn’t out of it, I just couldn’t look at his face, see the worry and concern there. I didn’t want to feel anything right now. My emotions were a jumble of my own and O’Shea’s, and I was struggling to separate them. What had happened when I blacked out? Had I really spoken with Berget? Was she alive somewhere? Was Faris really able to contact me when I was unconscious? That would not be good.
A cold, wet nose jammed into my ear.
“Alex scared.”
O’Shea lifted me up like I was nothing, cradling me against his chest. The world tilted as he walked, and I could hear sirens in the distance.
“We have to go,” I mumbled. “I’m okay, I just need to warm up.”
O’Shea didn’t stop moving. “You were in a car accident, you are not okay.”
“Not the accident. The demon. From before.” Hating that Faris was the one to cue me into my problem, I could now feel the venom pumping through my system. It was slowing everything down, making it hard for me to keep breathing. There had to be a way to get it out of me, but I didn’t want to believe Doran was my only hope. Milly didn’t deal with demons; she wouldn’t know what to do anymore than I did. Shit, I didn’t want to believe Faris, to trust he was telling me the truth, but it wasn’t looking like I had any choice.
O’Shea’s arms tightened around me, then relaxed as he slid me into the back seat of his SUV. I tried to sit up.
“Lay down. Alex, here, get in beside her.” A damp, but warm body pressed up against mine, his head resting on my legs.
I forced my eyes open. “I need to get warm, the venom . . .”
That was it, my strength was done.
4
“Adamson?” He tried to wake her, but she was out, her face as white as the snow around them. “Shit.”
He glanced around. “Alex, stay here.” The werewolf did as he was told, and O’Shea went back to the flipped over Jeep and grabbed Rylee’s bag of gear. No doubt she’d be wanting it when she woke up.
Tossing the bag into the passenger side, he slammed the door shut and got into the driver’s seat. Training told him to wait on the paramedics that were on their way. He’d seen the skid marks and the grater driver had been freaking out on the side of the road, already calling for help. But Rylee’s words were on repeat. He was a, more or less, by-the-books agent. Going off the rails to help her on the last case was a one-time deal for him.
A tap on his window stopped his flow of thoughts. It was the grater driver. O’Shea didn’t bother to roll down his window. He had the heat cranked up in the hopes it would help whatever was going on with Adamson.
A wrinkled up face, partially covered by a dirty grey scarf, pushed against the window. “Hey, you can’t take her with you! She was in an accident, man.”
“I’m an FBI agent and I can take her into custody if I damn well want to.” O’Shea snapped back, put the SUV into gear and putting his foot on the gas pedal before he thought better of it.
Trust was not an easy thing for him, but he trusted Rylee’s judgment, even in her half-frozen state. If she said all she needed was to get warm, then that was what he would do. One way or another, he would get her to trust him.
The snow continued to fall heavily, and with its deepening state whatever had a hold on Adamson continued to worsen. Her breathing laboured, and if it was possible, her face paled even more. O’Shea glanced over his shoulder as Alex whimpered and rubbed his face on her legs.
“Bad medicine.”
“Alex, how warm is she?”
In the rear view mirror Alex tipped his head. This was not the time to have the werewolf not understand what he wanted. He simplified it.
“Is Rylee warm?”
Alex snuffled around for a moment. “No.” Then he shook his whole body, rubbing his claws up and down his arms. “Cold. Icy queenie.”
Shit.
He couldn’t make the SUV any warmer. Already, he second guessed what he’d done, taking her away from the paramedics, hospitals, and the ability to have her warmed up medically.
She let out a groan. “Please. Don’t hurt her.”
“Adamson? I need you to wake up. Now!” O’Shea caught Alex cringe out the corner of his eye in the rear view mirror.
“No yelling.” The werewolf whimpered.
How long would he have before she was past being able to help? At the next exit, he pulled off, searching for a place to get her warm.
The blinking lights of a cheap, cheesy motel flashed from out of the white blanket pulled over the world. Good enough. He skidded to a stop, the SUV sliding on the slushy snow. He stared up at the sign. It was one of Rylee’s usual stops, one he’d followed her to more than once while trying to prove her guilt. Leaving the vehicle running, the heat on full blast, he ran to the motel door, stomping off the snow when he stepped inside.
O’Shea got a key from the motel clerk who was wearing a beat up old cowboy hat, his legs up on the registration desk.
“You got a dog too?” The old man asked, squinting out at the SUV, a large canine-like head clearly visible. Damn it all.
“Yes. Is that going to be a problem?”
The owner shrugged. “Long as he don’t wreck anything. I only ever let one ot
her person have their dog in here. She’s a hell of a lot cuter than you though.” Laughing, the old man shuffled around the edge of the desk. “Good day to hunker down. Ring me up if you need anything.”
“Actually, have you got any salt?”
Lifting his eyebrows, the old man reached under the desk and O’Shea tensed. But all he brought out was a wooden salt shaker. “This do?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
O’Shea shook his head and made his way back to the SUV, fighting the cold wind the whole way. After scooping Adamson up, and with Alex tight on his heels, he jogged to the room, lucky number 13. It looked as though it had been repaired recently. Shoving the door open, he hip-checked it shut behind them. The muted darkness felt muffled from the outside, snow falling steadily, blocking out much of the daylight.
After laying Rylee out on the bed, he put two fingers to her neck. Her pulse was irregular and barely discernible, not to mention her skin was ice cold and clammy. He strode to the thermostat and cranked it up full blast, then stripped off his trench coat.
“Alex, go turn the heat up in the bathroom.” The werewolf bounded off, claws clacking on the linoleum when he hit it.
“Yuppy doody, gots it!”
Shaking his head, O’Shea took a deep breath. “I’m doing this to help you, Adamson.” A large part of him was hoping she would wake up, give him hell, and then they could be off on their way. But no such luck.
Moving quickly, trying not to think about what he was doing, O’Shea stripped her down. He couldn’t help it, but his eyes tracked the scars on her body. From the fresh one on her left arm, to the ones across her hips, stomach and legs, he took it in. She had not had an easy life, yet still she fought to help others. And he’d been the ass standing in her way.
Again, focusing just on what needed to be done, he scooped her back into his arms. The shock of her nearly blue cold flesh could be felt through his shirt and set his heart hammering. “Come on, Adamson. Get mad at me. Yell. Give me something.”
She was silent; her auburn hair a bright splash of color against her pale skin, the dark eyelashes against her cheeks a deadly contrast.
Immune: A Sexy Urban Fantasy Mystery (Rylee Adamson # 2) Page 3