Jogging into the kitchen, I dialed Charlie’s number on my old rotary phone, the tick of the dial clicking softly as it spun around with each number.
He answered with a “Hello, me lassie! No new salvages for yous. Good and bad, eh?”
“Right now it’s a good thing. Charlie, come on over, I need someone to clink glasses with.”
He let out a shout. “Gods be praised, yous going to start drinking!”
Laughing, I cradled the phone against my shoulder. “Don’t get excited, I’ll be drinking orange juice.”
“Bah, you don’t know what you be missing, lassie. But I’ll be there in a jiff.”
I hung up and two minutes later there was a knock on the door. That was one of the things about Brownies. They could use doorways and windows as jumping points. Pretty handy, if you asked me.
Dressed in blue jeans and a button down shirt, he sported a black bowler that truly did not match the long fur coat he wore. Open, of course, like he’d thrown it on and scrambled to get here. Then again, it could have been because he was trying to hide the fact he was missing a leg. It had happened a long time before I’d ever met him and he wouldn’t talk about it. Not even when he got drunk on ogre beer.
Charlie was about three feet tall, and I scooped him up easily into a hug.
“What the hells has happened to yous, lassie?” He grunted as I put him down. His eyes searched my face, as if he thought to see something stamped on my forehead.
“I’m excited.” I wasn’t sure I could describe it to him. My whole life I’d been alone, the only Tracker Giselle had ever known, and no one I’d met had ever met another. Maybe Doran had, from his cryptic words, but I wasn’t so sure I’d trust the daywalker Shaman to tell me the truth. Every other supernatural was a part of a group, even vampires, the few there were, had each other. But Trackers—I’d never known another one. For years I’d thought that was always how it was going to be.
In one long rambling, high-speed sentence, I spilled. “There’s another Tracker in London and I’m going to meet him in three days and I can’t even believe that this is happening and I have no one else to tell ‘cause I kicked Milly out and the FBI is going to have someone take care of Giselle while I’m gone and they’re even going to pay us!”
Charlie looked at me, his eyebrows lowered, and he lifted his hands as if to slow me down. “Easy, lass. Are yous sure yous not been fed anything strange? Ogre beer, perhaps?”
I scrubbed my face with my hands. “No, sorry, I just . . . I just thought I was alone.”
The brownie smiled up at me. “Yous never been alone, Rylee. Yous got lots who love you. Me for one. The big blue ox down south, and Ogre’s don’t give their loyalty easy like. Alex here, of course, he’ll never leave yous.”
We headed into the kitchen. “I know that. I don’t mean, it’s just . . . Charlie, if there were no other brownies, how would you know all the things you could or couldn’t do?”
He opened his mouth as if to argue, but paused. “Damn me, I guess I wouldn’t. Well, no, some things I’d figure out.”
I poured him a shot of Milly’s best whiskey and handed the glass to him, then poured a glass of orange juice for myself.
“Exactly. Once I meet this other Tracker, I’ll finally have someone to show me all the things I can do. I’ve no doubt there’s more to my abilities than what I’ve figured out on my own. Maybe there’s nothing else, but at least I’ll know.”
Charlie climbed onto the kitchen chair so we were eye level, his glimmering with tears. He’d lost everything, his wife and children. So the idea that we could help others find their kids, well, it was almost as much a drive for him as it was for me.
“And then yous can help even more of the wee ones with what you learn. Ah, I see now why you be so excited.”
Nodding, I clinked my glass to his. “Exactly.”
4
“Eve, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important,” I said as I stared up at the juvenile Harpy pacing around my backyard. She was well over a thousand pounds, with beak, wings, and talons of a bird, but her upper body was human looking, complete with all the trappings of being female. Lower body was all bird, her massive wings set just behind the blending of skin and feathers.
She’d flown back to North Dakota as soon as I’d called down to her, Dox passing on the message for me. Most surprising was that she’d brought presents for each of us; a fossilized bone for Alex that he’d been chewing since she’d given it to him, an obsidian blade for me, and a necklace for Giselle. That last was the most disturbing because it had not come from Eve.
It had come from Doran.
I held it for a long time before handing it over to Giselle, unsure of what it would do, if anything. She’d just let it fall from her fingers, not even watching when it hit the ground. So that was that.
Alex, his new bone, and Giselle were curled up in several blankets on the back porch, watching us. Alex gave Eve a double thumbs up while Giselle continued to mutter about blue socks.
“Rylee, it isn’t that I don’t want to help you,” Eve said, as she continued to stride about, her clawed feet turning the snow and ice into a slurry of pale brown mud. “But the idea of being spelled is . . . .” She turned large golden eyes to me. She’d been held captive by a Coven of black witches when I’d first met her. Things hadn’t gone so well for the witches, but they hadn’t gone so well for Eve and her sisters, either. Only Eve was left, courtesy of me and my blades.
“I understand,” I said, laying the clasp in front of her. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was necessary. You know Europe and the supernaturals there better than I do. ”
That was the truth. She’d lived there in her early years before coming to America with her sisters. Or, more accurately, until they took off from Europe because their Clutch evicted them.
Eve fluttered her wings. She’d been training with Eagle, a tribal Guardian in New Mexico, for over a month. Already I could see the changes in her, maturity that hadn’t been there before, not just jumping into things, overall a better control of her emotions—something essential to a Harpy, at least as far as I was concerned. Whatever training she was getting, it was doing her a world of good. Perhaps I should have let her stay with Eagle, should have done this salvage on my own.
No, I couldn’t trust the FBI to actually help me, and the gods only knew what I’d be facing over there. Without Milly or O’Shea at my side, I knew enough to know that I couldn’t do this run alone. Call it a gut feeling, intuition, or whatever the hell you want, everything about this run screamed at me to take all the ammunition I could. Not a good sign, but one I would deal with.
With a heavy sigh, Eve bobbed her head once. “Yes, I will wear the anklet. Perhaps we could try it now, before the moment comes that I must wear it? Then I will be ready for whatever changes it puts on me.”
I smiled up at her. “You have grown up a lot, Eve.”
She blushed and clacked her beak. “Eagle is a good mentor, a good flyer. I like him.” The flush deepened and warning bells went off in my head. Shit, if she had a crush on the tribal Guardian, that would not end well. He would only be around long enough to make sure his Shaman gained enough strength to take care of herself. What was I going to do with a broken-hearted Harpy? I shook off those thoughts. No point in going there just yet. Besides, she was young; she would grow out of a silly crush on Eagle. I hoped.
“As long as I’m holding the anklet, the spell won’t kick in,” I explained to Eve. I bent down to put the diamond and ruby studded clasp around her leg, just above her claws.
“Since it’s not just an illusion, I have no idea if it will hurt or not. It shouldn’t, though,” I said, fingers slipping off the clasp. I stood up, and took a step back. “You feel anything?”
Eve shook her head. “It’s cold against my skin, but I feel—wait, it’s starting to heat up.”
That was a good sign.
It didn’t last.
Eve screame
d. Wings outstretched, she let out a screech and fell to the ground, her body convulsing as her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, her voice sounding as if she were being strangled.
“Rylee!”
Alex barked, high-pitched, full of fear, and even Giselle let out a moan that added to the energy swirling around us.
Fuck, what was going on? I ran to Eve’s side and a sharp talon whipped over my head. I dropped to the ground, rolling across the crunchy snow to get close to her.
“Hold still!”
“I can’t!” She screeched, wings thumping the ground hard enough that I anticipated the crunch of bones, or at the very least the sickening snap of her pinion feathers.
Her talons swept by me again, brushed along my back and sliced open my jacket. Razor sharp was a freaking understatement. I lunged forward, now well within the danger zone of her claws, and wrapped myself around her leg. Riding her leg, I reached down and grasped the anklet, stopping the flow of magic with a simple touch of my hand.
Her wings stilled and she let out a low moan, her body going limp in the snow. We both lay there, still as could be; I was unwilling to move and chance losing contact with the anklet. I suspected she was hurt, but I wasn’t ready to ask that just yet.
Panting, she shifted her weight and stared down at me. “I have never felt so much pain; it was as if a thousand flaming hot knives were burrowing under my skin to flay me alive.”
There was no question as to what was going to happen now.
“I’m taking this off,” I said, my hands moving to unclasp the anklet.
“No, perhaps it is just the normal discomfort of shifting into a smaller form. Now that I’m ready for it, I can take it. The pain just caught me off guard,” she said, blinking back tears. Shit, this was too much to ask.
“No, I’m taking it off. None of Milly’s spells cause pain, not unless—”
Giselle’s voice curled around me. “Unless she wanted to cause pain. Or death. Or a theft of powers.”
A quick snap and I’d unlatched the anklet. Giselle was right. I took a close look at the anklet. There was something different about it. I counted the diamonds and the rubies. The number was the same, but they were in a different pattern, so subtle I didn’t notice it. Milly must have switched out the anklet she had originally given me at some point for this one, maybe while I’d been in New Mexico. She did this on purpose. A part of my brain was stunned, absolutely fucking gobsmacked at the lengths Milly was going to in order to get her way. When had she resorted to death spells as the answer to her so-called problems? More importantly, why? It didn’t make sense, at least not with the girl I knew, the girl I’d thought of as my sister. Another part of my brain wasn’t so forgiving. The Tracker in me saw only a threat to my charges, and I was leaning heavily to agreeing with that portion.
I was going to kill her.
And I didn’t mean in I’m-going-to-beat-your-ass-until-you’re-black-and-blue kind of way. More like I’m-going-to-run-you-through-with-my-sword-you-fucking-piece-of-white-trash-slut.
“Eve, are you okay?” I asked softly, shame nipping at my heels and smothering my anger for a brief moment. She’d trusted me and I’d let her down. But I would make it right.
“I’m okay, Rylee. You couldn’t have known.”
With a tight grip on the anklet, I shook my head. “I didn’t know, but now I do.”
I strode around the side of the house, the snow slippery under my feet. With a sharp jerk I yanked the door to my weapons stash open and stepped down into the converted cool storage-turned armory.
Could I really do this? Could I really hunt down my best friend? Yes, I decided. She hadn’t left me any choice.
There was only one thing I needed. No, make that two. I slipped on my back sheath, which would hold my two swords under my jacket, and settled the weapons. There wasn’t much time, less than twenty-four hours before my flight left for London. But it was enough to find Milly and end this.
She wanted those closest to me dead for some reason, and the only way to protect them was to kill her. Maybe she thought I couldn’t do it. My heart clenched and I fought a sudden wave of grief, tears working their way to the edge of my eyes.
I would not cry, damn it!
Dashing a hand across my face, I sucked in a sharp breath, smelling the still lingering scent of musty old vegetables mixed with leather soap and dust. Pull yourself together. She’ll kill you if you go in weak.
What had happened to her? Was she possessed? But even if that was the case, I had to end this. Possession, unlike the movies show you, is not reversible. Once you have a demon truly possess you, there’s no going back.
Letting my breath out, I silenced the side of me that wanted to believe Milly could be reasoned with, the child in me that wanted her best friend to always be her best friend. That was not my life. I had to protect those who looked to me for safety.
Grabbing a couple of bottles of salt water, I headed back up the stairs, kicked the sloped door shut behind me, and strode to my Jeep.
Stashing the salt water behind my seat the sound of the passenger door opening brought my head up. I looked up expecting Alex, surprised to see Giselle opening the passenger door.
“What are you doing?” I made a move as if to stop her.
“Milly is as much my responsibility as yours.”
Gods, how I wished that Giselle wouldn’t have become lucid right then. If there was any moment when I prayed for her mind to lose its connection with the real world, that was it. The moment that one of her ‘daughters’ would kill the other.
“Giselle, you can’t come with me. Your powers have drained you, and I can’t keep us both safe.”
She smiled over at me, a wry twist to her lips. “For once, you will listen to me, stubborn Tracker.”
My eyebrows went up. I always listened to her. Really.
Giselle slid into the passenger seat, her body moving with a stiffness that made her look older than she truly was.
“There are a few last lessons I would give you. And now your friend Doran has given me the chance to hold the madness at bay long enough to do so.” She held up the rainbow opal now hanging around her neck.
Only a month had gone by since I’d worn a similar opal, one of the fire variety, to keep some nasty demon venom from freezing my ass off. It’s a long story, but the crux of it is this: the longer I wore the fire opal, the more powerful the kickback if it came off.
I licked my lips. “Giselle, what happens when you take the opal off?”
With one swift move, she buckled herself into my Jeep, her eyes staring straight ahead.
“You know what will happen. It is time. I am more a burden than I am a help.”
“I can’t let you do this,” I said, my heart thumping painfully, as if it wanted to beat its way out of my chest. She couldn’t mean to do this, not now.
Giselle turned to face me, her eyes softening. “You have no say. I am your mentor still, and you will listen to me this one last time. It is my wish, and you will honor it.” She clapped her hands together, ending that line of conversation as she had so many times when I was still a teenager.
Uncertainty flared within me, but I did as she said, climbed in my Jeep, and started the engine.
If this was how I was to honor her, then so be it.
5
“Now, Rylee, what does Milly know about you?” Giselle asked as I drove into Bismarck. I was Tracking Milly and could feel the threads of her life humming on the far side of the city.
“Everything,” I said, eyes focused on the road.
“Be specific.”
I grunted and my lips curled upward. This felt like the beginning, when Giselle would school me on everything and anything she could. Always the same. Be specific.
“She knows I’m a Tracker, that I can trace her wherever she is. She knows I’m an Immune and that her magic won’t touch me unless presented in an indirect manner.” I thought for a minute, a niggling idea worming its way to the fro
nt of my brain. “Why do you think this is your responsibility? And don’t tell me because you helped train us both. Because it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
Giselle shifted in her seat. “Milly has tasted of darkness each time I’ve read her. Even in the beginning it was there, but then only a seed. Always, I hoped that she would purge the darkness.”
I caught her shake her head out the corner of my eye.
“But I believe now that she was placed with us for a purpose. Perhaps for the very thing you are going to do now. This could be a trap.”
Frowning, I forced myself to think of Milly no longer as Milly, but as one of those supernaturals who had to be put down for the betterment of the world. I swallowed the burning lump in my throat, fought the emotions that would be the death of me.
“You mean,” I said, “that she was placed with us to gain my trust so she could kill me?”
“You are going after her, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And she is the most powerful witch the world has known in centuries.”
Gooseflesh rose up over my body. “I didn’t know that. I knew she was strong, but . . .”
The steady tap of Giselle’s fingernails on the middle console drummed in rhythm with some beat I couldn’t hear. “How could you not?”
I shrugged, intensely embarrassed. “I knew she was good, knew that the Coven wanted her at all costs. But she never talked about the level of her skills. Neither did you, for that matter.”
My mentor let out a sharp barking laugh. “Truly, I was blinded by my love for her, as were you. She was the perfect undercover agent.”
“I guess the only question is, who is she working for?” My mind went to Faris, the vampire who’d sought my favors in his own perverted way. First, he tried to kiss me, then kill me, and then he, in a roundabout way, saved my life. But how would Milly fit in with him?
Or was it someone else? Fuck, the last thing I needed was someone else gunning for me.
We drove in silence for a few minutes before I blurted out what I was thinking. “Why did you use your abilities so much, if you knew that you would lose your mind?”
Raising Innocence: A Rylee Adamson Novel (Book 3) Page 3