Priceless (A Rylee Adamson Novel, Book 1)

by Shannon Mayer

  Reaching into the fridge, he pulled out a beer, paused and then put it back. Just in case he got a hit on the tracker.

  Sitting back at the table, he spread the file out, flipping through it a page at a time. The similarities in the cases Adamson managed to pull out of her hat on her own were more than a little suspicious. The kids would go missing without a trace, local law enforcement could do nothing, somehow the parents would track Adamson down, and they would pay her to find the kids. And on all the cases she’d been brought in on, she’d found the kids, though not always alive.

  And there was the rub. She had a better rate of success than any FBI agent, than the whole freaking agency! He slammed a fist onto the table and the tracking device lit up, blinking softly.

  Grabbing it, he smiled. She was heading south. This wasn’t the first time and the pattern was too obvious; someone in New Mexico was helping her, and it was time O’Shea met up with them both and had a chat with them.

  Grabbing his jacket and keys, he jogged out to his vehicle. The wind was picking up and it whistled through the alley alongside his house. With a couple of days off in a row, it was a good time for a road trip, and this way no one would be the wiser to his deviation from procedure.

  The drive to New Mexico was uneventful. I sped like crazy, trying to catch time I didn’t have in the first place. I could feel India, feel her fear and confusion and, worse than that, her strength slipping away from her. Not like she was dying, but that her willpower was slowly being eaten away. Whoever had her was making a push to get her under their control. I couldn’t help but wonder if that was what happened to Berget. The two cases were too damn similar for my liking. The park, the time of day, the damn date—even down to the swing India had been on. The only difference I could see was Berget wasn’t a spirit seeker, which was what I thought India was. My hands were wet on the steering wheel from my sweat, as I continued to roll the two cases over in my mind. My lower back felt clammy, and I feared the worst. That this case would end the same way Berget’s had—in a death where I couldn’t even bring the body back to her parents for closure.

  I shook the thought away. No, I wouldn’t go there. Guilt rolled over me. I’d been so young, both in age and ability, that when Berget had been snatched, I didn’t know what I was doing. Still, I felt like it was my fault she was snatched, that I was somehow responsible for her going missing. It wasn’t hard for the detectives on the case to decide I was guilty, not when I tended to agree with them.

  “This time will be different,” I said, startling Alex out of a light doze. He cocked his head at me, then closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

  After what was etched into my bathroom mirror, I knew they, whoever they were, knew I was coming for her. They also knew all about Berget, so I had to be ready to face whatever they would throw my way. None of this was making me feel better, not one bit.

  Going as fast as I dared, only taking a short four hour nap when I could no longer keep my eyes open, I cut our driving time by an hour and a half, getting us into Roswell by four thirty in morning the next day. Or at least into the north side of the town.

  Despite the town’s reputation for UFO’s because of that one singular crash, there was actually very little supernatural activity in the area—unlike North Dakota, which had more than its fair share of the weird and the wild. There was only one place I would stay while in Roswell, and it was run by a very large ogre who wore a ring similar in make to Alex’s collar. In other words, he passed for human.

  The Landing Pad, an apt name for the area, was a small motel with an attached bar catering to those needing to be discreet.

  I parked and Alex followed me out, tight on my heels, my command that he stay close still with him. I stretched and he mimicked me as best as his contorted body would let him. It brought a smile to my face and I was glad he’d come to find me at the hotel, though the reason for it sucked.

  The lady at the front desk checked me in, gave me a key and we went to our room. No point in calling in on my friend now, he slept till after noon every day. The Shaman I was here to see was even worse, she would be inactive until dusk. And if there was one thing I’d learned, it was that you didn’t mess with a Shaman’s schedule, not if you wanted their help.

  Double locking the door behind me, I checked the room, and then flopped onto the bed, Alex throwing himself down beside me. Within moments I was asleep. For once, it was dreamless.

  Hours later I pulled myself awake. “Damn,” I flicked open the curtain. I’d slept longer than I’d planned. Jumping out of bed, I grabbed Alex and we headed out to find my friend. Ogre he might be, but he was also the best source of information I knew down here.

  The motel’s door barely creaked under my hand, but a voice still called to us from within the building.

  “Won’t be a second.”

  Knowing who it was, I followed where the voice had come from. A large, pale blue-skinned Ogre stood in front of the stove, his dark blue hair in a long braid down his back. He wasn’t as big as some I’d seen, but he was still large, well over seven feet. He had piercings through his nose, lip and eyebrow, but none in his ears. Absently I wondered if it signified anything or if he was just trying to keep up with the human culture.

  I sauntered up to him, sure of my welcome. “How you doing, Dox?”

  With a roar, he spun and pulled me into a bear hug, slapping my back, much to Alex’s displeasure as made apparent by his muttered grumbling.

  “I’ll be snookered, Rylee! It’s been months since you been down our way. How in freaky fairyland are you?” He held me at arm’s length, ignoring Alex’s grumbles, and inspected my condition. I must not have passed because before I could answer, he spun me around and sat me at the large table. I always felt like a child sitting at a table that was made for Dox and his buddies. “Here, sit and eat.” He pushed a plate of brownies toward me and I snagged one. If Dox was a perfectionist for anything, it was his cooking. He smiled at me, a twinkle in his eye, “Freshly baked boggart brownies are the best for what ails you.”

  I froze with one of said brownies halfway to my mouth. “No boggarts in them I hope.” He laughed at my expression and pushed one toward Alex, who sat at my side, a skeptical look on his face as he sniffed the pastry.

  “Nah. Picked the recipe up from a boggart passing through and added it to my repertoire.” He placed one big hand over his heart. “You wouldn’t truly believe I’d feed you boggart without telling you, would you?”

  I snorted. “I seem to remember a certain meal that consisted of mystery meat which turned out to be—”

  “Ah yes, I remember. Let’s not discuss that. It didn’t turn out well for anyone.” He grimaced and I smiled around the brownie. Goblin meat is not very tasty, no matter how many spices you add to it. And when the process reverses and the meat comes out the way it went in, it burns. I’d eaten nothing for the next week that didn’t hurt all the way down.

  “So, you here needing help?”

  I nodded, my mouth full. He handed me a glass of milk. After a chug of moo juice, I answered him. “There’s a kid I can’t track and there was no evidence of her even being taken. Figured a shaman was my best bet. I was hoping Louisa would help me out.”

  Dox frowned and sat down across from me. “You haven’t heard then?”

  I frowned right back at him. “Haven’t heard what?”

  He let out a sigh and folded his hands on the table. “All the shamans, all except one, have left. Gone. Pfft.” He made a flapping gesture with one big mitt.

  “What? Louisa would never leave, this is her home!”

  “I know, but she’s gone. Not a word about it either until someone went looking and found only this Doran fellow.”

  My eyes widened. “A male shaman? That’s taboo ‘round here, isn’t it?”

  Dox nodded and pushed another brownie toward Alex, who took the square eagerly. “Yup. But he’s all we’ve got now. Suppose you want to know where to go looking for the new guy?”<
br />
  I stood up and brushed crumbs off my lap. “Yes, doubly so now.”

  Dox looked up at me, his eyes solemn. “Thought you didn’t Track adults.”

  “Not going to Track them, Dox, just going to ask a few questions. If I have to work with this Doran, then fine. But I’d rather work with someone I know and can trust like Louisa.”

  “Well then.” Dox stood and led me out of his kitchen, Alex right behind us. “Here’s his address.” He handed me a business card.

  My eyebrows climbed near into my hairline. “He’s handing out business cards?”

  Dox smiled down at me and patted my head. “Wait till you meet him, Rylee. I’m betting you two are going to just” —he clapped his hands together— “hit it off.” It was the twinkle in his eye that told me this Doran would be trouble. But I went anyway. I needed him to help me find India, no matter how much trouble he was going to be.

  Chapter Twelve

  Alex was not happy I left him with Dox while I went on without him to meet with Doran. He whined and cried, whimpered, and finally started howling. I felt awful, knowing how submissive and downright needy he was. That is, until Dox pulled out another pan of boggart brownies, and Alex suddenly forgot all about me.

  I pulled out of the driveway. I was headed to Shawnee road, on the far east side of town. Dusk fell and shadows darkened the road as I pulled up to where Doran was supposed to be. Sitting in my Jeep, I looked out over the empty lot. At first glance, it was nothing more than an overgrown weed garden, one lone attempt at a cactus in the far right corner, miserable excuses for houses on either side of the mid-sized lot, and no actual house of any sort. I glanced at the realtor posting out front and checked it against what Dox had given me. It matched up. Which could only mean one thing.

  I focused on my second sight, narrowing my eyes, and saw the flicker of the Veil cross my vision. When I opened my eyes fully, there was a massive adobe house with a beautiful herb garden, two small fountains in the shape of fish spouting water out their mouths and into a pond with koi swimming lazily about. Swanky for this part of town, even if it was on the other side of the Veil.

  “How the hell did you manage this?” I asked no one in particular. Which is why I was startled to get an answer.

  “Hard work. A little luck. Good timing.”

  I started as a body materialized behind the voice and a young man, no older than myself, was suddenly sitting on the passenger seat. Good thing indeed I hadn’t brought Alex with me. Doran was an average build. It was hard to distinguish his height while sitting, but I guessed he was about my height. White blond hair stuck straight up as if magnetized, the tips dyed black. It was a sharp contrast for his dark green eyes that spoke of humor and fun, not magic and wisdom. Two piercings over his left eyebrow and one in the right side of his lower lip made him look a bit like a punk rocker. I had a very hard time seeing him as a shaman.

  I composed myself as fast as I could. “You must be Doran.”

  He smiled, a big open grin splitting his face from ear to ear. “Yes. And those beautiful eyes must make you Rylee.”

  I blinked, not sure how to react. Most people didn’t like my eyes, too many colors to be normal.

  Clearing my throat, I nodded. “I need help with tracing a kid on the other side of the Veil, but I don’t know how deep she’s been taken or which entry point to use.”

  Doran shrugged. “Which one? Isn’t that always the question?”“ For a price, of course.” His eyes darkened. “The deep levels on the other side of the Veil are not very welcoming right now. Perhaps you’d be better off forgetting about this kid.”

  Deep levels? What was he talking about? I didn’t ask, though, as I knew it would only cost more and it likely didn’t matter.

  “How much?” I chose to ignore his warning. Shamans were like that, always full of doom and gloom, and in that at least, he was no different.

  “The price is steep, I’m not sure you will be willing to pay it.” He lifted an eyebrow, the two rings catching the last of the light from the setting sun through the windshield. “Come in, it’s far more cozy in my home.”

  Leaving the safety and additional weapons in my Jeep, I followed him into his territory after a quick glance around to be sure no one was looking. A shiver of air rippled around me as I stepped across the Veil. It was what separated the human world from the worlds where many of the supernatural creatures lived, hiding out just under the human’s noses.

  Anyone watching would have seen us disappear and, though I was nervous, Doran didn’t seemed to be bothered at all. I knew most humans, if they did see something, would shake it off as a trick of the light. That’s not to say some humans didn’t go looking for the supernatural; they just didn’t know what they were looking at most of the time.

  The fountain splashed merrily and the koi swam to the surface as we passed. “Little beggars,” Doran muttered, tossing them some small crumbs from his pocket. They gulped at the pieces, their mouths opening wide and showing flashes of silver and gold as they jostled for the bits of food.

  Inside the adobe house, the air was warm, and a large open fire pit in the middle of the structure roared upward, keeping the chill autumn air at bay.

  “Sit, we will discuss your needs … and mine,” he said, motioning to a plush cushion on the edge of the fire.

  A worm of unease began to crawl through the base of my spine, making its way upward. I didn’t know this shaman and I’d walked in here like it was safe. What had I been thinking? “I’ll stand. You know what I need, name your price.”

  Doran stared at me across the flames, his gaze travelling the length of my body twice before resting on my face. Slowly, he smiled. “Perhaps you can guess at my price for the knowledge you seek.”

  For the second time that day I blushed, the heat from the flames was nothing compared to the heat in my face. My jaw clenched at what he was implying. “I think you’d better just spit it out. I don’t like guessing games.”

  He grinned at me, white teeth almost sparkling. My eyes narrowed; I didn’t like this, but he was the only chance I had at finding India in time. Almost without thinking, I reached for her and was surprised when she reached back, just the faintest brush of her mind at the very edges of my own.

  “Help, please.”

  Stunned, I saw Doran’s mouth moving but heard nothing. Not one kid had ever reached for me, had ever felt I was going to try and help them. “I’m coming, just hang on,” I whispered under my breath, not sure if I could speak to her mind to mind.

  “What was that?”

  I waved my hand at him to continue and tried to piece together what he’d already said.

  “You see, I have some very particular needs,” he said, a smile tipping up the corners of his mouth. “I have very refined tastes, and quite frankly, the people around here just aren’t satisfying them.”

  Jaw tight, I held very still. It was the first time I’d ever dealt with a male shaman. I didn’t know if he was bluffing or if he truly wanted to get in my pants. “I’m not that kind of girl.” I bit out.

  “Not even to save a child? A little girl?” Doran spread his hands across his knees and rubbed his thighs. “Isn’t she about the same age as your sister was when she went missing?”

  Ice formed around my spine and heart. Maybe he thought I’d buckle under the mention of my lost family. “No, actually. Berget was younger by a few years.” Stepping around the fire I leaned down until our noses almost touched. “Try to use her for bait again, Doran, and it will be you that will go missing next.” By the end, my words were a bare whisper, only just audible above the crackle of the fire.

  “Oh, Rylee, how I wish I’d met you years ago.” He whispered back, as if I hadn’t just threatened his life. “A pint of blood will do, I suppose. Though I’d much prefer it to be taken by my mouth, I suspect you’ll insist on a blade?”

  I snapped backwards as if he’d slapped me. Blood. If he wanted blood, then … “You’re a daywalker?”

&n
bsp; Steepling his fingers under his chin, he laughed softly. “What did you think? That any old shaman could step in and replace all those women?”

  Daywalker. Vampire. They were the same thing, only one roamed the night, and the other roamed the day. Why hadn’t Dox warned me about this? Likely he didn’t know.

  I started to sweat, old fears surfacing. I’d faced down a daywalker once, to save a child. The end result was the daywalker was dead, and the kid safe, but I still had nightmares. Not to mention a few deep tissue scars that would never fade. The one in my lower back, just above my tailbone, started to throb as if I’d poked it. The daywalker had tackled me from behind, almost wrapping his teeth around my lower spine. If Milly hadn’t been with me on that search, I’d have been killed. What Doran had just said caught up with me.

  “Speaking of those missing women, where are they?” I forced the fear back down my throat.

  Doran tipped his head to one side. “You don’t hunt for adults, Rylee, so why would you care what happened to them?”

  “It’s important to a friend. He wants to know.” I fingered the handle of my blade. “And since you took their places, you should know what happened.”

  “I do, but if you want that information, you’re going to have to give me more than blood. I want you bound to me.”

  Nope, no one was worth that, not even the shamans I’d come to count as allies. In fact, I wasn’t so sure I’d bind myself to him even for a kid. I shook my head.

  “Whatever, I’m not looking for the shamans.” I cracked my knuckles, nerves starting to show through my tough girl exterior. “I guess you can’t help me then, especially not if it’s one of your own that took the girl.” I started to back away from him. No fucking way I was turning my back on him now.

  “Oh, I can help you, Rylee. Besides, it wasn’t one of mine who stole the girl, I can tell you that much.” He paused and took a long slow breath as if tasting the air. “You see, I just want a taste of the good stuff. The blood all the daywalkers and vamps sing about when we get together for our yearly convention.” His eyes, they were full of laughter. He was having fun with this, teasing me.