Praise for Tracker
“If you love the early Anita Blake novels by Laurel K. Hamilton, you will fall head over heels for The Rylee Adamson Series. Rylee is a complex character with a tough, kick-ass exterior, a sassy temperament and morals which she never deviates from. She’s the ultimate heroine. Mayer’s books rank right up there with Kim Harrison’s, Patricia Brigg’s, and Ilona Andrew’s. Get ready for a whole new take on Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance and be ready to be glued to the pages!”
-Just My Opinion Book Blog
“Mayer creates heroes you love and enemies you hate, weaves edge-of-your action that leaves you breathless, and includes enough plot twists and turns to keep you guessing all the way ‘til the last page.
Death, mayhem, intrigue, fighting side-by-side with Vampires… this latest addition to the series has all of that and more. Readers will feel exactly as I did when the book ended – they’ll want more! Excellent work, Ms. Mayer!”
-CJ Ellisson, USA Today & New York Times
Bestselling Author
“Hold on to your seats, folks…Rylee Adamson is in for another bumpy ride! It’s been wonderful to watch Rylee mature over the series, but don’t worry, her snarky wit and ass-kicking ways are still just the thing to get her out of hair-raising trouble. If I had to battle with giants, vampires, red caps and witches, I’d want Rylee guarding my back…and my front…and well..my sides too, actually. But balancing all that badassery is a character with filled with heart. Shannon Mayer is a writer who only gets better!”
-Diary of a Bibliophile
Acknowledgments
As with all of my books, there are many, many people to thank. First off, my editors Melissa Breau, N.L “Jinxie” Gervasio, and Tina Winograd You three ladies have helped me polish this story to a high gleam, and as always, have helped me be a better writer in the process. The splendid cover art by Damon Za continues to blow me away, and I am so grateful you are on my team.
To my readers. You are why I keep writing and I cannot express my thanks enough. This journey would not be the same without you.
Of course, I would be in deep trouble if I didn’t mention my friend, personal cheerleader and sounding board (these are only a few of her titles) Lysa Lessieur. Thank you for going above and beyond in all you do. And for listening to me when I feel like pulling my hair out.
Yes, this is it. The part where I get mushy. He still hasn’t read any of my books (he says he’s waiting for the movie) but he stands behind me and helps me keep my feet on the ground when I start to get ahead of myself. Thanks can never be enough to the man who has helped me find my path in life, the one who believed in me when no one else did. So he’ll just have to settle for my thanks, and all my love. J
Chapter 1
A wet woolen coat on a pair of frail shoulders wouldn’t be as heavy or oppressive as the silence in my car. The quiet was broken only by the occasional suck of air as Milly tried to keep her tears quiet. She sat beside me, chin to her chest, moisture tracking down her cheeks. I kept my eyes on the road, but every time I changed lanes or took a corner, I saw her grief. I tried not to think about my own, forced myself to quell the tightening of my throat and the blurring of my eyes.
Easy enough to do when I let my anger burn hot, let myself obsess over how many ways I could kill Faris and Orion. How I could make them pay for all they’d done.
Though I’d spoken the words, and set myself on a path to wipe the two fuckers out of existence, it was a hell of a lot easier said than done. Both of them were powerhouses in ways I never would be. But that wouldn’t stop me from trying.
Night fell as we drove into Bismarck. The darkness erased the shadows the dying sun scattered across the faces around me.
Behind me sat Pamela, her hand rested on the back of my seat. “Rylee, what will happen to Dox and the others? Why didn’t we cut them down? Why didn’t we bury them?”
“You don’t touch the bodies of supernaturals who are killed or even those who die naturally,” I said, gripping the steering wheel, fighting to keep my voice even. “I don’t know the process; I just know they are taken somewhere supernaturals go.”
“That seems rather vague,” Pamela said.
“It’s all I was ever told. I never questioned it. I killed someone and the body was gone the next morning.” I hoped that would satisfy her and she’d be done with her questions for a bit.
Nope, wrong again.
“Where are we going?”
That, at least, was cut and dry. I cleared my throat. “Giselle’s home. It’s as good a place as any to plan our next step, and I sure as hell am not staying at the farm tonight.” No, I couldn’t stay that close to the skinned bodies of Dox, Sla, Dev, Tin, and Lop. Even knowing they’d be gone by morning, I couldn’t handle that.
Liam and Alex would meet us at Giselle’s. Blaz, on the other hand, had been quite happy to stay on the farm to meet Eve when she came back from the unicorns. Blaz had no connection to the ogres, so their deaths meant very little to him. And being a dragon, he wasn’t exactly worried about dealing with any intruders. There weren’t many things in the world that would tangle with Blaz and come out on top.
I flicked on my indicator light and took the next exit, slush gripping the tires and pulling us sideways for a breath. I adjusted my hands on the steering wheel and eased through the section, comfortable driving in snotty snow.
“You don’t think Orion will look there for us? He knows we were raised there.” Milly lifted her head, her voice thick with her tears.
I could have been gentle, but the time for pulling punches was long past. I all but spit my words at her.
“How the fuck should I know? You were his pet; you tell us what he’s doing?”
She went very still beside me, her jaw tightened and tears dried with her next breath. Truth be told, I wanted her pissed off, even if I was the one to push her buttons. I needed her to overcome her grief and fear. Grief would get us killed; fear could make her hold back. None of us had either of those luxuries. I needed her angry and ready to fight, to battle for us, to keep us on this side of the grave. I needed her to train Pamela to use her magic as witches were no longer taught. I needed her to push away her fear of Orion and focus on the task at hand.
Deanna had refused to teach Pamela anything but defense. But this was war, and kill or be killed. Emotions could no longer come into play. I glanced in the mirror, caught Pamela’s eyes watching me and knew she trusted me to make the best choices for our pack family. Such faith was unnerving at times, but I would carry it the best I could.
Milly straightened in her seat, snapping out of her tear fest. She folded her hands in her lap and I knew, for now at least, Milly was back to using her brain. “He won’t waste any more effort tonight. Orion likes to make a point and then let people simmer in their fear before striking again.”
I gave a slight nod. “Good, because we need at least a night to plan our next step.”
Pamela—as always—was full of questions. “Why did you send Will and Deanna home to London? Will is as deadly as Liam, at least. If it’s a fight we’re facing, can’t we use them close to us?”
“They are going to rally as many people as they can on their side of the ocean.” Much as keeping them close would have given us higher numbers, we would need help on a larger scale before this was all done.
“You mean Will is rallying people. Deanna won’t fight.” Pamela gripped the leather seat, making it squeak. We were banking on the fact that Will could get us firepower. And fuck Deanna for being such a pussy at the worst possible time.
Milly shifted in her seat so she was sideways, one hand cupping her belly bump. “Drui
ds can do other things. They can help without fighting.”
Pamela snorted. “Seems cowardly.” I tended to agree, but didn’t say anything.
“If you stand for nothing …” Milly’s words resonated in my head and heart, Giselle’s voice echoing in my ears.
“You’ll fall for anything,” I said softly. Milly’s eyes met mine. Giselle was with us still, tying us together even if she was gone. Even if Milly had caused her death.
Milly’s lips thinned and she faced Pamela. “You don’t have to agree with them, but Druids have beliefs they live up to, to the best of their abilities.”
I chose not to mention the psycho Druid, Daniels. Fuck, at least she was finally gone, though it would have been nice if in the process she hadn’t caused the first volcanic eruption on the west coast since Mt. Saint Helens’s. Okay, maybe that had been a little bit my fault; dropping the demon stone into the lava in order to cut ties between Orion and Milly probably wasn’t the best decision, but I wasn’t mentioning that to anyone.
Pamela pushed back into her seat and changed the subject. “How long before we get there?”
“Less than half an hour,” I said, checking the rearview mirror as a long black sedan slid in between traffic, getting right on our ass. If this was the driver’s idea of a tail, he was doing a pretty piss poor job. “Milly, you recognize that car?”
She turned in her seat, one hand on her seat belt, the other on the armrest. Pamela followed suit, staring out the back window. “No, I don’t know who they are. How long have they been following us?”
“Just started.” I knew the area and wasn’t about to get boxed in. “Buckle up, ladies.”
I put my foot down on the gas pedal and the Jeep obliged, the four-wheel drive making the difference between being in the ditch and staying on the road. A glance in the mirror showed the sedan cruising along, keeping up easily. We were closing in on the suburbs, a veritable rat’s nest of streets and houses. If we were to lose the douche on our tail, now would be the time.
I spun the wheel to the right, taking the corner so hard the Jeep skidded sideways and I wasn’t sure we weren’t ending up in the ditch. Lucky for us, it pulled back to center before we hit the edge of the pavement. “Milly, watch them.”
Navigating the slippery winter roads, I couldn’t help but notice all the Christmas lights. The humans were getting festive and—a loud crack ripped through the Jeep and I ducked instinctively.
“What the fuck?” I dared a look back as we sped along a short straight stretch, bright lights zipping by.
“They’re shooting at us,” Milly yelped as another bullet sang through the metal of the Jeep. And then another, and another. How in hell’s name were they getting that kind of accuracy? With the three of us affecting the trajectory of the bullets, there should be no way they had any actual hits. Supernaturals tended to do that to technology, screw it up that is. Which is why the accuracy of the bullets was so fucking shocking.
I took another corner, bouncing over the curb, driving along the edge of someone’s decorations and taking out a string of lights. “Pamela, keep your head down. Milly, can you deal with them?”
Before Milly answered, Pamela popped up. “I can do it, she doesn’t have to.”
“No, lay down,” I snapped, but too late. Pamela unbuckled her seatbelt and spun to face the back of the Jeep. The power of her spell gathered and she unleashed it out the broken back window. The asphalt in front of the black sedan exploded, sending the front of the car straight up, exposing its underbelly.
A second spell zigzagged through the air, and forked lightning kissed the bared gas tank. Half a breath later the car exploded in a shower of flames and twisted metal that dulled the decorations around us.
“Shit.” I kept the gas pedal down and wove our way out of the suburbs and back to the main drag. I glanced at Pamela. “You need to learn to listen.”
Her jaw tightened. “And you need to learn to let me do what I can do.”
Milly laughed softly. “I’m glad to see your wards have spines of their own. I was worried they were so obedient, they wouldn’t know their own minds.”
“Shut up, Milly.” I glared at her.
“Act first and think later. I wonder where she learned that?” Milly arched an eyebrow at me.
Pamela slouched in her seat, the cool air tugging at her long blond hair, her blue eyes glittering. Sullen teenager was written all over her. I forced myself to unclench the wheel. “Thanks for taking care of them. Even if you didn’t listen.”
She didn’t perk up, but she did nod, and I noticed her fight the upward rise of her lips. Damn, was I ever that touchy? Hell, people probably thought I was still that moody.
Milly reached forward and touched a bullet hole in the dashboard. “How did they get the guns and bullets to be so accurate around us? And why were they shooting at us in the first place?”
Both questions I wanted answered, too. “I don’t know.” I went for the obvious. “Orion wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would he?” If a demon had found some way to make guns and bullets work around the supernatural, we were royally screwed. I wouldn’t get the chance to pull together any sort of army, not if we could be taken out with long-range rifles and scopes.
I put a hand to the bullet hole closest to me. The metal was hot, and I jabbed my finger in to see if I could fish out the bullet. No luck. Milly frowned, her fingers tracing another bullet hole, as if we could somehow read the bullets themselves as Giselle had once Read people.
“I don’t think Orion would use this technology. Nothing he ever said would make me believe this was even a line of thought for him. But if he knew it was a possibility, there is no doubt he would make use of it. It would give him an edge we would struggle to match.”
Brilliant, just what I wanted to hear. We said nothing more until we reached Giselle’s place. The house still sat on a tilt, but at least the insulation was in and we wouldn’t freeze to death. Pamela leaned forward. “It looks … bloody awful.”
“Better on the inside,” I muttered. I caught a flash of black fur as two wolf bodies zipped around the side of the house. Damn, those boys were fast. Then again, we did get sidetracked. Nothing like a surprise car chase and minor explosion to change how your day was going. Not that the day started out all that well, either.
I stepped out of the Jeep, paused, and slid back in. Shifting the Jeep into low gear, I plowed through the snow along the dark side of the house, putting us in the shadows. Maybe it wasn’t the best hiding spot, but unless someone was looking for us we should go unnoticed. I turned off the Jeep and stepped out, Pamela following but her eyes locked on Milly. The older witch turned back to the truck’s path, lifted her hands and the crunched snow trail lifted, fluffing up and falling so it looked as if no one had been in the driveway.
I watched as Pamela frowned, lifted her hands and then along the road, as far as we could see, the snow lifted in a veritable blanket, and then dropped to the ground erasing all tire tracks.
Milly snorted. “Yeah, that isn’t going to look suspicious. No tire tracks for the block around Giselle’s?”
Pamela flushed and I put a hand on her shoulder, the tension in her singing through my fingers. I bent and whispered in her ear, “I would have done the same thing. She’s just pissed you’re stronger than her.”
The growing tension slowed and ebbed. I didn’t recall Milly being this quick to anger as a teenager. Then again, if what she told me was the truth, then even at that young age, Orion would have controlled her every action.
With that thought tumbling in my head, I grabbed gear from my Jeep. Pamela had an armful too, and we left the rest in the back. We’d pretty much cleared out the cellar below the farmhouse, taking every weapon, leaving just a bare stash in case of emergency before we’d left.
Pamela propped the side door open until Milly came around and held it for us. “What’s going to happen next?”
The two of them asked the question at the same time,
but it was Liam who answered as he stepped from the shadows inside the house to take things from me.
“We’ll talk about it inside.”
Pamela didn’t argue, just slipped into the house, throwing a quick glance back at me. I gave a nod. Milly hesitated, and I realized Liam had moved to block her from coming in.
“Rylee.” His voice curled around me; the anger and undercurrent of fear in it obvious to me, though I doubted anyone else would hear it. “Are you sure about her?”
I couldn’t lie to him. “No, I’m not. But we’re at a crossroads, not a lot of options left, you know, and we can use all the help we can get.”
“Not if the help is a traitor waiting to kill us in our sleep.” Not once had he made eye contact with me, his entire being focused on the one person who dared to chain and force him to attack those he cared about.
I laid down what was left of my gear and moved between them. Liam was an Alpha, of that there was no doubt. But so was I, and I still ran the show.
“Let her in, Liam.”
He stepped aside and swept his arm across his body. “After you, Millicent.”
She tipped her chin up and arched an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. There wasn’t a lot she could say; her history with us put her on the bottom rung of the pack, regardless of how strong she was.
Her footsteps disappeared into the house, but Liam and I stood there, a snake of cold air wrapping around us. He leaned over and pulled the door, closing it softly, which placed him squarely in front of me.
“My wolf is not handling her being here very well.” His voice was controlled, but I felt the edginess, the wolf scrabbling to get out.
I put a hand on his bicep, his skin hot under mine. “We need her help. If we’re going to war—”
“I know.” He jerked from under my hand, eyes narrowing. “Logically, I get it. But my wolf only knows she proved herself an enemy once, which makes her an enemy now. It’s going to take a fucking miracle to change that perception.”
Tracker: A Rylee Adamson Novel (Book 6) Page 1
