A squarely built, pebbly-skinned Toad Troll stepped forward, his black beady eyes narrowing until they looked as if he’d closed them. His double genitalia swung from side to side, hitting his knees. Didn’t look comfortable to me, not in the least.
“We don’t fight amongst ourselves anymore, fucking stupid fang face.” He spat at Doran who sidestepped the arc of poison easily. With his sidestep, he was now right next to the door, which he pushed open. The two Trolls alive inside were still beating the shit out of each other. It looked like I wasn’t the only one who’d gone about causing grief by chopping off a cock or two.
The leader of the pack let out a long, gurgling hiss and about half the crowd rushed into the building. Doran lifted an eyebrow at me. “Can you handle fifteen?”
I shrugged, my heart picking up speed. “Better odds than before.”
Without another glance at me, Doran spun and pulled two grenades from under his jacket. Grenades that looked suspiciously like the kind I’d gotten from Deanna. He threw them at Dox’s bar and yelled out the ignition word, “Ignitio!”
The two grenades hit around the same time, or I was assuming that was the case, because I was already rushing the remaining Trolls. “Alex, go for the pink one.” The werewolf let out a howl and launched himself full speed at the tiniest of the Trolls, taking it to the ground and snapping its neck in two seconds flat. I headed straight for the Toad Troll. That one could damage anyone but me. He spit at me, and I took it on the arm, the acid poison burning through my coat, but my skin only got a little bit warm. Booyah for being an Immune.
“Gotcha, fat boy.” I lifted my sword to run him through, but had to spin and deal with an orange-ish Troll on my right coming in fast. A big brute, he reached for me with hands the size of turkeys and enough fingers that he could probably make a mean shadow-puppet professional. I slid toward him, using a back swing to take all those grasping fingers off. Bloody stumps fell to the ground at my feet, still twitching and writhing.
“No touching the Tracker,” I said calmly, as if lecturing him on how to cross the road.
“Stupid Tracker, I’ll skin you like I did the ogre bitches,” he yelled, before falling to the ground, using his teeth to try and gather up his lopped off fingers. The words echoed in my head; they were the same ones on the note I’d found at the farmhouse. These were the guys who helped take out Dox, Sla and the triplets.
Everything around me seemed to slow, and I turned to make eye contact with Toad number two. All that anger I’d tucked away, all that fury I had to hold back, surged in me. “You helped slice my friends up and skin them alive?”
He grinned at me, showing broken teeth and tiny fangs in behind the teeth, retracted like a snake’s. “They cried like little girls as we peeled their hides.”
A scream erupted out of me, rage I’d never known coursing along each nerve ending until I saw nothing but Trolls and the edge of my sword. Blood and viscera flew around me, heads rolled, hearts pierced, and none of it was enough. None of it would bring back Dox.
The seconds blurred, and distantly I knew I’d never fought like this, never moved this fast or killed with such intensity. The movements of my body and blades blended together, a perfect killing machine that felt nothing but fury.
There may have been tears on my cheeks, but I couldn’t be sure, the stimulus of the death around me overwhelming anything else.
Their screams matched mine in intensity until they began to fade. And then just me, screaming, sobbing, kneeling in a pool of blood, hands still gripping my swords as my arms hung to the side.
“Ryleeeeeeeeeeee!” Alex’s howl broke through to me and I took in a ragged, choked breath. He sat across from me, blood staining the silver tips of his fur. “Ryleeeeee,” he said softer, his lower lip jutting way out. “No more, Alex’s heart hurts.”
Shit. I took in another, shaky breath and stood. Behind us, the Landing Pad exploded, a shit storm of glass and wood falling to the ground. I covered my head and ducked. Doran’s grenades apparently had some real bite to them. Good to keep in mind he hadn’t shown me all his tricks yet.
The crackle of a raging fire turned me around. The Landing Pad was engulfed in bright red flames that twisted and danced in the winter wind.
“Come on,” Doran said, his eyes soft as they met mine. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”
I nodded and all three of us climbed into his Mustang. The drive back to his house was quiet, beyond quiet, which was weird because I heard my heart thumping with each beat.
There was no doubt in my mind those were some of the Trolls that had taken out Dox and the others, but if I could kill them like that, then the Trolls had help taking out my friends. The ogres were skilled warriors; no way Trolls did it on their own.
“Feel better?” Doran asked, as we pulled into his yard. I looked down at myself, and really saw what I looked like. My clothes were thickly crusted with Troll blood. Little bits of matter that could have been flesh or brain were flecked all over, like an abstract painting. A sudden longing to have Liam with me made me close my eyes.
“I think I will shower before we go. Have you got extra clothes?”
Doran rolled his shoulders. “I should have something that will fit you, but you might not like it.”
“Temporary clothes don’t have to be anything fancy,” I said, sliding out of the car. Shit, I was going to burn these. The leather jacket I would be able to salvage, but it had a new hole to add to the mix, and I’d have to throw out the wool lining. At least that could be replaced.
Alex padded quietly beside me, pressing himself against my leg. I realized he was doing it for me, giving me someone to lean on. I put a hand on his back. “Thanks, buddy.”
He said nothing, just looked up at me with those liquid gold eyes, then away. Doran once more led the way, this time deeper yet into the house, past the bedroom where the woman’s body still lay as if asleep.
With a sweeping gesture, Doran opened a simple white wood, slatted door into a bathroom of the kind I’d never seen. Floor to ceiling pale pink marble coated the entire room, which looked to be about thirty feet deep and twenty feet wide. An in-floor tub that took up the far wall filled with water and suds, waiting for someone to dive in; behind it a fireplace crackled, the flames dancing.
“Take your time.” Doran stepped back and shut the door behind him with a soft click.
A soft spurt of air and then steam coiled out from six spigots along the edge of the wall. “Talk about being pampered.” I stepped into the room and slid out of my jacket, which was already feeling too warm. “Alex, hop in the tub there and get clean.”
“Yuppy doody!” He scrambled across the floor and, from ten feet out, leapt into the tub. Water sprayed up and out as he disappeared under the surface before coming up just far enough that his eyes peered at me.
Laughing softly, I peeled out of my clothes, feeling for the first time the blows and cuts I’d gained in the fight with the Trolls. The whole thing was a blur; I’d never fought like that, with a total loss of control. Angry fighting? Yes, for sure. But nothing like that. I started to count as I stripped. Both arms were bruised from elbow to shoulder, large finger marks where I’d been grabbed, two slashes from claws ran between my breasts, my left hip had what looked like road rash and when I inspected my jeans they were missing material. How the fuck had I not felt any of this?
Each moment that passed, the aches increased until I was in a full out hobble. Both sides of the room had clusters of showerheads and I headed for the one closest to me on the left. I flicked the handle and all the showerheads came on at once. Three above me and three at different angles on the wall.
“Doran, how many fucking parties do you have?” I griped as the water hit my open wounds. Better than crying.
“Oh, I have a few a month. The ladies like the bathroom best though. I can’t imagine why,” Doran said from way too close. I spun around, barely able to see through the stream of water, but I shouldn’t have worr
ied. A split second later a scrawny, soaking wet werewolf stood between me and the Daywalker.
“No touch Rylee,” Alex growled, hunching his back like a pissed off, soaking wet kitty cat trying to make himself look bigger.
Doran lifted up his hands, but I saw the smile on his lips. “I’m not going to touch her, Alex. Just bringing her clothes and thought we could chat a minute.”
Alex deflated. “Okee dokee.” He trotted back to the tub, which he slid into like a giant salamander, just his eyes and nose floating at the top, watching us.
“He is loyal to you above everyone else; not often that happens, even with wolves.” Doran didn’t look at me as he handed me a bar of soap. “Here, Louisa left this last time she was here.”
I took the bar of soap and sniffed it. Strong scents of sage and lavender filled my nose. “You aren’t going to let me have any time to myself, are you?”
“I think you were right about Berget. We might be able to stall the madness for a little while, maybe a year. No more than that, but it would buy us time.” He snapped his fingers and a stool slid to him from behind the door. He sat, crossed his legs and gave me innocent eyes. “You going to shower or just stand there and get wet?”
“Fucker.”
“Only if you beg.” He winked and I turned my back on him.
“Oh, that’s a good view too.”
“Enough with the games, Doran, or get the fuck out.”
“Fine.” The stool scraped as if he slid it across the floor, sliding closer yet to me. “I have a fire opal that is very large, about the size of a peach pit. The thing is, if it is going to work long term, I don’t want to put it on a chain—too easy to knock off and let the madness loose before we are ready.”
I scrubbed the soap over my upper body, the sting of the antiseptic properties making me hiss. “So what, we make her eat it?”
He barked a laugh. “No, not exactly. I think we can implant it in her, though, let her body heal over it so it’s too hard to remove.”
Limping, I turned to face him. “And you think it’ll work?”
His lips tightened and even through the streaming water I saw the concern etched on his face. “I have no idea. I have never dealt with a madness like this and while the theory is strong, the power and personalities embedded in Berget are beyond strong. They ruled the vampire world for generations. They will fight this.”
“I think Berget will fight too, though.” I finished soaping up and began to rinse off as my brain tried to tell me what a fucking fool I was.
“And if you do save her, what then? You think Faris will let her live? You think he won’t try and find some way to fuck you over? He’s a vicious set of fangs that cannot be trusted. Not ever.”
I threw my hands into the air, sending a spray of water out. “What the hell do you want me to do, there isn’t exactly a third applicant for leader of the vampire nation, unless you know something I don’t?”
Doran shook his head. I turned off the water and he tossed me a towel. “No, there are no other applicants, no one is strong enough to carry the nation; it has to be Berget or Faris. My vote is for him, much as it pains me to say it.”
The thing was, my brain was kicking into overdrive, pieces of my past colliding with this moment, and I wondered if it had somehow all been set up. If there were reasons beyond the obvious for the demons, monsters, and wretched souls I’d battled in the past, reasons I was only now seeing.
“But if there were a third applicant, and if that vamp finished the task ahead of Faris and Berget? Would that do it?”
Doran blinked several times. “What are you thinking, Tracker? I don’t like the look in your eye. It is far too calculating for you.”
I didn’t want to tell him yet; I had to get the idea straight inside my own head. But, fuck, if I was right on this, I could make sure neither Berget nor Faris took the throne. I would still fulfill that stupid prophecy about being the one to bring the new vampire leader’s reign into being. And I would have the leader of the vampire nation already on my side and ready to fight Orion. In one fell swoop, I would save Berget, thwart Faris, and gain allies we so desperately needed.
“Rylee, why are you staring at me like that?” A flash of fear whipped across Doran’s face.
I wrapped my body in the towel and walked toward him. The Daywalker scooted backward, his green eyes wide.
“Doran, you might not like it, but I have an idea.”
Chapter 10
Doran, indeed, did not like my idea.
“Are you fucking out of your mind?” he yelled at me, his eyes all but bugging out of his head.
I was wearing the most ridiculous of get-ups, a tight black dress that stopped mid-thigh and had a sheer cut-out running in a deep ‘V’ between my breasts. With my black boots and weapons, I looked like a hooker about to go on a rampage and finally take out her pimp. Whatever, it was temporary. I carefully crossed my legs. “Doran, it makes sense. The simple fact you don’t want to do this tells me you are perfect for it.”
He slammed his fist on the desk between us. I’d insisted we go somewhere dry and warm after the showers. Alex lounged in front of the roaring fireplace snickering. “Doran is scaredy scared.”
I smiled at Doran, calm and collected. “Tell me one good reason why this won’t work.”
Doran leaned toward me, hands flat on his desk. “Faris will never take me along with you two.”
Yeah, I’d broken my oath to Faris not to tell anyone. But I’d made Doran swear he would do nothing to stop me, or tell anyone else. At this point, I figured it was worth the risk. I had to find a way to stop both Berget and Faris. Had to find a way to stop Orion’s gang of murderers. I had few illusions the Trolls we wiped out at Dox’s were the only ones present at the death and skinning of the ogres. Much as it had been a release to kill them all.
“He will if he knows you are there to help us, if I make it clear you are going to help me kill the Child Empress.”
Doran slumped, and I waited. I knew this was the best answer; he just didn’t like it. Nope, didn’t like it at all. It would mean going back to the farm to collect a few items, it would mean keeping a secret from Faris long enough to accomplish all the tasks. And right under his nose.
Dangerous? Fucking right it was, but the choices were narrowing and my gut said “go for it.” I was inclined to listen to my instincts; so far they hadn’t proved me wrong.
“So Liam doesn’t know about this little idea of yours?” Doran shifted the conversation, and I knew what he was doing.
“No, he doesn’t, and I still think you would make a far better leader of the vampire nation than either of those two. I have the recipe under my mattress at the farmhouse that tells how to turn you into a full vampire, Doran. It makes so much sense I can’t begin to understand why you wouldn’t do this. All the pieces fit, and you know it. I have to believe it.” Besides, I knew Doran. As a leader of the vampires, he’d work with me. I’d have all the bloodsuckers working as a team—and more importantly, they’d be fighting on my side and against Orion.
He turned his back and leaned his ass against the desk, his voice soft with defeat. “I have an approximation of being human as a Daywalker. I will lose even that if I step fully into the night.”
My shoulders slumped. Maybe it was too much to ask of him. But who else did I trust with that much power and my life? I had read the recipe a few times, and I was pretty sure I knew it by rote, but to be sure, I wanted to grab it. The end result of the process would be me offering my blood into a crucible holding all the other ingredients with only one small addition. After that a vein had to be opened, and then I had to let the new vampire, who had very little control, feed on me. From a main artery. Yup, good times ahead.
“Rylee, I have never wanted to lead. I don’t have it in me.” Doran finally turned to face me, the edges of his eyes tight, his jaw twitching. I took a deep breath and stood.
“If you have another way we can stop them both, and go through
with trying to save Berget, tell me.”
Alex sneezed, breaking the silence between us, then mumbled. “Nope. Rylee’s right.”
Doran let out a bitter laugh. “Your Alex is right, you are right. This is probably the best shot we have.”
The soft tread of a footstep turned us both around.
Faris stepped into the office, dressed in black from head to foot. His blue eyes glittered. “Best shot at what?”
Oh, fuck. Doran moved beside me. “I took some of her blood, and saw the oaths you put on her.”
I stiffened, as did Faris. The vampire didn’t move, but I felt him gathering himself. Doran didn’t rush, though, and in that moment I knew I’d chosen right. He would be the best leader for the vampires, better than either Faris or Berget. That was, if my plan worked.
“I’m going to help her kill Berget. The little bitch thinks I’m still in her thrall, so I can get closer than either you or Rylee.”
Faris lifted his head ever so slightly, and I could almost see the wheels turning in his fanged head. “You won’t try and stop me? Or Rylee?”
Doran lifted his hand and placed it over his heart. “I swore an oath to her that I would not interfere, other than to help kill the Child Empress.”
Faris turned his gaze on me. He blinked several times and a slow smile slipped across his lips. “While not exactly what I imagined you wearing, the dress is much preferable to your usual jeans and a t-shirt. You will stay in it while we work together.”
Son of a bitch, he had to show up when I was in a dress Milly would balk at wearing. Nothing to be done about it now, or at least, not right at that moment.
I eyed the window; the shades were drawn and zero sunlight coming through.
Faris snapped his fingers at me, drawing my attention back to him. “If the shadows are deep enough—and the Daywalker here has made sure of it so he can entertain his previous masters—I can move around, Tracker. I see you eyeing the window as if to take the blinds off. I assure you, if I burn, I will take you with me.”
Tracker: A Rylee Adamson Novel (Book 6) Page 9
