Her ability to break it down to such simple terms both impressed and worried him. She spoke about killing as if it were easy.
“Pamela. You aren’t going to kill anyone. That is a last resort, do you understand?”
She frowned at him. “I can handle it.”
There was no way he was going to beat around the bush. “No, you can’t.” Her jaw dropped open and he knew he’d offended her. “You are too young.”
“I’ve killed before.”
“Zombies don’t count. Killing a person for no reason other than you need what they have, isn’t acceptable. Ever.” He stood and walked to her, and put both hands on her shoulders. “Ever. You kill to protect those you love, and those who cannot protect themselves.”
“Yet, that is what we’re going to do.” Defiance radiated through her and into him, and when she would pull away, he tightened his grip.
“No. That’s what I’m going to do. This will be on my shoulders, not yours. Whatever death comes, I will deal out. Understood?”
She again tried to pull away but he held her tight. Sure, she could have used her magic, forcing him to let go. But this wasn’t about magic. This was about who was in charge.
Slowly, with great reluctance, she nodded. “Fine.”
“Good.” He pulled her in tight for a quick hug, surprising them both. Despite her abilities, she was still a child. Her arms circled him for a brief second before she stepped back.
“So do you have a plan, then?”
“Your plan is good, Pamela.” He watched with amusement as his praise made her eyes light up. “I think it would be smart to hit the FBI first. I don’t think they’ll be expecting it.”
They headed to the kitchen where Milly was nursing a hot drink. Her eyes flicked up to him then back to her cup. “Would you rather I stay here?”
Her question surprised the shit out of him. “You’re offering to stay behind?”
“I don’t want to get strangled again for trying to give someone comfort.” Her words were sharp, but they didn’t work, not on him.
“You’re lucky I didn’t snap your neck. See how far we’ve come?” He strode past her and aimed toward to cellar. The last stash of Rylee’s weapons was there and he needed something from it if they were going to do this.
In the cellar, the light bulb flickered above his head, swaying left and right.
Only a few weapons left, but he knew which one he wanted. Rylee’s back up crossbow was smaller than her main one, and wouldn’t take as much strength to pull back the draw.
He grabbed it along with a handful of bolts and then climbed back up the stairs. Once more in the kitchen, he put the crossbow and bolts on the table in front of Milly.
“If you’re coming with us, you’d better be useful.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Just like throwing a spell.”
With a snort, he walked away. “How the hell would I know? Just make sure you don’t shoot Pamela.”
The FBI offices were dark. Weird for this time of day, and it made the back of his neck crawl. Or maybe that was the fact Milly crouched behind him with a loaded crossbow.
Yeah, that seemed a likely culprit.
“Pamela, can you blow the transformer?”
She nodded and lifted her hand, a delicate tendril of magic curling out and around the box at the top of the power pole. A muted pop, a flash of light and the rest of the buildings on the street went dark.
In the light of day, it was not easy to sneak in. So they went in bold as could be. He took the lead, the guns he’d snatched from the warehouse snug in their holsters, a comfort he’d missed.
Milly held the crossbow easily. Apparently, Giselle and Rylee had given the witch rudimentary lessons in weapons.
Pamela was only a half step behind them both. Though she’d argued the whole way over, even Milly agreed. The kid went in behind them. End of story.
With the power gone, the front door had locked. Now Liam did motion for Pamela.
“Keep it soft, Pam.”
She put a hand to the door and the lock let out a groan, the door swinging inward. Damn, her lessons with Milly were paying off in dividends. The entrance was dark and they slipped in, closing the door behind them.
He held up his hand, fingers spread, voice pitched low. “Five minutes. You two take the front desk; I’ll take Ingers’s office. Ears and eyes peeled.”
The two witches nodded and headed around the side of the front desk. Liam jogged through the building to the back where Ingers’s office was. Her door was ajar and the slightest flicker of movement froze his feet. He dropped to a crouch and inched forward, hands curling around the butts of his two guns.
The figure seemed to be searching through Ingers’s office, flipping papers and pushing things around. Liam lifted his nose and took in a deep breath.
Fucking Trolls, they were like rats; they seemed to be everywhere. Staying in the crouch, he slid forward and pushed the door open a fraction more.
In the dim light, his eyes picked up details he wasn’t sure he wanted to. The Troll was hurt, and it was the first female Troll he’d seen. She was crying softly, her hands searching through the paper on Ingers’s desk. “You bitch, you fucking bitch. I’ll kill you.”
She wasn’t as heavily built as the male trolls, her body more human in proportions, her skin tone softer and … delicate even. It was hard to put her in the same category as the males he’d seen. He frowned and knew he had to do something; he couldn’t crouch there forever.
Standing, he held up his hands. “I’d like to kill her myself, if I could find her.”
The Troll scrambled backward, luminous grey eyes widening, her hands fisting up. “Get away, get away!”
He knew panic when he saw it. “You want to kill Ingers?”
She trembled, but didn’t back down. “Is that the baby killer’s name?”
He let out a slow breath as understanding dawned. “She’s been testing her weapons on your children?”
A sob caught in her throat as she bobbed her head. “Half-breeds are not worth any less. Yet, our families turned us over to her.” Her eyes lifted to his and he let out another slow breath. There, under the scent of Troll, was the other half of her.
Human.
Shit, this was unexpected. He couldn’t help but pity her and her plight. He moved deeper into the office. No matter how bad he felt for this … woman, he had to find out the meeting time. And where Ingers might be hiding.
“My name is Tara.”
“Liam.” He didn’t lift his eyes from the desk and she moved out of his way. She didn’t ask what he was.
“Can I help?”
He pointed beside her at the tall grey metal cabinet. “Check the files, quickly. Won’t be long before the fighting starts.”
Tara did as he asked and dove into the cabinet. He searched Ingers’s desk, ripping open the locked drawers with ease.
There it was, a green file folder labeled “Army.” He grabbed it and spread it on the desk, his blood running cold.
Ingers had more than the Coven working for her.
There in black and white was the date and place of the meeting, set up for the winter equinox. “Fuck.” His brain couldn’t form what he was seeing, what was coming for them.
Tara spun. “What is it? Did you find her?”
“Yes and no. We have to get the fuck out of here. Now.”
They ran out of the office as the first round of bullets shattered through the building. “Everyone down!” he roared, ignoring his own advice and continuing to run forward.
Tara hit the deck only a few feet from the front entrance, right next to Pamela and Milly.
Liam knew he was the only one who couldn’t really be hurt. Through the front doors he ran, guns out, though his wolf fought with him to be unleashed, a snarl of bloodlust curling through him.
Three cars, three agents.
Running full tilt toward them, he took the three of them in quick succession with shots to th
e head before they knew what hit them. They dropped, surprise etched on their faces for eternity. They had no idea what they were up against, but they weren’t the ones he worried about. No, the humans were the least of his worries, if the file was right.
“Pamela,” he called, and the young witch came bolting along behind him, Milly and Tara following. He moved to the first black sedan, an idea forming. One of the dead agents was a woman. He frisked her and found her cell phone.
With a flip of his wrist he tossed it to Milly. “See if Ingers is in there. Call her and tell her it’s taken care of.”
Milly lowered the crossbow and flicked the phone open.
He looked around, saw people peeking out of the building windows.
“Time to move, ladies.”
He hoped he was right about the sedans. Sliding into the driver’s seat of the one closest to him, he turned the key. The engine rolled over without a single hiccup.
“Finally.”
The three “ladies” (he wasn’t sure a Troll could be a lady) slid into the car, eyeing one another, making introductions warily.
As he pulled away from the building, the phone in Milly’s hand rang. She flicked it open. “Yes. Yes, Agent, we’ve cleared the building. Excellent, we’ll meet you there.” She hung up, a wide grin on her face.
“Got her.”
Even though it was Milly, Liam grinned back. “Time to wipe out the bad guys.”
Tara’s face was grim. “I want first shot at her, she killed my babies.”
Milly and Pamela turned to stare at the half Troll, both with tears in their eyes. Liam nodded. “As soon as I have my questions answered, she’s all yours.”
“Thank you. I couldn’t do this on my own.” She burrowed deep into the seat, her baby pink skin standing out against the black leather seats. Pamela, being Pamela, slung an arm around her.
“Hey, you’re with us now. And we always get the bad guys.”
Liam wasn’t so sure that was true, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to correct her.
Let her believe they would win the day. For a little while longer, let her believe it would always work in their favor and they would all survive.
Chapter 15
We sat on the outskirts of Alice Springs and the thrum of the Blood hovered inside my head. The closer we got to them, the more my nerves jangled like live wires.
“It’s like they know we’re coming.” I rubbed my hands over my arms, a chill chasing along my skin in the 120+ degree weather. “Fuck, I might as well be standing in an ant nest.”
“I’m sure we could arrange that,” Doran said, pouring the last of the fuel into the gas tank. “Here, drink some of this.” He handed me the water jug.
“Al said we didn’t have to.”
“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t.”
He had a point. I took the jug and held it to my lips, drinking until my belly was full, then handed it to Alex. The werewolf slobbered and slopped at the opening, getting more water poured down his front than into his mouth.
“Thank the gods I can’t catch his virus,” Doran muttered, shaking his head.
I snorted and climbed into the passenger side. “Not like you would end up a submissive.”
Doran started the Willy. “Maybe not now, but in the beginning, perhaps I would have been like Alex.”
A quick glance his way showed he wasn’t kidding. “You were submissive?”
He didn’t answer. “I need to stop in Alice. Pick up a few things. Just in case.”
Hmm. Interesting. The idea of Doran being submissive, excepting the fact he’d been bonded to the former Empress and then Berget, was odd.
Not that it mattered right now. I stared out the window and Tracked the Blood, then tossed out a thought for Jack and Berget.
I sat straight up in my seat.
“They’re in Alice.”
Doran glanced at me. “Who is?”
The sky was still bright over head, how the fuck had they gotten here ahead of us? Tonight was the equinox, but I’d hoped they’d mess up. “Jack and Berget are holed up in Alice.”
He put the pedal to the floor. “We can take them both while they sleep, Rylee. The gods are looking out for us.”
My heart stuttered. Killing Jack, well, maybe he deserved it. And the beasts residing in Berget, they deserved a final death too. But my sister, what was left of her, didn’t deserve anything of the sort. No, I had to believe the opal would work, that it would be enough, buy us some time.
“Rylee, where?”
I gave directions numbly and within a few minutes we were parked outside a squat building, only one level. Which meant they were in the basement, well away from the sun.
I stared at the sign. “Donny’s Fishing Hole.” The sign on the door said the place was closed, but I didn’t pay much heed.
Checking my weapons, I slid out of the Willy, my boots hitting the sidewalk. Up and down the street, everything seemed quiet. As in no humans. Alex jumped out of the back of the old truck and bounded to me. I crouched to look him in the eye.
“Alex, there are going to be vampires in here, so we have to be very careful. One of them looks like Jack, but he isn’t our friend anymore, do you understand?”
The werewolf frowned, his lower lip sticking out. “Bad Jack?”
Teeth gritted tightly, I nodded, unable to say anything past the sudden lump in my throat.
The door was locked, but a slide of my blade through the latches and we were in. Inside smelled musty with an overlay of fish, but the thick coating of dust was the tip off.
No one had been in here for a long time. Two sets of footprints left a path on the floor. One large, one petite. I loosened my swords and started forward. Behind the counter was a small selection of flashlights. I grabbed one and flicked it on, the battery sputtering only once. Not bad.
Doran put a hand on my shoulder. “We kill Jack first. That won’t wake her. But if we do anything to her, he’ll be up before we can say ‘fuck it, we’re dead.’”
“Got it.”
I tried my best to not think about Jack as we located the trapdoor, but it was hard. Though I hadn’t known him long, and he’d lied to me several times, he’d also helped me swallow some hard truths. And I’d wanted so badly to believe he was going to be the mentor I needed.
Finding the trapdoor was easy enough following their footprints. Doran pulled the door open and peered into the darkness. “Leave this open. Just in case.”
Doran went first, and I followed. We were about halfway down when he cleared his throat. “Rylee, I have to tell you something in case this is the last time we speak.”
Shit, I hated it went people got maudlin, but if he wanted to talk, I wouldn’t stop him. “Okay, what?”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Those panties you’re wearing make me want to bite your ass.”
I glared over my shoulder at him, but there was nothing I could do. The Daywalker had a perfect view right up the short skirt. At least I was wearing panties.
“Ass.”
“Tease.”
I swung a boot at him, and with a quiet laugh he dropped to the floor. Following his lead, I did the same, a puff of dirt swirling up around us. Alex landed next to me in a crouch, sniffing the ground in soft whuffles. Doran had broken my train of thought around Jack, and I suspected he knew it.
Clever boy.
I handed him the flashlight and let him lead so I had both hands on my swords. Down here, the musty scent was far stronger, and Alex sneezed twice. At first, I worried he would alert them to us, but the further in we walked, the more I realized the place was damn well cavernous.
“How far?” Doran asked.
“Twenty feet,” I said, keeping my voice low.
Doran glanced back at me. “They’re dead to the world, you don’t have to be quiet. The only thing that will wake them is when we take Jack’s head.”
I swallowed hard. “Will it be that simple?”
Doran stopped and
turned to me. “Never killed a vampire?”
“No, Faris was the first I’d met, and he never gave me the chance.” True and not true. One time I’d been able to kill him was when he flooded me with his power, not because of anything I was on my own.
“Take the head, then pierce the heart. Your swords are edged with silver, are they not?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’ll do it.”
We rounded a small curve in the underground complex and there they were, asleep on two separate beds. Mind you, Berget was in the princess bed, a canopy swooping between the bedposts, bright white sheets curling around her small body.
Jack was on a basic bed, more like an army cot than anything. On the side wall, there was a simple white wooden door.
“Fuck, you want to bet that goes to the castle?” I strode over and yanked it open, looking straight into the hallway where we’d seen Jack and Berget originally.
“I bet she’s cheating,” Doran said, rapping his knuckles along the edge of the door. “Using the memories of her parents to further herself.”
They hadn’t been searching for the right door like us; they’d known where they were going, or at least, which continent.
Moving away from the doorway, I looked at Jack. Alex had his head on the Tracker’s chest, tears streaming down his furry face.
“Bad Jack. Alex sad.” He scrubbed his paw over his face and Jack stirred.
“Alex,” I hissed. “Get over here.”
“Rylee, quick,” Doran said.
But even that was too late. Jack was on his feet without me even blinking.
“Hello, Rylee. Be glad the Empress sleeps, or I would have to kill your friends where they stand.” His voice was strong and deep, nothing like the shaking tremor I’d last heard in him.
“How could you, Jack?” I held my swords up, pointing them at his neck and heart. “How could you let her use you?”
His blue eyes, those three tones of blue, swirled. “She didn’t give me a choice, and she took my memories of her visits. Until I stood before her, a vampire fully fledged, I had no idea what had happened.”
“Doran?” I didn’t know who to trust, though I wanted so badly to believe Jack. But that would mean one more person to try and rescue.
Tracker: A Rylee Adamson Novel (Book 6) Page 15
