Immune: A Sexy Urban Fantasy Mystery (Rylee Adamson # 2)

by Mayer, Shannon

  13

  Below us, the three remaining Shamans were kneeling in the main courtyard, arms lifted to the sky, smoke billowing around them from the fire pit in front of them. I could see no other people. They were in the centre of the ranch, which was laid out like a mini town, multiple buildings, and several open courtyards; none bigger than the one the Shamans were in. Everything about this gave me the heebie jeebies. I couldn’t decide if it was the lack of movement down there, or the fact that three powerful Shamans were being held against their will.

  “Eagle, can you communicate with your Shaman?”

  He shook his head.

  “Any chance you know what we’re up against?”

  His answer was the same as the first.

  Shimmying down the rock face, I lowered myself onto a rock ledge, and from there started to slide down the scree.

  “Where are you going?” O’Shea asked.

  “To get the Shamans.”

  “Just like that, no plan?”

  Pausing, I looked back at him, the scratches no longer bleeding, “Nobody knows why or how they’re trapped. I’m going to find out.”

  Swearing under his breath, he slid down after me, Alex closed in behind him.

  “We’ll see how close we can get, see if we can break whatever trance they’re in,” I said.

  “What about me?” Eve called after us.

  I thought for a moment before speaking. “Circle high, keep the ranch in sight and be ready to do an emergency pick up. You too, Eagle.”

  The three of us on foot made no effort to hide ourselves from those on the ranch as we approached. No point, there was no cover and it was just past mid-day, there weren’t even any good shadows to use for hiding.

  “So,” O’Shea said. “We just stroll on up, ask for the Shamans back?”

  I didn’t miss the sarcasm in his voice. “Yup, pretty much.”

  “That work for you in the past?”

  “Nope, never.”

  Alex snickered to himself; whether he actually got the humour, I don’t know, but I had the feeling he enjoyed seeing me and O’Shea at odds.

  O’Shea though, took exception and glared at Alex, his dark eyebrows furrowing. “Shut up, wolf.”

  Alex cowered as if he’d been hit, hiding as best he could behind my legs. “Sorry, boss.”

  I frowned at the agent. “Ease up, O’Shea. I need you both to be on your best behaviour.” Then I gave Alex a look, but I didn’t need to. The werewolf was travelling with his head down, tail tucked between his legs. “I be good.”

  We reached the large gates leading into the courtyard; I stood with my hands resting on the heavy iron bars. “Hello? Anybody home? Avon calling.”

  The only sound echoing back to me was the low chant of the three Shamans. Again, I wished I understood Navajo.

  O’Shea flicked the latch on the gate up, and pushed the panels, opening it with ease.

  Motioning for Alex, I pointed at the gate. “You stay here, guard the gate, and howl if you see anyone. Okay?”

  Alex nodded, but the spark was gone from his eyes, the jovial werewolf had disappeared under O’Shea’s rebuke.

  He didn’t salute, didn’t give me a saucy “Yuppy doody.” Nothing. He just sat down, eyes darting from side to side.

  “Alex. We won’t be long.”

  Again, nothing.

  The chanting stopped and the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rose in a wave. “We’ve got to hurry.” I took off at a dead run, asking my body to give me more than I knew it had left; I was running on empty. O’Shea ran beside me in an easy lope, not even a hitch from where the bear Guardian had nailed him.

  We careened around the final corner and the courtyard opened up. The three Shamans were slumped where they sat, chins to their chests. Shit, they didn’t look good. Skin pale under their deep tans, eyes closed, and only the bare flutter of their chests rising and falling. There was a red circle that they sat in, painted on the flagstones. I thought it was the traditional sign of the sun, and only as we drew closer did I see the rays pointed inward. I’d seen a similar design in one of Giselle’s books, years ago. The reverse sun was used only when drawing power from someone, sucking it out of them. Not good.

  My toe was at the red line, and I pushed it a little further. No sparks, no fireworks.

  “O’Shea, get them out to Alex. Flag down Eagle, he can get them back to Louisa’s.” My throat tightened up, like a noose had settled around it, my entire body going from tense to hyper alert. Where were the bad guys, the ones who’d taken the Shamans?

  He bent and picked up the first woman, then jogged her out to the front gate, out of my view. I worked my way around the circle. This was too easy. My skin started to prickle and I circled the courtyard, feeling as though I was missing something. No rescue was ever this easy.

  O’Shea came back for the second Shaman and as he lifted her she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Trap. It’s a trap.”

  Startled, I lifted my eyes to O’Shea’s. “Get her out of here, now!”

  I grabbed the last Shaman, the youngest one who had to be Crystal, under the arms and started to drag her out to the front gate. I didn’t want to be here when the trap sprung.

  Already though, I knew it was too late. Halfway to the gate the air around us crackled, and a sheen of misty power coalesced around the ranch. Without even touching it I knew it was impenetrable, the power vibrating at a frequency I knew from past experience nothing would get through.

  I lowered the Shaman to the ground, propping her against the nearest wall. Right now, she was my only ally and she was out cold. Crystal, the youngest of all four Shamans, and the newest to the calling. Fan-freaking-tastic.

  O’Shea stood outside the shimmering power, slamming it with his fists, and then his sword. I could see his mouth moving, but no sound came out. I was truly on my own for this one.

  There was no way around it, I would have to go looking for whatever or whomever the power source was coming from and take it out. I smiled, gave O’Shea a thumbs up and headed back toward the courtyard. It was about time I had something to go after, a solid goal. On the edges of my mind, I could feel Ricky waiting for me. There was no time for niceties; the kid had been in the hands of that fucking Troll long enough.

  I pulled out both of my swords from my back sheath, swirling them through the air, loosening my muscles. My footsteps echoed weirdly in the courtyard, bouncing off the shimmering power that contained the miniature town.

  The courtyard was the same as I’d left it, fire burning hot. I stood next to it, letting the heat warm me, the flames dancing almost as high as my chin. From across the flagstone courtyard, a single figure stepped out of the main doorway. She looked to be in her prime, short cropped black hair, soft brown eyes, and a fit physique for someone who was, on a good day, going to be called short. I doubted she’d come to the middle of my chest, hardly intimidating. She glowered at me, white teeth flashing.

  I swirled one sword in the air, cutting through the flames. “You’re the problem? Well bang me sideways, here I thought I’d be facing down a real bad ass, stealing four Shamans and all.”

  The petite woman took three steps into the courtyard, her eyes fixated on me. “You have quite the reputation, Rylee.” Her words were slurred, almost like she was drunk. Or trying to hide an accent, it was hard to tell.

  “Oh joy, it knows my name.”

  Her face tightened. “I am Jensen. I want you to know my name before I take you and spell you. I will be greatly rewarded for bringing you in.”

  I laughed, though my heart was starting to beat faster in anticipation for what was coming. “What, there’s a bounty out on me now?”

  She nodded. “Yes. And I want that bounty. I hear you even took a blow from a demon.”

  “Doran spilling the beans is he?”

  Jensen nodded again, still not smiling.

  My jaw clenched. Doran and his big fat mouth were going to get an ass kicking when I was done with her
. But if they were on talking terms . . . .

  Incredulous, I couldn’t help blurting out, “You mean to tell me you’re a Daywalker?” Of course, once I got rolling I couldn’t stop. “You, with the height of a child? You, with the short legs and stubby little arms? How the fuck did you steal four Shamans? Better yet.” I thought of what O’Shea would ask. “Why?”

  She didn’t nod this time, but the skin around her eyes tightened, as did her lips. Okay, so I’d guessed right. Her body was so still I’d have laid money that she was frozen to the spot.

  “You are insolent, aren’t you?”

  “Well.” I shrugged, keeping my body as loose and relaxed as I could. “I’ve been told that before. I kind of like it. Insolent. Makes me sound like a rebel, don’t you think?”

  “Those Shamans were easy to steal. They are so full of pride that when I asked for their help, they came. And when I asked for another’s help because the first was incapable, they came. Each one too caught up in their own belief that they were the best to realize I’d drawn them in and fooled them.”

  “Sneaky. Now, I only ask this cause my partner will want to know. Why would you steal them? Want to share?”

  I was pushing it, I knew I was. The longer we stood here the better chance she had at getting me to lower my guard.

  “Power. They have enough power to help me transition. I only needed two of them. The other two I took so you would be certain to come for them. Do you think it was coincidence that it was Louisa who escaped?”

  Hmm. This was not sounding good. I put my hand to my chest, my eyes wide and innocent. “Aw, you did that for me? Remind me to send you flowers.”

  Jensen snarled. “You little bitch, stop mocking me!”

  “Now, little isn’t the word I’d use for me. Damn, I’m a freaking behemoth compared to you.” I paused, then smiled, a genuine, happy smile I couldn’t hold back knowing this would be the word that would send her over the edge. “Squirt.”

  Okay, maybe that hadn’t been the best idea I’d come across, but it was too late now. She rushed me, her face twisting and fangs protruding at a grotesque angle, almost as if her jaw had been broken and reset wrong. That would explain the weird talking.

  Two steps from me she slammed on the brakes, and I pointed one sword at her head, the other at her stomach. “Come on then, Happy. Let’s get this done.”

  Her eyes glittered with hatred and madness, not a good combination in my business.

  “I am not happy.” She snarled at me, lifting one hand up as though she would spell me. Good luck with that.

  I couldn’t resist.

  “Then which dwarf are you?”

  Her eyes bulged, and I only had a split second to prep as she threw herself at me, a screaming bundle of fury. Arms wheeling, she seemed to lose control, her eyes rolling back in her head, teeth open and jaw snapping, whatever spell she’d thought to cast forgotten.

  I dodged her wild blows easily, dancing away from her, swords arcing through the air, taking off the tips of her fingers on her right hand. Screeching, she leapt, ignoring my weapons. Her mistake.

  Two quick thrusts pin cushioned her body, but I would have to take her head if I wanted to end this. The grimace on her face froze and she stumbled, her fingers clasping her wounds, then the grimace shifted to a smile as she lifted her good hand up, gripping something. I took a deep breath and the cold air sliced through me, dropping me to my knees. I fumbled for the pendant, the fire opal, and found nothing but empty air. There, dangling in Jensen’s hand, was the pendant, the leather strap broken.

  “Now, you think you are so smart, coming here to kill me; to rescue your friends.” Jensen grinned from ear to ear, her teeth looking even worse as a smile than a snarl. Where I’d run her through with my sword gaped at me, two flapping mouths dripping blood, giving me a peek into her innards. But it was if she wasn’t hurt, her anger obviously fueling her. “And now you are caught, a prisoner of your pride as they were prisoners of theirs.”

  “Shit,” I mumbled, my lips already going numb as I knelt on the hard stone, the icy blast of winter striking me down. Sure, the venom might not kill me, but Faris was right, the cold damn well could. If nothing else, the cold gave Jensen the edge she needed. Doran hadn’t been kidding, with the fire opal gone, the frosted cold sliced through me, a hundred times worse than before.

  Laughter echoed around us, and I lifted my eyes to see Jensen, her head thrown back, howling her pleasure.

  Teeth chattering, I gave her a thumbs up. “Qu . . . ick think . . . ing, for a runt . . . like . . . you.”

  Free once more, the demon venom surged through me. In seconds, icicles formed along the tips of my eyelashes and I struggled to move closer to the fire, my mind icing up as fast as my body.

  The crackle of the fire drew me closer and I crawled toward it, knowing it was the only chance I had. The flagstones around the fire pit were hot to the touch, and though I knew they would burn me, I laid on them stomach down, soaking in the heat. With the fire burning hot, I might have a chance. Maybe.

  Jensen was suddenly standing over me, one of my dropped swords in her hand. “You have really no idea, do you, of what’s going on the world? So focused on your ‘mission’ that you are blind to everything else.”

  Her words barely made sense to me; the fog of cold that had settled on me was swiftly stealing what was left of my capacities. “Fuck . . . you.”

  She crouched over me, laying my own sword against my neck, and I was unable to even shift away from her, the blade drawing a line of blood from my skin. The heat from the fire was helping, but not enough to do anything but think—certainly not to retaliate.

  Jensen stood, smoothed her hair with her mangled hand, blood dripping from the stumps of her fingertips. “I will call him, and he will come for you and reward me. What a pleasure it will be to see you chained like the bitch you are. Then I will have my reward. But I think, perhaps, he won’t mind if you have been injured, after all. He did only say you must be alive.” Her eyes glinted with a feral madness I’d been stupid to underestimate. “And you did attack me.”

  He? What he? I had a feeling I already knew, but I was so not in the mood for a showdown with Faris, certainly not in this state. Not after the last time we met in person. I had to keep her from calling him, keep her focused on me.

  Letting my muscles relax, my left hand slid downward into the fire pit, brushing up against the edge of a burning log, the last quarter of it untouched by the flames. I only had to get my hands on the opal, and I would be able to deal again. My fingers tightened around the warm wood and I curled my upper body around my belly, hiding my hand as best I could.

  “I have something . . . for . . . you.” I kept my voice soft and meek. Okay, as soft and meek as I could manage.

  The Daywalker glided toward me, once more bending over my body, my sword tip pressing between my shoulder blades. It was a chance I was willing to take.

  “What is it, little Tracker?”

  I fought the cold. It spooled out of my chest, shutting down my ability to move, to think, to act. But there wouldn’t be another chance like this.

  With a scream of anger, and a burst of energy I knew I wouldn’t be able to repeat, I flung the burning log upward, smashing Jensen in the face. The tip of my sword started to penetrate my back, and then was pinned down as I rolled.

  She screamed, her hands on her face, the opal slipping from her fingers. It bounced once and rolled away from us both. Shit, shit, shit!

  While Jensen screamed, the flames eating away at her face, I struggled to my knees, my hands turning to lumps of ice as I crawled away from the fire pit. Three feet away from the glimmering stone fingers bit into my legs, stopping me in my pitiful tracks.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Jensen said, her voice sloppy, face partially melted like a wax candle gone awry. Her head snapped down and she buried her fangs into my calf.

  Screaming, I booted her in the head with my other leg, fear overcoming the cold for a s
plit second. I had a vision of her taking my blood and, with it, the demon venom, creating a monster I knew I would have no chance of stopping. I couldn’t let that happen. Her teeth unlatched and she reared her head for another blow. I lurched forward, dragging her with me, my fingers circling around the opal.

  Heat rushed through me, freeing my muscles from the bindings of the venom, pushing it back. I kicked her in the face, then scrambled to my feet, my body once more my own.

  Opal gripped in one hand, I scooped my sword off the ground, took two strides and was standing over Jensen.

  “You picked the wrong girl to bite.” I brought the sword down in a perfect arc, taking Jensen’s head in a shower of blood and gristle.

  With my boot, I shoved her body into the fire, a whoosh of flames shooting up to the sky as they engulfed her body. Her head, I left out. Breathing hard, I gripped the opal, wondering if I could hug Doran and kick his ass at the same time. I didn’t know if it was possible, but I was going to try.

  14

  “Ryleeeee!” Alex came galloping into the square, bowling into my legs, grabbing at me with a frantic need. I pushed him off me, gently, but with a firm insistence.

  “Hey, buddy.” I cleaned off my sword and slid it back into its sheath, then picked up my other one and did the same. O’Shea was right behind the werewolf, sword bared, eyes taking in the scene in one sweep. He didn’t lower his blade though, instead keeping it bared and ready.

  “Adamson?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay.” My leg ached where Jensen bit me, my back stung where my blade had bit in, and my body was still humming with the transition from freezing cold to hot, but she was dead and I wasn’t. Good all around.

  O’Shea made a move as if to hug me and I stiffened up. “I said I’m okay.”

  “You’ve got blood on your back.” He spun me around for a better look. “It doesn’t look too deep.”