Raising Innocence: A Rylee Adamson Novel (Book 3)

by Mayer, Shannon

  Without further ado, we made it back to my blue suite, an early dusk falling with the heavy cloud cover. There was no way I’d be able to go back to the station without showering and clean clothes. If I could smell the smoke and rotting flesh, there was no way Will would miss it.

  Leaving Pamela in the main room with Alex, I stepped into the bathroom, and cranked on the hot water. The bite from the zombie stung like a bitch and was oozing a nice yellow pus. What a fan-fucking-tastic addition to the day.

  With the water going full bore, I soaped up, re-hashing what I’d seen. The Necromancer knew how to use the Veil to travel in such a way that I couldn’t find the entranceway, he had an undead set of guards to cover his back trail, and now he knew someone was onto him. I had fucked up—royally. There had to be something good that I could squeeze out of this day. Wasn’t there?

  Smoke and rot washed from my body, bandage and herbal poultice on the bite, and clean clothes on, I was ready to head back to the station. A quick glance in the bathroom mirror showed no cuts or bruises on my face, nothing that would give me away.

  My hand was on the doorknob when the soft rumble of a man’s voice reached out from the living area. A voice I wanted nothing to do with.

  Shit, all I had with me was my big bowie knife; my two swords I’d left in the bedroom, which was adjacent to the bathroom. But if I tried to get them, I would be visible to the main living area and he would see me. Not to mention there was no way I could leave him there with Pamela all alone.

  “I can hear your heartbeat escalate, Rylee.”

  Fuck!

  I stepped out of the bathroom and eyed up Faris. The vampire looked the same as the last time I’d seen him; eyes a piercing ice blue, blond hair and stunning smile with only a whisper of fangs. I had to work at slowing my heart rate, at which Faris gave me a slight nod of acknowledgement. This was so not good in so many ways.

  “Pamela.” I held out my hand to her and she stepped toward me, but Faris barred the way with his arm. Alex shook where he sat, but his lips were slowly lifting back over his teeth.

  “Come now, I was just getting to know the girl,” Faris said, reaching out to stroke Pamela’s hair. She cringed away from him.

  I pulled out the bowie knife. “Let her pass . . .”

  He laughed. “Or what, you’ll stick me with your butter knife?”

  My eyes narrowed; I had nothing to threaten him with, no weapon that would truly hurt him, no blackmail to make him do what I wanted.

  “I could use another witch,” Faris said. “The one I have is a pain in the ass. And this one is young and teachable . . . malleable.”

  He spoke like we were business associates out for lunch.

  Alex sidled up to me, pressing himself against my legs. “Smells like Milly.”

  If there had been a light bulb over my head, it would’ve exploded. Milly had a way to locate me, via my left over blood, and if she was working for Faris, he had access to that ability. That was singularly disastrous in my mind. If he could find me anywhere . . . it was almost as bad as him being able to Track me.

  Only one way to find out if that was the case. I managed to keep my voice even. “Milly’s working with you?”

  Faris nodded, though his eyes never strayed from Pamela, and I saw her sway. He was enthralling her.

  No time to waste, I took two steps toward them and threw my knife, catching Faris along the side of his face and cutting off the rim of his ear.

  With a roar, his head snapped around and his eyes all but nailed me to the spot. “You’d dare attack me when I come with terms of peace?”

  My jaw clenched and unclenched, fear pooling in my belly. I had no weapon now and nothing close at hand.

  I was in deep shit.

  “You can’t have her. Bad enough you already took Milly from me.”

  His blood dripped on the floor, leaving a trail as he stalked toward me. “She was already taken by darkness when I found her. You’re blind, Tracker, when it comes to those you love. You never see them for what they truly are.”

  I stepped back for every step forward he took, my mind racing to find a way out of this. A glance over at Pamela showed her sagged against a chair, eyes glazed over. Alex moved with me, his hackles up and a low growl rumbling through his chest.

  “No hurt Ryleeee!” He howled as he launched himself at Faris. Even with his teeth and claws bared, the werewolf was knocked aside as if he were a bothersome fly, not a two hundred-pound supernatural. Alex was thrown across the room, his back slamming into the corner of the door frame with a sickening crack of bone. Limp, he fell to the ground and lay there, unmoving.

  “You really should be wiser in choosing your friends. They are weak, young, and so easy to turn against you.” He smiled and in a flash pinned me against the wall, yanking my wrists above my head, and holding them there with one hand. We’d been here before, him and me. It hadn’t ended well.

  “Thanks, I needed the stretch,” I said, sweat dripping down my sides. I was so fucked, there was no way out, no lifeline I could grab. I couldn’t even get my foot up to boot him in the knee. Doran had given me that tidbit and it had, I was sure, saved my life the first time I’d met Faris. But not this time; Faris was working me over very carefully.

  Faris continued to smile. “Do you know how vampires share information?”

  I tried to swallow; I did, but I had no spit left.

  Did it matter that he was going to kill me, then Alex, and put Pamela into some sort of servitude? Yes, it did matter, yet I couldn’t stop myself.

  “I’m going to go with smoke signal for the win.”

  “Do you ever learn?”

  I did my best to shrug. “Only when I want to.”

  His lips pulled back from his fangs. “I want to share with you all I know, Rylee. It’s a gift, one I do not bestow lightly. Even Milly hasn’t gained this honor.”

  “I’ll pass. You go give your cooties to someone else.”

  Even if he bit me, he couldn’t turn me. But I had a bad feeling that it wasn’t a bite I was about to get. Faris’ tongue flicked out over the tip of his left fang, drawing blood. With an infinite slowness, his head lowered to mine, his one hand held my jaw still, and his body easily kept mine pinned to the wall.

  “Relax, Tracker, this will only hurt a little bit,” he murmured as his lips covered mine, the taste of coppery sweet blood coating the inside of my mouth. His power washed out over me, and I responded to the heat of his kiss, my mind blank as to why I shouldn’t. He let go of my hands, and I didn’t push him away, instead twinning my fingers through his hair and pulling him tight against me. The taste of his blood was sweet like honey and I couldn’t get enough of it or him. His arousal pressed against my belly and I squirmed, wanting more of what he had, what he was forgotten under the haze of what he was doing to me.

  His fingers slid down my arms, taking one hand and shifting it between us, placing it over his hardness, groaning as my fingers clenched on him.

  And then the world around me scattered, pain lighting up my nerve endings for a single heartbeat before I was inside his memories.

  *-*-*-*

  O’Shea had no fucking idea where he was. London, yes, but other than that his senses had been completely turned around. When they’d reached the carriage, Milly laid a spell on him blocking his sight and hearing. Except for his nose, which kept on picking up the scent of fish, he had nothing to rely on.

  His gut still churned from what had happened at the police station. The look on Rylee’s face, the fact that he’d charged her and could have killed her if Milly had commanded him too. There had to be a way for him to stop this. He had to believe that he could break this spell or he’d go mad.

  Finally a gust of new air washed in and around him; likely Milly had opened the door. Not that he could do anything about it anyway—commanded as he was not to move. Ocean air filled his nostrils followed by a sharp tang of men’s sweat, diesel fuel and fish. Lots and lots of fish. They were either
on the docks or very close.

  With a blinding flash, he could see and hear, the noise of the docks making him cringe—or they would have if he’d been able to move. Yes, they were on the docks, a large boat trimmed in red and black waited directly ahead of them. The Saint Marie II.

  “Come along, Liam.” Milly called over her shoulder as she headed toward the boat.

  Come along? Could he circumvent that? He took a step toward her and then one to the side. Yup, he could do this his way. With her back to him, confident in her spell, she couldn’t see what he was up to; this might be the only chance he got. Zig zagging he tested the limits of what he could do. As long as he went in her general direction, he could go side to side. On the far left was a vendor selling wax candles and a thought popped into his head. Would the torc work if his ears were plugged?

  He ran hard for the candle maker, feeling the tension of the torc on his neck increase the further from Milly he got. Literally at the end of his leash, his throat tensed, squeezing shut on his breath.

  “Liam!”

  Shit, she was on to him. One last heave and he leapt toward the candle maker’s stand, sending the entire wares and the shop owner crashing to the ground. Fumbling in the mess, while the shop owner screeched creating a perfect diversion, he grabbed a chunk of soft wax and tucked it into the hole in the waistband of his khakis. It would have to wait for later, but it gave him a bit of hope that perhaps Milly hadn’t bested him yet.

  There was no way he was going to just lay down and let her win, not with his life, and more importantly, Rylee’s on the line.

  *-*-*-*

  Faris’ memories were not what I expected.

  In fact, there was no blood, no gore, no tearing of throats or even mutilated bodies.

  I was at a ball, one of those old school, big fluffed-up dresses kind of balls. Blinking, I stared around me, knowing that I wasn’t there, not really. A waltz played in the background, smooth and elegant; it seemed to be keyed to the dancers instead of the other way around. All of the couples who swept past me were vampires, the tilt of their heads, the tips of fangs glimpsed and then gone, showing me clearly what I was looking at. They weren’t trying to hide what they were. The thing is, there were only about thirty couples, which meant that every goddamned vampire in the world was attending this soiree.

  “I’ll be buggered,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. Faris wanted me to see a ball and some dressed up vampires? Was he trying to prove how civilized he could be?

  My feet didn’t move, but the view shifted and I was now across the room standing next to Faris. Not the Faris I knew, but one that was dressed up in a puffy shirt with long drooping lace sleeves, knee high boots with pants tucked in the top and several over the top bling-bling rings on his fingers. How very Lestat of him. Seeing him like this, I could imagine how easy it would be for him to find his victims. If he wasn’t a vampire, I could have acknowledged how good looking he was. No, that was too tame. Even in his ridiculous clothes, the vamp had “Fuck me, baby” written all over him. His hair was longer, trailing past his shoulders, but tied back with a leather thong. Icy blue eyes took in everything, softening here and there. That took me aback. Then he, Faris the vampire that had been trying to play some twisted wicked game with me, winked at one of the serving ladies. She was quite a bit older, dowdy, and obviously not used to attention from the vamps. She blushed and he gave her a smile.

  Well, I’ll be buggered, he was being . . . nice. I didn’t like it. I didn’t need my view of him challenged. A hazy feel of lips on mine, and my hand on a hard piece of decidedly male anatomy filtered through me. What was going on with my real body? Shit, this memory had better hurry up.

  The music faded and the crowd parted for a matched pair of vampires, a perfect set, thin circlets set on their heads. My guess was these were the previous leaders, the ones who’d been killed by none other than Faris. Emperor and Empress. They drew close to Faris, and so, of course, just as close to me. Even knowing they couldn’t see me, I stepped back.

  Red hair the color of dried blood flowed down their backs, and dark, almost black eyes regarded Faris with a cool detachment. They were beautiful, stunning, but in a sharp, cruel way that made me want to cringe.

  Faris went to one knee, inclining his head ever so slightly. A subtle gasp went around the room. How was I not surprised he would give them offence?

  “Faris,” the Emperor intoned, his voice rippling out over the crowd amplified right to the point of making you want to cover your ears. “You are being difficult again.”

  “My liege, never have I been difficult.”

  The Empress laughed and leaned forward, giving me an ample view down the front of her shirt. Small bite marks marred her creamy skin as far as I could see.

  “Nasty,” I mumbled and her head snapped up . . . as if she could hear me. I froze in place. Had Faris somehow transported me here? Fuck, I was so dead.

  “What is it?” The Emperor asked.

  She shook her head, eyes searching where I stood.

  “I felt someone, as if they were here, but not. A shadow of a soul.” She laughed, soft enough that her lips moved only fractionally. “It feels like the kiss of a lost one.”

  She might as well have grabbed me around the throat and squeezed. That was what Giselle had called me. Sort of. She’d said I had the Blood of the Lost ones in me. I took a breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. No, they couldn’t see me; I wasn’t really here. Was I?

  The Empress shook her head again, and then looked back to Faris.

  “You know the rules, Faris, and you know we have changed them.”

  “To favor your so-called child.”

  Again, the gasp went up around the room. I got the feeling no one took on the vampire royalty. Again, how did it not surprise me that Faris was doing just that?

  “Yes,” the Emperor said, smiling down on the still kneeling Faris. “We would favor her. She is the one the Empress saw, the one who will bring the world to its knees, and put our kind where they belong. Ruling the humans.”

  I grit my teeth. I didn’t like this, not one bit. But I had to admit, at least to myself, that it was fascinating to watch this little drama play out. The tension was building and I knew from experience that something big was coming.

  “That is a fool’s way,” Faris snapped, lifting his head to glare up at his leaders. “We would decimate the population; our kind is not meant to live that way.”

  There was a subtle shift in the room, a collective stepping back. Everyone was getting out of the way.

  Faris straightened his legs and stood, facing the redheaded vampires. “You would go against the very creed?”

  The Empress tipped her head and once more looked at me; I squirmed where I stood.

  “I believe you are challenging our right to rule. Is that correct, Faris of the muddied blood?”

  The vampire I stood beside shivered, his blue eyes going glacial.

  “You have no right to dictate.” He acted as if she hadn’t insulted him. “The Old One is to be asked and then the challenge given. That is the way. That is how we have survived each passing of our liege to the next.”

  Before the Emperors could respond, Faris lifted his hand, beckoning someone from deep in the shadows of the room.

  There was a shuffling behind us and a petite old woman stepped into view. She was ancient, her face a line of wrinkles, yet they were surprisingly pleasant. There was the look of a sweet old granny in her, and I struggled with that thought knowing that she was a vampire, the slightest flash of fang confirming my thought. She was dressed in a floor length grey shimmering gown that was offset by her long train of bright white hair. Her hazel eyes were clear though, sharp in their intelligence. Maybe the sweet old granny analogy wasn’t as close as I’d thought.

  The Old One came forward, using an ornate walking cane to guide her. Faris stepped back to allow her into the presence of the Emperor and Empress. The Old One did not bow nor scrape. She got righ
t to business.

  “I have seen in my visions the coming of a new dawn. Soon your bones will be dust and ashes.” Her voice had only a slight tremble to it. I wondered how old of a vampire she was if she looked and sounded as old as Yoda.

  The Empress put her hand to her chest. “You are not the only one with visions.”

  “I am the only one with true visions,” The Old One replied, surprising me with her strength and razor sharp sudden anger.

  Reminder to self, don’t piss of the Old One.

  She, the Old One, closed her eyes. “A Tracker must be found. One who carries the Blood of the Lost. That will be the deciding factor.”

  A murmur slid throughout the room, voices raised in questions not quite fully vocalized. But all I could hear was the Old Ones words rattling around my brain.

  The vampires were looking for me. Did Faris know that I had the Blood of the Lost? Shit, shit, shit! I had to get out of here. Panic spilled upward, and I had to clamp down on the inside of my cheek to keep from babbling that it wasn’t me they were looking for. A whole fucking nation of vampires, looking for me. Nope, that was not a good sign toward my longevity.

  The Old One lifted her cane again, pointing at Faris. “Whoever binds the Tracker to them will be able to seek out the last of the Blood. These are my words, this is my vision, this is what those who wish to rule must accomplish.”

  Finally the scene faded, and as I slipped away from Faris’ memory, I took one last glance back at the Empress.

  Smiling right at me, she blew me a kiss.

  16

  I came to slowly, confused by the sensations running through my body. Someone was breathing softly on my neck, just below my ear and a pair of well-toned arms held me upright. His hardness pressed between my legs, reminding me of the pleasure I’d been feeling only moments before. My head lolled.

  “Liam?”

  The arms around me stiffened, then let go, dropping me unceremoniously to the ground. With a grunt, I hit hard, remembering as I rolled what I’d just seen.

  And who had been holding me; what had we been doing.