“Fuck!” I knew he almost had me. I could feel my resistance to him slowing. For all I was worth, I clung to O’Shea’s emotions.
“Let go of him.”
“No.”
“Do as I say, Rylee.” His words were so insistent; I wanted to do as he asked. I wanted to please him.
My body shivered, caught between the two men. I had nothing left to fight, and his lips covered mine, his tongue plunging into the depths of my mouth. Power flowed between us, and he ground his hips into mine, his desire obvious. I wasn’t Milly, but I knew an out when one was given to me. Still hanging onto O’Shea’s emotions, I kissed the cloaked man back until his arms went around me, sliding down over my hips, cupping my ass against his ever hardening body.
His hands started to strip me out of my clothes and at that moment, I sensed his loss of control. He couldn’t fuck me and keep a handle on my psyche at the same time. Still, I kept my eyes closed. I didn’t want to see his eyes, those icy blue eyes that sucked me in like some sort of vortex. I had a feeling if I looked him in the face, no amount of control lost on his part would save me.
Instead, I started to strip the cloak off him, pulling it over his head, and the horny fool let me. Like a hockey player starting a fight, I lifted the cloak up, got it halfway over his head, tangled it, and shoved him backwards, kicking out at his left knee. The joint gave way under my foot, and he screamed. Thank you, Doran, for that little gem.
I spun, yanked the door open and tumbled through into the caves. Without a goddamned light. All the Coven members were dead, so all of their Witchlights were out.
In the pitch black, I was unable to see my hand, let alone know where I was going. But, I had a plan. In a manner of speaking.
The plan was to follow along the edge of the wall until I hit the bodies of the two witches we’d killed. If the woman was still alive she could make a witch light; if she wasn’t, surely one of them would have something on them I could use. Surely.
Of course, three steps in and the door behind me opened. The man—sorcerer—whatever the fuck he was, was right behind me. With a light. Well, that would work. I bolted down the cavern with him right on my tail. Even with his busted leg, he was fast. The upside was he was no longer trying to control me. The downside was that I knew if he wasn’t trying to control me, he was going to try and kill me.
Arms pumping, sweat dripping down the side of my face, I could taste the dusty cavern on the back of my tongue with each desperate breath I took. Fingers grazed the back of my jeans giving me an extra spurt of adrenaline.
We raced through the cavern and turned a corner that turned into a near spill for me. As I looked up from my scramble, I could see the harness dangling, like Manna from heaven.
Three feet away, I leapt for it and started to climb, but he was too close and latched onto my ankle before I could get out of reach.
“We’re not done yet, Rylee.”
I didn’t answer, and just kicked out with my free foot, catching him in the forehead, snapping his head back. A flash of white fangs and those icy blue eyes made me scream.
Vampire, he was a vampire.
The rope was nearly yanked out of my hands as someone began to haul me up. I fought my urge to flee and the urge to drop back to the ground to try to finish him off. Berget, my Berget, had been taken by vampires.
Self preservation kicked in and I clung to the rope as it—and I—were pulled to the surface. Hanging from the rope, I had time to think, time to ponder. But I did nothing. I let my mind go blank, let my fear hold me onto the rope for the lifeline it was. I was yanked from the mineshaft and slapped into handcuffs. My Miranda rights read to me. My mind numb. I was unable to believe what had just happened, and I didn’t fight them.
From below, the vampire called up to me. “I’m not what you think I am, Rylee. But not to worry, we’ll meet again. I promise you that.”
For the first time in my life, I was grateful for the police. Of course, at that particular moment they were arresting me for multiple murders of FBI agents, not to mention I was in league with the rogue former FBI Agent O’Shea, and being accused of being the leader of a kidnapping ring. The moon had risen since we’d been in the mineshaft, the soft light picked up the blood more effectively than if we saw it under the bright light of the day. Even to me, it seemed surreal, and I was used to the weird and supernatural side of the world.
They shoved me into an armoured transport vehicle, two FBI agents in with me, their guns visible and their hatred of me, a cop killer in their eyes, obvious. I didn’t care. At that point, all I wanted was to sleep, and I knew a jail would be as safe, or safer, than any place I could find. The one bright side was that I knew O’Shea and Milly would get the two kids to safety, and with that thought tumbling through my mind, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
26
Getting the kids to the hospital was the first priority; a close second was getting Adamson back to the human side of whatever the hell she’d crossed over.
O’Shea drove, careening into the hospital parking lot, all the while wondering at why Milly had insisted they leave. Once India was settled and Jake was rushed off into the emergency room, the witch grabbed him by the arm and dragged him outside, finally answering the question he’d asked what felt like a hundred times on the drive to the hospital.
“You don’t get it, Agent; we can’t get her back from that route, we have to go to where the two of you came in. If it’s still open, she has a chance.” Her eyes flashed bright green at him.
He nodded. “Okay, but then we’re going to have to hurry.”
A shuffle behind them, one of the nurses that had admitted the kids, cleared her throat. “Excuse me, are you Agent O’Shea?”
Surprised, he started to say yes, but thought about the belief that he was a cop killer, and the word froze on his lips.
He needn’t have worried, the witch ratted him out.
“Yes, he is,” she said.
“There’s a phone call, urgent. Agent Valley, he said his name was.” She beckoned them inside.
O’Shea’s surprise turned to shock. Valley was second in the bureau only to Jessop Darlington. O’Shea took a breath, knowing the phone call was either going to be very good, or very, very bad.
He just didn’t know which one.
*-*-*-*
Jail wasn’t so bad. Not if you overlooked the smell of urine and vomit under the pine-scented cleaner that had been used. I was in my own cell, a single hard bed with no mattress, a toilet and a sink. Of course, it wasn’t a jail, not really. I was in the holding cells below the Bismark police department. I had a couple of neighbours, but they were both sleeping off the party from the night before by the sounds of it, though I suspected they’d added to the smell I couldn’t get away from. Pacing, I mulled over my options.
Sleep hadn’t come as easy as I’d hoped. My mind had been unable to let go of the fear and inability to fight back that man, vampire, whatever he was. Then there was O’Shea. I kept checking in with him, and the emotions were freaking me out a bit. Surprise, pleasure, happiness. Had he slept with Milly? It wouldn’t surprise me, not when it came to my best friend. But then, why was there a sudden stab of anger that rode shotgun to that thought?
Nope, not going there.
Footsteps sounded down the long hallway that was the only way in or out. My heart clenched; what if it was the vampire? There was no way I could get away from him, not here. It was the middle of the night and totally plausible that he could walk right in and snatch me.
Two black suits came into view, mirrored glasses and an almost comical resemblance to “Men in Black.”
“So, which one of you was played by Wil Smith?” I leaned a hip against the bars. “I mean, you’re both white, so . . . .”“ I lifted an eyebrow at them.
“You need to come with us, Ma’am.” They opened the door, cuffed me, and escorted me down the long hallway, up the stairs and out the front door into a waiting black van. Just like t
he ones that had been chasing us. The Arcane division was not something I wanted anything to do with. I hadn’t even had a chance to read through the papers I had on them yet.
Slumping backwards, I leaned against their hands. “I think I’d rather stay in jail, to be honest; black vans and I just don’t look good together.”
They said nothing, just picked me up, opened the door, and tossed me in. The back of the van was dark, only splashes of light from the street lamps peeked in through cracks near the back door. They drove for close to three hours, long enough to get us well out of town, long enough for me to slip the cuffs from back to front and try the door multiple times.
When the door slid open I launched myself out into the early morning sun, the wind whipping my hair around my face, blurring my vision for a split second. I stumbled to a stop. We were at my house.
“Inside. Move.”
Now, thoroughly confused, I did as I was told.
Stepping lightly, I climbed the steps. The front door was slightly ajar, so I pushed it with my shoulder and peeked in. Sitting in my living room was O’Shea, Milly, and a man in a suit who had to be FBI by his posture alone, but I didn’t recognize him. Older, he had streaks of grey in his light brown hair. Brown eyes that looked as though they might have flecks of green in them were his best feature. His face was jowly, nose offset, and it looked as though he had an overbite. But there was an air of confidence that made me think he was in charge.
The stranger stood. “Ms. Adamson. My name is Agent Valley.” He motioned at my handcuffs. “Here, let me take those off for you.”
O’Shea stood. “No, I’ve got it.” He stepped over to me and I tried not to look him in the face, tried not to think about him and Milly in bed together. She always did move fast. He unlocked the cuffs, his fingers lingering for split second on my wrists.
Ignoring the others, I asked him the only question that really mattered to me. “Did the kids make it out okay?”
He smiled, really smiled, and I hated how my heart tried to flop about in my chest like a fucking Labrador retriever whose best friend just showed up.
“India is back with her parents, though I think you need to speak with them still. And Jake is in intensive care, but it looks like he’ll pull through.”
Relief swept through me. Two kids were back where they belonged. Now I could finally shift gears and deal with the rest of my crazy life.
“Please have a seat, we have a lot to discuss,” Agent Valley said.
Frowning, unable to even guess at what was about to happen, I shook my head. “No, I’ll stand.”
He shrugged. “Fine, fine. You’ve been exonerated of any charges relating to the deaths of the Agents at the mineshaft.”
“Why? How?”
Valley shrugged. “We know it was a Harpy. Nothing to do about that but post men to keep people away from the beast.”
Shock rippled through me; my jaw dropped and I shut it with an audible click. “But . . . what . . . how?”
“We are a part of the Arcane division of the FBI, Ms. Adamson. We know a great deal about the supernatural and we’re doing our best to manage the interactions between them and humans. It doesn’t always go well.” He barked out a dry, humourless laugh. “As I suppose you already know from your own experiences with the law.”
“Okay,” I said. “Fine, you know about us. Good for you. What does that have to do with me?”
Valley nodded to O’Shea. “Liam here has also been exonerated, though he can’t go back to the division he was in. Even though we have a plausible cover story, we can’t convince all the other Agents that the death of one of their own, by one of their own, was acceptable.”
Both of my eyebrows shot into my hairline and before I could ask, O’Shea explained.
“The story is that Martins was in on the child-kidnapping ring and that he shot at me first. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I showed up at a hospital with two of the missing children and the bodies of two others.”
Valley leaned back in my favorite chair and stretched his legs out in front of him; short as they were, they didn’t even reach the coffee table a mere two feet away. “We’ve pulled Liam into our division. But” —he raised a finger— “he needs a partner. Someone who is savvy to the ways of the supernatural elements of this world, someone who can help him, and in turn help us.”
I folded my arms across my chest, the tightening of bonds and responsibilities I didn’t want creeping in around me. “And if I don’t agree to this?”
The senior agent shrugged. “Nothing. This is not blackmail. We need you. You’d be on payroll of course, and would have access to all of our training facilities, weapons and any equipment you’d need.”
“Could I still go after my own cases?”
He shook his head. “No, anyone who comes to you would then be put through the system. Of course, you’d still be bringing children, people home.”
Licking my lips, I looked to Milly. She shrugged ever so slightly. “I need to think about it.”
Valley agreed, stood, and handed me his card. “Call me when you’re ready to do the right thing.”
I had to hold back an urge to strike out at him for poking at my weak spot. Guilt was the one thing I couldn’t escape, the one thing that drove me more than any other, and of course, those shrewd eyes that had a moment ago seemed kind, saw that in me.
Valley left, but O’Shea stayed behind. Milly stood, touched the agent on the shoulder and said, “Call me.”
He nodded, his eyes tracking her as she left the room. I didn’t have any right to feel upset. Milly always got the guy. It was nothing new. Ignoring my traitorous emotions, I faced O’Shea.
“What about your partner, Martins? Will his name be blacklisted?” It was stupid to ask, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. How could I be his partner? It wouldn’t work. We were too different.
“His family will get a sizeable payout, and his funeral will be all paid for. No expense spared. It was the best they could do. Until the government decides to let the general populace know, it’s the best we could come up with.” His shoulders sagged. “I want you . . .”
My breath caught.
“. . . as my partner.” His dark eyes lifted to mine. “But I’d understand if you turned it down.”
Nodding, I said nothing, for once somewhat speechless. I wanted to go back to the days where I felt nothing for this human standing in front of me. Nothing but contempt, anger, maybe even hatred. Simple to feel those things, not so simple to start caring.
“I’ll let you know.”
He nodded and brushed past me, the scent of his cologne and the mint I remembered from his lips catching me off guard, making me sway on my feet.
The room was silent, but for the steady breathing that was my attempt to calm the confusion rushing through me.
A sniffle at the door caught my ear. I lifted my hand, not needing to turn around. “Alex.” There was the scrabble of feet on the rough wooden floor, and then a large furry body wrapped around my legs and helped to ground me. I crouched down and hugged him; buried my face into his neck.
“Rylee sad,” he grumbled, his arms awkwardly circling me.
“A little. But I’ll be okay.”
“Harpy sad too.”
I’d forgotten about that little detail. I stood, brushed my face off as though I wasn’t crying and strode to the door. “Where is she roosting, Alex?”
He bolted out the door and I trotted after him. He made a beeline for the half-rotted barn. Pushing the door open, I stepped into the mote-filled air. The light streamed through the broken slats and gave a picturesque scene, if not for the Harpy dozing in the old hay.
“Eve?” I didn’t step any further into the room. As it was, I could leap out and slam the door if I had too. Alex, though, had no qualms. He trotted forward and stuck his nose under her chin. “Evie.”
She fluttered awake, her eyes blinking slowly. “Hello, Tracker.”
“You can call me, Rylee,” I s
aid, my hands itching for a weapon, even though she had claimed sanctuary with me. Harpy’s were not trusted for a reason.
“Rylee, then. I chased away the pack that was here; it didn’t take much.”
That explained that. Maybe having a Harpy around wouldn’t be all bad. I nodded my thanks. Alex, though, didn’t hold back, almost throwing himself at the young Harpy; she brushed him off, but not in an unkind way.
“What are you going to do?” Her voice was devoid of any emotion.
It hit me that she was depressed, which made sense. I’d lost my sister, I knew what it was to lose a beloved sibling and think you should have somehow saved them.
Breathing in the scent of hay and years of dust, I made my way over to her, sat down, and talked. About Berget, about my life, about how I wanted to save those kids who got snatched. Her eyes went wide as I opened up to her like I’d only ever done with Milly, and Eve seemed to sense it.
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
By now Alex was laying across my lap.
“Because I know what it is to be lost, to want to find your own path, one that can maybe redeem the past,” I said, my voice thick with sorrow even to my own ears.
She nodded slowly as she took it all in. “May I help you? Would you let me?”
That was not expected, and it was my turn to nod slowly. “Yes, you could help me. But I have to ask, Eve, how can you be so accepting of me? I killed both of your sisters.”
Her feathers fluffed up. “In our culture, it is the strong who survive, the strong who are revered. You were able to kill my sisters; they were not strong enough. You outsmarted them. I would learn from you so that I do not follow in their footsteps. It is often our way to train with those who have killed our family members.”
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