Blind Salvage: A Rylee Adamson Novel (Book 5)
Page 2
Yeah, not exactly bedtime reading material.
Giselle had always told me prophecies were not to be ignored. But honestly, they were all so freaking contradictory, particularly when it came to comparing the demon’s prophecies to any other supernaturals. Black and white. So how could they both come to pass? That’s right, they couldn’t. I had to believe that. Giselle’s teachings, her words, floated in my head.
Different branches of possibilities. You know that. Don’t delude yourself, either side of a prophecy can come true dependent on people’s decisions.
Yeah, I did know it. I just didn’t want to think about any of the demon prophecies as being even remotely possible. Or of people being stupid enough to help the dark branches of prophecy along.
I slid into my seat beside Pamela in the back of the cab and shut the door. Or tried to. Agent Valley stuck his hand out and caught the door before I could shut it completely.
“Adamson, this is serious. The rumors that are flying—they make our little zombie problem from last month look like a picnic on a fine summer’s day. We don’t even know what the seventh veil is—worse, we have nothing on this Orion fellow. We need your help.”
I shrugged, did my best not to let him see my mind working. “Not my issue. I’m going home. And for the record, I don’t know what the seventh veil is either.” And that was the truth; whatever the veil fully encompassed, I didn’t know.
Liam slid into the passenger seat next to the cabbie.
Agent Valley took his hand off the door. “We think someone is trying to bring Orion through, to our side, and with everything I’ve heard about how very bad this demon is, I would think you wouldn’t want that.”
How the hell did he know all this? He’d gone from all but begging me to help him and his Arcane Arts division, to now knowing shit about the supernatural that we didn’t? The only answer was that he’d found someone to help him, someone who knew the supernatural. Maybe a Reader like Giselle that was my guess. Not that it mattered. If he got the information he wanted and didn’t need us, all the better.
I glared at him. “Guilt trips aside, who the hell would want a demon on our side of the veil, you moron? Find somebody else to do your dirty work. I find kids; I don’t go after demons. I don’t have what it takes to be some fucking superwoman.”
Liam gave the cabbie a nod and the driver turned over the key.
Nothing, the engine didn’t even sputter once. Fuck me sideways, it looked like Monday had struck again. I looked over Pamela’s head at Liam. “Too many of us.”
He gave a quick nod, and then opened the door. “Alex and I will meet you there.”
In other words, he would shift, and the two boys would run all the way to the point out in the bush where the cabbie would drop us off.
Pamela slid closer to me. “Will we have to wait for them?”
I snorted. “Not likely, they’ll probably beat us there, going as the crow flies.”
Liam and Alex disappeared around the side of the house. Agent Valley followed them, close on their heels. Shit. Liam would have to just deal with his boss without me.
“Ma’am, are you ready to go now?”
“Yes.”
I slammed the door shut and leaned back in my seat. The cabbie had no problem with the engine this time, and he maneuvered around Agent Valley’s black sedan.
Not a word was said, not one word. But my gut was rolling. Without a doubt, this news about Orion was bad … very, very bad. But I was being honest with Agent Valley. Demons were not my forte. Just look at what had happened when I’d tangled with the last one—a minor demon, on the scale of things. I’d almost died, and in the process, had nearly caused an apocalyptic winter. I was nobody’s hero.
Liam strode toward the back of the house, Alex tight on his heels.
“Running, Boss?” Alex panted eagerly, his ears flicking up and down several times.
“Yes.” Liam didn’t want to get in any sort of a discussion with the more submissive werewolf. While Liam liked him well enough, his wolf wanted very badly to remind Alex that he was still a submissive. Not that Alex stepped out of line very often, but there were little things.
Like Alex eating before him and Rylee were done. Or knocking into their legs, or pissing on the shrubbery around Jack’s mansion as if it was his territory. And the wolf in him was already on edge from dealing with Will and his pussy cat attitude. Will’s desire for Rylee was obvious, both in his actions and his scent, and it sent Liam’s wolf into a rage he could barely contain. All of that together set the wolf in him off something fierce and made him want to pin the goofy werewolf to the ground and force him to submit. The logical side of his brain knew that was ridiculous; Alex was zero threat to his leadership or his relationship with Rylee. But the other side … .
“Liam. We aren’t done yet.” Agent Valley called to him, bringing Liam’s feet to a standstill. Even with the wolf in him, there were too many years of obeying his superiors to just turn it off completely. Besides, he owed Agent Valley a moment of his time, if nothing else.
Even his wolf understood that.
“Agent Valley, there isn’t anything I can do to help change her mind, so don’t bother asking.” Liam placed his hands on his hips, his back still to his former boss.
Agent Valley caught up to him, out of breath, his face flushed pink even with the cool mist that floated down on them. Liam took a breath in, scenting the air around them. Agent Valley didn’t smell like he’d been hanging out with humans. There was something else clinging to him, a faint hint of rot, though … .
“O’Shea, I don’t think anyone could change her mind once she’s set on a course; Adamson is stubborn as a rock. That’s what my mother would say.” Agent Valley walked along beside him.
“Then what is it you want?”
Alex angled his head so he could stare up at Agent Valley with one big golden eye. “Yeah. What you want with Boss?”
Valley startled, a shiver visibly running through him. “He never ceases to give me the heebie jeebies.” Then, seeming to catch what he’d implied, he lifted his hands. “I’m sorry, no offense meant. I’m still getting used to the idea of the supernatural even existing. Never mind going for a walk with one of them.”
Liam grunted, but didn’t excuse his former boss. He was one of those supernaturals now. And though it felt as natural to him as breathing, and he wondered how he had existed without knowing the supernatural before, he did understand what Valley was saying. It took some getting used to. Hell, he’d been far more freaked out the first time he’d met Alex.
“How are you handling the transition?” Agent Valley tucked his hands into his coat pockets.
Liam would never tell Valley the truth. Since he’d been freed from Milly and then freed from the control of his own wolf, there was a good deal of peace in him. For the first time in his life he knew where each step took him.
Rylee. Always Rylee.
And being a werewolf meant that no matter where she went, or what she was up against, he would be there to protect her.
“The transition has been fine. Easy.”
“I thought when you’d run off, back home, that you’d lost it altogether. There are numerous cases where that has happened.”
Alex gave a low growl. “Fatty stupid head. Boss is strong.”
Agent Valley glared down at Alex, who glared right back up at the agent. Liam had to bite his tongue to keep from smiling. Instead, he cleared his throat.
“Agent Valley, I have to go.” He didn’t want to say he had to shift forms in order to catch up to Rylee and Pamela. “So if you have something of importance to share with me, I suggest you do it now.”
His former boss drew his eyes away from Alex and refocused on Liam.
“If you don’t want to work for us directly, that’s fine. But as a former FBI agent, I’d ask you to keep us informed of the goings-on that you observe.”
Liam’s eyebrows shot upward. “Goings-on?” He damn well knew where t
his was headed and he didn’t like it. They were in the backyard now, and Jack watched them from an upper window. He probably thought that they couldn’t see him, but the flutter of the curtains as the old Tracker stepped up to the window caught Liam’s eye.
Agent Valley flapped his coat with his hands still in his pockets. “We need to be kept up to speed on what is happening in the supernatural world. I have only one other contact, and between you and me, that makes me nervous. I can’t be certain the information is correct when it is only from one source. You are our best bet for additional information, as Rylee seems to be at the center of so much; hell, she’s nearly always in the thick of things. Will you help us?”
Liam crossed his arms over his chest. Rylee would be beyond livid if she found out he was secretly feeding information to the FBI and Agent Valley. Loyalty, though, was something Liam understood all too well. As loyal as he was to Rylee, he had a loyalty to those he’d once worked for too. And a part of him recognized that Valley was right. The Arcane Arts division of the FBI needed help and information badly.
He took a deep breath, the decisions weighing in his mind. He stuck his hand out, and Agent Valley shook it.
“Good man. I’ll expect you will have something for us on a regular basis, say once a week?”
Laughing, Liam shook his head. “You’ll get what you get and nothing more. Everything I can send you will be via snail mail. Electronics aren’t all that favorable around me anymore.”
Agent Valley frowned. “That will take too long; we’ll be behind the eight ball right off the start line.”
“That’s all I can offer.” He waited, knowing Valley would take him up on it. Liam also knew that, in a pinch, the AA division could be useful for Rylee; might even have information that she could use in her salvages. That was how he justified it; how he soothed the niggling thoughts that he was making the wrong decision.
“Fine. We’ll try it.”
Maybe it was some perverse pleasure he took in making his old boss uncomfortable, but he didn’t look away from him as he shifted. The wolf in him clamored up, eager to break free of the bonds of the human flesh that held him.
Agent Valley’s eyes widened and his face drained of color. “Mother of God have mercy,” he whispered as he stumbled backward.
Alex looked from Liam to Agent Valley and snorted. “Pussy.”
In the back of the cab, Pamela hummed a song under her breath, her toes tapping the floor. She was obviously restless, and though my body was still, I wasn’t much better. I pushed Agent Valley and his request for help with Orion aside in favor of other things. My mind swirled back to my conversation with Doran, just before he left for the states. A conversation I hadn’t even shared with Liam.
“Rylee, I need to speak with you.” Doran put a hand to my elbow, quickly dropping it when I glared at him. He wasn’t cowed by me, but I’d saved his ass by breaking the bond between him and Berget, and he wasn’t likely to forget that. That gained me some leverage that I would use whenever I had to.
He owed me and I would use that to benefit the salvages I would go after. We knew where we stood with each other, which was as it should be.
He led the way to the rooftop, the night sky clear of clouds for what had to be the first time since I’d been in London. The bite of the wind reminded me of home, and a longing to be away from this place shot through me. I knew that it had less to do with sleeping in my own bed than it did with all that had happened here. All that I’d had to fight through and the secrets that had been uncovered, even the questions that had yet to be answered.
Eve slept deeply off to one side, her head tucked under her wing, feathers ruffling in the breeze. At least if Doran acted up, I had back up. Not that I was worried, not really. More than once Doran had the chance to kill me, or at least the chances had presented themselves on a number of occasions.
I kept my voice low, so as not to disturb the Harpy. She didn’t do well being startled awake. “You want to tell me what this is about?”
“I think you need to understand what happened with the vampires, how Berget became what she is. I can give you everything I know. Which is a lot in some ways, and not near enough in others.” His green eyes were serious, something Doran didn’t do often. It made him look more mature, far less the punk rock boy he presented to the world, and more the powerhouse Shaman I knew he was. There was no teasing light in him, no double entendre to piss me off. This shift in him was almost as worrisome as his lack of control when he first showed up in London.
I turned my back to him and set my hands on my hips. I wanted to know, I needed to understand. But I had a feeling that knowing wasn’t going to make me feel any better about Berget and this current situation. I blew out a sharp breath between my teeth and turned back to Doran. “Tell me.”
He dove right in. “You understand that Berget was initially taken because of her blood, that she was one of those our kind can’t resist?” He lifted an eyebrow at me.
I nodded. “Louisa told me that, the first time I visited her.”
Doran clasped his hands in front of him and pursed his lips. “She was taken to be a gift to the Emperor and the Empress. A blood gift to secure the favor of Faris’ old master. That is why he was sent to steal her away.”
I grit my teeth. I was angry with Faris, but even angrier with myself that I’d let myself trust him, let myself believe that a vampire could be trusted. He was the start of all my troubles, the one who’d stolen Berget away and had set me on the path I’d walked since then. Regardless of who had ordered it, in my mind this all fell squarely on him.
“Are you telling me it wasn’t his fault?” Eyes narrowed, I glared at Doran.
He shrugged, unperturbed. “Most of those that are Fanged do not have the luxury of doing what we want. Depending on who holds the reins of power we can be used as they see fit.”
I could blame Faris for his lies, that was straight forward. But maybe I couldn’t blame him for taking Berget. I shook myself and pushed away that thought. No, I’d seen Faris there, seen the light of hunger in his eyes. He’d been hoping for a taste of her too.
Doran’s eyes slid to half-mast as he spoke. “When they got her back to Venice for the Emperor and Empress, it was apparent that the Empress was taken with her youthful beauty and sweet disposition.”
Six years old, Berget had been only six when she was taken. My guts rolled with disgust. “What do you mean by ‘taken’?”
The Daywalker shook his head. “Not like that.” He took a breath and shook his head again before he went on. “Vampires can’t procreate; they can’t have children unless they steal them. It was immediate, the bond the Empress had with Berget. I knew the Empress; she was my master before Berget. It was more than a bond of mother and child. It was almost like the Empress saw a future for Berget. Which wouldn’t surprise me since the Empress was a Reader long before she was a vampire. In the end, she chose to keep and raise Berget rather than … .” His eyes opened and he stared into mine, the air between us chilling. “It would have been better if they’d killed her, if there had been nothing more than a meal in your sister’s future.”
I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into the palms of my hands, the minor pain welcome and easier to focus on. It didn’t matter that I knew Doran was right. I just hated to hear him say it, hated that the truth sucked so badly.
“Keep going.”
“They kept her secluded, let her feed off them. That is the start of Becoming.”
The first memory Faris had shown me, I’d seen tiny bite marks all over the Empress’ body. Now I knew them for what they were. Berget’s bite marks. Nausea rolled up, hot and acrid as it coated the back of my tongue. I clamped my mouth shut, clenching my teeth until they ached. Doran waited for me, letting me absorb his words at my own pace.
My heart rate slowed back down and I waved him to go on, afraid that if I opened my mouth, I’d spew chunks all over the roof.
“I cannot tell you the ritual of how
a vampire is created, but” —he unclasped his hands to set them on his hips— “you will have to trust me that what I’m telling you is the truth, as far as I am able to share it with you. Becoming a vampire, it takes time. There is no instant creation—a one night blood exchange—as some would have you believe. Berget, the Berget you knew, became buried under the blood she was taking, of what she was becoming. Glimpses of her showed from time to time. A child full of love and compassion. I had hope that things would be better with her as a leader. But then … .” He shook his head. “I was there, when Faris killed her parents—”
I snorted and he lifted a hand to stall me.
“They were the only parents she recalled at that point. They’d made sure of it. And she saw Faris and his three brothers take on her parents. His brothers were killed, but he survived, barely, and finished the job, taking the Empress’ head and heart. Berget saw it all. She was fourteen at the time.”
I managed to speak around gut churning nausea. “That doesn’t explain everything. She knows me still. It’s not like her memories are all gone.”
Doran stepped closer to me, almost as if he would give me a hug. I didn’t step back, and he didn’t encircle me with his arms.
“When the Empress and Emperor died, they spilled their auras to her, giving her their abilities, their powers, the bonds they held over those that called them master, as well as their memories. She did not lose her own memories, but they are faint with the past staining them, and those older memories coating them. She is a child carrying the power of two ancient vampires and all that they know. She does not have the strength of mind to handle this, very few would. She is going mad. Slowly, but very surely.”
“And I suppose you want me to do something about it? Kill her and end her reign of madness?” Fuck, everyone thought I could be this supposed demon slayer or whatever the hell the prophecies were spouting. Why not be a slayer of psychotic vampires too? The thing was, a large part of me did want to save her, to bring back the little sister I so wanted to believe was buried inside. What if she could be separated from those memories and all that power? Could she possibly be brought back to some semblance of the Berget who was my sister?