RYLEE (The Rylee Adamson Epilogues, Book 1) Read online

“You’re stoned or drunk or both. I’m not interested in your blood, you piece of shit.” I dusted off my clothes, proud of myself. Sure, it had been close, but I’d pulled back, I’d reined it in. “I suggest you leave, though. Before I change my mind.”

  My mistake was believing he was afraid. I turned my back on him, heard the click of the gun’s hammer, the report and the slam of a bullet into my lower back, all within the space of half a heartbeat.

  First thought in my head was what the actual fuck? How was it that this time the gun decided to work around me? The second thought was far simpler. I was going to kill him. Blood lust roared through me, and I snarled, unable to keep the sound back.

  I spun on my knees as the ping of the bullet falling from my back bounced on the floor, my body pushing it out so it could heal. “Big. Fucking. Mistake.”

  He fired again, and this time, the bullet went wide. “I’ll kill you!”

  I’ll admit, I laughed, the sound rolling from me, deep and sonorous. A perfect villain’s laugh. “Not the first time someone’s said that.”

  I pulled a knife from my side holster, flipped it up into my hands and threw it. End over end, it flew true. The blade burrowed into his forehead, pinning the stunned look on his face for eternity.

  The gun fell from his fingers and he rocked back on his heels, falling to the ground. “Damn it. This was not how things were supposed to start on this salvage.”

  A groan from the front porch drew me around. “Levi.”

  His eyes slowly blinked up at me. “Did you kill him?”

  No point in lying now. “Yes.”

  “Good. He was raping her. I tried to stop him and he locked me out of the house. No one believed her because she slept around.”

  My stomach clenched and I suddenly wished I’d drawn out Daryl’s death. “Your sister, you mean he raped your sister?”

  Levi nodded. “Yes. I just found out.” He looked up at me, his eyes far older than his physical age. “What do we do with the body?”

  I crooked a finger. “Come inside.” He wobbled in and shut the door, as best it would with the busted up knob.

  I went to the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialing Charlie.

  “Sees, I knew yous would bees needing me.” Charlie laughed.

  “I’ve got a body I need to get rid of. Asshole was raping his daughter and shot me in the back.”

  “No, he fucking didn’t!” Charlie yelped. The line went dead and seconds later the brownie stepped out of the bathroom. That was a nifty trick of brownies. They could travel from place to place via doors and windows. How the hell he knew exactly where I was whenever I called him, I still had yet to figure out.

  “What are yous thinking?” Charlie poked at the body with his peg leg.

  “I’m thinking a hungry critter is about to get a meal,” I said. “You got anything in mind?”

  Charlie squinted one eye shut and nodded. “Yup. I do. I’ll get a clean-up crew here by tonight. Think you can keep things quiet until then?”

  I glanced at Levi who was staring at Charlie. “Kid, you think anyone will notice your dad missing the next bit?”

  He shook his head. “No. He doesn’t have a job and no family besides me and Belly.”

  “Belly?”

  He shrugged. “Belinda, Belly is her nickname. Only I use it.”

  I moved into the living room, looking for a blanket. One hung over the back of the couch, and I pulled it off and flipped it over Daryl’s body, leaving his head exposed. I pulled my blade, wiped it on the blanket, and then put it in its sheath. “Charlie. Thanks.”

  “Just find the girl. Yous know that’s the only thing matterin’ to me,” Charlie said.

  “Levi,” I pointed at the staircase that led to the second floor, “is her room up there?”

  “Yeah, but the cops didn’t find anything. I thought you had other ways to find her.” He rubbed the back of his head with a wince.

  “Show me anyway.” I ignored the second bit. No point in telling him I had at one time had other ways to find his sister.

  He skirted the edge of his father’s feet and I wondered if at some point he’d realize, like really understand his father had been killed only steps away from him. If it would haunt him. Or if it would make him feel vindicated.

  “He’s angry at your sister for running away because he couldn’t use her anymore, isn’t he?” I asked.

  “Yes. That’s why she’s always run away in the past. I just didn’t know it. She finally told me and we made plans to go together this time. That’s how I know she didn’t run. She wouldn’t have left without me.” He glanced back, the pain in his eyes I was sure had nothing to do with the injury to the back of his head and everything to do with his sister’s disappearance.

  He stopped in front of a plain white door. What struck me was the fact that there was no poster, no paint, no name engraved on it. Girls liked to decorate what was theirs, marking their territory with glitter and stuffed animals, makeup and feather boas. Pamela’s room already had her mark on it, books and pictures cut out of magazines of clothes, even though we knew we might not be there much longer.

  I pushed the door open and stared around. The room was sparse. As if it were a barracks and not a little girl’s room. I frowned as I did a slow spin, taking it in. The closet was open, a few clothes hung, and two pairs of shoes sat on the floor. That was it. “Did they clean it out?”

  “No, this is how she kept it.” He stepped to the side and I went in. I was going to have to scent for her, to get the smell imprinted on my brain. I took a deep breath and held it in my mouth, slowly blowing it out over my tongue. There was a hint of perfume, body wash with some sort of berry I couldn’t quite identify, and tears. And something else. Semen.

  Fuck me sideways, the anger that rose in me had a life all its own. I froze as if I were the prey and my anger the predator searching for me. I didn’t want to smell the truth of her father raping her night after night. My jaw ticked as I struggled with the anger that lit up every nerve ending, the slow burning rage as I thought of my babies being hurt like Belinda had been.

  I put both hands to my eyes and held my breath as long as I could.

  I made myself step farther into the room and breathed in all the scents. There was something else, now, like something had been burned. A cigarette maybe? I grabbed the edge of the bed sheets and pulled them off. The mattress bounced and the sheets came free, and under them was a tiny burn mark, similar to the shape on her father’s face. Almost like a finger imprint. “Did the police see this?”

  “Yes. They said it was from her lighting a joint.”

  “Did she smoke weed?” I didn’t look over my shoulder at him. The burn was way too big and oddly shaped. Not unlike the shape on Daryl’s face. I didn’t need to see Levi’s face to tell if he was lying. The pause was enough. Something wasn’t adding up. The burns on Daryl’s face and the burns in the mattress being nearly identical? Neither mentioned by the cops? That was odd, to say the least. More likely it had to do with whatever supernatural I was dealing with. “Never mind, I’ll figure it out.”

  “Look, she isn’t a bad person. She smoked weed because it made things bearable. It took her away from this shit,” he blurted.

  “It’s okay, kid. I’m going to find her.” The words escaped me before I could catch them. Fuck. That was the last thing I needed to be promising. I didn’t even know where to start with her. There was nothing here, no hint, no clue to go on. A dead end if I ever saw one.

  A gust of air blew out of him. “Thank you.”

  I ransacked the room, breathing in everything, tasting the air over and over. Identifying everything I could. Perfume and soap, sex and that faint burn were at the front of everything.

  What I needed was Alex, with his nose pressed to the floorboards. The image hit me and I knew what I had to do, no matter how humiliating. When it came to finding kids, I had no pride. I would use everything I had at my disposal to find her, even if it meant dipping i
nto the dark vampire blood in my veins.

  I dropped to my knees and stretched out on the floor ‘til I was as close as I could get. I drew in a breath and there it was . . . something out of place. I army crawled across the floor to the boards directly under the window. The edge was raised ever so slightly, maybe an eighth of an inch. I pulled a small knife from my boot and stuffed it into the edge, prying it loose by working it back and forth.

  The board lifted with a creak and the smell I’d picked up on grew stronger. I settled into a crouch and pulled items out of the small space under the floor. A set of keys, a roll of money, a plastic bag of weed. But that wasn’t what caught my nose.

  I pulled out a slim piece of shiny stretchy material attached to a business card. I held the material close to my face and drew in a deep breath, holding it in my lungs. An image flickered in front of my face. That of a supernatural I’d dealt with before. Or at least the same kind of supernatural.

  A incubus. Eater of energy via sex, and in the last case, the girl taken had been Alex’s little sister. I looked at Levi, and the sincerity in his eyes. The awkward limbs, the desire to protect his family. The asshole father. I shivered. I didn’t like when things started to look like old cases. That made me nervous.

  The last time that happened, I started a journey that led me to battle a demon horde for the salvation of the world. So, yeah, this was not looking good.

  “When did she go missing?” There was a time limit involved here, too. A incubus wouldn’t keep Belinda around forever. He’d drain her and move onto the next girl.

  “Two months.”

  I fought the cringe. Two months? She was dead. I didn’t have to be a Tracker to know it. “Levi. This is bad. I don’t think she’s alive and I need you to understand that before we go further.” I turned and faced him. His eyes welled with tears as I went on. “Two months with the monster I think she’s with and the chances of her surviving are zero to none. Do you understand? I may not even be able to bring her home.”

  Gods, that was the first time I’d ever said that. The first time I ever admitted I might fail at a salvage.

  His chest heaved as he nodded. “But I . . . can you try to bring her home?”

  I bit the inside of my lip before I answered. “Yes, I can do that much for you. I’ll do what I can. But I can’t promise it.”

  Levi’s shoulders slumped and tears dripped to the floor. “I took too long. I should have come for you sooner.”

  It was only then that I realized he was taking this all rather well when I spoke of a monster. I stepped closer to him, close enough that my face was almost in the crook of his neck. I drew in a big breath, as deep as I could. Nothing but human. “How much do you know about the supernatural world?”

  I stepped back and he lifted his head. “More than I want to. Mom was . . . what he said. She liked guys and one of them she brought home when her and dad were broken up once. He was magic. He could do things. He knew things.” The words tumbled out of him like a wound finally opened to drain.

  I put a hand on his arm, squeezed it once. “Forget everything he told you, Levi. And stay away from that world. Humans don’t survive in it.”

  “That’s why Belly died. Because she’s human?” He wrapped his arms around his chest.

  I didn’t like candy coating things. “Yes.”

  I gripped the material in one hand, the staples that held it to the business card digging into my palm. I had a store to visit, even if it made no sense as to why this would be where a incubus lair would be. I’d seen a lot of weird things and this was up there.

  I hurried down the steps, nodded at Charlie who stood guard over the body, and stepped onto the front porch. I suspected it said something about me that I could kill Daryl without feeling bad, but more likely, it was the simple fact that I’d learned things the hard way. Kill or be killed. Fight or die. The vampire I’d become took that to a new level, a level I didn’t like.

  Then again, when someone shoots you in the fucking back, you make sure they don’t ever do it again. I rubbed at the already healed spot on my lower back. The bullet would have made a good memento if I’d thought to grab it. Not too often you survived a direct hit like that.

  In my Jeep and on the road, I placed the business card on the dashboard. Bismarck was turning into a veritable hotbed for supernaturals doing business, but I would never have suspected the place I was headed to.

  What self-respecting bad guy worked out of a flower shop?

  Seriously.

  CHAPTER 3

  I PULLED INTO THE parking lot of the flower store and turned off the Jeep’s engine. I stared at the front plate glass windows. So this was the bad guy’s lair? A baddie who lived, owned or worked at a freaking flower shop did not have one ounce of respect from me. Then again, I didn’t really care as long as I could find the kid and bring her home. A bad guy who didn’t chop me into little pieces or live in some dank cold cave was actually a nice change for once.

  “No complaining,” I said to myself.

  Reaching into my bag, I mulled over my options but settled on my favorites. I tugged out my long leather whip, the strands woven with silver filament for maximum pain on supernaturals of a variety of flavors, and looped it so it hung from my left hip. I grabbed my two swords, and as I stepped out of the Jeep, I put them in the sheaths that crisscrossed my back.

  I’d had two new swords made and Pamela had spelled them to cut deeply and be stronger than any man-made steel. They were as good, maybe even better than, my old weapons lost in the battle. That being said, I still missed my old blades.

  The door of the flower shop was glass and inside I could see an older woman putting together some sort of floral arrangement. I pushed the door and a tiny bell dinged over my head. The place was hot, steaming almost as though it were a lush, exotic paradise. The soft titter of a bird somewhere overhead beckoned but I didn’t dare take my eyes from the woman at the counter. Never assume a little old lady is just a little old lady. Not when hunting a incubus.

  “Hello, welcome to Magic with Flowers. Can I help you with something in particular?”

  I held up the card stapled to the long piece of stretchy material. Material that looked like it was used in the floral arrangements by the looks of things. “I want to talk to the owner.”

  She adjusted her glasses on the edge of her nose. “Mr. Camos is not in today, but I’m sure I can help you. We have a variety of flowers, right now. A fresh shipment came in this morning.”

  “I doubt you can help me. I need to speak to him. Now.” I did my best to refrain from saying fuck. I was getting better at curbing the bad language, especially around the babies and old ladies. Well, except for the neon green shit explosions the last few days. Those had deserved a few cuss words. Maybe all of them.

  “Again, I’m sorry, but he isn’t here.” She gave me a smile tight around the edges like I was stupid for being stubborn. I took a few steps toward her and she didn’t back up. Her eyes flicked to mine and I knew what she was looking for. The telltale swirl of three colors that would mark me as the Tracker. But my eyes were normal now. Or normalish. I drew a breath and picked up a hint of Troll that made the hair on the back of my neck rise.

  I bared my teeth, no longer worried about playing nice. I knew what she was. “Where the fuck is Camos?”

  She wrinkled up her mouth and spit a gob of green mucus that reminded me of the shit I’d already cleaned up. “Get the hell out of here, fang face. We don’t serve your kind.”

  I burst out laughing. “Wait, does that really work for you?” I pulled a sword from my back and her eyes widened.

  “Tracker.” She breathed out the title. I grinned.

  “No. I’m much nastier now.” I pointed the sword at her, holding the tip steady on the fat end of her nose. “Camos. Get him here now.”

  The door dinged behind me and I grabbed my second sword and swung it out to point at whoever it was without looking.

  A strangled squeak erupted fro
m whoever it was and the door dinged as they ran out. I didn’t take my eyes off Adelaide, per her tag, but I doubted it was her real name. “Dial the phone.”

  She reached across the counter without moving her head. “He will suck you dry, you stupid bitch. You should have stayed dead.”

  I raised an eyebrow, doing my best to defy her without saying a word. Because the truth was, the last time I’d faced a incubus, I’d gone down without a whimper. Alex was the only thing that saved me.

  And I had no Alex with me this time. “Stay close to me, buddy,” I whispered. For a moment, I felt pressure against my thigh, as though a large warm furry body was supporting me. I didn’t dare glance down. But I could have sworn I caught movement, a shadow of a ghost. The darkness around me receded a little.

  The troll dialed the phone. I pressed my sword a little harder. “No tipping him off. Just get him here.”

  “Mr. Camos. I need you to come to the shop. It’s urgent. They sent the flowers you hate again.” Adelaide glared at me, the skin around her eyes sagging as her human covering slipped. Whatever magic she used to keep it tight was not holding up under her anger.

  I heard him on the other end of the line. “The flowers I hate? I don’t hate any flowers, you know that . . .Oh my gods. You mean the Tracker, don’t you?”

  “Yes, those flowers. The ones you have always hated. You know the ones your brother choked on when he tried to eat them.”

  I rolled my eyes and flicked my second blade through the curled phone cord. “Subtle, you fucking aren’t.”

  She snarled and jerked back, the tip of my blade cutting off the end of her human nose. What I didn’t expect was a blast of magic to curl off her hands. I recognized the spell, one that would glue my arms to my sides as though I was bound with ropes. I didn’t even duck. I was Immune and the spell would bounce right off.

  Except I was no longer Immune. I’d lost that along with my ability to Track. Which meant I was banded the instant the spell hit me, my hands slamming to my sides, and the only thing able to move was my wrists. Lucky for me, I still had a sword in each hand.