Tracker Page 49
Tara moved in front of Milly, stopping her. “I will not leave. They killed my children, as if they were ants to be crushed under their heels. I will make them pay for this.”
“Be my guest.” Milly made a sweeping gesture. “But you will not get three feet into their presence before they do the very same to you. Though, they have ways of controlling people, perhaps they will use you as a spy and a puppet against the rest of your people. Would that be preferable to death?”
Tara’s face lost color, and her breathing quickened. “So we run away?”
“We plan.” Liam put a hand on her shoulder, doing his best to be gentle. “Too many witches, you saw what happened with those we dealt with. It was far too close for comfort.” The feel of a blade against his leg was still rather fresh in his mind. He didn’t discount there were times and places to be smart and back away. This was one.
Pamela sagged with relief. “I didn’t really want to fight them.”
“We should hurry,” Milly said, her gaze flicking around the room. “They will notice soon enough we aren’t drawing closer and they will come for us.”
Liam nodded and the four of them started to jog. A dark premonition slid over his skin and he felt Giselle’s words as if they hovered over him.
“Pamela, no matter what happens, you get the hell out of here. Understand? Take Tara and go to Giselle’s, wait for Rylee.”
Her blue eyes darted to his. “Liam—”
“Don’t argue, just do it,” he growled, the wolf in him wanting nothing more than to protect this pup. To keep one of his own safe.
The premonition grew as they approached the exit. He couldn’t stand it any longer. “Stop.” The three women stilled and he shook his head, hearing the sound of feet scuffling in the snow o inrew autside. They were trapped. “Milly, get them out of here. Jump them, now.”
Her green eyes widened for a split second and then she nodded, taking both Pamela’s and Tara’s hands. The veil opened and on the other side he saw the inside of Giselle’s living room. They stepped through as the front wall of the building exploded in shrapnel. He let the change take him, let the wolf have his head for the first time. In that moment, he needed the instincts of a survivor, not the instincts of an agent used to commanding others.
Spinning on his haunches, he galloped deeper into the warehouse, the air around him charged with electricity and magic.
This was going to get ugly, and there was no way to avoid it.
His only regret was not being able to see Rylee one last time. To tell her—
The ground in front of him erupted, concrete flying in every direction, shards driving into him. A chunk the size of his head smashed into his front right leg, snapping the bone. With a snarl, he went down, felt the weight of magic curling around him.
Pinning him to the floor.
Trapping him.
He closed his eyes and waited, knowing there was nothing he could do.
Not this time.
Chapter 18
I don’t know what I expected from Doran’s memories, maybe some enslavement, some pain. In a way, those would have been normal for a supernatural.
What I got was a past so riddled with overwhelming despair and horror it drove my own fears out of my head.
His whole life flickered in front of me.
Being snatched from his family’s arms when he was barely out of his teens, trapped by his maker for a hundred years in a life of slavery and debauchery that made my blood run cold. His escape, scrounging and scavenging to survive, the realization of being a shaman, the things he Read in others, the unimaginable sorrow of knowing those he loved were dying, or would soon be dead.
Loss, so much loss.
And yet through it all, he’d hung onto a belief that he was meant for better, and all he’d suffered had a reason behind it. That he wasn’t done yet. There would be a love great enough to save him.
Son of a bitch, under all that had happened to him, under all the loss and horror he’d suffered, he’d never really been broken, because he never allowed himself to give up. His heart would never let him grow dark in disbelief and cynicism. How long had he hidden this side of him from others, from all those around him? Apparently long enough that no one knew who he really was, and the strength of his heart and soul.
In that moment, and that heartbeat, I knew I’d made the right decision; Doran would lead the vampires better than Berget or Faris.
From a distance, I heard shouting, and the howl of a wolf. Hands gripped me and I knew I was getting close to having too much blood taken.
I lifted a hand and touched the side of Doran’s face. “I believe in you.”
Just like that, his mouth left my neck and I opened my eyes, the spell broken. He cradled me with one arm; the other held Faris inreom all t around the neck. Slowly, he released Faris, and the vampire slumped to his knees.
Faris rubbed his throat. “Rylee, you crazy Tracker. He’s stronger than me. How did you know?”
I smiled at Doran, knowing I could trust him. “I didn’t.”
Doran’s lips twitched and the differences in him were there. Subtle and yet profound. He’d always been good looking, but now he was downright gorgeous, the angles and planes of his face, the deep green color of his eyes drew me in … I looked away. No need to get bespelled this close to the finish line.
“I thought you trusted me,” he said, helping me to my feet.
I held onto his arm, my strength slowly returning. “I do. But you don’t know your own strength yet.”
Faris grunted. “Though you two might like to continue this lovely conversation, we have a Child Empress to kill.”
Tracking Berget, she was a hell of a lot closer than she’d been when we’d found Doran. Tracking the Blood next, I breathed a sigh of relief. Berget’s threads and the Blood weren’t overlapping. It seemed perhaps Jack was having the same difficulty I was.
Finding the Blood wasn’t the issue. We both pinpointed them. But getting to the Blood was a whole different ball of wax.
“Come on, this isn’t finished yet.” I let go of Doran, and the world swayed. I grabbed for Alex, who put himself under my hand.
“Alex gots Rylee.” He blinked up at me and I gripped the ruff in his neck tighter.
The Blood was close, so damn close.
The two vampires flanked me, exchanging glances over my head that I chose to ignore. I knew I was wobbly, my feet catching on every rock and dip in the ground, my breathing shallow. This was the price to giving my blood for Doran’s transformation.