Immune Page 26

Dox clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on him. When he’s ready, he’ll tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

The ogre just smiled at me, but didn’t pull me back into a hug. Eve cleared her throat. “Rylee, I must ask you something.”

Ruffling her feathers, the Harpy ducked her head. “I would like to stay here for some time. Eagle has agreed to train me. But not forever, I would come back to you, in a few months.”

This would be good for her, to train with someone who could fly with her. And it would keep Milly from harping—bad pun, I know—at me.

“Are you sure,” I asked, not wanting her to think I was happy she was staying, though a part of me was sighing a large breath of relief.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

I gave her a nod, and headed toward the front of the building. “You did good, Eve. Just come home when you’re ready.”

She gave a screech that made the hair on my body stand at attention, and then a whoosh of wind curled around me as she launched into the air.

“Keep an eye out for her, Dox,” I said, striding through the building.

“Of course, and you take care of yourself, Rylee.”

Deliberately, within sight of O’Shea and the SUV, I turned and hugged Dox, keeping one eye on the agent. His jaw tightened and his hands flexed on the steering wheel, but at least he didn’t get out of the vehicle.

“Always pushing the boundaries,” Dox muttered, patting me on the back. “Get out of here, before you start a brawl.”

I laughed, but my heart was feeling bruised at being such a bad judge of character. I didn’t think jealous was a word I could have applied to O’Shea, and wouldn’t have until he yanked me away from Dox. “You’d squash him like an overripe melon.”

Dox’s face sobered. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Giving me a little shove in the direction of the SUV, he waved at Alex who was already in the back of the vehicle, bouncing like crazy.

Good times, just me, a werewolf, and a cranky, jealous FBI agent on an eighteen-hour run back to North Dakota, most likely through a snowstorm.

Good times indeed.

He drove as if he were alone, silent and staring straight ahead. The snowstorms that had chased them south had eased off, and the driving was simple enough. So what was his problem? How about the wild rage that had gripped him when the ogre hugged Rylee? O’Shea was not a possessive man, never in his life had jealousy been something he’d had to deal with. But it was like a light switch had been flicked on and his only thought was to tear off the arms of the one who was holding her.

That was not a good sign. And with each mile they drove in silence, the gap between them widened. He thought about her sweet pleas as she writhed underneath him, whispering his name as they clung to each other. Now, she wouldn’t even look at him.

“If you’re going to yell at me, just do it. I know I was an ass.” He said, gritting his teeth as the admission fell from his lips.

“Dox is one of my closest friends. I will damn well hug him if I want to.” She snapped, her eyes flashing as she pinned him to the seat with her gaze. “You think because we had sex, you have ultimate say in my life?” She rested her head in one hand. “Fuck, what was I thinking?”

That stung.

He took a slow breath, breathing in her scent, as if that alone could tell him what to say. She was hurt, and angry. A trickle of fear tickled his nose. Fear? How could he smell that?

Swallowing hard, he said nothing, his own fear rising up around him like a fog. Agent Valley had been right; O’Shea should never have slept with Rylee. No, that was a lie—he’d do it again in an instant.

“How’s the kid?”

Rylee closed her eyes briefly. “Sleeping.”

“Still?”

“Yeah, I know. Even drugged, I haven’t felt him even sort of wake up, not once.”

Alex bounced in the back seat, and O’Shea gave him a frown. Slinking, the werewolf slumped into his seat. “No fairseezz.”

Rylee turned in her seat. “What’s no fair?”

Alex pointed at O’Shea. “Boss man.”

She looked from the werewolf to O’Shea, then back again, her eyes taking in more than O’Shea was comfortable with. He wasn’t sure he knew what was going on; he sure as hell didn’t want her figuring it out first.

“You want to tell me something,” she asked.

This was it; this was the moment to tell her what he was afraid of, what he suspected had happened. She would understand, of all the people in his life, she would be the one to get it.

He stared out at the landscape they were passing through, the snow sparkling in the sun.

“Nope.”

The slight grind of her teeth was the only thing that tipped him off. And how the hell could he hear that anyway, it was quieter than a mouse’s fart? Clamping down on the emotions that roared through him, he fought the fear. This was a battle that had nothing to do with her, and there was nothing she could do to help.

So why did it feel like he was betraying her with his silence?

17

North Dakota was socked in, the whole freaking state a complete white out. Apparently, it hadn’t been all my and the demon venom’s fault that winter had come early.

As we drove into Bismarck, the feeling of Ricky in my head intensified, his heart beating steady and rhythmical. That, at least, was a good sign.

“Where are we going first?” O’Shea asked. No longer was I thinking of him as Liam, the sweet, generous lover who’d watched over me in the sweat lodge. Nope, he was relegated back to being the a**hole agent who stuck around just to watch me fail.

Though I did have to give him a small amount of credit. One of the few things I could say I liked about the FBI agent at this moment was that he listened to me and followed my lead when it came to the supernatural. I had no doubt that would change once he got his legs under him in my world. But for now, it was super handy.

“We go after Ricky. It’s been too long already and I’ve got most of the things we need in my bag. We’re only another ten minutes away.” I curled in my seat, focusing on the kid. I couldn’t believe with all the detours and time we’d had to take, we were still going to make it to him before that asshat of a Troll did anything. I had to believe that.

“Do you have a plan?”

Yeah, that was the sticky part of this. What O’Shea didn’t know, but would soon enough, was that Trolls rarely worked alone. Sure, I’d duped the dumb ass, one-eyed bastard before, but that had been only one. How the hell was I supposed to extricate a kid from a raging angry Troll, and all his friends?

So I fudged. “Working on it.”

O’Shea looked in the mirror, his eyes full of the disbelief I knew I deserved.

Adamson was not a happy girl. The vibes rolling off her stated more than words and O’Shea knew it was his fault. He should have just told her what he suspected.

Damn it, even now his mouth was all but glued shut.

He kept his hands tight on the steering wheel, stalling his desire to reach over and touch her, assure himself she was still with him. That he hadn’t messed up so badly that they couldn’t come back from it.

They came up to an intersection and he slowed down. “Adamson?”

“Well, at least we’re in agreement on what we’re calling each other,” she muttered, probably thinking he couldn’t hear her. “Go straight,” she said, in a louder voice.

He did as she said, ignoring the fact that the road he was going straight on was a one way. With the weather, there weren’t many people out on the roads anyway. He also ignored the fact that she apparently was not going to be calling him Liam anymore. Damn it all, how had he screwed this up so fast?

Alex was surprisingly quiet, for which he was grateful. It was still hard to look at the werewolf and not think it was some costume and special effects makeup. Particularly now. He shivered to think of life stuck between two forms, forever a monster. A cold sweat broke out on his back.

He slowed again as they came to the end of the one-way street. “Where to?”

“Give me a second.”

Watching her out the corner of his eye, he could admire the shape of her face, the intensity in her eyes. She was a woman worth fighting for, but he was f**king terrified of what was happening to him.

Staring out into the dark night, she said, “He’s straight ahead of us.”

All that was in front of them was a neon sign, half of the words missing. It should have been blinking ‘Blitz and Blue Tattoos.’ As it was, it said, ‘Bli . . . nd B. . . at . . . s.’

“Blind Bats. Not great advertising,” O’Shea said, pulling the SUV over to the curb. He didn’t need to ask Rylee if she was sure. He knew her well enough to know better than to waste time.

“Blind Bats is a Troll species, probably the best kind of code they could come up with. Trolls aren’t known for being particularly smart, or subtle.” She slipped a few more weapons into her jacket.

“Anything I should know before we go in?” He unbuckled his seatbelt.

There was silence for a moment, and then she leaned forward so her face was only inches from his. The swirl of her tri-coloured eyes hypnotized him, drew him in even closer.

Her lips were moving, and he tried to put the words together. “You aren’t going to try and stop me? You aren’t going to go bananas if I use the illusion of sex to make them drop their guard?”

“I can’t promise you that. But I will try . . . .” He was unable to stop his traitorous hand from tucking a strand of auburn hair behind one of her ears. “Best thing I can do is go in there with you and keep you alive.”

Alex butted his head between them. “Me toooooooo!” His howl echoed in the car and they shushed him.

O’Shea put his hands up, “Yes, you can keep her safe too!”

The werewolf snorted and bobbed his head. “Yuppy doody, damn it.”

Laughter spilled out of Rylee and O’Shea shook his head. Damn, she was beautiful, inside and out.

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