Reminder to self, don’t piss of the Old One.

She, the Old One, closed her eyes. “A Tracker must be found. One who carries the Blood of the Lost. That will be the deciding factor.”

A murmur slid throughout the room, voices raised in questions not quite fully vocalized. But all I could hear was the Old Ones words rattling around my brain.

The vampires were looking for me. Did Faris know that I had the Blood of the Lost? Shit, shit, shit! I had to get out of here. Panic spilled upward, and I had to clamp down on the inside of my cheek to keep from babbling that it wasn’t me they were looking for. A whole f**king nation of vampires, looking for me. Nope, that was not a good sign toward my longevity.

The Old One lifted her cane again, pointing at Faris. “Whoever binds the Tracker to them will be able to seek out the last of the Blood. These are my words, this is my vision, this is what those who wish to rule must accomplish.”

Finally the scene faded, and as I slipped away from Faris’ memory, I took one last glance back at the Empress.

Smiling right at me, she blew me a kiss.

16

I came to slowly, confused by the sensations running through my body. Someone was breathing softly on my neck, just below my ear and a pair of well-toned arms held me upright. His hardness pressed between my legs, reminding me of the pleasure I’d been feeling only moments before. My head lolled.

“Liam?”

The arms around me stiffened, then let go, dropping me unceremoniously to the ground. With a grunt, I hit hard, remembering as I rolled what I’d just seen.

And who had been holding me; what had we been doing.

I used my momentum to roll up to my feet, facing Faris. He was glaring at me. I glared right back, embarrassed at how easily I’d fallen under his sway, how my body had responded to his.

“Who the f**k is Liam?”

Wow, he seemed really perturbed by the idea that it wasn’t him who’d turned me on. My eyes widened and I shook my head as much to clear the lingering arousal as to deny him.

“No. I’m not going to tell you shit.”

He drew himself up and continued to glare at me. I just didn’t know what was going on. The first time we’d met, he tried to enthrall me, and then he’d attacked me. Next, he helped me get rid of the demon venom (in a roundabout way), and now he seemed almost jealous of the fact that I hadn’t called his name after a minor tryst that my mind had barely been present for.

“What the hell, are you bi-polar or something?” I frowned at him. “Can you just make up your mind whether you’re going to kill me or . . .” Yeah, didn’t want to say that, no need to encourage him to—

“To kill you or . . . what?” He purred, his eyes trapping me. Shit, I’d walked right into this one.

I licked my lips, and his eyes tracked the movement sending my heart into a spiral of out of control thumps that I really didn’t want to analyze. “Nothing. Kill me or don’t. But no more games.” Okay, that sounded good.

Right.

He smiled, and it was the smile he’d given the dowdy servant in his memory. “I think we are just getting started. We got off on the wrong foot. I was working under a certain . . . assumption.”

“You need to leave. I have kids to find.” I itched to have a blade in my hands; vulnerability ate at me. And I was hoping that I could get him to leave, though I doubted he would do so before he was damn good and ready.

Pamela let out a groan and my eyes shot to her. She was swaying on her feet, gripping the back of the chair. “Rylee, what happened?” Her words were slurred as if she were still partially spelled.

Faris turned toward her.

I did the only thing I could. Two quick steps and I grabbed his arm, yanking him back toward me, our faces not more than a whisper apart. “Leave her alone.”

“You reek of fear, Tracker,” he murmured. “I like it.”

It took everything I had not to start shaking. He could pull me apart like a rag muffin doll if he wanted to. But he didn’t, he just lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips along my hairline.

“I’ll go for now.”

I didn’t dare take my eyes from him, as if I could somehow stop him if he tried something. Ha! If only it were that easy. He seemed to hesitate, his lips parting and then he stopped.

“You follow your heart too much. It’s a deadly way to be in our world.”

Then he was gone, slipping out the front door with hardly a sound. I slumped to my knees, remembered Alex, and stood back up, stumbling to where I’d seen him hit the wall. Even the Guardian we’d faced had not been able to knock Alex down, not like this. The werewolf was at a bad angle, his back clearly broken against the corner of the wall. The wall wasn’t looking so good either, but Alex . . . shit. His body was at nearly a ninety-degree angle. Backwards.

Shaking, I crouched next to him. “Hey, buddy, can you hear me?”

He didn’t answer but his tail thumped weakly, his body already putting itself back together. He would be okay, even with a broken back, but I had to straighten him out unless I wanted a crippled werewolf at my side for the rest of my life. Goddamn that vampire for making me do this.

“This is going to hurt a minute. But I have to do it,” I said. One big breath, and I gripped his hind legs and pulled them out straight, aligning his body, his spine crackling where it had begun to heal.

Alex let out a whimper, and then stilled, blessedly passing out.

I got a blanket and covered him up on the floor. Fuck, he would be sore for at least a couple of days. A spinal injury was the worst thing that could have happened; but at least he was alive. Fuck Faris and his need to show up at the worst possible time.

“You just rest, buddy.” There was nothing else for him now but to heal. The rest of the case was going to be on me and me alone.

Next, I moved to Pamela. Her eyes were only at half-mast, her lips drooping. I snapped my fingers in front of her face. Nothing.

“Pamela, wake up.” I said, clapping my hands. Again, nothing.

Prompting her, I led her to the kitchen, grabbed a glass and filled it full of water. “Come on, Pamela. I don’t want to get you wet, but I will.”

I shrugged—wet wasn’t all that bad—and flung the large cup of water in her face.

Gasping, her eyes flew open, and the cupboard doors ripped off their hinges and flew into the air as her power pulsed out of her. She spun, crouching as she scanned the room. Good instincts on her, at least.

“He’s gone.”

“Did you kill him?” She didn’t get up from the crouch.

“No, not yet. He’s stronger than me by a long shot. If I get a chance, well, that’ll be the day I end it for him. Vampires don’t give you many chances, though. That’s why they’re at the top of the food chain.”

Pamela shivered, eyes wide with fear. “I couldn’t stop myself, I . . . .” She knelt down, her shoulders shaking as she cried out the terror and the guilt. How did I know what she was feeling? Cause I was struggling with the same emotions. Faris just seemed to have that effect on people.

Helping Pamela to her feet, I led her to the bedroom and handed her some of my clothes. “Here, see if these fit.”

I went back out and checked on Alex. His big golden eyes were open. “Alex hurts.”

Stretching out beside him, I carefully put one arm across his middle. “I know, but it will get better.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. But you’re going to stay here until you’re better.”

He didn’t answer me, his breathing eased and he slipped back into unconsciousness. Good thing too, since painkillers wouldn’t have helped him any, at least no human ones. And I had nothing in my gear for something of this magnitude. What I needed was a Shaman, and I didn’t think I was going to find one of those over here in London.

“These fit okay,” Pamela said.

Lifting my head, I could only see that the bottom of my jeans had been rolled up at least three times. She was dry and ready to go.

Giving Alex one last stroke across his head, I dusted off my pants. “I’m going to get my weapons, and we need something for you too.”

“I have my magic.”

I snorted. “How’s that working out for you today, again?”

She lowered her head. “I said I was sorry.”

Maybe I was being too tough on her, but I knew what Giselle would say. Better that I was tough on her and she survived rather than the alternative.

“Don’t be sorry. Just learn. That’s your job now. You can’t always rely on your magic. You saw how Milly was able to be taken down?” Pamela nodded and I went on. “I didn’t even have any weapons.”

“So I need to learn to fight, like you?”

“Yes.” I handed her two of my blades, each on their own sheaths. “Take these, find a spot on your body where you are comfortable with them.”

She fiddled with the leather sheaths and straps for a moment while I put on my crossed back sheath.

“Where do you think I should keep them?”

I took the first one from her and had her turn around. “You right handed?” She gave me a nod and I went to work. “I like to keep one in my lower back, sideways like this.” I laid the sheath perpendicular to her spine, the handle easily reached by her right hand.

“The other one . . .” I motioned for her to lift her left leg and I strapped the smaller blade to her calf. “Lots of people strap their knives too low; all that does is impede your ability to run.”

Her blue eyes widened. “Run?”

“From the bad guys.”

I finished getting my gear together and then gave Pamela a once over. Bedraggled was the first word that came to mind. Her hair was damp and knotted, her clothes were too big and her eyes too wide. I tentatively Tracked her, getting the gist of her emotions.

Fear was at the top of the list, followed by guilt, and then uncertainty.

The kids were waiting on me, as was O’Shea and Berget.