Tracker Page 54

Alex grinned up at me. “Alex kicks ass.”

I reached a hand and touched the top of his head. “You sure did.”

He continued to grin, a horrible twisting of lips and teeth that was as goofy as ever. But behind that grin, I felt a change in him. Submissive to me, maybe he always would be. The submissive werewolf he was, though, with everyone else, that part was gone.

Going home would be interesting.

Home. The very word made me ache for it.

I could only hope I had a warm welcome and Liam wouldn’t be pissed as hell with me for being gone so long, and leaving so much sooner than I’d thought, and without even saying goodbye.

I let out sigh and leaned against the wall, the stone cool against my skin.

Yeah, Liam would be pissed. Maybe he’d even try to punish me for it.

A grin slipped over my lips.

Yeah, one could hope.

Chapter 20

Alex and I were kicked out for the final parts of the ceremony, which was fine by me. All I could think was that we’d done it, that I’d kept my oaths to Faris, and still managed to fulfill a prophecy. And I was still alive.

Lying in the back of the truck, I stared at the wide open sky. Dawn approached, which meant the vampires were eto of wiither getting their asses in gear, or staying another full day.

I almost didn’t care.

Almost.

Alex lay stretched out on his back beside me, his eyes at half mast, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. “Vampires coming.”

“About fucking time,” I grumbled. With all the battering and blood loss, I was sore and grumpy. Even thoughts of Liam’s arms around me weren’t helping.

We both sat up and the three vampires stood at the side of the truck. I shook my head at them. “Stop sneaking around. Make some noise would you?”

“Alex hears them.” He grinned at me and almost—almost—winked.

Doran held out his hand, his eyes serious. “Come on, you have to go home. We”—he motioned to himself, Berget and Faris—“have business to attend to.”

The soft shuffle of feet drew my eyes and attention. Al and the remaining shamans limped out of the cave and gathered around the opening. Hands raised to the sky, they started a chant, their feet drumming into the hard, red earth, splashing in the puddles that had accumulated, in time with their voices.

Ayers Rock answered them. A low-pitched hum emanated from the giant rock.

I backed away. “Seriously?”

“They are closing the entrance. No need to have a human wander in and cut themselves,” Faris said, for once without a trace of condescension.

It took seconds for the rock to blend and meld, the entrance gone as if it had never been. Sweet baby Zeus—that was some magic trick. The shamans backed away, one by one, melting into the darkness around the rock. Except for Al, who came toward us, a book in his hand, a wry smile on his face. “I didn’t know why I needed to take this with me, but it seems fortuitous for you.”

I knew what it was. I hopped out of the truck and met him part way. “This is the journal?”

He smiled, though I saw it was strained. How could I think we hadn’t lost much? Six people died. Shit, I really was getting calloused.

“Yes, this is your mother’s journal. Rylee, you have done your family proud tonight. You fought where you could, but allowed those around you to fight as well. That is the mark of a leader, one who knows when to let the troops take the brunt of a battle.”

I swallowed hard and lowered my eyes. “That doesn’t bring your friends back.”

“No. But we all knew the possibilities when we took on this calling to watch over the old ones.” He rested a hand on my shoulder, giving me a squeeze, but said nothing else. Just turned and walked away.

The journal was a thin, spiral bound book with a black cover. Nothing fancy. I didn’t dare open it, not yet. I needed a time of quiet to finally meet my parents.

“You ready to go?” Faris asked.

I glanced at him, took in his disheveled appearance, the fatigue in his eyes. Berget wasn’t really looking that much better.

“You sure you can manage dropping us off?” I lifted an eyebrow at him, baffled by the trajectory of our—what would you call it—relationship? Friendship? Neither really applied, yet what did you call a person who’d alternately saved and threatened your life?

Fucked if I knew.

Faris swung his hand and twisted the veil. On the other side was the front porch at Giselle’s housselidth="18"e, sunlight dimmed by heavy snow clouds. I didn’t question him. It was time to go home.

“Let’s go, Alex.”

The werewolf bound ahead of me, through the veil, and barreled into the house with a howl of excitement.

“You will find me when you’ve done your business?” The question was meant for Berget, but all three nodded.

Good enough.

I stepped through the veil, into the early afternoon of the day before. Weird, very weird.

Here, the equinox hadn’t occurred yet. But I’d already lived through it. I shook my head and walked into the house to hear … crying?

“Pamela?” I pulled my swords, gripping the handles tight. “Alex?”

“Are you Rylee?”

I spun to face a woman I’d never met and looked suspiciously like a Troll.

I didn’t answer, just whipped my swords forward, stopping them at the base of her neck. “Who the fuck are you?”

Her pale pink skin paled even more. “My name is Tara. Liam saved my life.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know. Milly brought us here and then left to help him.”

Help, why the hell would he need help from Milly? I Tracked both Liam and Milly. They were together and they were both afraid, even if it came through differently in them. Liam’s was a fury born of fear, and Milly’s was a terror born of fear for her child. Only one of them was hurt.

Liam.

I lowered the tips of the swords. “Where’s Pamela?”

“I don’t know, I went to lie down for a moment and when I opened my eyes she was gone.”

“FUCK!” I was, to say the least, not happy about this. I Tracked Pamela. She wasn’t far, just down the street. “Tara, stay here.”

She nodded, and I bolted for the door, forgetting it was like barely 15 degrees outside, if I was lucky, and I’d just come from 130. I sucked in a sharp breath, my lungs seizing up. “Alex, go get Pamela. Hurry!” I opened the door and he galloped out, nose buried in the snow. I slammed the door and ran upstairs. Extra clothes I had stashed away, and I could finally get out of this fucking dress. Easier to be mad at the clothing than worry about my friends. It took me less than a minute to change into jeans, layered tops, boots and another heavy winter coat. Not my leather one; that had been lost somewhere along the way. Damn, I hated to break in new leather, but looked like I might have to. Again, easier to think about a new coat than worry about those I loved.

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