Shadowed Threads (7 page)

Chapter 9

F
uck it all
to hell and back. How the hell was I going to do this?

“Eve, we need to go back to Jack’s.”

“For Pamela and Alex?”

“Yes. They need to be with us.”

Eve let out a screech that made me cringe and the skin on my neck crawl. Even though I trusted her, there had been more than one time that a Harpy had tried to eat me. Even Eve had at one point sized me up for a McRylee Meal.

She tipped her body to the left and I clung to her with my legs. I really, really had to get a harness set up for her. But with the way my life had been going, there just hadn’t been time.

There was never enough time, it seemed.

Before long Jack’s mansion came into view.

Along with the Beast, pacing below us. Apparently, we hadn’t moved fast enough this time around. Damn, I should have asked Eve to fly faster.

“Rylee—”

“I see him.” I slipped a hand into my pocket. These were for O’Shea, but if I had Pamela with me they wouldn’t be needed. “Land near the pond and then go get Alex and Pamela. Make sure Pam gets my jacket and her weapons.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to slow that big kitty cat down.”

The Beast watched us as we circled to the opposite side of the pond. I slid from Eve’s back and loosened up my one sword, pulling it free of the sheath. Eve swept across the pond, screeching in the Beast’s face as she went by him. But he never even turned her way, his gaze solely centered on me.

“Do you know that you’re being compelled?” I asked as the Beast crept around the pond, stalking me. I kept time with him, like a ridiculous game of ring around the rosie. The only thing left to be seen was which one of us would fall down first.

His voice rumbled across to me, surprising the shit out of me.

“Yes, I know I’m compelled. When I am free of the compulsion, I will kill the woman.”

Sweet, at least Daniels’ death wouldn’t end up on my shoulders.

“No chance we could break the compulsion?”

“No. You will die. For that I’m sorry.” His black lips rippled back over his teeth and he sprinted around the pond.

I pulled a grenade out of my pocket, yanked the pin with my teeth as I ran and threw it at him.

“
Capio
!”

The grenade exploded in a haze of silvery light and sparkles, blurring my vision. The Beast leapt out of the magic made dust, fog, whatever the fuck it was. Shit, it hadn’t worked—or had I missed him? I bolted around the pond, fumbling for the second grenade. If this one didn’t work, I’d be forced to stand my ground, and I knew how that would end. Badly, oh so badly.

Maybe Deanna’s spell wasn’t supposed to work on the Beast; that was possible too. Maybe she’d made it specifically for O’Shea, or a wolf.

I didn’t have a lot of time to think about those possibilities. One second I was running, the next my legs were swept out from under me and I was flat on my back, the wind knocked out of me.

The Beast loomed over me, one front paw pinning my legs, the other planted firmly on my chest, making it impossible to breathe.

“I will avenge your death, Tracker,” he said as his lips drew back over his pearly white fangs.

My fingers slid around the grenade and I frantically worked the pin with my middle finger. Shit, this had to work, it had to. The pin popped out and as the Beasts head dropped to my face I shoved the grenade deep into his mouth, my hand swallowed deep into his throat.

With the last breath in me, I whispered, “
Capio
.”

The Beast froze, his eyes bugging wide and he stumbled backward off me, and then he collapsed to the ground beside me.

I rolled to my side, stared into his silver eyes.

“Well played, Tracker. Well played.” His words were a whisper as his body twitched. “You won’t have long before I revive. Perhaps only minutes. Run while you can.”

This was too bizarre. I shifted to my knees, then climbed to my feet and jogged toward the mansion. Movement caught my attention, and I watched as Eve climbed into the sky, two figures with her. I continued to run toward them, glancing back several times to assure myself that the Beast still lay prone on the ground and hadn’t snuck up on me on silent pads.

Eve swept down and I climbed onto her back, tucking myself behind Pamela. Eve held Alex in one talon; there just wasn’t enough room for him to ride on her back.

“Rylee, I knew you’d come back for us.” Pamela glanced over her shoulder, her blue eyes full of trust, and a bruise blooming on the side of her face where Daniels’ thugs had knocked her out. Damn.

“I almost didn’t.”

Her eyes dulled a little, but that was just it. I didn’t want her to think I was infallible. Quite the opposite, if you looked at my track record.

Eve flew us across the channel and as dawn broke we landed in a farmer’s field on the outskirts of a town.

The Harpy hopped on one foot, flipping a sleeping Alex out of her grip so she could land easily. He tumbled with a yelp, scrambling awake, his eyes round with that look people get when they’re startled awake. Like they aren’t really seeing the real world yet, but still inside the dream they’d been dreaming.

With a full-bodied shake he turned to glare up at Eve. “Not funny, Evie.”

She snorted. “Did you want me to land
on
you?”

He sneezed, scrubbed at his muzzle with a paw, and then shook his head. “No throwing Alex!”

They continued to banter back and forth as Pamela and I slid off Eve’s back.

“Rylee …”

I glanced over at Pamela, who was rubbing her hands over her arms. “What?”

“Are we stopping here to rest?”

This was the part I’d not really considered. Alex and Eve could keep up with me, but Pamela was still a kid, and a kid who’d been treated pretty shitty-like prior to me finding her. If I was on my own, I’d start Tracking O’Shea and be leaving right away. But with Pamela along for the ride … .

“I’m just going to get my bearings, give Eve a chance to rest for bit, and then we’ll be flying again. You can sleep in the air, okay?”

She bit her lower lip and nodded. “Okay. I’m kinda hungry.”

“Alex hungry too.”

The werewolf went from chattering at Eve to scooting himself in front of me, tongue lolling out. “Starving.”

I took in the area. The farmhouse would be as good a place as any to grab something to eat. After all, this was France, the land of good food, good wine, and sexy men. At this point, I’d take the first on the list and ignore the other two.

“You three stay here.” I pointed at the spot I was standing on and Alex almost shoved me over trying to plant his butt where I pointed.

With a shake of my head, I started off toward the farmhouse across the field. As I walked, I sent out a thread to Track O’Shea. There was a whisper of him, faint, kinda like he was across the Veil that separated the human world from the hidden supernatural realms, but that wasn’t quite right, either.

I stopped and concentrated on the feel of him. He was there, but it was like the signal was being blocked. To the east and the north, he was at least on this continent and then it was as if the thread I’d tied to him was cut. Not like he was dead, or across a large body of water, which blocked my abilities, but cut in half. I Tracked him again, or tried to, got nothing, and then the faint thread that was O’Shea fuzzed again. Still to the north east. Like a crappy radio signal dipping in and out of reception.

But this was weird; I’d never felt anything quite like this before. I started to walk again, mulling it over in my head. I knew we didn’t have long on the ground; there was no way the Beast would give up so easily, and I had no idea how long Deanna’s spell would hold him for. Food was the first thing, and if I was lucky, the farmhouse would have a phone that I could use to call Jack.

I kept Tracking O’Shea, or trying to. His threads continued to blur in and out of focus. Like one minute he was there, the next he was gone. What the hell was this garbage?

Approaching the farmhouse, I slowed my gait, but walked right up to the front door like I belonged there. No need to go skulking around in the early morning. I tried the doorknob and it turned easily in my hand. Hard to imagine anyone being so trusting in this world anymore.

Stepping across the threshold, I did a quick sweep of the room with my eyes. Nice furniture, older but well kept, a TV and one wall covered in photographs. Family shots mostly, some school pictures, pictures of people who had nice, normal lives.

If only they knew what had just crept into their home. A shot of embarrassment zipped through me. I made my way through the house, noting the exits, the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. Typical two-story farmhouse. The kitchen was at the back and I hit the jackpot. Rifling through the drawers I found a good-sized paper sack and moved quickly, stuffing it with food. Homemade bread, cheese out of the fridge that looked homemade too by the light coloring, three oversized sausages, a couple of apples, and a glass jug of milk. I’d just have to make sure Pamela ate first or Alex would eat it all, the piggy werewolf.

I slung the sack over my shoulder and looked around for a phone. There on the wall was an older style rotary phone, which was perfect since I wasn’t sure one of the new cordless ones would work for me. I moved to the phone, freezing when I heard a creak of floorboards upstairs and the soft back and forth of voices. Shit, I didn’t want to face anyone; it was bad enough I was stealing their food.

I lifted the phone and dialed Jack’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

“Got to be you, Rylee, feels like I’m picking up the phone with no one on the other end,” he grumbled.

“We’re fine, you’re okay?”

“Fine, just fucking dandy.”

“O’Shea’s threads are fuzzing in and out.” I spoke in a rush, the creak of the stairs making me talk fast. “Why?”

“Hmm. Not sure.”

“Hurry. Time crunch.”

Jack took a breath and then coughed. “Could be the wolf has taken too much of him. If he’s lost to the wolf, it isn’t really O’Shea you’re Tracking anymore. If you’re getting a bead on him now, that’s good. But you might run out of time. Might end up having to Track werewolves in general and hope to hell you can find him that way.”

I didn’t answer him, just hung up the phone and moved to stand behind the kitchen door, blocking me from sight as the farmer’s wife padded into the kitchen. Her grey hair was braided down her back and she wore a calf length nightgown, white with pink flowers on it. She’d lived her life probably never even knowing the supernatural was real. I didn’t want that to change for her.

Denning was wrong. Bringing the supernatural into the open would turn it into a clusterfuck of massive proportions. Even though the supernaturals were stronger and faster, there were far fewer of us than them. If it came down to it, we would be overwhelmed with sheer numbers. Like ants, the humans would swarm and devour the world of the supernatural.

As the farmer’s wife bent to pull a frying pan out, I slid around the side of the door and jogged quietly to the front door, slipping through it without a sound. These people didn’t deserve to be robbed, or to have some great hulking Beast show up just because I’d been here. Let them live their lives not knowing about the supernatural, let them be in their world of family, farming and long white nightgowns that would never be used to sop up blood.

I jogged back to my three wards. Three, how the hell had this happened? Jack was right. I had to start saying no. If I didn’t, there wouldn’t be much time before I was stringing along a fucking circus behind me on every salvage I went after.

I handed the milk to Pamela, portioning out the rest of the food between her, Alex and myself. Eve took one of the sausages, but nothing else.

The three of them chattered away at each other and I stood back, watching them. They interacted easily, as if they’d known each other for years, and for a split moment it was as if I saw them ten years from now. Older, wiser, still working together. They would make an amazing team, and when that time came, I knew they wouldn’t need me anymore.

This was their training grounds, and I was their mentor as Giselle had been to me. More than ever before, I felt the weight of that on my shoulders, the responsibility I had to them and to the world, to make sure they were trained up right. To make sure they didn’t end up causing more harm than good.

The last thing the world needed was more supernaturals like Faris.

Or worse yet, more supernaturals like Milly.

Chapter 10

E
ve announced she
was ready to go not long after Alex had polished off the last of the food.

As we rose up into the clouds, I looked down, expecting to see the Beast below us. What I wasn’t expecting was the blow from above.

The only warning we had was a rush of air, the back draft of a wingspan that dwarfed us. Glittering, scaled talons struck hard and deep; they buried themselves into Eve’s body, pinning my legs to her. I expected a Harpy, thought maybe we’d crossed into territory that was already taken. I looked up, shock snapping along my nerve endings.

Pamela screamed, Alex barked, and the noise only added to the confusion of what I was seeing, of what my mind—so used to the supernatural—struggled to accept. Scales of green, silver, and blue rippled in the dim sunlight and the leathery wings that spread above us obscured my vision from anything but what I was looking at. Triangular head, four legs, big fucking wings, long tail that cut through the air like a rudder. And scales. Lots and lots of scales.

A dragon, fuck me, an ever-loving dragon had us in his talons. Teeth that looked as though they were shards of steel glistened just above us, but no fire escaped him. Or maybe it was a her, I had no way of knowing. Either way, we were royally fucked. I didn’t think for one instant this was going to be anything other than a fight to the finish.

Eve struggled and then went still below me, the calm in her voice surprised me. “Rylee, I can’t break free and I think my wings are broken.”

Without a sound the dragon banked hard to the right, taking us south, away from O’Shea. Though at that particular moment O’Shea was the least of my worries.

I couldn’t take my eyes from the beast above us, knowing that even if my swords bit into the dragon’s skin and he dropped us, we were dead in the air without Eve’s wings. “Yeah, this could be a problem.” We were going to have to wait until we landed. I gave Pamela a light shake. “Screaming isn’t going to help, and it could attract more attention from other supernaturals. Which would be …”

She sucked in a sharp breath and let it out in a rush. “Bad.” She finished for me, her eyes full of unshed tears.

She bit her lower lip and muffled the sounds escaping her. Fear, pure and simple. Alex hung below us still, Eve clinging to him, and he was still barking like a mad man, but again, that was the least of my worries.

I whispered into Pamela’s ear. “When we land, you and Alex run for it. As far and as fast as you can. Got it?”

“What about you and Eve?”

“We’ll be right behind you.” Lies, I was lying to her and we both knew it. This was going to get ugly and the best thing I could do was send her away. The best thing I could do was try to protect her, even if that meant Eve and I didn’t make it. What the fuck had I been thinking bringing them with me? I should have gone after O’Shea by myself. I was a fucking moron.

“I can help,” she said, her eyes wet with tears.

Eve answered her. “Your magic will fail on the dragon. They are Immune like Rylee. You cannot help us; do as your mentor says.”

Oh, fuck, Immune? We were done, toast. Maybe in the most literal of senses.

The dragon let out a roar and suddenly we lost altitude with a speed that yanked Pamela out of my hands. She screamed and I reached up, grabbing her as her ass floated above Eve’s back. I yanked her back down, the leverage I had with my legs pinned to Eve’s side working in my favor.

“I gotcha.” I held her tight against me, my heart in my throat. I Tracked O’Shea, feeling him in the north, then Tracked Berget, feeling her closer, here in the south. She was happy, ecstatic about something. I held tight to Pamela.

This felt like goodbye to me, felt like there would be no more after this. How did you fight a dragon who was an Immune like me? You didn’t. You ran or you died. Eve couldn’t run, so neither would I. Which only left one option that I wasn’t particularly happy about.

Dragons were rare, something you didn’t hear about anymore, their numbers cut by disease and the use of their body parts for powerful spells. All I knew was that they killed intruders of their territories without mercy, and that they didn’t bargain with their captives.

Ever.

The dragon sped toward the base of a mountain, and I grit my teeth against what I knew was going to be a sudden stop.

With a back wash of leathery wings our downward descent stopped and again Pamela was jerked out of my arms, despite how tightly I held her.

“Rylee!”

I managed to snag the back of her pants. “Get ready to run, you got that? Alex, you too, you look after Pamela. Protect her, got it?”

His reply was a shaky, “Yuppy doody, Rylee.”

There was no cave, just an indentation in the mountain, like a half-assed box canyon. At the back there were piles of bones, corpses of animals both natural and supernatural, in several stages of decomposition. At the front ‘entrance’ of the canyon were piles of boulders, each one at least the size of my Jeep back home. They partially blocked the canyon, giving the illusion that there was nothing beyond them.

“I’m sorry, Rylee,” Eve said, her voice trembling, the fear leaking out with her words.

“Don’t be sorry yet, Harpy. We aren’t done until the blood spills and we aren’t breathing anymore,” I said, trying to figure out a way to get our asses out of this mess.

The dragon touched down and I pushed Pamela off Eve’s back. She hit the ground with a grunt, rolling with the fall, cradling her left arm. Eve dropped Alex and he herded Pamela away, the two of them running as fast as they could. Pamela glanced back as they reached the edge of the indent in the mountain, a determined look on her face. Ah, shit, apparently she was as bad as me when it came to taking orders.

“No!” I shouted, but I was too late. The young witch threw one hand in the air, lifting three massive boulders from the entrance and then, with a flick of her fingers, flung them one by one at the dragon’s head.

The first one caught him on the side of the head, smashing him sideways. He roared, but more importantly, he let go of me and Eve.

The Harpy crashed to the ground, the puncture wounds from where the dragon had pierced her oozing blood. Her wings were crumpled, as if they’d been made of tinfoil and flexi straws instead of bone and cartilage.

“Run, Rylee,” Eve yelled, dragging herself across the ground. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m getting mighty pissed with all this running. Freaking Beast of Bodmin Moor and now a dragon? Nope, no more running,” I said, loosening my swords. Above us, the sky lit with a crack of lightning followed by a ridiculously close boom of thunder, the clouds bursting open as if the lightning peeled away whatever held the rain back.

“It’s the dragon,” Eve said, dragging herself along the ground. “He is controlling the weather.” Oh, that was just fucking peachy.

The dragon turned to face us, hatred burning in his eyes, which was really not an encouraging feeling. Seriously, what had we done to piss the dragon off?

Pamela continued to hold the boulders up, her whole body shaking with concentration, her lips tight. I stood there, swords in hand as the rain cascaded down on us.

And then things went from bad to worse. As in really fucking gods-be-damned worse.

The air around the canyon shifted, the whirlwind weather stirred up by the
other
dragons flying in, perching on outcroppings of rock along the mountain.

The dragon that’d snatched us out of the sky let out a long, low growl, but he didn’t move toward us. I settled into a fighting stance, putting myself between Eve and the dragon, and trying not to think about the newcomers. There wasn’t anything I could do about them anyway. One dragon at a time, thank you very much.

“Are we going to do this, or are you just going to stand there and think about how badly I’m going to kick your ass?” I shouted, my words punctuated with several flashes of lightning.

His head snaked backward and he let out a roar, lifting his head to the sky and baring his throat. I drove my two swords into the ground at my feet and yanked my crossbow forward, slamming a bolt into the channel. The idiot continued to roar as I lifted the crossbow up, aimed and pulled the trigger. The bolt flew straight and true, burying itself deep into the flesh between his jaw and his neck. He let out a strangled gasp of air, blood spurting past his lips.

You have drawn first blood. This battle will be true to the rules laid down centuries ago.
The voice in my head was not my own and I did my best not to stare up at the other dragons, where it ‘felt’ like it had come from.

“What?” I shouted, popping another bolt into the crossbow as the dragon in front of me clawed at his own neck. A lucky shot, a perfect shot. One I doubted I could duplicate again. Already the bolt was being pushed out as the dragon’s body healed itself. Damn supernaturals and their talents with healing.

The battle must now be between the two of you. If you best him, you will be free to go. If your friends help, we will destroy you all. We have waited for this battle, sensed its imminence since the dawns arrival. This has been foretold since Blaz’s birth. A battle of blood was seen, as much as he might not agree, it is what we knew would come. It is why we are here, to witness this.

Well shit, I didn’t like the sound of any of that.

“Pamela, lift Eve up and you three get the hell out of here. If you help me, the other dragons will be shitting witch, werewolf, Tracker and Harpy tomorrow.”

I didn’t have the luxury of making sure she did as I asked, I had to trust her. Only one other time had I faced such a big reptile, and that hadn’t gone so well for me. Giselle had saved my life, and if she hadn’t been there, I had no doubt I would have been swallowed whole and slowly digested while I still breathed.

But that was then, this was now. I had no other choice but to fight to win. To kill him or at the least make him beg for mercy.

Right.

I lifted the crossbow and aimed at the dragon’s head, aimed for the glittering eye. I hit the trigger, watched the bolt bounce off the side of its head. Unfortunately for me, it not only didn’t do any damage, it reminded the big fucker I was still there.

Oops.

His breath came in raspy belts, blood trickling out his mouth and over his steel-colored teeth as he advanced on me, ignoring my three wards. Guess he got the same memo I did. One on one or not at all.

I dropped the crossbow to the ground and grabbed the handles of my swords, pulling them free of the dirt. Fear bounced along my spine and down my arms, but I pushed it back. There could be no panic, or I’d lose whatever edge I had. Assuming I had an edge against him.

His body was easily twenty feet long with at least another ten feet of tail and though he was big, and injured, he moved
fast.

He swiped his front claws at me, one after another, reminiscent of a bear swiping the dirt in order to scare an intruder, to show how tough it was.

I backed up, let him advance, and as he began to raise his right claw for another pass, I raced toward him. Bolting between his front feet, I slashed his underbelly with my sword, felt it stick hard in between the scales. I let it go rather than fighting with it. The dragon squealed like a stuck pig, the squeal turning into a bellow of rage that was echoed back to us by the other dragons.

I ducked out from under him and, without another thought, used his back haunches to climb onto his back. Each protrusion along his spin made for a perfect handhold. If I could just get to his neck, I could drive my sword—

He bucked hard, sent me flying through the air to slam into the ground a second time. I rolled with the momentum and scrambled to my feet. But not before the dragon was back on me, his head swinging toward me like a club. I took the blow, tried to roll with it again, but fuck, he had a hard head.

For the third time I hit the dirt, blood coating the inside of my mouth, mingling with the dirt and sweat, and I was getting seriously pissed off. Could I take a dragon on my own? Probably not, but I was angry enough not to care anymore. When he swung his head at me a second time, I was ready for him. Holding my sword handle at my ear, I braced for the impact, driving the tip of my blade into the soft tissue of his jaw. He jerked away from me and the blade cut even deeper as it slid free. Blood splashed all over my hands, the warmth of it a morbid relief in this chilled weather.

Blood ran from a gash over my eye, partially blinding me, but I barely noticed it. Tomorrow I’d be sore, bruised and battered. I just had to get to tomorrow. No problem, right?

Lightning cracked over our heads once more, darted between us, and struck the ground at my feet. I threw my arms up and stumbled backward, blinded by the flash of light.

“If he gets to use magic, so do I!”

Let it be done, the rules of the blood battle are all in fairness given.

Perfect. “Pamela, keep him off me till I give you the okay.”

I kept moving away from the sound of the dragon getting pummeled by boulders. A thud of flesh meeting stone, a grunt, and then a yelp from him. I blinked furiously, tried to clear my vision. A peal of thunder rippled through the mock canyon, my teeth rattling with the vibration of it. Far too slowly for my liking (though it was less than thirty seconds) my vision came back to me.