Wounded: Book 8 (A Rylee Adamson Novel) (16 page)

There were no screeching tires, no honking horns as we jogged down the sidewalk. So I assumed whatever the humans saw didn’t bother them.

Score one for us.

I held tight to the threads of the black coven members, let the emotions the group was feeling keep my mind busy, and for a split second I wished I hadn’t. My throat tightened with horror.

The black coven members were running on a high of elation that could only mean one thing.

They’d managed to bring a demon through.

Which meant one of the kids was done.

“Fucking hell.”

Chapter 10

BOSTON HADN’T CHANGED much since I’d left and I found myself retracing steps I’d taken years past. At a major intersection, my feet stilled. To the left was Beacon Street, and from there we were within a few minutes of being in front of my parent’s house.

My heart pounded as I thought about how long it would take. No more than ten minutes. I could spare that. Berget put a hand out. “You don’t have to, Rylee. You don’t owe them anything.”

She was right, and she was wrong. Where would I have ended up if my life hadn’t played out they way it had? Would I have found Giselle? Would I have Liam in my life? As horrible as my parents had been, I had to see them. Just one more time.

“Do you want to see them?”

She shook her head, almost violently. “No. I don’t want anything to do with them.”

That made this easier in some ways.

“Stay here.” I pointed at the intersection and didn’t wait for the others to answer as I bolted down Beacon Street at full speed. My guts churned and a pang started to wind its way through me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to puke or if my heart was just trying to explode.

This was fucking ridiculous. We were in the middle of a major battle, of fighting for the world’s safety, and I decided I needed a detour into the past. What the hell was wrong with me? My rational mind told me to turn around, what was done was done and there would be no changing it. I knew that. But the little girl from my past, the girl I’d been so many years ago, who huddled inside me, the one who was afraid and weak, the one who cried for her parents when no one was looking, she wouldn’t be denied. Not this time.

I had to see the ones who’d raised me, the ones I’d loved more than any others in the world, even after they’d turned me out. Even after they believed the worst of me.

I pushed all that away and ran as fast as I could. If I was going to do this, I was doing it fast. And with that decision, the anxiety fled, and I knew I’d made the right decision. I had to reconcile this part of my life before I fully committed myself to being the one to stop Orion.

The buildings around me took me back to my childhood, the expensive homes, the money that was as abundant as the air we breathed. Brownstones for the most part and the occasional fancy custom built house were everywhere, but I didn’t hesitate in my footsteps. Didn’t pause in my run. My feet knew where they were going and they took me home unerringly, with a spooky déjà vu that washed through me.

I stumbled to a stop in front of the building I’d grown up in. Made of brick, there were units on each floor. Third floor was where we’d lived. The fence was wrought iron and the gate was keyed, there was no way I should have been able to get in. Except for the fact I could short circuit electrical devices just by touching them. I lifted my hand to the keypad, wondering if the pass number would be the same. My fingers hesitated as I stared at the top floor. Behind me a car pulled up, slowed, stopped and then a door slammed. My hearing slowly came back online and it was only then I realized I was nearly hyperventilating.

“Oh, my dear, isn’t that your daughter?”

I didn’t recognize the voice, but I turned and the world slowed to a halt. A limo had pulled over and four people were stepping out, two couples. One set I vaguely recognized, friends of my parents, they’d been over for dinner a number of times during my childhood. The woman of the couple, she stared at me with her mouth hanging open and her hazel eyes wide with shock. Her trim body and meticulous makeup made her look far younger than she was. Leanne was her name, if I remembered right. She’d been friends with my mother since I was a child.

The other two people, they were far more familiar.

Amelia and Robert Adamson.

My parents.

Fuck, Amelia looked like Berget, even more so now that Berget was older. Nearly white blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and features that would make angels weep for her beauty, even now. Dressed in a pale blue dress, it peeked out from beneath her long white woolen coat. Robert was slim, had his light brown hair slicked back; he was every inch the professional businessman in his Gucci suit. Her eyes widened and then narrowed like a set of shutters.

“No, our only child was killed, you know that, Leslie,” Amelia said, brushing past me so close I caught a whiff of her perfume, a sweet musk, a scent that made my knees buckle with longing to be a child again. To be held and kept safe from the monsters waiting for me in the dark.

To have my mother love and protect me.

Pain, sharp and intense, flared through my chest seeming to rocket through my soul. Robert, my dad, met my eyes and there was sadness there, and I thought for a minute maybe he would say something.

But no, not against Amelia. I held my hand out to him unable to stop myself from trying. His lower lips trembled and a glimmer of tears shaded his blue eyes.

“I can’t. I’m sorry, Rylee.”

Amelia whipped around, her face no longer one angels would weep for. More like run from, with the way her lips contorted and her eyes burned with anger.

“Don’t you speak to her! She is not our child, she is a murderer!”

Robert took his eyes from me. “Amelia, you’re wrong, she didn’t kill Berget. Not Rylee.”

The tears that had been hovering in my eyes flowed down my cheeks. He believed me; my father believed I hadn’t killed Berget. That made this worth it, to know one of them believed.

“Rylee, will you come in?” He held his hand out to me and Amelia choked back a sound that seemed caught between rage and horror as she slapped his hand down. Not that it mattered.

“I just—” I shook my head and slid a hand over my hip my finger brushing against my back pocket. “I can’t right now. I just wanted to see you,” I said, feeling awkward and unsure, like I was a teenager again.

Robert gave me a small smile, reached out and took my hand. “When you can, come and see us. There are a lot of years to catch up on. A lot of things that need to be worked out. Apologies to be given.”

Amelia spun and stormed toward the house, her back rigid, head held high. None of that mattered as my father pulled me gently into his arms, somehow holding me around all my weapons.

“I should have stood up for you then, Rylee. It is my only regret in life, that I let you go when we lost Berget,” he whispered into my ear and I all but collapsed against him. His arms supported me and I clung to him as the tears flowed and the pain that had been with me for so long eased. He patted my back and kissed my cheek. “I am sorry, Rylee. Truly and deeply sorry. We can make this better, though, if you are willing.”

The words were those I’d wanted to hear for the last ten years. That things could be better, that I could have my family back.

I lifted my head and stepped back, swallowing hard, and fighting to speak normally. “I’ll come back when I can.”

His eyes flicked over me, seeming to finally see my weapons, the leather jacket, the hard lines of a body that had been trained to work beyond natural limits.

“Be safe, my girl, whatever you’re doing, be safe.” He kissed the back of my hands like he’d done when I was a little girl, when I’d done something smart or right.

I backed away sliding my hands from his, knowing if I didn’t I would never leave, that I would break down on the doorstep of my home and let the world go to hell in a poorly woven basket.

Lifting one hand to him in a weak wave, I said nothing more. Couldn’t talk past the lump in my throat. With quick steps I spun and headed away from them.

When I hit the corner and was out of sight I broke into a jog and it wasn’t very long before I was back on the street corner with a very nervous looking Pamela, Frank, Alex, Berget, and Erik.

“What the hell was that, Rylee?” Erik asked, his eyes narrowed as if that would somehow make me spill the beans.

“Sorry.” I shook off the emotions tangling up my heart and mind, or at least tried to. Already, the guilt of taking the detour was eating at me. A demon had been brought through and was possessing one of the kids, and I fucked off for a family reunion. Not really good form, no matter how you looked at it.

Pamela peppered me with questions, but I evaded them, finally going silent. I knew I was probably freaking them out, but I couldn’t talk about it.

They followed me as we worked our way through town. Berget never said anything, never even asked if I’d seen our parents. She knew me well enough not to push, which was funny because we had been apart for years.

That didn’t slow the others, or more pointedly, Pamela.

“Look,” I finally barked, coming to a standstill on the south side of the Charlestown Bridge. “It was personal. It has nothing to do with any of you or this fucking salvage or whatever the hell this is.”

I started across the bridge, my eyes taking in the heavy utilitarian girders, focused on everything but my team ranging in behind me. Near the middle of the span I stopped and let them catch up.

“I went to see my adoptive parents.”

Pamela’s breath caught and I knew that she, of all those who stood with me, would understand. Her own parents had handed her over to a handful of overzealous priests to have her ‘exorcised’ of the ‘demons’ in her.

“What did they say?” She slid a hand over one of mine as the first flakes of snow dropped from the sky.

“My father wants me to come back to see them,” I whispered the words, still unsure how I felt about that. Happy, freaked out, uncertain. Erik said nothing, but there was understanding in his eyes. Family was important to him too. Berget was unreadable, and for that I was grateful. I wasn’t sure what she thought about our parents. I wondered how much she even remembered of them.

Frank was the last one I thought would have anything helpful to say. But he shocked me. “Parents love you, even when they are afraid of you. They can’t help it; they will always want to believe the best of their kids. Even my mom was like that, with me raising the dead when I couldn’t help it; I scared her so badly she passed out on a regular basis. But she still loved me. Even when she asked me to move in with my uncle.”

I turned to look at him, and in his young eyes I saw a wisdom that shouldn’t have surprised me. “Thanks. You’re right, I guess.” I blew out breath, catching a few flakes of snow and spinning them away from my face. “That being said, we still have a job to do. We have to take out the covens and get those kids away.” I refrained from mentioning that one of those kids was already lost to us. “To be safe, we’ll stake them out for a bit.”

“We aren’t going in right away?” Pamela asked as we headed over the last half of the bridge.

“No, we need to see if we can figure out the best way in and out, where Frank will place his friends, and see if we can find out where the witches are exactly.”

The threads of the coven were growing stronger, getting closer with each step we took. There was very little time before we’d have to go in and face the black witches, rescue the two kids who hadn’t been possessed, and kill the one who had been taken over by a demon.

Yup, good times ahead.

Tracking the witches was easy. Simple. And we found them at the Navy Shipyard.

Contrary to the name, there was no navy waiting for us. A shipyard for repairs and construction on big boats. Yeah, I know, not very technical but I was no boat buff. The docks were not active; the night had cleared out most of the humans. Good and bad, it was harder for us to blend in when it was just us walking the docks as compared to say the bustle of mid-day.

“How close are we?” Erik asked, breaking the silence.