rylee adamson 10 - blood of the lost (42 page)

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Authors: shannon mayer

Tags: #Paranormal Urban Fantasy Romance

BOOK: rylee adamson 10 - blood of the lost

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The dragon below me let out a cry of pain, and yet there was a flood of joy as well. To be loved, even to lose it, was a blessing I knew all too well. I pressed my hands against her, tears trickling down my face. Shit, I’d cried more in the last week then I’d probably cried my whole life.

Thank you, Rylee. You are right. Love is a blessing that can help us face the darkest hours of our lives. Your love and the bond between us has healed the madness that was eating at me. And Blaz’s love . . . it will buoy me when I feel like sinking.

We spoke no more of Blaz, but I knew we’d have another trip to make soon enough. There was the clutch of eggs Ophelia had hidden away from the demons.

Reaching Mount Hood, Ophelia circled the green spot that Lark created, and through our bond, I could easily feel her heartache. This was the spot we’d lost Blaz, and she was seeing his grave for the first time.

She winged down slowly, landing on the edge of the blooming trees. Marcella was strapped to my chest in a baby carrier, and Zane was strapped to Liam’s back in another. We slid off the dragon and landed lightly. Liam lifted his head and took in a long breath.

“Something is dead in there. Hours at most.”

Well shit, that couldn’t be good. I unbuckled Marcella from my back and put her on the ground at Ophelia’s feet with a couple of toys. Liam followed suit, putting Zane close to Marcella. The two screeched as they fought over a toy they both wanted.

“‘Phelia, you know what to do if it goes sideways.”

Of course. The babies will come first.

Liam and I pulled our weapons and crept into the trees. I tried not to put too much stock into the fact Liam had kept Faris’s cutlass. Perhaps it was a way to honor the vampire’s sacrifice.

My thoughts scattered as we pushed through a tall section of brush. At the edge of a clear pool, Sas lay on her side with her back to us, her violet skin from her back gone. Arrows fletched with demon insignias had been driven through her spine in several places

Liam took a long deep breath. “Witches did this. They tried to make it look like a demon hit, though.”

A healthy squall of a child had me running toward Sas before I thought better of it.

In the crook of her curved body lay three ogre babies. Two violet and one the exact shade of Dox’s blue. I bent and scooped up the blue ogre babe and Liam caught up the other two. Smiling, he shook his head. “Looks like you aren’t done collecting lost souls, my love.”

I rocked the boy in my arms. “Apparently not.”

We left Sas to rot, not bothering to bury her. Considering all she’d done, it was a fairly light penance. Wrapping the tiny boys (tiny being a relative term since they were already the size of Marcella and Zane, who had eight and nine months on them, respectively) into blankets, Ophelia took us into the closest city and dropped us off. Juggling five babies, I let Liam do all the shopping. He brought back a minivan filled with baby seats.

We loaded them up and headed home, the interior of the van replete with five screaming babies who took turns seeing who could out yell who.

“So, as the Tracker who stopped a demon horde, does this feel like something of a letdown?” Liam spoke loudly to be heard over the kids.

Perhaps if I hadn’t experienced all the death that had come for me and my friends, or maybe if I hadn’t seen how dark it could be when all hope was lost, the moment might have felt like it was never going to end.

“Not in the least,” I said softly, knowing he could hear me. “Not in the least.”

Six months later . . . .

Pamela jiggled the two violet boys on either side of her hips as they tried to use her as a climbing apparatus. “Bam, Rut, stop pulling my hair!”

Marcella toddled toward me, Zane right beside her as I lowered Kav to the floor, his blue skin still baby soft. “Put them down. They want to wrestle, let them go at each other.”

With a sigh, she did as I said, and the three ogre babies immediately crawled all over each other, squealing and laughing. Zane joined in—he was big enough to hold his own—but Marcella held back, watching, her eyes never leaving the four boys.

Ophelia had gone to her babies and brought the eggs back to the farm one by one. Five eggs, one with a hairline crack in it. Though she said it wasn’t a problem, I knew she was worried. I couldn’t do anything to help, though I couldn’t help but worry with her. Only time would tell if the worry had any merit.

We settled into Liam’s old house, but it was barely big enough, and we were talking about moving. He started up his own business, and he and Pamela were working to follow up leads on cold cases that could have a supernatural bend. A part of me wanted to rebuild out on the farm, despite the things that had happened there. The bloodshed was that of our friends and family. If it meant their spirits were closer, I didn’t mind in the least.

As for me, I’d been stuck in mommy mode for long enough that it was easy to forget there was anything else. That I’d ever been anything but this herder of children.

That didn’t mean I’d given up my workout routine, or my weapons training.

I wasn’t an idiot.

A single knock of the door was about to change all that. Three sharp raps snapped my head up and I flared my nostrils, but I all I got was human floating under the door. “Go ahead and get it, Pam. I think it’s safe.”

She went to the door and opened it slowly. A young man who couldn’t have been more than twenty stood on the doorstep. He was built lean and gangly, and for a second my heart skipped a beat, thinking it was Alex. That he’d come back to us. The kid cleared his throat and a thick accent coated his words.

European from what I could detect, but couldn’t pin down where on the continent. “I’m sorry, but I have heard this is where the Tracker lives. And maybe she could help me. My family needs help. Are you her? Rylee Adamson?”

He looked past Pamela to me, and the need to do something, anything, to ease his pain rose in me. The Blood of the Lost was no longer in me, but my heart was my heart, and it beat to help others. There was nothing I could do about it.

“No, I’m sorry. My name is Rylee O’Shea.” I held out a hand and he shook it slowly. “And I am a daywalking vampire.”

ALTERNATE ENDING

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Thank you to my readers for being so amazing! Because you’ve taken this journey with me and grown to love these characters as much as you do, I’ve written this just for you! In an upcoming newsletter, I will provide you with an Alternate Ending to Blood of the Lost. This is ONLY available to you as newsletter subscribers and will not be included in any published books.

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