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Raising Innocence: A Rylee Adamson Novel(13)

By:Shannon Mayer

A teary laugh escaped me, and she laughed along with me. Scrubbing my face, I sniffed back my grief. I would lose her before this day was done, I could feel it in my bones, and it scared the shit out of me.
“Now, we must go. Because if I’m right, Milly will be waiting for us,” Giselle said, her eyes darkening with anger.
I put the Jeep into drive, the engine rumbling smoothly as I headed back to the Interstate. Knowing Milly was going to try and kill us was one thing, just like knowing that the night would come after the setting sun. And just like the night, I knew it would only be a matter of time before she succeeded.
That was, unless I beat her to it.
We spent the rest of the drive reminiscing, talking about old times, good times and bad, that we’d had—our final goodbye, and we both knew it. Without meaning to, my foot eased off the gas pedal, extending our time together, even if only for a few additional minutes. It would never be enough, though, not for me.
Tracking Milly was easy, something I did without even thinking, really. She was the first person I’d ever Tracked on purpose, the first person’s whose life threads had hummed inside my skull, a vibration all their own.
I followed her threads through Bismarck to the northeast side of town. There wasn’t much here, at least nothing that should have drawn her. She’d always loved the glitz and glamour of the city life.
“Stop thinking about her as your friend, Rylee.”
A long slow breath in helped to calm me, then I let it out and, with it, let go of Milly once and for all.
Milly’s threads drew me to a beautiful office building, newer, but with architectural touches that showed a modern design with a nod to the past. Squinting my eyes and using my second sight, I could just see the faint outlines of what had to be the Coven’s symbol, a full moon with the faint image of a wolf inside it, on the front door. What the hell, why not storm the Coven’s main building? One last hurrah for Giselle and me. The witch was inside, resting, by the feel of things. Not sleeping, but relaxing. I had no way of knowing how many other Coven members there were.
“Maybe you should wait here,” I said, thinking about how to get to the top of the three-story building and past any number of Coven members with Giselle, who was frail on a good day.
“I can bloody well walk. I’m not dead yet,” she snapped at me.
Oh, there was one of those bad traits she mentioned. A smile flitted across my lips, but disappeared as I stepped out of the Jeep.
The ever-blowing wind of North Dakota seared my eyeballs, making them tear up. Bugger.
Blindly, I groped in the back seat, grabbed the two bottles of salt water, and then shut the door with my hip. I wasn’t worried about being heard or detected. I was an Immune, unable to be detected or affected directly with magic; it was a perk that went with the territory.
“Do you have a plan?” Giselle asked.
“The usual.”
“So you mean no plan.”
“Exactly.”
Plans went awry and people fell apart. In my mind, it was better to always go in hot, and adjust yourself as the shit hit the fan.
We walked to the front door and I hesitated. I might not set off any alarm system, but Giselle would. I glanced over at her and she lifted a single eyebrow at me. We’d done this many times before she’d lost her sanity and we needed very few actual words to communicate. I handed her the two bottles of salt water first.
Then I crouched down so I could carry her on my back. My crossed sword sheath dug into me, but it was a minor irritant. Did my Immunity flow over Giselle like a cloak?
Fucked if I know, but it was the best we could do with what we had.
Giselle’s ability lay in reading people, seeing the future, seeing the past. But she had once been a wicked ass fighter. She’d learned to fight because, like me, her abilities didn’t provide the sort of power that someone like Milly had. We were both fighters in the physical sense and could kick Milly’s ass around town in that arena; our one major advantage over her. Of course, the chances were good that the bitch witch wasn’t alone. Nor did it help that Giselle was so out of shape, and wasted from the madness.
The doorknob was cool under my touch and I twisted it with care, easing the door open. Poking my head in, I spotted stairs across the lobby, and no one waiting for us.
Yet.
Shifting Giselle on my back, I walked as fast as I could across the lobby, doing my best to soften the sound of my boots on the marble floor.
“Opulent for a Coven who has no ties to the world, isn’t it?” Giselle noted, her voice low.
I was thinking along the same lines. Milly had claimed the Coven had no ties with the secular world, that they were woefully ignorant of the humans, and even at times, other supernaturals. But this place didn’t give me that feeling, not by a long shot.