Raising Innocence: A Rylee Adamson Novel(24)

Glancing back the way we’d come, I saw a nurse wave at me from the desk. I gave her a bob of my head in acknowledgment.
Lifting my hand, I knocked on the door.
“Come the bloody fucking hell in or bloody fuck the hell off! But don’t just stand out there hovering in front of my fucking goddamned door!”
Swallowing hard, I pushed the door open. Alex and I stepped into the room. The air was cold, the window halfway open and the winter wind whipping through. Pale yellow walls that were meant to be cheery only made me think that the shade had been handpicked for Jack. His skin was the same pale tone, and contrasted sharply with his bright red hair. Not a good look. There was no I.V. or other instrument connected to him—of course, to get them to work would be a freaking miracle. He was here to die, slowly, and by the looks of the bare surfaces around him, alone. No flowers, no balloons, not even a single get well card. I drew closer to the bed, Alex trying to hide behind me and tangling my legs.
“Alex,” I grunted, grabbing at the bed to stop my downward tumble.
“What the fuck? You brought a fucking goddamn werewolf into a bloody hospital? Woman, are you out of your ever-fucking mind?”
Damn, and I thought I had a potty mouth.
“He’s fine. Just clutzy.” I stared down at the Tracker, at a loss for words.
“Well? What are you here for? Charity? Motherfuckers don’t realize I ain’t got no fucking money left. Sons of bitches have bled me dry.” He let out a wheezing laugh that ended in a rattling cough.
I pulled a chair up, and took a closer look at his face as I spoke. “My name is Rylee, and I’m a Tracker.”
This close I could see that he didn’t have just blue eyes. They swirled with three shades, light almost grey blue, a dark blue the colour of a lapis stone, and a bright blue like a summer sky. At least I knew now why my eyes were the way they were. Looked like it was an outward sign of a Tracker.
“Tracker, eh? That what you think?”
“It’s why I’m here. To finish the job you started.”
He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing to mere slits. Had I pissed him off? With me, that was a definite possibility.
“You know what you’re doing?” He asked. “Who trained you? Brin has been dead for years and he was the last Tracker on your side of the water by your accent.”
Excitement coursed through me and I tucked the name away. Brin. I would look him up when I got home—better yet, I’d have Kyle do it. “My mentor was Giselle, but she wasn’t a Tracker. I was hoping you’d tell me what you know.”
His eye snapped wide. “No one trained you?”
I shook my head, my one hand resting on Alex’s back as he sniffed at the edges of the bed.
“Well, fuck. How the hell didn’t you kill yourself?”
“Ah . . .”
“Never mind. Come here, let me have a look at you.” He beckoned with a gnarled up hand, the skin drawn tight over the bones to the point that I could actually see the blood pulse through his veins. Crap, this was like some creepy-ass freak show.
I scooted my chair forward and he took my hand gently, which surprised the hell out of me. “What can you do besides Tracking?”
He turned my hand over and I answered. “I’m an Immune.”
Chuckling, he nodded. “I wondered when I couldn’t get a bead on you. I’m a Reader.”
I nodded, recognizing the name as one of many Giselle went by. Looked like he’d dodged the curse that had claimed her. I’d say he was lucky, but by the looks of things now, maybe not so much.
“Do all Trackers have multiple abilities?”
Holding my hand lightly, he touched a scar above my wrist. “Yes. It’s necessary in order to be a good Tracker to have some additional abilities. It seems the gods favoured us and cursed us all in one breath.”
Alex lifted his head up and peeked over the edge of the bed at Jack, his claws curling around the bunched up blankets.#p#分页标题#e#
He took a sniff and wrinkled his nose. “Sick?”
Jack looked down at the werewolf. “Dying.”
With an exaggerated pout, Alex flopped onto his ass. “Alex no like dying. Dying sucks shit.”
A burst of laughter escaped Jack. “Yeah, that’s what I think too.” His eyes flicked up to mine. “Comic relief, I like it. Keep him close; you’ll need all the laughs you can get. The longer you’re in this business, the less you’ll feel like smiling.”
The smile that had teased at the edges of my mouth slipped. “Jack, what can you tell me about being a Tracker? I feel like I won’t get another chance like this . . .” I trailed off, not wanting to point out the obvious.