Raising Innocence: A Rylee Adamson Novel(32)

“I couldn’t get him to back down,” Agent Valley snapped back at me, and then smoothed out his hair. “As it was, I could barely get him to agree to you having the lead on this.”
Though it galled me, I knew he’d done the best he could. “Yeah, thanks for that.”
Flipping a stack of files on a desk, he pointed to the chair. “Sit, read. Figure this the fuck out, Adamson. And when you’re ready to Track the kids, let us know. But the last thing you are to do is go out on your own. Got it?”
Lips pursed tight, I gave him a half nod. I wanted to Track the kids now, by myself, and get the job done. Then I could go after Berget. Letting out a deep breath, I flopped into the squeaky chair and flipped open the first file. None of the information was new, just a rehashing of the same stuff I’d already read: the kids, their ages, parents and siblings. Nothing new. Was this what being a part of the FBI was about? Pushing paper around until your eyes crossed and you hoped all to hell and back that you caught something? Ugh. I’d made the right choice; I could never do this on a regular basis. A snore from Alex at my feet made me glance down. He wasn’t the only one feeling the twist from the jet lag. Stifling a yawn, I put my head down on my desk and covered my hair with my hands. Gods, why not just go after the kids now, get it done?
Because you need to know what you’re dealing with. And you need to know why the kids are being snatched so you can stop it and keep it from happening again. O’Shea’s voice seemed to echo in my head. Damn him, even when he wasn’t here he was right.
A hand touched my shoulder and I flinched. I was too tired to even keep my guard up. Not a good sign.
Will bent over me with a cup of coffee. “Jack never liked coffee, but I thought maybe you’d want some?”
“No.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I need to sleep.”
“Right. I can take you to where you’re staying. Just down the street in a basement suite.”
Again, he led the way, me only half awake behind him. Alex stumbled along too. Though only late afternoon here, we’d left yesterday, and at home it was the middle of the night; I’d been up way too long.
Rain pattered down around us, dark grey clouds pressing in from above, giving me the impression of endless grey. Two blocks down from the precinct, Will paused. “Here’s your key, go right in. I believe all your weapons were brought here by Agent Valley.” He handed me the key and a card. “That’s my number on there, call me when you get up and we can get started first thing in the morning.”
I nodded, took the key, mumbled “thanks” and opened the door. The inside was dim, but the walls were painted a cheery blue that matched the curtains, carpet and furniture. Matchy, matchy—how vomit inducing. Locking the door behind me, I propped a chair under the handle. Call me paranoid, but if Faris wanted me on his team, I had no doubt I’d be paid a visit sometime soon.
My weapons bag was still locked and I slid a small key out of my pocket. Opening up the hard-backed case, I took a quick stock of my weapons. I’d mostly brought blades in various sizes, my two swords being foremost amongst those. Silver threaded whip, cuffs, throwing knives, flak jacket, and my newest hobby, full size cross bow and bolts. I wasn’t one-hundred percent that it would work, it might be too mechanical, but my test shoots had been clean, so I was going to give it a try. There were more than a few bad asses out there I’d like to kill at a distance. And it would keep my dry cleaning bill down.
With a deep sigh I pulled one sword free and started through the forms of fighting Giselle had taught me, mostly Muay Thai. Block, parry, thrust, elbows, knees, fist and feet. Over and over until my body hummed with the movements. Then I picked up the second sword and worked my way through a few more imaginary opponents. Sweating, I slid out of my leather jacket and dropped to the floor, forcing myself through sit-ups, push-ups and a variety of other strength training exercises. Sure I was exhausted, but I had to be fit, ready to go after the kids that I was Tracking. Because no matter that I had some supernatural abilities, I was no fucking Superwoman. I could be hurt and killed as easily as anyone else. That was one lesson I was reminded of on almost every salvage, picking up new scars to add to the history already written on my body with blades, teeth and claws.#p#分页标题#e#
Finally done with my routine, I hopped in the shower for a quick wash. Stepping back into the main room, I dressed in clean clothes, and then picked up one sword and slid it under my pillows. I left the sheath on the sword. The edge of it was spelled to cut deep, but I’d slept with my weapons more than once and had learned the hard way to keep the sheath on unless I was fighting or practicing. I climbed into bed, pulled the blue comforter up to my chin, and let out a deep sigh. Exhausted, the last thing I did was Track Berget. Her energy and excitement flowed through me. She was happy, that at least was good. Whoever had taken her had taken good care of her. There was no fear in her at all.