Home > Tracker

Tracker(Rylee Adamson #6)(2) by Shannon Mayer

She turned in her seat, one hand on her seat belt, the other on the armrest. Pamela followed suit, staring out the back window. “No, I don’t know who they are. How long have they been following us?”

“Just started.” I knew the area and wasn’t about to get boxed in. “Buckle up, ladies.”

I put my foot down on the gas pedal and the Jeep obliged, the four-wheel drive making the difference between being in the ditch and staying on the road. A glance in the mirror showed the sedan cruising along, keeping up easily. We were closing in on the suburbs, a veritable rat’s nest of streets and houses. If we were to lose the douche on our tail, now would be the time.

I spun the wheel to the right, taking the corner so hard the Jeep skidded sideways and I wasn’t sure we weren’t ending up in the ditch. Lucky for us, it pulled back to center before we hit the edge of the pavement. “Milly, watch them.”

Navigating the slippery winter roads, I couldn’t help but notice all the Christmas lights. The humans were getting festive and—a loud crack ripped through the Jeep and I ducked instinctively.

“What the fuck?” I dared a look back as we sped along a short straight stretch, bright lights zipping by.

“They’re shooting at us,” Milly yelped as another bullet sang through the metal of the Jeep. And then another, and another. How in hell’s name were they getting that kind of accuracy? With the three of us affecting the trajectory of the bullets, there should be no way they had any actual hits. Supernaturals tended to do that to technology, screw it up that is. Which is why the accuracy of the bullets was so fucking shocking.

I took another corner, bouncing over the curb, driving along the edge of someone’s decorations and taking out a string of lights. “Pamela, keep your head down. Milly, can you deal with them?”

Before Milly answered, Pamela popped up. “I can do it, she doesn’t have to.”

“No, lay down,” I snapped, but too late. Pamela unbuckled her seatbelt and spun to face the back of the Jeep. The power of her spell gathered and she unleashed it out the broken back window. The asphalt in front of the black sedan exploded, sending the front of the car straight up, exposing its underbelly.

A second spell zigzagged through the air, and forked lightning kissed the bared gas tank. Half a breath later the car exploded in a shower of flames and twisted metal that dulled the decorations around us.

“Shit.” I kept the gas pedal down and wove our way out of the suburbs and back to the main drag. I glanced at Pamela. “You need to learn to listen.”

Her jaw tightened. “And you need to learn to let me do what I can do.”

Milly laughed softly. “I’m glad to see your wards have spines of their own. I was worried they were so obedient, they wouldn’t know their own minds.”

“Shut up, Milly.” I glared at her.

“Act first and think later. I wonder where she learned that?” Milly arched an eyebrow at me.

Pamela slouched in her seat, the cool air tugging at her long blond hair, her blue eyp> her bles glittering. Sullen teenager was written all over her. I forced myself to unclench the wheel. “Thanks for taking care of them. Even if you didn’t listen.”

She didn’t perk up, but she did nod, and I noticed her fight the upward rise of her lips. Damn, was I ever that touchy? Hell, people probably thought I was still that moody.

Milly reached forward and touched a bullet hole in the dashboard. “How did they get the guns and bullets to be so accurate around us? And why were they shooting at us in the first place?”

Both questions I wanted answered, too. “I don’t know.” I went for the obvious. “Orion wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would he?” If a demon had found some way to make guns and bullets work around the supernatural, we were royally screwed. I wouldn’t get the chance to pull together any sort of army, not if we could be taken out with long-range rifles and scopes.

I put a hand to the bullet hole closest to me. The metal was hot, and I jabbed my finger in to see if I could fish out the bullet. No luck. Milly frowned, her fingers tracing another bullet hole, as if we could somehow read the bullets themselves as Giselle had once Read people.

“I don’t think Orion would use this technology. Nothing he ever said would make me believe this was even a line of thought for him. But if he knew it was a possibility, there is no doubt he would make use of it. It would give him an edge we would struggle to match.”

Brilliant, just what I wanted to hear. We said nothing more until we reached Giselle’s place. The house still sat on a tilt, but at least the insulation was in and we wouldn’t freeze to death. Pamela leaned forward. “It looks … bloody awful.”

“Better on the inside,” I muttered. I caught a flash of black fur as two wolf bodies zipped around the side of the house. Damn, those boys were fast. Then again, we did get sidetracked. Nothing like a surprise car chase and minor explosion to change how your day was going. Not that the day started out all that well, either.

I stepped out of the Jeep, paused, and slid back in. Shifting the Jeep into low gear, I plowed through the snow along the dark side of the house, putting us in the shadows. Maybe it wasn’t the best hiding spot, but unless someone was looking for us we should go unnoticed. I turned off the Jeep and stepped out, Pamela following but her eyes locked on Milly. The older witch turned back to the truck’s path, lifted her hands and the crunched snow trail lifted, fluffing up and falling so it looked as if no one had been in the driveway.

I watched as Pamela frowned, lifted her hands and then along the road, as far as we could see, the snow lifted in a veritable blanket, and then dropped to the ground erasing all tire tracks.

Milly snorted. “Yeah, that isn’t going to look suspicious. No tire tracks for the block around Giselle’s?”

Pamela flushed and I put a hand on her shoulder, the tension in her singing through my fingers. I bent and whispered in her ear, “I would have done the same thing. She’s just pissed you’re stronger than her.”

The growing tension slowed and ebbed. I didn’t recall Milly being this quick to anger as a teenager. Then again, if what she told me was the truth, then even at that young age, Orion would have controlled her every action.

With that thought tumbling in my head, I grabbed gear from my Jeep. Pamela had an armful too, and we left the rest in the back. We’d pretty much cleared out the cellar below the farmhouse, taking every weapon, leaving just a bare stash in case of emergency before we’d left.