Tracker: a Rylee Adamson Novel
“All I could think was that we’d done it, that I’d kept my oaths to Faris, and still managed to fulfill a prophecy. And I was still alive.
Lying in the back of the truck, I stared at the wide open sky. Dawn approached, which meant the vampires were eto of wiither getting their asses in gear, or staying another full day.
I almost didn’t care.
Almost.
Alex lay stretched out on his back beside me, his eyes at half mast, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. “Vampires coming.”
“About fucking time,” I grumbled. With all the battering and blood loss, I was sore and grumpy. Even thoughts of Liam’s arms around me weren’t helping.
We both sat up and the three vampires stood at the side of the truck. I shook my head at them. “Stop sneaking around. Make some noise would you?”
“Alex hears them.” He grinned at me and almost—almost—winked.
Doran held out his hand, his eyes serious. “Come on, you have to go home. We”—he motioned to himself, Berget and Faris—“have business to attend to.”
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