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Rylee Adamson, Tome 5.5 : Alex



Description ajoutée par Didie6 2015-04-13T15:43:32+02:00

Résumé

"My name is Rylee, and I am a Tracker"

But this isn't Rylee's story.

It's mine. Before I lost my ability to think like an adult. Before my body became stuck between wolf and human.

Before I knew the supernatural and Rylee even existed. This is the last of what I remember before becoming a werewolf. . . .this is the last of what's important to me.

And the moments I fought so hard to hang on to.

My name is Alex, and this is my story.

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Classement en biblio - 4 lecteurs

Extrait

Extrait ajouté par feedesneige 2016-04-13T21:24:17+02:00

RYLEE CAME OUT of the room exactly fifteen minutes later, dressed in clean clothes, her hair pulled into a low pony tail, and the faint scent of soap clinging to her. Nothing overpowering, just clean.

She glanced around, took in the rug crunched up against one wall. “Well, at least you didn’t break anything.”

I bobbed my head. “Alex is goody good.” Oh crap, she was going to think I was a fool!

Laughing softly, she said, “Sure, okay.”

The doorbell rang, interrupting this stellar exchange, and she strode toward it, opening the door to reveal a very tiny man.

“Hello, Charlie. What have you got for me today?”

Charlie, who stood maybe three feet tall, sauntered into the room despite missing a leg, and handed a sheet of papers up to Rylee.

“Should bees an easy peasy case for yous. Kid’s fifteen, sassy mouth on her from what be my understandin’. Unless she was snatched by a real ugly, you should have no problemo finding hers.” He put his hands through a pair of suspenders that had one strap black and one strap white. And then his eyes fell on me. “Shit me pants, Rylee. What the feck are yous doing with a werewolf in yous living room?”

“Oh, his pack was chasing him earlier. He’s here for the day.” She didn’t look my way, just waved at me while she read her papers.

I lowered myself to my belly and tried to grin up at Charlie. If I really wanted to stay with Rylee, then I would have to get her friends to like me. At least, that was how it had worked in the clubs when I was trying to get information.

“Stop with the grinning, wolf, it’s fecking awful.” Charlie turned from me with a shudder and I got a whiff of daisies and fresh cut grass, my brain translating that into brownie.

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