The Tracker's Secret: Sunderverse (Mate Tracker Book 2), Ingrid Seymour [great novels .txt] 📗

“And maybe one day, I’ll take you up on it, but I’m not ready for that kind of commitment right now. I just want to have some fun with a cool, fun guy that makes me laugh. Damien ticked all the boxes, but I guess he also ticks the ‘evil drug lord’ one, so he’s a dud. At least, it was only our second date.”

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I took it out and read the caller ID.

“It’s my mom again,” I huffed.

Rosalina raised her eyebrows.

I pointed a finger at her nose. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not being too harsh, not considering what she did. I know I can’t be mad at her forever, but every time I remember what she did I just...” I growled. “Besides, I already told her to give me some breathing room.”

Rosalina put her hands up. “Um, yeah, I can see the anger is pretty out of control.” She gestured toward the claws that had sprung out at my fingertips.

“Shit!” I made fists and started pacing the room until my anger passed and the claws retreated.

After that, we got to work with a vengeance. It was obvious we were both trying to keep our minds off all the craziness that had been going on lately. We called prospective clients, talked to an advertising agency about promoting our services on the radio, wrote the newsletter to send to our email subscribers, and even dusted all the furniture and photographs on the walls.

By lunchtime, we had both worked up a healthy appetite, and looked and felt much better despite the circles under our eyes.

“We’ll sleep good tonight,” I said, as we started to head out to grab some lunch.

Rosalina opened her mouth to answer but froze, her green eyes wide with surprise as she stared through the front glass door. I followed her gaze.

Damien Ward was standing outside, his cloak blowing in the breeze, his copper eyes flashing with anger under his top hat.

Oh, no! We were up shit’s creek.

Chapter 28

“OH, CRAP!” I GRABBED Rosalina’s arm, pulled her back, and stepped in front of her.

If Damien Ward tried anything, it wouldn’t go down without a fight. I was not a helpless tracker anymore. I was also a werewolf with a mean bite, capable of ripping a vamp’s head off. A mage would be no trouble. Probably.

Okay, so that had to be Red talking. I still wasn’t all right with murder, and I didn’t think I would ever be, but my wolf obviously had no qualms.

“Go in the potions alcove, Rosalina,” I said.

“No, I’m not leaving you alone.”

I was about to argue when Damien beckoned with a hand and the door opened. “Good morning, traitors,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt as he stepped inside.

Rosalina interlaced her hand with mine and sidled next to me. She held her chin high, letting the mage know she didn’t regret ratting him out.

“The police, the fucking police,” he enunciated, “showed up at my home this morning and interrupted my morning yoga.” His ragged pupils were huge with only a bit of copper around them.

Huh? Rosalina and I exchanged a glance about the yoga bit, though we should have been more worried about the fact that he was here and not behind bars.

“You’re not welcome here, Damien,” Rosalina said.

“What are you?” Damien asked, ignoring Rosalina’s unfriendly remark. “Some sort of backstabbing spies?”

“Hey,” I spat, “we’re not the ones dealing rhabo, you flamboyant drug lord mage.”

Damien grimaced at the insult. I jutted out my hip and raised an eyebrow to let him know there was more where that had come from.

“Just so you know, the cops didn’t find anything,” Damien spat. “I knew you went snooping around last night, Rosalina. Very disappointing.”

Dammit, Tom would be mad at me for sending him on a wild goose chase, but I had no time to worry about that right now.

My friend winced, hurt by his words.

I jumped to her defense. “No one is disappointing here but you. Now take your drug-dealing, Scrooge McDuck ass out of our office.”

He subconsciously touched his top hat. I smirked. Yep, he only needed a walking stick and spats to look exactly like the cartoon.

Composing himself, he gave his cloak a snap. “I am not leaving until you tell me why you were snooping around. Someone had to put you up to it.”

“For your information, we’re perfectly capable of coming up with things all on our own,” Rosalina shot back.

Damien took a step closer, his posture menacing. “I don’t want to do this,” he began twisting his hands in an intricate pattern, magic crackling at his fingertips, “but you leave me no alternative.”

“Go, Rosalina. Hide!” I said, my voice a deep rumble in my chest, my muscles rippling under my skin, screaming for relief. This time, Rosalina obeyed and disappeared into my office.

Crouching low, I faced the mage. “Leave, unless you want me to rip out your throat.”

“The little wolf thinks she’s all grown-up now.” He laughed with contempt and extended his hand, shooting a blast of magic in my direction.

I jumped out of the way and dove behind Rosalina’s desk. The magic tore a hole in the hardwood floors, sending splinters flying in every direction. Hunkering down on all fours, I closed my eyes, preparing to call my wolf forward, the way Eric had taught me, but the sound of the chime over the door froze me in my tracks. Someone had come in, and I couldn’t risk shifting and hurting an innocent person. I leaped to my feet.

“We’re closed for lunch,” I blurted out, hoping to quickly dismiss whoever had come in—not that the mean, cloak-wearing mage, the hole in the floor, and the acrid smoke of burnt wood wasn’t warning enough.

But our visitor wasn’t just anyone. It was Jake, already in the middle of shifting, his claws and fangs unsheathed. Without saying anything, he took a swipe at