The Tracker's Mate: Sunderverse (Mate Tracker Book 1)

by Ingrid Seymour

  The steps retreated after a couple of beats. Jake grabbed my hand and pulled me out of our hiding place. We dashed toward the door, which was slowly closing. He caught it just in time. His gaze locked on mine reassuringly. A little grin tipped his mouth as if we were playing some sort of hide and seek game. He had no qualms about this in the least.

  Me, on the other hand, my heart was thumping out of control.

  After a short moment, he nodded, pulled the door open, and we slipped inside. A long hall stretched in front of us, lined with boxes. I read some of the labels: Patron, Koval, Grey Goose. From the looks of it, they had enough booze to keep the young masses of St. Louis drunk for months on end. I could smell alcohol in the air.

  “C’mon.” Still holding my hand, Jake guided me down the hall.

  At a fork ahead, he stopped and cautiously glanced in both directions, then we kept going. The sound of music grew louder as we approached a swinging door with an eye-level window. The bottles inside the boxes rattled with the beat of the music’s low bass. Jake peered through the window, then pushed the door open, and we were in.

  “See,” he said, whispering into my ear so I could hear him over the loud music. “Piece of cake.”

  It didn’t feel like a piece of cake at all. It felt like spicy jalapenos burning my throat and giving me heartburn. Ulfen was a dangerous werewolf. More dangerous than most, anyway.

  The club was crowded, hopping with young couples out for a good time. A techno beat rattled all my internal organs, and strobe lights primed me for a category-four seizure. Most of the patrons appeared to be Stales, but my sharp nose told me otherwise. Plenty of supernaturals mingled in the crowd, shifter werewolves, most likely.

  We walked further in, approaching a line of tall tables. People stood around them, chatting and drinking. Beyond the first row, another one followed, then came a crowded dance floor with fog twirling around the ravers’ legs. A DJ and a group of dancers stood at the back on a raised platform, the centerpiece of the entire place.

  On pedestals above the crowd, both men and women gyrated provocatively, wearing a variety of leather bottoms and tops that left little to the imagination. A blonde wrapped her legs around a pole, defying gravity, and a man mock whipped a were-cowboy with a crop. Many openly displayed their shifter traits, glowing eyes, furry ears, and claws, and playfully growled and howled as they danced.

  I tore my eyes from the interesting scene, reminding myself that I hadn’t come to check out the merchandise, no matter how hot.

  To the left of the dance floor, a fully-stocked, busy bar glowed with neon strips, the bartenders dressed no different than the dancers on stage. They skillfully juggled liquor bottles and handed out drinks left and right.

  “This way,” Jake said, leading me forward.

  Tucked in a corner, round tables and comfortable red-leather booths lined the wall. At the far end, Ulfen sat with a group of people: two men and four women.

  “You go first,” Jake said. “I’ll be right behind you. He’ll get pissed faster if he sees me first.”

  Which meant that, either way, the alpha was going to be pissed. Lucky me.

  I swallowed thickly and took a deep breath, preparing for Ulfen’s intimidating glares. Like Fiore, he had the reputation of being ruthless. Not that I needed to go by hearsay, I’d experienced his tough nature firsthand. He had always scared me. And the fact that Jake followed a step behind me did little to reassure me. This was Ulfen’s place, which was packed with his people.

  But we were here to offer our help. Even if he hated us, he had to listen.

  Squaring my shoulders, I walked in his direction, radiating a confidence I didn’t feel.

  Fake it ‘til you make it, baby!

  Ulfen’s nose twitched, and his eyes snapped in my direction, pinpointing me with the accuracy of a sniper. His upper lip rose, revealing his upper teeth. I pressed forward, my confidence growing as anger flared in my chest.

  He pushed one of the women from his lap and shooed everyone away. His guests scurried quickly, scooting sideways out of the circular booth and disappearing into the crowd. I would never understand people who let others treat them that way.

  I stopped in front of the table, holding his gaze. “Hello, Ulfen.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought I made it clear I didn’t want to see you again.”

  Even though I stood above him, he made me feel small with his don’t-fuck-with-me presence and rumbling voice. Still, when I spoke, my own voice came out steady.

  “I’m here to offer my skills to help you find your son,” I said.

  His blue eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”

  I nodded.

  “Stephen has been missing for over a week, why the sudden interest? I thought you only tracked people’s mates these days.”

  At that moment, Jake stepped forward, peeling away from the crowd, and joined my side. Ulfen’s blue gaze flashed threateningly, grabbing the edge of the table with white-knuckle strength as if he meant to fling it at Jake.

  “I convinced her to help,” Jake said.

  A low growl sounded deep in Ulfen’s chest. The table groaned under his grip. My bones turned to Jell-O, and before I realized what I was doing, I reached over and interlaced my fingers with Jake’s.

  For a beat, Ulfen looked like he might blow his top and spew lava like a volcano. It would be Pompey all over again. Would a virgin sacrifice calm him down? I doubted we could find one in here, though. Time to run.

  To my surprise, the werewolf got his rage under control and let go of the poor table. He smoothed his dark gray jacket and loosened his tie. “Sit down.”

  Jake and I exchanged a glance. With an awkward grin, I quickly let go of his hand and slid around one side of the booth. Jake went in through the other, leaving Ulfen in the middle, a fair distance away from both of us.

  “Thank you for doing that,” Ulfen told Jake between clenched teeth. “The trackers I’ve hired have had no luck.” He turned to me. “I hear you’re good.”

  “I am.”

  I was young, and I couldn’t boast about having the years of experience other trackers had, but I had found little Emily Garner when everyone else had failed. That had given me a certain reputation. Yet, I had to assume the people Ulfen had hired were halfway decent. He had the money to pay for the best.

  “What do you need?” Ulfen asked.

  Every tracker is different. Some needed specific items like a comb with hair or something the missing person wore around their neck or wrist, and for these trackers, nothing else would do. In my case, I can use anything that belongs to the mark, anything they’d ever laid a claim to... from a toothbrush to a house.

  “Anything that belongs to Stephen will do,” I said.

  Ulfen nodded, reached in his jacket pocket, and pulled something out. He slid it across the table in my direction. It was a silver cufflink in the shape of a crescent moon. I blinked up and scrutinized Ulfen’s face. His blue eyes rested on the cufflink, appearing heavy and regretful as if he didn’t want to part with it.

  “We found this in his car the day they took him,” Ulfen said. “It was attached to a torn sleeve. He fought them. There was blood. I’ve been carrying it with me since that day. Will it do?”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat. I would’ve never taken Ulfen for a sentimental man, but at the moment, he didn’t resemble the person I thought I knew. Right now, he was no more than a concerned father holding on to a bit of hope.

  Hesitantly, I lifted a hand and picked up the cufflink. It felt wrong to take it, and I almost suggested he should keep it and give me something else, but we had no time for that. “It’ll do.”

  Ulfen’s eyes flicked toward Jake, then he cracked his neck and sniffed, his face returning to the impenetrable mask he always wore. “How long will it take you to track him?”

  “A few hours, at most.”

  He frowned, looking worried or skeptical, I couldn’t decide which.

  “That fast?�
� he asked.

  I nodded. “When I have an item from my mark, I can find them quickly, if there are no... aggravating circumstances that is.”

  “Aggravating circumstances,” he repeated. “I can assure you, with Bernadetta Fiore at the bottom of this, aggravating circumstances are guaranteed.”

  “Are you sure it’s her?” I asked without thinking.

  “Of course it’s her.” Ulfen pounded a closed fist on the table.

  I flinched.

  “Who else would dare mess with me?”

  I had no answer for his question and instead held up the cufflink. “I’ll get this back to you along with Stephen’s location, I hope.”

  “How much?” Ulfen asked.

  I shook my head. “It’s not about money.”

  He huffed but didn’t press the issue. “If you want, you can do your... thing in my house. We could leave now and—”

  “No, thank you,” I said emphatically. “I have to do this in my own space or it won’t work.”

  This was a lie, of course, but since every tracker works differently, he had no choice but to believe me. Very few knew how my skills worked, and I liked to keep it that way.

  Ulfen pulled out a business card from his breast pocket and flicked it across the table. It slid over the smooth surface, and Jake caught it before it fell to the floor.

  “Call me as soon as you know. That’s my private cell phone number.” Ulfen gestured toward the card.

  I stood, the cufflink held tightly in my fist. “We’ll find him.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He seemed vulnerable as he said this, as if he were afraid of hope.

  “I’ll do my best. That, I can promise.”

  Chapter 21

  “I thought he didn’t give a shit,” Jake said as we drove back to the police station to pick up his ride.

  “Me, too.”

  I never thought Ulfen capable of feeling anything but contempt and greed, but it seemed his old rock of a heart had a tender spot. I huffed at the thought.

  “What?” Jake asked.

  “I guess Stephen was wrong. He said his father hated him.”

  “I honestly thought he did. The things Stephen told me about him...”

  “Maybe he only cares about the family’s future. Stephen is his heir, after all.”

  Jake stared at his hands pensively. Maybe, like me, he had started reevaluating what he knew. Maybe Stephen was nothing more than a rebellious son going against his father. God knew Stephen wasn’t a humble man. He had grown up spoiled and rich. He’d been a total wild pup in high school and early years of college. A balls-to-the-wall rager with a couple of DWIs and arrests due to drugs. The man I’d met later on had been nothing like that, though. He still loved to party, but responsibly. His friends said he’d finally turned the corner onto the good path. I hadn’t dated him long, but I had to agree. But perhaps, family disagreements still lingered despite Stephen’s improvements. Or maybe the change hadn’t been enough for Ulfen.

  Who knew?

  In the end, the specifics didn’t matter. Blood is thicker than water. Family always comes first, especially among werewolves. They stick together, protect each other, and are loyal to their pack mates.

  I glanced over at Jake. He chose to be a lone wolf, which had always puzzled me. He’d left his pack after his parents died, and it was hard for me to understand why he would isolate himself when he could have that kind of loyalty.

  We passed in front of the police station. It was eerily quiet, no lights inside the building. Both Jake and I stared at the torn door, blasted windows, and sooty walls. Three police cars sat in the front, keeping guard of the exposed building.

  Echoes of the explosion and people’s screams rang in my ears. I tightened my hands around the wheel and kept driving, wondering how Tom and the others were doing.

  I went around the corner and shifted the car to neutral. Jake didn’t get out. He just sat there, staring straight ahead, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took.

  “Are you sure I can’t come with you?” he asked after a long quiet moment.

  “You know how it works.”

  “Do I?” He glanced at me, his eyes dark and serious.

  “Yes, it won’t work if you’re there. Your aura will interfere.” This was the lie I’d told him before, and the lie I would stand by, now.

  His mouth twisted to one side. “And your coworker’s aura doesn’t?”

  “Rosalina? No, not really. But she’s not a Skew so... not much of a supernatural aura.”

  Something told me he didn’t believe me. In the past, he had, but something was different now. He didn’t trust me, just like I didn’t trust him. But whatever, he could take a major hike up Screw-You Mountain, for all I cared.

  Moving slowly, not a word of thanks or anything, reluctance dripping off him, he got out of the car and walked toward a badass Harley, a softail with a low seat and leather studded saddlebag. So now he drove a motorcycle instead of a beat-up truck. Good to know what to look for, so I could run the other way.

  Jake threw a leg over the bike. He had no helmet, but it didn’t matter. If he splatted and cracked his head in half, it would heal quickly. He could afford to be irresponsible.

  I shifted to first and headed to Rosalina’s, watching him get smaller in the rearview mirror.

  When I got there, I found her awake, curled up on the sofa with a blanket, and watching Supernatural reruns on Netflix. As I closed the door behind me, she glanced up and gave me a bleary-eyed stare.

  “Thank God you’re home.” She pressed the off button on the remote control and rose to her feet, the blanket Abuela Esperanza had crocheted for her dropping to the floor. “How did it go?”

  “Fine. We were able to talk to Ulfen.” I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water.

  She followed me into the kitchen and pretended to check my head from different angles. “Well, if he tried to bite your head off, at least he didn’t succeed.”

  “He was pretty pissed at first, but in the end, he gave me this.” I pulled the cufflink out of my jeans pocket.

  “You’re in for it, then.”

  I sighed and nodded.

  “When do you want to do it?” She hoisted herself on top of the counter and sat with her legs dangling. She wore a pajama set with a red tank top and white shorts with the imprint of kisses.

  “I’m too tired now. Tomorrow. First thing.”

  “What you mean is later today.”

  Shit! It was already tomorrow.

  After a quick shower, I crawled into bed, wearing a loose T-shirt over a pair of comfortable cotton underwear. The sheets felt cool and wonderful against my legs as I tried to push away the memories of the blazing heat that had lapped at my skin, burning, making me feel like a rotisserie chicken.

  When I closed my eyes, I saw the hanging ceiling tiles, the sparking wires, and Jake’s bleeding back. It seemed impossible that the explosion had happened only this morning. I was grateful for the healers at the hospital and was reminded of Daniella, my older sister. She worked at St. Louis Children’s Hospital, doing just that type of work. She had saved countless lives in the two years she’d been working there. I hadn’t seen her or talked to her in almost a month. I made a mental note to call her once this was over.

  I could have died today, and the last thing I’d told my sister was “keep your nose out of my business.” She had been trying to advise me not to buy my own place yet. She said I should save a little more, make sure my business got a good foothold before I jumped into such a big responsibility. Daniella, as the oldest, had always been the most sensible. She’d only been trying to help.

  And what about Leo? I didn’t even remember the last thing I’d told him, but I doubted either Daniella, Lucia, or Mom could remember either. We hadn’t seen him in over a year, and we only knew he was all right because, every once in a while, he sent Mom a postcard from whatever city he was visiting. The last one
we’d received had come from Peru. Machu Picchu, that was where he’d been. We all wished we could write him back or at least that he would send pictures of himself, but he seemed to be doing some soul-searching and needed this time to himself.

  I would write him a letter the first chance I got. I did that whenever I missed him extra hard. Normally, I would tell him about my day and that I loved him and missed him, then I would fold the letter, put it in an envelope, and stuff it in a drawer with all the others. When he got back, I would give them all to him and demand that he told me everything he’d done and seen.

  With a sigh, I rolled onto my back, stared at the ceiling, and prayed I would be able to track Stephen. Even if I wasn’t looking forward to the task, I would do my damn best to find him to get Jake off my back for once and for all.

  Chapter 22

  I woke up at 9:30 the next morning, assaulted by the deep hunger that sometimes attacked me and nothing seemed to satiate. I sighed and sat up, thinking it might be a ten-blueberry-pancake kind of day. On top of that, the skin on my forearms itched as if I’d gotten into poison ivy, which probably meant I was allergic to the new detergent. Great! Scratching and yawning, I got out of bed and slipped on a pair of sweats and slippers and went to the kitchen. Rosalina wasn’t up yet, so I decided it was my turn to be extra nice to her.

  The kitchen was familiar. I knew where everything was, and it took me no time to get a pot of coffee going along with blueberry pancake batter. When I heard Rosalina moving around in her bedroom, I heated the skillet and started cooking. By the time she came out, I had a stack of golden flapjacks ready to eat along with butter, honey, and marmalade.

  “It smells delicious.” She sat at the kitchen table with her eyes closed and her nose up in the air as she enjoyed the smell of a hot brew and griddled pancakes.

  We dug in and didn’t exchange a word until we’d eaten at least two pancakes each. I snatched two more, drizzled honey on top, and let Rosalina start the conversation.

  “I’m glad you used the blueberries,” she said, sipping her coffee. “I was afraid they might start mutating.”