Page 7 of The Tracker's Secret
ROLLING MY SHOULDERS, I took a couple of pens from a holder and placed them next to Aaron Blackridge’s folder. Quickly, I checked myself in the small mirror I kept in my desk drawer and made sure I didn’t look wolfish. Somehow I doubted that “deranged, uncontrollable shifter chick” was the kind of look that would put customers at ease.
A moment later, Rosalina appeared at the door and announced our client.
“Mr. Blackridge is here,” she said in her pleasant, businesslike tone.
I stood and shook his hand as he walked in. He was an African-American man of around twenty-five. His dark hair was arranged in locs that fell to his shoulders. He was dressed all in black except for a pair of entirely red, high top sneakers. One diamond earring pierced his right ear, and a gold chain with a heavy pendant in the shape of a treble clef hung from his neck. He offered me a warm smile that immediately made me like him.
“Good morning, Ms. Sunder,” he said in a friendly voice.
“Good morning, Mr. Blackridge. You can call me Toni. Please sit down.” I gestured toward the chair in front of my desk.
“In that case, call me Aaron.” He took a seat, and I followed suit.
“I am so glad you could see me this morning.”
“You come highly recommended by my friend. I have never seen Celina happier. She and Vincent are perfect for each other.”
“It makes me happy to hear that. I hope I can do the same for you.”
“I hope so, too.”
I picked up one of the pens and clicked it. “Let’s get started.”
Over the next few minutes, I filled out his intake form and went over the contract with him. He didn’t seem worried at all about our terms or the deposit, which was a breath of fresh air. The less affluent clients we’d worked with so far had refused to pay for our services unless they saw results. Clients like Celina and Aaron, however, splurged on far less important things all the time. Paying up-front for romantic happiness had to be easy when Starbucks trips on a private jet were the standard.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel like a greedy person. Others needed to find happiness with the right partner, too, and it wasn’t fair for them to suffer through loneliness or the wrong person because they couldn’t afford someone like me. Rosalina and I had bills to pay and clothes to wear and meals to eat, so I tried not to beat myself up about it. Maybe, when things got easier and we built up our savings and paid off our business loan, we could do a little pro bono work. It would certainly make me happy. I would definitely have to run that by her.
After Aaron signed on the dotted line, I gathered all the papers and lined them up neatly. “Great. Now that this is out of the way, I should explain that in order to find your mate, I need to craft a potion that will allow me to locate her.”
“Actually, it should belocate him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“It’s okay. It’s not common among werewolves.”
I knew this to be the case, though I didn’t know the reason. It wasn’t something Jake and I had talked about during our time together. I’d been too busy drooling over him and tracking missing people to worry about much else.
Aaron’s warm expression grew somber. “If I wasn’t a gay werewolf, I would already have a partner. My kind marries young, as you may know. Passing on our legacy is important.”
I knew all too well about that. The man I loved was the last in a long line of Knight werewolves, and his legacy was more important than our feelings for each other.
“My parents are very disappointed as you might imagine. They keep telling me I won’t be able to find another gay werewolf.” He grimaced, clearly afraid to prove his parents right. “That’s why I’ve come to you. As hard as I’ve looked, I’ve never met one.”
“Do you mind me asking, since bearing children won’t be an issue, why a werewolf? Your mate could be Fae, human, another type of shifter.”
“I hope it doesn’t appear like I’m discriminating against anyone, but I really hope you can find another werewolf. I do hope we’ll be able to adopt, and it would be easier if my partner understands our kind and knows how to advise his own children. There is much to teach a young werewolf.”
Such as not Shifting Under Duress and ruining one’s entire criminal record. Something I was trying hard to avoid at the moment.
“I never thought about it that way,” I said, wondering if the reason Mom had chosen to lie to me was because she’d had no clue how to raise me like a proper werewolf. I knew my next question would sound weird to Aaron, but I couldn’t help myself. “So... how would someone who wasn’t raised by werewolf parents learn proper werewolf skills? There isn’t a place where they offer... lessons, is there?”
Aaron laughed, putting a ringed hand on his chest and throwing his head back. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, sputtering. “That’s just funny. No, I’ve never heard of a place like that. There aren’t many shifters who grow up without that kind of guidance. It would be hard to survive, I would imagine.”
I swallowed. “But you’re hoping to adopt, so there must be... shifter orphanages? And people to teach them those skills.”
“Um,” he considered, pursing his lips. “Maybe so. But why are you so interested? Do you know someone who needs to learn how to be aproper werewolf?”
I froze, unsure of what to say.
