Page 81 of The Tracker's Secret
“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 Damien. His claws sliced through the air as the mage leaned back,The Matrixstyle, avoiding the attack with ease. With a speed that could only have been produced by magic, he righted himself and delivered a bone-cracking right hook to Jake’s jaw.
The sound of the strike reverberated through the office as if from stereo speakers. I staggered back as the awful thud echoed in my ears, recalling the horrible sounds I’d heard last night during the trance.
Suddenly, I was there again, at that warehouse, sprays of blood cutting through the air as Blake struck again and again. His victim’s head snapped back. I couldn’t watch, not again. I walked backward, away from the horror.
I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here.
I shook my head, panic building. My eyes darted around, searching for an exit. Wooden crates surrounded me. I turned left then right. The crates went on for miles and miles. They were all identical, its planks stamped with a logo.
There’s no way out. No escape.
My heart pounded. I grabbed my head and dug my claws into my scalp.
Not really here. Wake up, Toni. Wake up!
