Page 7 of The Tracker's Rage
“I think I know who’s behind the rhabo influx into the city,” I said.
“Is that so?” Tom rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, his expression more skeptical than ever. He was probably remembering how we’d sent him after Damien Ward with claims that the mage had rhabo in his house. The detective had gotten a warrant and found nothing in Damien’s home. No wonder his trust was broken.
“I may be wrong,” I said. “My skills as a werewolf are only beginning to manifest, and I’m only starting to understand what I am and how everything works. You see, I didn’t learn this until last night, but I’m an alpha.”
“Holy witchlights!” Rosalina exclaimed, pressing a hand to her mouth. “How do you know that?”
“Alphas are able to push their thoughts into other werewolves’ minds. They are also able to listen to their thoughts whentheyproject them out.”
“Shit,” Rosalina said in a whisper.
“This particular skill didn’t come to the surface right away,” I continued. “But last night, I understood something that happened at the warehouse that I didn’t fully grasp in the beginning. The memory came back to me in a sort of... dream state.” I would have rather not mention this part—Tom would probably think I was cuckoo-bananas—but since I wasn’t a hundred percent sure about what I’d experienced, I felt it was better to be honest.
“A dream state?” Tom repeated, a deep frown line appearing on his forehead.
Yep, he thought I was five cans short of a six-pack. I shrugged. “It is what it is. I still have to tell you in case what I think I heard is right.”
He sighed. “Shoot then.”
“While Blake was lying on the floor in pain from the wolfsbane, probably thinking he was going to die, I heard him call out for help inside his mind. At the time, I only felt this awful pressure in my temples, but last night, my subconscious was able to interpret the message he was sending out.”
“Oh, my God,” Rosalina said. “I’m on pins and needles. What did he say?”
“He called out for Stephen Erickson’s help.”
“What?!” Rosalina asked in a breathy voice.
“Stephen might have been there in the warehouse,” I added. “He might have been the one that helped Blake attack Jake and the one who helped Blake get away.”
I waited for Tom to say something, but he just sat there, his dark eyes roving over all the items on the table.
“I want to be wrong,” I said. “I don’t want it to be him.”
Tom still said nothing.
“I’m mad as a hatter, right? I keep thinking Jake would have recognized Stephen. He must know his wolf. They’re friends. Unless Stephen did something to disguise his wolf at the warehouse, which is entirely possible with a mage helping him.”
Tom pulled out his wallet, fished out several twenty dollar bills, and set them on the table. “This should cover the check and tip.” He pushed his chair back, getting ready to leave.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To the station. I need to go over the case files with this new perspective in mind.”
“Why? Is there something...?” I didn’t know what to ask, so I let the question hang.
“There are a few things that don’t add up about Stephen’s kidnapping,” he said. “I can’t discuss details, but this may shed new light on the case. I should go now. If you learn anything else, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
I nodded and watched him leave, feeling my heart sink like lead.
“If... Stephen faked his own kidnapping,” Rosalina started tentatively, “does that mean he sent those people to kidnap you?”
Tears pooled in my eyes as I played with my napkin, my entire being shrinking away from that idea.
“I guess,” I said after a few beats. I almost choked on the words. I had risked my life for him, had fought a huge shifter and two vampires, faced Bernadetta Fiore, had even killed someone because I thought he was in danger. All for what? A fake kidnapping?
“Why would he do that?”
This was an important question that in my confused state of mind I had barely considered. Rosalina and I exchanged a glance, both frowning as we thought about the possibilities.
