Page 61 of The Tracker's Rage
“Perfect.”
He smiled with brilliant perfect teeth, then crooked a finger beckoning the bartender. “Tell the chef to send some of his best appetizers.”
“On it.” The bartender did a military salute and disappeared through a set of doors in the back.
“The perks of being the owner’s son, huh?” I teased.
“Can’t complain.”
We made our way to the booth and sat comfortably, watching the crowd for a bit. He focused on a dark-skinned dancer contorting herself around a pole and putting her beautiful, athletic body on display. She was a work of art.
“She’s something else,” I said.
“Isn’t she? I hired her just the other day.”
I swirled the liquid inside my tumbler and watched it reflect the light. “It seems you’re settling nicely into your responsibilities as heir. You don’t feel your father’s trying to stifle you anymore?”
“I don’t. He was right all along. I needed to grow up. Besides, it’s not like it can’t be fun.” He twirled a finger to indicate our very fun surroundings.
“Lucky you.”
“Yes, very lucky. Look.” He held both hands up and wiggled ten fingers. “They were able to grow my finger back.”
“Wow,” I managed in a small breath. I couldn’t help but wonder if it had ever been cut. Maybe it had all been a trick.
We were silent for a moment, then he grew serious and said, “They found Blake, did you hear?”
I almost choked and had to make a big effort to meet his eyes and answer. His expression was open and candid, looking nothing like someone who wanted to catch me in a lie. But he had to know Jake and I were responsible for Blake’s capture. Blake must have told him.
“Um, I saw something in the news. It’s crazy. How is he alive? I saw his body...” I trailed off, hoping I wasn’t overdoing it.
He knew I was aware Blake wasn’t dead, but he didn’t know thatIknew he knew that Jake and I had been the ones to fight Blake at the warehouse.Witchlights!That gave me a headache.
He scratched his beard. “I can’t understand it either. The police are investigating. Hopefully, they’ll find out why he did all of this. I trusted him, Toni. My father trusted him, and Blake betrayed all of us.”
So that was the story he was trying to sell me, Blake did everything on his own, and Stephen was an innocent little lamb.
“What a bastard,” I said. “People like that... someone should put a bullet in their brains.”
I examined his face for the slightest hint that might betray his act. He knewIhad been the one to almost kill his henchmen and ruin his little rhabo trip, but he gave nothing away, not the slightest twitch of his mouth or resentful hint in his gaze. Was he really that good of an actor? Or could Ulfen be right? Could someone be controlling him? Maybe he wasn’t aware of what he was doing. Vampires could use their compulsion powers on Stales, but not on shifters of any kind, so a mage would have to be behind any sort of manipulation.
“But enough of that.” Stephen waved a hand around. “Tell me about you. How is any of this possible?” He twitched his nose to indicate my wolf scent.
“Blame my mother for it.”
A huge platter of appetizers got delivered to our booth: bruschettas, fried calamari, stuffed mushrooms, and tomato and mozzarella skewers.
We ate a bit before I proceeded to tell him about my discovery, though with as little detail as possible. In the end, he looked shocked, his mouth slightly parted, and his words nowhere to be found for a few beats. Once more, the acting was on point.
At last, he spoke. “I’m sorry to say this, Toni, but your mother did you a great injustice.”
“I know. The more I learn, the more I realize that.”
I felt as if I was just starting to scratch the surface of my werewolf potential. On top of that, there were the changes happening to my tracking skills. There was no telling how much different my life would be if my mom had been honest from the beginning. Maybe Jake and I would be together and not fated to forever be apart from each other, with him marrying someone he didn’t love.
A shroud of gloom seemed to fall over me as my thoughts followed the dark path of what could have been. Stephen’s face drew into a sympathetic expression, dashed with a hint of pity. That snapped me back into the moment, and I shook my head, reminded of the reason I was here.
“But enough of me.” I waved a hand in the air the way he had. “How about that dance you promised me?”
