Page 67 of The Tracker's Rage
“I noticed.”
I sighed and set the tumbler down next to Jake’s. “Let me change first, then I’ll try to explain what I saw when I touched his pendant.” I gestured toward the pile of clothes.
Ulfen handed them over, and as I stood, he pointed toward the corridor to my back. “There’s a powder room that way.”
I found the room and locked the door behind me. The space was ample and well-stocked with embroidered hand towels and tiny soaps in a porcelain dish right by a large vessel sink.
I picked a pair of sweats and a baggy T-shirt and felt glad to be rid of the silky robe. It had felt icky against my skin for some reason. One hundred percent cotton was more my thing.
The memory of my glowing body flashed before my eyes. Neither Jake nor Ulfen had brought it up, so maybe I’d been the only one able to see my Christmas tree impersonation. I really hoped so because I would have no idea what to tell them if they started asking questions. I needed to talk to Damien before I drew any conclusions. He was the only one who could help explain my situation. I pushed the memories away, stamping them down flat at the bottom of my list of things to worry about. They probably needed to be at the very top, but I just couldn’t deal with them right now.
“Jake,” I said when I returned to the living room, “I left the rest of the clothes by the sink. Go change. I think we’re safe here.”
Reluctantly, he hopped off the couch and went into the bathroom. He was back in a matter of seconds, also wearing sweats and a T-shirt, except in his case, they didn’t drape over his body like curtains, but hugged his firm muscles tightly, especially his fine butt.
He sat next to me again and, for a moment, I wished he would put his head back on my lap so I could run my fingers through his silky light brown hair, but that wasn’t going to happen. In fact, he sat at the other end of the sofa, making me feel bereft.
“So... did it work?” Ulfen asked. “Were you able to figure out who gave him the pendant?”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
Jake turned his body to face me. “But you said you saw something?”
“I did. There was actually a lot, but it was all behind a veil of color, so I couldn’t tell what any of it was. It was overwhelming. It made me weak and gave me a horrible headache. Stephen had to carry me back to the booth.”
Both Jake and Ulfen nodded. They had witnessed my little fainting spell, which made me feel like such a wimp.
“But then, at the end,” I continued, “there was a moment when all the colors cleared and I saw a weird shape. It’s nothing I’ve ever seen before, but it was like...” I tried to think of how to explain it, then realized it would be a lot easier if I drew it. “Do you have pen and paper?” I asked Ulfen.
He gave a nod and stood. A moment later, he was back from the bar with a yellow legal pad and an ink pen.
I drew the symbol I’d seen in my mind’s eye the best I could: a triangle with a dagger inside of it. I was no artist, but I wasn’t even done sketching it out when Ulfen inhaled sharply. My pen stopped. Jake and I both glanced up.
“What is it?” Jake asked. “Do you recognize it?”
Ulfen nodded and swallowed thickly. The color drained from his face, and he stood up and started pacing in front of the sofa.
After a few beats of silence, Jake grew irritated. “So are you going to tell us about it? Or what?”
Ulfen stopped by the windows and peered out into the night, hands poised on his waist. “We need to call for a meeting of the Pack Rule.”
“What?!” Jake exclaimed incredulously, rising to his feet. His wide-eyed expression made my heart pick up its beat. He didn’t spook easily.
I swallowed thickly. “What’s the Pack Rule?”
“It’s a group of wolf leaders formed by the alphas of all the packs in a certain territory,” Jake answered. “Every city has its own group, and they all answer to the Supreme Pack Rule, which has been around for a very long time. Pack Rules come together when the safety of their territories is threatened.” He directed his attention toward Ulfen. “Our Pack Rule hasn’t convened in several years. Why would some symbol require them to meet?”
I imagined a bunch of geriatric alpha’s arguing with each other. Not a pleasant thought.
Ulfen slowly turned away from the windows. When he faced us, his expression was pinched and unhappy. “That’s not justsomesymbol, Knight. As harmless as it may seem, it’s heresy, and it represents the worst possible crime among supernaturals.”
I glanced between the two alphas, my heart racing as I sensed the tension building between them. For Skews to call anything heresy, it had to be bad.
“That symbol,” Ulfen said, “is used to represent hybrid packs.”
