Page 90 of The Tracker's Rage
“You expect me to believe Ms. Allison Blackridge doesn’t try to enjoy her fiancé.”
“Believe it or not, we hardly talk.”
Well, that was nothing like what I’d been imagining. When I met her at Walter Knight’s house, I’d gotten a different impression. Of course, I had been blinded by jealousy, so there was no telling which of my memories were real and which were enhanced by my envy of her.
“What? Is she shy or something?” I asked.
“I don’t think so.” He looked pensive for a moment. “She’s just a victim of the circumstances as much as me.”
That certainly offered a different perspective that I hadn’t considered. This was an arranged marriage, and though it was not unheard of among werewolves, it wasn’t common either. Still, she’d had to agree, right? Jake had. No one had forced him. Of course, he was a strong alpha, and I doubted anyone could force him to do anything he didn’t want. Allison, on the other hand... She wasn’t an alpha, from what I understood. Maybe theyhadforced her.
I frowned. I knew better than to get my hopes up. This pact between the Blackridges and the Knights was real.
“Either way,” I shrugged. “You got yourself into this mess, and even though I’ll be waiting, I don’t see why I shouldn’t have a little fun in the meantime.”
“Because you love me.” Jake grinned his heart-stopping grin.
It was true enough. He was the only man I’d ever loved, but was it smart to put my life on hold for him, hoping hemightget out of an unbreakable pact?
I turned away from Jake, determined not to lose my good humor, and grabbed a miniature quiche from the hors d’oeuvres tray. As I nibbled on it, I noticed Damien finally standing from the couch and walking toward Rosalina.
He gave her a tentative smile, and they began talking, their gazes furtively meeting, then falling to the floor. I smiled, glad to see that Damien had gotten over that call to the police. If I was objective about it, I realized that it wasn’t a minor offense. If someone called the police on me, I wasn’t so sure I could forgive them at all. But obviously, Damien was a better person than me and willing to look past that stumbling block.
Everything was looking up. Tomorrow Josh’s antidote would be ready. Damien would save his daughter, and we would save our customer and possibly our reputation.
* * *
THE NEXT DAY AFTERa leisurely lunch with Rosalina at one of our favorite restaurants, we got back to the office to wait for Damien. To pass the time, I went in the potions alcove to gather ingredients and make sure I had everything I needed for our new customer.
I lost track of time and, glancing at my phone, I walked out into the lobby. “Damien is late,” I said.
Rosalina glanced up from the computer and checked her wrist watch, frowning. “Yeah, that’s unlike him. Should I call?” She reached for her phone.
“Maybe. Or just send him a text.”
Her thumbs moved quickly over the screen, then she hit send. She was putting the phone down when the front door burst open, and the mage staggered into the room, then collapsed to the floor.
“Damien!” Rosalina exclaimed, jumping to her feet.
We both ran to him and knelt by his side. Damien was laying on his stomach. We grabbed his shoulders and helped him roll over.
Rosalina gasped. I pressed a hand to my mouth.
A large hole was carved in his chest, the edges glowing with crackling magic, bones and sinew visible.
Oh, no!Dread washed over me.
“Call 911!” Rosalina exclaimed.
I reached for my phone and dialed quickly. I talked to the dispatcher and gave her directions to the agency.
Rosalina’s hands hovered over Damien’s chest, her face contorting as she seemed to run through things she could do to help and came up blank.
“You’ll be all right,” she said. “Someone will be here soon to help you.”
I pulled at my hair, wishing I had some of my sister’s healing abilities so I could help Damien. I took his hand in mine, my heart pounding out of control.
“Who did this?” I asked.
