Page 2 of The Tracker's Revenge
Rosalina pressed a hand to his cheek and smiled tenderly, then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his pale lips. His eyes closed, and he expired.
“Me, too.” Rosalina rested her forehead on his shoulders and cried.
* * *
ISAT UP PANTING, IMAGESof Damien’s tortured body flashing before my eyes.
For a moment, I panicked. I was in a strange room, surrounded by bare walls. I hugged the covers around my body, my heart hammering out of control. It was a few beats before I remembered I was in Eric Cross’s house. After Damien’s murder yesterday, Eric insisted that Rosalina and I stay here, for our safety, since the place was protected by the best Stale and Skew security money could buy. Jake was also adamant about it. They wouldn’t takenofor an answer.
Rosalina was staying in the room next door. Eric’s house was big with enough room to accommodate twenty or thirty more people. It was no hardship for him to let us stay.
I breathed in and out, wishing the remnants of my nightmare to dissipate. Once my heart had quieted down, I slipped out of bed and walked to the dresser in the corner, the only other piece of furniture besides the bed. I opened the top drawer to ensure the vials Damien had entrusted to me only yesterday were still there. They contained the cure for his daughter, Liliana, and my client’s soulmate, Josh. The vials rested securely inside a small padded box, their clear liquid shimmering inside. I snapped the case shut, and carried it with me to the adjacent bathroom. I locked the door behind me and checked the time on my phone, which I’d left by the sink, charging. It wasn’t even 6 AM.
I groaned. I didn’t like getting up early. Even after all the 4-AM sessions with Eric, I still wasn’t used to it, and I doubted I would ever be. I’d rather leave the wee hours of the morning to farmers and chickens.
The scalding hot shower in the luxurious bathroom did wonders for my body, if not for my mind. I felt as if instead of six hours of sleep, I’d spent the night swimming the length of the Mississippi River and had been put away wet. But the water helped my muscles relax, unknot.
With my mind feeling numb and blank, I got dressed in a pair of tight jeans, black boots, a T-shirt, and a field jacket with many pockets. Lastly, I hung the token Damien had given me around my neck. I’d attached it to a chain to make sure it was always with me. On my way out of the bathroom, I gently placed the box with the cure inside the pocket near my heart and carelessly stuffed my phone in another.
I left the room, closing the door behind me without making a sound. When I passed in front of Rosalina’s door, I stopped and listened. No sounds. She was probably still asleep, and I was glad for it. Damien’s death had hit her hard. They had liked each other despite their differences, and something had been brewing between them, something that might have gone somewhere nice and happy. But it had all been cut short by some fucking, cowardly Midnight Witch who attacked him without warning.
No one had seen anything, and it was no surprise. She had surely used magic to obscure the attack from any witnesses. Damien had barely made it to us, pushing himself through the pain and agony of his injuries to deliver the rhabo cure into our hands. Two vials that would save two people. Had it been worth his life?
I shook my head, pushing away the question, fearing I would never stop reliving those terrible moments, wondering if I’d ever stop feeling so impotent.
Pulling away from the door, I swallowed thickly and made my way down the long hall. In a large sitting area that could very well belong in a European palace, I stopped and wondered at Eric’s peculiar home. The front entrance and training room, which I was familiar with, looked nothing like this. The front was decorated in a cold, sparse, modern style, while other rooms were warm and inviting, filled with comfortable furniture, wood accents, and intricate rugs. I meandered through the space, dragging a finger over the back of a cream-colored sofa and making my way through a large door into another hall.
The house seemed like a labyrinth, and I wandered about carelessly, paying little attention to the hangings on the walls, and the many pieces of expensive furniture that occupied the rooms I passed.
The smell of coffee had me turning toward another corridor. I followed my keen nose past a small reading room and found the kitchen.
Eric was there, dressed in sweatpants and a sleeveless T-shirt soaked in sweat. From the looks of it, he had been up early, training, as was his habit. He didn’t turn to face me, though I knew well he must’ve heard me coming. His senses were keener than mine, though mine were still changing, getting more refined as I grew used to being a werewolf.
“You missed another training session,” Eric said, sounding angry.
The last thing on my mind was training. I had no desire, no energy left in me. I was drained, physically and emotionally. He had to know that, but maybe having lost his heart made it impossible for him to grasp the concept of grief. Damien had been his friend for who knew how long, and yet, his death didn’t seem to have disrupted his routine in the least. Maybe he was a robot.
I found myself getting angry. Words rose to my lips to tell him what I thought of his cold discipline, or whatever he called it. But when he turned to face me, I forced myself to swallow my biting response.
He looked terrible. His blue eyes were bloodshot, the whites crisscrossed with tiny veins. Huge circles surrounded them, and his features were drawn and drooping as if he’d aged a couple of years overnight. His nose was red as if he’d been crying, but I knew that couldn’t be it. I didn’t think Eric was capable of tears.
Thrusting a cup of coffee forward in a quick toast, he nodded, then sat at the breakfast nook. “Help yourself.”
I poured hot coffee from a simple pot—nothing like the fancy espresso contraption Damien had kept in his kitchen—and sat across from Eric. We sipped the bitter brew in silence, words seeming empty and dying on my tongue before I ushered them out.
“Do I really need more training?” Finally, I asked, rubbing my stiff neck.
“Pshaw,we haven’t even scratched the surface.”
“Maybe I can get by.”
He made a face of disgust. “Oh, so we’ve grown overconfident.”
“Whatever! I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”
I waited for him to bark in anger, but he just ran a hand over his dark brown hair, and changed the subject. “It will be a busy day today.”
Unfortunately, he was right. I wasn’t looking forward to today, and I would have rather avoided it altogether, but there was no getting around it.
