The Tracker's Mate: Sunderverse (Mate Tracker Book 1)

by Ingrid Seymour

  “Well met.”

  “Well met.” I gave him a small wave and left the shop.

  I was walking back toward the exit point, thinking about Rosalina’s reaction when I told her I’d seen Prince Kalyll Adanorin when someone rushed me from the side, forcing me inside a narrow alleyway and sending me crashing against a stack of wooden crates. Empty boxes rained all around me as I fell. A sharp corner dug into my back. I cried out in pain and tried to hold to the cloth sack, but it slipped from my hand.

  Heart thumping, I pushed a crate off my chest and blinked up to find a man looming over me. He was dressed all in black, wore a leather cloak, and had spiky, bright red hair—not natural but from cheap dye or a spell gone wrong. His eyes shone the color of a pale sky, which let me know he was an Azure Mage. A crackling spell erupted in his hand, and he pointed it straight at my face. My lungs froze, and a second cry got caught in my throat.

  “You’re coming with me, little tracker,” the mage said as he pulled his hand back.

  The hell I am.

  Acting on pure instinct, I lunged forward, wrapped my arms around his ankles, and took him down. He fell on his ass, his spell shooting up into the sky. Cursing, he reloaded his hand with more magic and prepared to shoot.

  This time I went for his balls and drove my fist right between his legs. He howled in pain, and his spell fizzled down to nothing, sputtering to tiny sparks as he cradled his package. I scrambled away from him, picked up my bag, and jumped to my feet. I started to run out of the alley, but Prince Kalyll appeared out of nowhere and blocked my path. I shrieked and froze.

  The Prince stood staring down at my attacker as he twisted like a wilted earthworm. With one powerful arm, he grabbed the mage by the scruff of the neck, lifted him to a kneeling position, and pressed a dagger to his throat. The mage mewled and went still. Tears rolled down his cheeks, probably in honor of his lost progeny since his balls were now stuck in his kidneys.

  The Prince sneered as the mage whimpered, then, without warning, whacked him in the back of the head. The man’s joints unhinged, and he went as floppy as a marionette, the light disappearing from his eyes.

  Prince Kalyll eased him to the ground and carelessly sheathed the dagger at his waist.

  “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  “Is he... is he dead?” I asked, hiccupping.

  “No. Do you know him?”

  I shook my head, surprised by Kalyll’s cool and calculated demeanor.

  “Spells are forbidden here,” the Prince spat. “I have no tolerance for rule breakers. Are you hurt?” he asked again.

  I shook my head, staring at the designs in Kalyll’s tunic, avoiding his intense cobalt eyes at all costs.

  The Prince poked the mage with one boot. “Why would this man want to hurt you?”

  “I... I don’t know.”

  “Do you come here often?” Kalyll’s voice rang with suspicion.

  Oh, crap! Would he blame me for bringing trouble into his realm?

  “About once a month,” I answered, then hurried to add, “Maybe he was a mugger.” Though he’d said “you’re coming with me, little tracker,” which meant he’d known who I was. But why would anyone want to kidnap me?

  The Prince inclined his head, his midnight-blue hair swinging to one side. “Mugger?”

  “A thief.”

  He took my sack, quickly peered inside, then offered it back. “I doubt it. Unless you have gold or lots of your paper money.”

  I took my humble purchases and hung the bag over my shoulder. They seemed to be intact. “I don’t have either.”

  Kalyll made a sound in the back of his throat. “Then you should take account of your enemies.”

  I didn’t have any enemies—at least that was what I’d believed just moments ago. God, I needed to get out of here, go home. My nerves were wrecked. But would Kalyll let me leave? The Fae resolutely dispensed punishment to any visitor who broke their rules. Exhibit A: the unconscious mage.

  “What is your name, human?” he asked.

  I winced, imagining myself trapped in a Fae prison for the rest of my days. “Toni... Toni Sunder.”

  “I will escort you to the exit point to make sure you get back safely, Toni Sunder.”

  I heaved a sigh of relief.

  As we exited the alley, I glanced back at the mage, wondering what would happen to him. Would they send him back to our realm? Or keep him here? If so, would anyone outside of Elf-hame be notified?

  “My men will take care of him,” Kalyll said as if reading my mind.

  He gestured toward a couple of Fae guards, who wore leggings stuffed into boots and black tunics with an embroidered shield in the middle. They’d been standing at either side of the alley and quickly rushed in and picked the mage up by the arms.

  “We follow procedure when these things happen,” Kalyll continued. “They are part of our agreement with your kind. It will all be done according to our shared laws, I assure you. You can check with your authorities in a few days to report the attack and learn the man’s identity.”

  I’d never been in a situation like this before, so I hadn’t known of these procedures. But knowing the incident would be reported put my mind at ease somewhat.

  When we made it to the exit point, Kalyll inclined his head and left me without a word. I thought of ordering something at the tavern to help calm my nerves, but I was too worried to linger in Elf-hame, so I sat at an empty table, traced my rune on its surface, and materialized back in my realm.

  Chapter 9

  Darkness had descended in my realm.

  I had been so bent on leaving Elf-hame that I didn’t think what would be waiting for me back here: a large park in the middle of the night. Clutching my sack, I left the pavilion and rushed back home. I walked at a clipped pace, glancing left and right, searching for would-be attackers, almost giving myself whiplash.

  I made it back to my street in record time, sweating like a racehorse and fresh out of breath. Relief washed over me when I spotted the sign above our door. I couldn’t wait to get inside, lock the door, and hide behind the protection of Mom’s spells.

  Before going in, I peered all around to make sure the coast was clear. The coffee shop across the street had already closed, and only the pizzeria remained open, so no people roamed the street anymore.

  Hands shaking, I keyed the lock, put the sack on the floor, and stepped inside. Just as I started to close the door, a man appeared out of thin air and shoved the door open again. It hit my forehead, causing me to drop the keys and lose my balance.

  Shit! Not again!

  I staggered backward, arms windmilling. Darkness enveloped me, and as the bell chimed above, he rushed me, knocking me to the floor and forcing a piece of cloth against my mouth. A sharp scent invaded my nostrils, sending lances of pain into my sinuses.

  Bleakkiss! I’d smelled it before, and I knew exactly what it would do to me.

  Pressing my lips together, I held my breath and tried to fight the panic raging through my veins.

  You know what to do. You know what to do.

  In kick-boxing class, the teacher shared self-defense techniques all the time.

  Shit, which one applies now? Think. Think.

  My thoughts were a jumble. Nothing came to me. My lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, and my mind went blank. That was when my instincts took over.

  Reflexively, I curled up on my side, bringing my thighs to my stomach. Then, sneaking a knee against the man’s hips, I uncurled, pushing with all my strength. The move worked as intended, extending and weakening my assailant’s hold. As he struggled to get a better grip, I swung my leg, threw it over his neck, and flipped him over, ending on top. The bleakkiss-soaked cloth fell from his hand as he fought back. I bared my teeth and jammed the palm of my hand against his nose.

  It broke with a crunch.

  The man cried out, gurgling as blood filled his mouth. I jumped to my feet, rushed to Rosalina’s desk, and pulled out the 9mm snub-nosed revolv
er I kept stashed in a drawer. I knew how to use it, and I would if it came to it.

  “Don’t move or I’ll redecorate the place with your brains.”

  Just as I reached for my cell to dial 911, the door to the office burst open and a tall, black figure rushed in. I aimed the gun at the broad chest and nearly pulled the trigger, but stopped when I noticed the glow of silver eyes.

  Jake.

  “Toni, are you all right?” he growled, his voice a rumble of anger and wildness.

  “I’m fine.” I re-aimed the gun at my fallen attacker and pulled the phone out of my pocket.

  Without warning, Jake grabbed the man by the collar, hauled him upright, and slammed him against the wall.

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

  The man groaned and turned away from Jake. Blood oozed from his nose, sliding down to his mouth and chin. I’d done a number on him. Just what he deserved, the asshole. I hoped he would have a crooked nose for the rest of his life.

  “911, what’s your emergency?” the responder asked on the other side of the line.

  “Someone attacked me and tried to...”

  What exactly? Rendered me unconscious, for sure. But why? To rape me? I doubted it, considering this was the second incident tonight. There was more to this.

  I began again. “Someone broke into my office and attacked me. He’s restrained now.”

  The responder rambled something I didn’t fully grasp since I’d become distracted by Jake slamming the guy against the wall, rattling his brains.

  “What did you want with her?” he snarled.

  The man shook his head and said nothing.

  I couldn’t fully see Jake’s face, but in his profile, I noticed his ears growing pointed, and fur sprouting down the back of his neck and arms. Large claws and fangs slid into place. He roared in the man’s face, a savage sound that turned my insides to runny gelatin.

  A stain spread down the man’s jeans and the sharp scent of urine filled the air.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am? What’s going on there?” The responder’s voice broke through the receiver. “Units are on their way. Hold tight and remain on the line.”

  Jake wrapped his clawed hands around my attacker’s throat. “I’ll ask you one more time, and if you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll rip your throat out.”

  Mr. Wetpants whimpered, his knees buckling from fear as Jake crushed him against the brick wall.

  “What did you want with Toni Sunder?”

  “T-they sent me to kidnap her,” he said in a nasally tone.

  Kidnap? Again? What the hell was going on?!

  “Who?” Jake roared.

  The man whined in the back of his throat, looking as if he would wet his pants again. Jake tightened the hold, his claws drawing blood.

  “Jake, please,” I pleaded.

  If he killed the man, it would be a mess, bigger than it already was, and I didn’t have the guts to see someone’s life cut short. Besides, a murder in our office would not be good for business. The police would be here at any moment, anyway. They could deal with him. But Jake ignored me and leaned more heavily into the smaller man.

  “Last chance... answer or I swear you’ll wish you’d never been born. Who sent you?”

  Mr. Wetpants sighed in resignation. He knew Jake meant every word. “It was—” the man’s voice cut off.

  Jake slackened his hold on Mr. Wetpants’ throat.

  The man tried again. “It was—” his voice cut off again.

  “Dammit.” Jake shook him.

  The man tried for the third time. He opened his mouth, shaping a name, but it never came out because he gagged as if to throw up. Jake let him go and took a step back, wiping bloody hands on his jeans. Mr. Wetpants grabbed at his throat and fell to his knees, an awful crackling sound coming from his mouth.

  “What the hell?” Jake glanced at me then back at the man.

  I was still frozen, the phone in one hand and the gun in the other. “What’s happening to him?”

  Jake shook his head as a swarm of black beetles crawled out of the man’s mouth. In seconds, they covered his face, then went back in through his ears, nostrils, and eyes. I turned away in horror.

  The scuttling sound of the bugs went on for a moment longer, then there was a thud, followed by silence.

  I glanced back. The man laid on his side, black, empty sockets where his eyes had been.

  Jake and I were still staring dumbfounded at the ruined shape when patrol cars screeched to a stop outside, sirens wailing and flashing in the night.

  Chapter 10

  An hour after the attack, Jake and I entered the police department escorted by the two officers who drove us there.

  At the counter stood a dark-skinned man in shirtsleeves, and loose tie, a hand smoothing his graying goatee. His sharp brown eyes traveled over a piece of paper, moving quickly. Noticing our approach, he set the page down and walked in our direction.

  “You all right, kid?” He held me at arms’ length, scrutinizing me from head to toe. “I just heard or I would have come myself.”

  Detective Tom Freeman became part of my life the night Jake and I rescued the Garner girl. He had been the detective leading the case and grilled us for hours until he was satisfied with every detail. Through the ordeal, he met my dad, and they struck up a friendship. When Dad passed away of pancreatic cancer a year ago, he asked Tom to take care of me, an assignment he took seriously. We had coffee at least once a week. He was the one who insisted I keep a gun in the office, and the one who took me to the shooting range to practice. He had also suggested kick-boxing.

  He had kids of his own, but one lived in Los Angeles and the other in Denver. His wife had passed away from a heart attack before she turned fifty, and it seemed I’d become his family’s poor substitute. I loved the man to pieces.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  Satisfied, he took a step back, his gaze drifting to Jake, who stood behind me.

  Tom’s expression tightened. “And look who the cat dragged in.”

  The words crackled with hostility. Tom’s capacity to switch from nice to mean and back again always surprised me. He could play good cop, bad cop all on his own. But even though he saw his share of bad shit and knew how to handle it, he didn’t let it darken his soul.

  “Detective,” Jake greeted.

  Tom turned. “Follow me.”

  We went into his office and sat across from him, while he glared at us from behind his desk.

  Yes, Jake and I had helped solve the Emily Garner case, but other times, we’d also stuck our noses where they didn’t belong, pissing people off. Tom had gotten us out of a few binds with his superiors. Like the time I called his boss a racist twatwaffle because he hadn’t bothered to look for a missing Leprechaun that left Elf-hame by accident and got lost in the St. Louis Galleria Mall. Excuse me, but that’s a bigass place for such a little guy. Good thing I’d found him and returned him home safely before he got too comfortable and started jumping out of toilets in the lady’s bathroom. The gates to Elf-hame were highly monitored for a reason.

  “The pair of you again,” Tom said. “As if we don’t have enough problems already.”

  “There’s no pair of us.” I scooted my chair away from Jake’s. “It’s just Jake over there, and me over here.”

  “It’s good to see you too, detective,” Jake said, always the smart ass.

  Tom rubbed his stubble making a sandpapery sound. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, which suggested things around The Hill had him burning the midnight oil.

  He made a tired, come-here motion with his large hand.

  “All right, tell me what happened?”

  Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Tom halted him with a raised index finger. “Not you, Knight. Toni.”

  I gave Jake a satisfied grin. As teenagers, Jake and I had spent many hours in this very office, mostly talking ourselves out of trouble, and Tom had always picked me first to explain things. He said I made
more sense and gave him fewer urges to break someone’s neck.

  Jake huffed and murmured under his breath. “Typical.”

  Without embellishments, I explained everything that happened from the moment I left Rosalina outside the pizzeria to the moment the cops showed up.

  “Shit,” Tom said when I was done. “Not more of this supernatural crap! Beetles? The Seelie Prince? Really? And they never said who sent them.” Tom was a Stale and hated dealing with Skew cases because they messed up his closing rate. Vanilla, human crimes were much easier to solve and kinder on his record.

  I shook my head. “The first guy never had a chance and the second... I think someone put a spell on him to make sure he didn’t rat them out.”

  “I’m sure that’s what they did.” Tom rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve seen it a lot lately. It happened to a couple of eyewitnesses.”

  “Eyewitnesses?” Jake asked.

  Tom’s attention shifted to Jake. “It’s none of your concern.”

  “It is if it has anything to do with Stephen Erickson’s kidnapping.”

  Tom cocked his head to one side and steepled his fingers. “And what does that have to do with you?”

  Jake reached for his wallet, pulled out a business card, and slid it across the desk. “Everything. His father hired me to find him, but more than that, Stephen’s my friend.”

  He’d been hired by Ulfen? He never mentioned that tidbit.

  The detective glanced down at the card. “A PI? God protect us!” He considered for a moment. “Look, I don’t need you causing trouble for us, Knight. Let us do our job.”

  “I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone. All I want is to find Stephen before it’s too late.”

  Tom smiled stiffly. “Then we have the same goal. I hope I don’t need to remind you that if you find out anything important, you should communicate it to the department immediately.”

  “That’s right, you don’t have to remind me.”

  The detective shook his head. “I see you haven’t changed one bit, which I’m afraid doesn’t bode well for either of us.”

  Jake didn’t bother to contradict him. Instead, he gave him one of his crooked, signature smiles—the ones that melted hearts and scorched lingerie.