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

by Ingrid Seymour

  “Okay, so you find another one.”

  “I’m not sure there’s another in St. Louis, and I don’t want to ask her for more tears. It was hard the first time around. Plus, it’ll look unprofessional. Gah! I guess I will have to tell her we couldn’t find anyone.”

  Rosalina groaned.

  “What?”

  “I called her this morning and told her that you had.”

  I collapsed back on the bench. “Then, I’ll have to tell her I made a mistake or something.”

  “That’ll look unprofessional too and won’t be good for the reputation we’re trying to build. She’ll tell everyone in her circles that we’re useless.”

  I pulled at my hair, my frustration mounting. We couldn’t let that happen. Moving into a tier of more exclusive customers was crucial to our business plan. I could only serve a few clients a month, and it would be impossible to stay afloat for long any other way. Our little savings wouldn’t last and my new place... I would have to give it up. I stomped my foot and pulled at my hair again.

  “It’s your decision, Toni,” Rosalina said. “I’ll be okay with whatever you choose to do.”

  I couldn’t fail Rosalina. She’d put all her trust in me. Maybe the guy was miserable being a priest. Celibacy sucked. I could attest to that. Maybe if I—

  “Are you all right?” a melodious voice asked from my left.

  I glanced up to find Celina’s priest standing next to the bench. He wore a concerned expression and seemed ready to offer help and save me from whatever evils plagued my life, and his face was so kind and wise-looking that I had no doubt he could rescue me from the very claws of deadly sin.

  “Toni?” Rosalina said on the other end of the line.

  “Let me call you back.” I pressed the “end” button and turned to the priest. “Um, hi.”

  He smiled, his hands clasped in front of him. He had gentle brown eyes that immediately inspired trust. “I couldn’t help but notice your... distress, and I thought, perhaps, I could be of assistance. May I?” He inclined his head toward the bench.

  I scooted over a bit to give him more room. “Sure.”

  He sat and took a big deep breath, looking content. “Gorgeous spring day, isn’t it?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I didn’t know what to say. I’d never talked to a priest before. I wasn’t a religious person. Regardless, I sensed this man was made out of something wholesome.

  Damn, I’m done for.

  I would have to give Celina’s money back. I couldn’t sow doubt in this man’s heart. Because that was exactly what would happen. If he met Celina, he would immediately be torn between his current life of service and the possibility of a different kind of happiness.

  He glanced toward me. “I noticed you’ve been sitting here a while. What’s your name?”

  “Toni.”

  “My name is Vincent. I’m a priest at the Basilica.”

  “I figured that much.”

  He sheepishly touched his collar and smiled with such gentleness I felt my heart melt into a puddle of toffee, which would take hours to scrape off the bottom of my chest. Sheesh, the man held the power of a thousand cute puppies packed into one set of brown eyes. One look at this man and Celina would turn into a priest-eating, god-defying lunatic. She probably wouldn’t stop until she’d torn the tunics off his back and ravaged him on the spot.

  “What brings you here?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you before. Do you live in one of the apartments? A new tenant perhaps?” He glanced toward the tall building across from the Cathedral.

  “No, I was here looking for someone, part of my job.”

  “I see.”

  “It’s not going well though.”

  He nodded. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  If he only knew. I pondered whether to tell him, warring with my feelings for selfish self-preservation and the desire to do the right thing for someone else.

  “Not really,” I said at last.

  He frowned. “I sense you’re not being honest.”

  Okay, that had to be like some sort of superpower shit. Maybe he was a Skew of some kind, though I wasn’t getting a special scent from him. He smelled totally human. Maybe he was just wise beyond his years.

  “Well, it’s hard,” I said. “See, there is a choice I have to make, and I’m struggling with it because... it could change someone’s life drastically.”

  He made a contemplative sound in the back of his throat, then said, “I guess you should ask yourself, would it change their life for the better?”

  “There’s really no way of telling. It might. It might not. I think it would make them happy in a way, but it also might leave them with doubts and regrets for the rest of their life.”

  He rubbed his chin. “Interesting dilemma you have.”

  “Now you see why I’m so frustrated.”

  “I do,” he paused. “Well, as a priest, I sometimes have to face these types of situations. There are things people tell me during confession that require stern advice and warnings. Sometimes the things I hear are a burden on me, but I have to trust in God and his plan. So I listen, advise the best I can, and leave the rest in God’s hands.”

  Dammit, he’s not making this easier.

  He shifted to face me. “It sort of feels this choice is a burden on you as well. Why is that?”

  I decided to put all the cards on the table, so he could lay it on me a bit thicker. “Because I stand to gain something from it.”

  “Ahhh, a moral dilemma, truly.”

  “You got that right.”

  “Well, child,” he gave me those gentle puppy eyes again, making me feel terrible, “this speaks to the strength of your character. Most people wouldn’t hesitate to put themselves first.”

  Oh, hell. I sighed, my mind made up. I couldn’t do this to him. I just couldn’t. For some stupid reason, tears pooled in my eyes. I swallowed hard and blinked rapidly.

  “It’ll be okay.” He patted my hand, which rested on the bench.

  “I know.” I sniffled, feeling proud of myself for holding back the tears. “Thanks for your help.”

  “But I didn’t do anything.”

  “You did.” I picked up my bag from the ground, stood, and slung it over my shoulder. “It was great meeting you, father.”

  “You can call me Vincent.” He stood and put out a hand.

  I shook it, feeling better as the decision settled and I accepted it. Rosalina and I would find another way to keep the agency afloat without wrecking anyone’s life, especially this man’s. I turned to leave, then stopped, a thought striking me.

  “Um, are you busy right now?”

  He hooked a thumb toward the church steps. “I was sweeping.” He gave me a charming smile that would make any woman wish he would give up God and go rogue.

  “There’s a friend of mine. He’s in the hospital. I know it would mean a great deal to him if you came to see him and... talk to him.” My voice broke. Tom was Catholic, and maybe Vincent could give him the strength to power toward recovery. Surely they had priests at the hospital, but none as special as Vincent. I was sure.

  Damn, if the tears weren’t making a comeback. Too much was going on, and my emotions were a complete wreck. I had to give myself credit, though. At least, I wasn’t hiding under my bed counting dust bunnies.

  “It would be my honor to visit your friend,” Vincent said. “Were you going there now?”

  I nodded.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Chapter 27

  By the time Vincent and I left the hospital, it was past lunchtime. They hadn’t let me go in to see the detective, but they’d allowed Vincent since he had credentials for such things. I sat in the waiting area, fiddling with my bag strap until he came out. He reassured me that, even though Tom was in critical condition, he had seemed like the kind of man who didn’t give up, and he had a feeling the detective would be all right.

  I thanked him for taking the time out of his day to visit my frien
d.

  “It was nothing. I’ll make sure to visit him every day,” Vincent had said as I dropped him off by the Basilica.

  After that, I drove around for a bit to clear my head and find a place for lunch. My stomach was queasy, but I knew if I didn’t eat, I would get a major headache and wouldn’t feel like going back to the office to deal with the fallout of my oh-so-selfless decision.

  I was feeling down in the dumps, so I decided to treat myself to Pizza-A-Go-Go, a great place that had been in business since the 60s and served New York-style pizza, cash only.

  Their tiny parking lot was packed, so I parked a block down and started walking toward the restaurant. I’d almost gotten there when a black car with tinted windows pulled up next to me. It caught my attention because, as it appeared in my peripheral vision, the damn thing kept going and going and going until it stopped. A limousine.

  Damn, that thing is long.

  I wondered if the occupant needed to compensate for something. Snickering, I continued on my way, trying to decide whether I wanted pepperoni or sausage.

  The driver got out of the limousine. He wore a black suit and looked as thick as a bouncer from an exclusive nightclub. He had dark brown eyes, pale skin, a shaved head, and a well-trimmed goatee. I thought he would open the door to let the limousine passengers out, but instead, he walked up to me, making eye contact. Reflexively, I came to an abrupt stop and glanced all around, feeling threatened.

  He stopped a few paces away and respectfully inclined his head. “Good afternoon, Ms. Sunder. My name is Bertram, and my mistress would like to talk to you.” He had a deep voice with a vague German accent.

  “Your mistress?”

  “Yes, Bernadetta Fiore, I’m sure you’ve heard of her.”

  Oh, shit.

  Now, my eyeballs really started shifting all around, searching for an escape. My palms began to sweat, and my heart climbed into my throat. She had sent two people to kidnap me, and they’d failed. Had she decided to take matters into her own hands?

  “I... I’m afraid I have nothing to discuss with your mistress.” I sidestepped, trying to walk around the driver. He sidestepped, too, blocking my path.

  “She insists.” Bertram gave me a cold smile that made it clear he and his mistress wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  I opened my mouth maybe to scream, I wasn’t sure, but the limousine’s back window slid open with a hiss and a pair of slightly glowing red eyes peered at me from the dark interior, and all I could do was stare.

  “Ms. Sunder,” a deep feminine voice said from inside, “I would come out and introduce myself, but the sun makes it impossible. Would you mind stepping in to talk to me for a moment? I promise it won’t take long.”

  The voice sounded refined and calm. It enunciated every word, pronouncing the syllables with care. Something in the timbre made me think of an older person, someone who had first learned to speak when words carried weight. I knew the Dark Donna had been a vampire for hundreds of years, but that wasn’t the only reason for her arresting voice. Something else made it hard to ignore, an allure that probably had everything to do with her vampire skills and not her ancient ass. I wondered when she’d been bitten and created, if she’d be willing or a victim. Some Stales thought werewolves were created the same way, but that was ridiculous. Werewolves were born, not bitten.

  Against my will, I found my feet shuffling toward the car. Bertram opened the door, and before I knew it, I was sitting across from the most stunning creature I’d ever seen in my life. The limousine door slammed shut and the tinted window automatically went up.

  Bernadetta Fiore appeared in the newspapers enough, so any self-respecting St. Louis resident had seen her likeness gracing the social column. I’d known of her beauty, but what I’d seen in photographs paled in comparison to real life.

  She had jet black hair and skin as smooth as marble. I expected her to be pale, but she had an olive complexion much like mine. Inside the car, her eyes didn’t glow red but appeared perfectly black. Her full mouth sported nude lipstick, and her long lashes fluttered like tranquil butterflies. She wore black leather pants stuffed into boots with four-inch heels, a midnight blue top with a low square neckline, and an honest-to-god cloak pinned together at her throat by an elaborate silver broach encrusted with rubies. She appeared slight and short, maybe five-foot-one, another thing I’d misjudged from the papers. Still, her small body oozed control, calculated judgment, and latent strength.

  My heart skipped around like a jackrabbit. I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling as if I could somehow keep it from punching a hole through my ribs and skidding into the limousine’s carpeted floor like a yummy treat for the vampiress. My skin started to itch like crazy, but I refrained from scratching. Damn, I seriously needed to go see a dermatologist, but who has money for that?

  I glanced around the limousine’s interior to distract myself. Four massive, cream leather bucket seats—two facing each other—occupied most of the space. Chestnut-colored wood, polished to a shine, accentuated a minibar and a mounted monitor displaying a company logo that read “Fiore Enterprises.”

  “I am so sorry to inconvenience you in this manner,” Bernadetta said, inclining her head.

  “It’s okay. No problem. I was just going in to get me some pepperoni pizza. Or maybe sausage. I can’t decide. Anyway, I have nothing pressing on my calendar and I...”

  Oh, shut up already, Toni.

  If the vamp didn’t already have thoughts of slashing my throat and draining me dry, all my rambling would surely give her the idea.

  “Good,” she said, illustrating what a verbal wreck I was with her succinctness. A slow smile spread over her Kylie-Jenner lips.

  I resisted the urge to say anything else and waited for the Dark Donna to initiate conversation. She’d been the one to seek me out, after all.

  “It has come to my attention that you are working with Ulfen Erickson, and I assume it has something to do with his son’s disappearance.”

  I hugged my shoulder bag tightly to my stomach. “Um... I... well, you see, I...”

  I clenched my lips together, aware of the fact that my verbal wreck had turned into a pileup, one of those that happen on bad snow days. She had kidnapped Ulfen’s son and wanted to know if I’d found out where she was keeping him.

  Nope, no ma’am. I didn’t find anything out. You hid him well. That’s what I should’ve said, except for that last part, of course.

  I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. A strangely familiar sweet, warm scent combined with the metallic sharpness of blood filled my head. I’d been so busy trying not to pee my pants that I hadn’t noticed the stomach-churning odor. My poor bladder almost let go as I remembered where I’d sensed something similar.

  Oh, crap! My eyes darted toward the door handle. Would I be able to move fast enough to jump out of the car before Bernadetta pinned me to the seat and ate me for lunch? I doubted it. Vampires could move at preternatural speeds. I had never seen one do it, but it was common knowledge.

  Bernadetta gave me a raised eyebrow. “I take that as a yes.”

  “Yes,” I squeaked. “B-but I didn’t find him.” The last few words rushed out of my mouth like bullets.

  The vamp narrowed her eyes. They pierced through me like needles, making me feel bare and unhinged as if my joints had turned to rubber.

  “You tell the truth,” she said, not a question but a statement.

  “Always, I always tell the truth. It’s like a compulsion, like I can’t help myself. People ask me stuff, and I just tell them everything. Sometimes I think there’s something wrong with me and I—”

  Bernadetta’s teeth snapped together once as if saying “enough.” I shut my mouth.

  Holy witchlights! What was wrong with me? I’d just told her a big, fat lie as I tried to convince her that I spoke nothing but the truth. Man, could today get any worse?

  “Not that it matters what you think,” she said, looking me up and down as if I wasn’t wo
rth the air I breathed, “but I did not kidnap Stephen Erickson. Somebody wants to start a war and it’s not me. I like the way things are.”

  Yeah, right. Who was the liar, now? The limousine reeked of that same overpowering scent I’d spotted during my trance.

  “Ulfen needs to look elsewhere,” she added, “and he needs to find better trackers.”

  Excuse me? That got my hackles up. I’m a damn good tracker. Stephen was the only known mark I’d been unable to find, and only because an evil vamp was involved.

  She leaned forward in her seat, making the huge car shrink with her closeness. “Tell him to leave me alone or there will be war.”

  “Tell him yourself,” I snapped, surprising myself.

  I was scared, but I’d had it. I was done with being intimidated by her. Or anyone else, for that matter. I already had enough to worry about to add a deranged vamp to the list.

  “I don’t work for him,” I added. “I was trying to do him a favor because I know his son. That is all. So leave me out of it.”

  She reassessed me, leaning back and letting her gaze travel the length of my body. After a moment, she said, “Then let me give you some advice, be careful who you do favors for. It will do you no good to get involved in things you don’t understand. You might... get yourself killed.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  Bernadetta chuckled, deep in her throat. “I don’t do threats, Ms. Sunder. When something bothers me, I simply take care of it. Have a good day.”

  As she said the words, Bertram opened the door and sunlight cut through the door. The vamp pushed back in her seat. I let out a pent-up breath and would have hugged the particles of light if I’d been able to.

  I’m alive. I’m alive.

  Apparently, the Dark Donna didn’t stoop to personally killing little peons like me. She preferred others to get their hands dirty, thank goodness. I jumped out, and without a glance back, hurried back toward my car.

  I had completely lost my appetite.

  Chapter 28

  I drove back to the office on autopilot. I parked a few spaces down from the front door, shut the engine off, and went limp in my seat. Maybe packing and moving to where nobody knew me was the real answer to everything. I could FaceTime with Rosalina and my family. They might hate me for being a coward, but at least I would be alive and safe from all St. Louis’s Skew badasses. I could get a job as a barista, my biggest worry tracking the hazelnut creamer on the shelves. It would certainly be a lot easier than this mess.