The Tracker's Mate: Sunderverse (Mate Tracker Book 1) by Ingrid Seymour (book recommendations website TXT) 📕

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 revolver 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