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

I exited the office and stepped into the corridor. The windows were waist-high, so I squatted then peeked over the edge at the outdoor garage area. The space looked as big as a basketball court, and a variety of vehicles waited for repairs.

One of them was the Lucciola Candle Shop van.

My breath hitched and my heart sped up to near-death speed.

Stephen.

Was he inside the van? I inhaled sharply as if, among all the intense scents, I would be able to detect his familiar one coming from the van. For all I knew, they’d transferred him to another vehicle. It would make sense if this one needed repairs.

I scanned the garage for movement and hiding spots. Jake had jumped in there, but where was he? And what about Bertram? Was he the van’s driver? Probably not. He seemed too high in the pecking order for such a job. He’d been driving Fiore herself.

I felt stuck. Should I go check the van for Stephen, possibly exposing myself?

No. Jake was already out there, and I had a clear view of everything. From here, I could take good aim and let loose a few shots if it came to it.

Movement caught my attention. Holding my breath, I stared down the sights at the figure sneaking around the car parked in front of the van.

Jake.

He was still in human form but might as well have been walking on all fours, stalking like a predator toward the white van. I wanted to yell in warning and tell him a vampire was around, but that would only give away his presence... and mine.

I bit my lower lip and tried to calm my breathing. My body tingled and itched all over again, feeling like it didn’t belong to me, like my skin had shrunk.

Suddenly, the vampire flew out of nowhere and landed on top of the van with a crunch of metal, his face twisted in a mask of savagery, fangs elongated, eyes pools of black ink, hands tipped with two-inch claws.

Without thinking, I stretched to my full height and aimed the gun at Bertram. Vision tunneling, I pulled the trigger and hit him square in the chest. He barely staggered backward and glanced down at the hole in his shirt with annoyance. He shook his head and sent me a withering glare that should have frozen me on the spot, but instead, I pulled the trigger again and again until I emptied the gun. Each explosion reverberated loudly, like hammer blows pounding straight against my brain.

The shots hit their mark with incredible accuracy. The practice sessions with Tom at the shooting range had paid off. Bertram twitched with each hit, distracting him long enough for Jake to shift.

A beautiful dark gray wolf leaped onto the van’s hood. He was massive and filled me with awe. I had seen his animal only twice before. The first time after I begged him to show me, and the second time the night we rescued Emily Garner while he used his extraordinary senses to spot her exact location.

But now, he looked bigger.

Even on all fours, he stood nearly five-foot tall from his massive paws to the top of his head. His shoulders were wide, and he was made of pure, taut sinew. His paws were the size of softballs and tipped with dark claws as sharp as surgical scalpels.

His chest rumbled deeply in an unequivocal threat to the vampire. Leaping over the van’s windshield in one fluid motion, he landed on the roof, then bounded again, claws screeching against metal. Like a wrecking ball, he slammed against the vampire, knocking him off.

Bertram hit the ground with a thud and tried to scramble to his feet, but Jake landed on top of him, claws ripping his chest open. The vampire growled in pain as Jake raked his claws down and angled his jaw toward his neck. But this creature was no easy prey, and he wrapped his hands around the wolf’s neck, raking with his own claws, making Jake yelp.

No!

I didn’t have any more bullets, and even if I did, what good were they?

As Jake and Bertram scrambled on the ground, snarling and tearing each other to pieces, a figure suddenly moved inside the Lucciola van.

What the...?

I squinted through the dim light as the person opened the door, gingerly stepped out, and slunk away from the van and the snarling creatures. As the figure moved away to hide behind another vehicle, I gasped. It was a female with a short, tufted tail and small fawn horns.

A Fae!

Was she the one who’d been driving Stephen around and maybe he was still in the van? Did this mean the Fae were responsible for kidnapping him? Had they done it to start a war between vampires and werewolves as I’d imagined? They would certainly benefit from it, strengthening their foothold in the human realm as that of the others weakened. Or did this Fae work for the Dark Donna? It was uncommon for Fae to trust others but not unheard of.

Crouching low, she ran toward the garage door. Skillfully, she leaped, climbed over the sidewall, avoiding the razor wire with ease, and disappeared on the other side.

Shit! I couldn’t let her escape. I had to stop her, so we could find out the truth. Whirling, I dashed back outside, running at a full pelt. On the sidewalk, I skidded to a stop, my eyes immediately homing in on her moving shape. She was fast like a gazelle, her short tail bouncing behind her as she ran.

Damn, there’s no way I can catch her. Despite my certainty, something inside me snapped, an instinct that urged me to give chase.

“Hey, stop right there!” I yelled, the cry echoing down the deserted street.

The Fae glanced over her shoulder, then ran faster.

Every one of her steps seemed to be three of mine. I would never match her speed. Anger and frustration built inside me as my legs and arms pumped to their