The Tracker's Secret: Sunderverse (Mate Tracker Book 2) by Ingrid Seymour (the gingerbread man read aloud .txt) 📗

it should. The ringing in my ears subsided quickly, and the pain across my back did, too.

Rosalina helped me stand, hanging around me like a mother hen, dusting my backside as if I were a toddler who had fallen in the playground. I gave her a sheepish smile of thanks as embarrassment washed over me. She had been horrified by me. What if I had hurt her? I couldn’t keep putting her in danger.

“Thank you.” I moved back, putting some distance between us, then turned to Damien.

Before I could even ask anything, he spoke. “Pain will keep you human. Remember that.”

Pain?!

Of course. That was the reason I hadn’t been able to shift in the restaurant, despite the danger.

“It should do the trick,” Damien said. “Most of the time. Hopefully.”

“Well, that’s not very helpful?” Rosalina said.

“It’s better than nothing, love. Anyhow, you two have already taken enough of my time today, and I have things to do.”

Pausing, he seemed to consider what to say next. After a moment of deep consideration, he sighed, pulled a drawer open, and took out two envelopes. He kept one to himself and put one next to the jar of stinky poo.

“This is an invitation to a very exclusive party tonight. Lucky for you, I happen to have two of them, so you can have that one.”

He fanned himself with the envelope and winked at Rosalina, who both glowered and blushed crimson.

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I had more pressing things to worry about. “Please, explain why the hell you would give me a jar of shit and a party invitation when what I need is help not shifting into an unpredictable animal?”

Damien huffed. “The moonfable,” he gestured toward the jar, “is so that you can pass for human among werewolves. It will mask your werewolf scent without disturbing your human smell, the same way my spell has done so far. Just dab a little bit like perfume every morning, and you’ll be safe.”

“Safe?” Rosalina and I echoed at the same time.

I was in danger from other werewolves?

“Yes, once the effects of my spell completely wears out, other werewolves will be able to take in your scent and know you’re a weakling. An omega, most likely, given your lack of experience. That would be a very bad thing. A pack could take you and make you their... bitch. Weak shifters don’t do well. Anyone stronger than you, which pretty much will be anyone at this point, will seek to subdue you, make you do whatever they want. It’s a dog eat dog world out there.”

“Lovely.” I swallowed thickly and protectively pulled the jar toward me. It seemed the most valuable poop was now in my possession.

Damien made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, glad that I understood. I didn’t know much about shifters and their customs—they were secretive—but everyone understood what could happen to a runt.

“As for the invitation,” Damien said, “the werewolf throwing the party is an acquaintance of mine. He owes me a big favor. I will cash it in tonight by asking him to help you, to teach you how to control the shift and hopefully save you from a lifetime of poop perfume as you would call it.” He twirled a finger and pointed toward the jar.

I stood speechless. He had decided to help me? After all his posturing? I’d really thought he would wash his hands of me, but he’d just given me the two things I needed most at the moment. As realization hit me, I darted a glance in his direction. He stood haughty, his pointed chin up in the air, one white eyebrow cocked. Yet, I saw through his puffed up exterior.

“You do feel guilty,” I said.

“Pshaw!” he exclaimed, facing the stove and turning the knob to the off position. “I’ve never felt guilty about anything in my life. I do what must be done. That is all. Now, go on. Like I said, I have much to do.”

Rosalina and I exchanged wary glances. I needed to know more. I was sure there was a lot Damien Ward could tell me, but I couldn’t press my luck—the moonfable and the promise of a werewolf who could teach me were more than I’d been expecting out of him. So, deciding to take this as a win, I started on my way out. Rosalina followed me, but before we left the kitchen, Damien cleared his throat. We turned and found him standing right behind us.

He snatched Rosalina’s hand in his and inclined his head. “I will pick you up at nine,” he said with a sexy smile that made me do a double take and sent another blush to Rosalina’s cheeks. “I have two invitations, as I said, and would love to show you a good time.”

My mouth opened and closed several times before I finally said, “No way!”

At the same time, Rosalina said, “I would be delighted.”

“Grand.” Damien straightened, turned on his heel, and went back to his bagel.

Rosalina hooked her arm in mine and led me out of there in a hurry. When we made it outside, I blinked at the sunlight, disoriented. The clouds had parted.

We got in my Camaro, and I placed my potion securely between my legs. I started the engine and as it rumbled to life, I asked, “What is wrong with you? Why would you agree to go out with him?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go to that party alone,” she answered, her tone righteous and protective.

Yet, I knew there was more to it than that. She liked Damien Ward and was excited to go out on a date with him.

Chapter 10

WHEN WE GOT TO THE agency later that morning, I rushed into the potions alcove with my poop perfume and applied it generously to my neck, wrists, crook of my elbows, and behind my knees. The stench that rose from the jar made me gag a few times, but