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

of them, all working furiously, blurring back and forth as they prepared drinks using their preternatural speed. One noticed me and sped over.

“What would you like?” she asked, flashing pointed fangs encrusted with tiny diamonds. Beautiful vamp bartenders were common. They were easy on the eye and worked fast.

“A whiskey sour, please.” I wanted something strong that would dull my sharpened senses quickly.

The drink appeared in front of me in the next five seconds, then the vamp was gone to serve another customer. Damn, she was efficient. The bad thing was that Skews could drink the stuff as fast as she could make it, especially werewolves who could metabolize alcohol almost as if it were water.

Oh, shit!

I stared at my drink with a frown. Were my tipsy days already over? I hadn’t even turned twenty-one yet. Great! I took a gulp of my drink. It burned on the way down and I winced, welcoming the warmth in my chest and stomach. I turned to face the crowd, hoping the drink would kick in soon.

A vamp dressed in a tube dress with strategically torn holes down its length staggered in the direction of the bar and settled herself next to me. She was swaying on her feet, clearly drunk or high. I raised my eyebrows as I examined the dopey expression on her face.

Whatever she was drinking, I needed some of that. A strange sour scent wafted from her. It rivaled my poop perfume. I wrinkled my nose.

The same bartender who had fetched my drink came to her. She frowned at the new customer, obviously displeased. I’d seen that look on bartenders before. This vamp had been tagged as a potential troublemaker and was probably close to losing her bar privileges.

“Another raybow,” she said. “Positive.”

Raybow? Rainbow, maybe? What the hell was that?

The bartender heaved a sigh. “This will be your last one,” she said, then moved away in a blur.

“Um, hi!” I said.

The vamp turned her head in my direction as if in slow motion. She blinked several times, trying to focus. “Do I know you?” she slurred.

“Not yet.” I put my hand out to shake. “I’m Toni Sunder.”

She dropped her chin to her chest as if her head were too heavy and stared down at my hand, but made no attempt to shake. I shrugged it off and pulled my hand back.

“So... what’s a raybow?” I asked.

She gave a goofy laugh, throwing her head back. “It’s the best thing to ever happen. That’s what.”

I watched with interest as the bartender returned with a shot glass filled with a green shimmering liquid. Oh, so it was some sort of magical drink with colors like in a rainbow. Skew mixologists were always coming up with new interesting combinations that sort of worked, though I had never seen anything affect a vampire like this. She was really high.

The vamp went for the glass, missing it on her first attempt, then clutching it tightly and lifting it to her mouth slowly as if afraid to spill even one drop. When it reached her lips, she downed it in one gulp, throwing her head back in ecstasy and letting out a moan like someone reaching a climax.

“Wow, that’s hot,” I said, without thinking.

The bartender huffed. “No, it ain’t. It’s disgusting.”

Surprised at her comment, I turned to look at her but she disappeared again, the whoosh of her rapid retreat rustling my hair.

A moment later the stoned vamp staggered away from the bar, her high heels twisting inwardly with her every ungraceful step. I frowned, my curiosity mounting. A drink that could truly intoxicate vampires, and a bartender who didn’t approve of it.

I stared down at my drink, realizing that it had never kicked in. Not one bit. Damn!

“Well, that’s no fun,” I mumbled, then downed what was left in the glass. The raybow was definitely starting to sound like an option right about now. I raised my hand to get the bartender’s attention.

She came back and offered me a smile. “Another whiskey sour?”

“It’s not doing the trick tonight. How about one of those raybows?”

Her smile dropped immediately. “No can do. They’re only for vamps.”

“Huh?” That was stupid. “How come?”

“Because if you drink one, it will kill you.”

I blinked and stared at her wide-eyed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.” She sped away and a moment later, she was back with another whiskey sour, which she smacked down on the counter. “Raybow’s poison. If you have any vamp friends, tell them not to touch it,” she warned, then sped away once more.

Questions multiplied exponentially inside my head. The party scene was certainly changing. I’d been so busy working that I’d missed it. I had to find out what this was all about. I wondered if Damien knew.

I turned to face the crowd again, my eyes scanning for the white-haired mage, but instead, I spotted the last person I thought I would see here.

Jake Knight.

Chapter 12

JAKE WAS STANDING OFF to the left, reclining against one of the glass walls and talking to a blonde in shoes with pencil-thin heels. She was medium height and athletic, her blond hair falling mid-back like a straight silken sheet. She wore a loud red dress that stopped at the edge of her butt and left her back bare. She was talking animatedly, her hands moving in front of her like erratic birds, while Jake listened with a half-smile. He was holding a beer and taking distracted, small sips. After she said something and laughed, his smile deepened, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jealousy burned me like acid. My hand tightening around my glass, and I carefully set it down on the counter, afraid to break it. My entire body rippled with a shiver. A low rumble built in my chest and images of tufts of blond hair flying across the room filled my vision. I dug my fingernails into my palms and glanced in the opposite direction, trying to calm my agitated breaths.

My chest swelled with anger. The