The Tracker's Mate: Sunderverse (Mate Tracker Book 1) by Ingrid Seymour (an ebook reader TXT) 📗

The back of my head hit with a thunk, and stars exploded in my vision. I collapsed to the floor like a puppet. Something heavy fell on top of me. Heat enveloped me, making me feel as if my skin would peel off and melt away into a puddle. My ears rang.

Cries of pain filled the air. I shifted, sending a stab of agony down my spine. I pushed at whatever was on top of me. A person. Jake. I could tell by his unmistakable scent.

I touched something wet and thick. I struggled to open my eyes against the heat. I barely managed. Jake was unconscious.

Everything around us was destruction. A twisted chair lay on top of Jake. I pushed it off with some effort. It rolled out of the way with a clank. Above us, ceiling tiles hung loose, exposing thick pipes and short-circuiting cables torn by the explosion. Light flickered.

Someone lay on their stomach a few feet away, the police woman who’d been talking to Jake. Her clothes were scorched, and a ragged hole oozed blood on her side. I clenched my eyes shut and pushed Jake off me, halfway wiggling from under his heavy frame.

The back of my head and spine screamed in pain, but as I assessed myself, I found no other injuries. Jake, on the other hand. My stomach did a flip at the sight of his back. I pressed a hand to my mouth. His aviator jacket and T-shirt were riddled with holes, and so was his back. He looked as if he’d been hit with a shotgun. There was a bigger wound in his right hamstring. Blood dribbled from it, rapidly staining his jeans crimson. God, he had taken the brunt of the explosion, which had saved my life.

With his werewolf powers, he would heal but not if he didn’t get medical attention. Now!

I glanced around at all the chaos, the bodies. A numb stupor threatened to take hold of me. I tore my eyes away from the destruction and forced myself to focus on Jake.

“Hey.” I caressed the side of his face. “Jake, wake up.”

My throat felt raw. I winced as the heat that blazed by the front desk flared up, igniting the ceiling.

“Jake!” I shook him.

He moaned and blinked his eyes open.

Oh, thank God. “We have to get out of here. C’mon, help me.”

I rolled him over onto his back. He gritted his teeth in pain and growled.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I repeated nonsensically.

Hooking my hands under his armpits, I tried pulling him to a sitting position, but he was too heavy. His boots slipped on a fallen ceiling tile as he attempted to help me. I tried harder, leaning into him, my cheek pressed to his.

“C’mon, you can get up,” I whispered in his ear. “You can do it.”

He bent his knees and pushed up. I pushed, too, helping him get close to the wall for support.

“Freeman,” Jake rasped.

“I know.” My heart twisted, hoping against all hope that Tom was all right. “First, let’s get you out of here.”

I coughed and closed my eyes against the acrid smoke. We started walking, Jake’s arm across my shoulders. My back throbbed with the added weight. The fire behind us flared higher. I felt it on my back, like a giant rake trying to strip me down to the bone. The smell of burning hair pierced through my senses.

The exit sign glowed on the wall along with a flashing emergency light. Charred furniture blocked the door, which seemed miles away. We would never make it. Jake lost his footing, and we staggered forward and fell.

“Crawl,” I said, but I knew it was useless. He could barely move.

He gave me a push. “Get out of here, Toni.”

“No, I won’t leave you.”

The ceiling tiles above us crackled as they burned. My eyelids fluttered, then closed. My chest moved shallowly. I rested my head on the floor and coughed weakly. This was it.

Crap, I hadn’t even started helping, and it had all gone to shit already. No good deed goes unpunished—not even ones that hadn’t begun yet.

The front door burst open. Flames whooshed towards it. Jake and I huddled close together as they licked the air above us. I covered my face with both hands. My exposed skin sizzled, and I moaned in pain.

Firefighters rushed in, pulling at a hose and spraying water. Two men wearing masks rushed in and pulled us out, our feet dragging behind us. I was out first, then Jake. Others came to help. They grabbed our feet, lifted us off the ground, and deposited us across the street on a patch of grass.

Paramedics rushed to us, pressed oxygen masks to our faces. Healers moved their hands over our bodies, and the pain subsided a little.

I lifted a hand towards the burning building. “The others,” I mumbled behind the mask.

“We’ll help them, honey,” the paramedic said. “You did good. You did good. Now just breathe.”

As if I’d just woken up from a tracking trance, everything before me turned dark, and I couldn’t hear or see anything anymore.

Chapter 17

I wanted to know who the hell had taken my clothes off and left me in a hospital gown with a huge slit down my ass. Really? Wasn’t it enough to have burned half to death but they also had to strip me of my dignity and undies in the process? At least my phone and car keys had survived and sat on the night table.

Standing next to a tall bed with railings, I fumbled with the strings behind my back, trying to tie them in a way that would cover both butt cheeks. I needed to get out of this sterile room and find Jake and Tom and... all those officers who had been busy at work, the woman Jake had been talking to.

My hands trembled. I couldn’t tie a simple knot. I growled in frustration and stared at my fingers. They looked different, covered in newly