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

during confession that require stern advice and warnings. Sometimes the things I hear are a burden on me, but I have to trust in God and his plan. So I listen, advise the best I can, and leave the rest in God’s hands.”

Dammit, he’s not making this easier.

He shifted to face me. “It sort of feels this choice is a burden on you as well. Why is that?”

I decided to put all the cards on the table, so he could lay it on me a bit thicker. “Because I stand to gain something from it.”

“Ahhh, a moral dilemma, truly.”

“You got that right.”

“Well, child,” he gave me those gentle puppy eyes again, making me feel terrible, “this speaks to the strength of your character. Most people wouldn’t hesitate to put themselves first.”

Oh, hell. I sighed, my mind made up. I couldn’t do this to him. I just couldn’t. For some stupid reason, tears pooled in my eyes. I swallowed hard and blinked rapidly.

“It’ll be okay.” He patted my hand, which rested on the bench.

“I know.” I sniffled, feeling proud of myself for holding back the tears. “Thanks for your help.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“You did.” I picked up my bag from the ground, stood, and slung it over my shoulder. “It was great meeting you, father.”

“You can call me Vincent.” He stood and put out a hand.

I shook it, feeling better as the decision settled and I accepted it. Rosalina and I would find another way to keep the agency afloat without wrecking anyone’s life, especially this man’s. I turned to leave, then stopped, a thought striking me.

“Um, are you busy right now?”

He hooked a thumb toward the church steps. “I was sweeping.” He gave me a charming smile that would make any woman wish he would give up God and go rogue.

“There’s a friend of mine. He’s in the hospital. I know it would mean a great deal to him if you came to see him and... talk to him.” My voice broke. Tom was Catholic, and maybe Vincent could give him the strength to power toward recovery. Surely they had priests at the hospital, but none as special as Vincent. I was sure.

Damn, if the tears weren’t making a comeback. Too much was going on, and my emotions were a complete wreck. I had to give myself credit, though. At least, I wasn’t hiding under my bed counting dust bunnies.

“It would be my honor to visit your friend,” Vincent said. “Were you going there now?”

I nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

Chapter 27

By the time Vincent and I left the hospital, it was past lunchtime. They hadn’t let me go in to see the detective, but they’d allowed Vincent since he had credentials for such things. I sat in the waiting area, fiddling with my bag strap until he came out. He reassured me that, even though Tom was in critical condition, he had seemed like the kind of man who didn’t give up, and he had a feeling the detective would be all right.

I thanked him for taking the time out of his day to visit my friend.

“It was nothing. I’ll make sure to visit him every day,” Vincent had said as I dropped him off by the Basilica.

After that, I drove around for a bit to clear my head and find a place for lunch. My stomach was queasy, but I knew if I didn’t eat, I would get a major headache and wouldn’t feel like going back to the office to deal with the fallout of my oh-so-selfless decision.

I was feeling down in the dumps, so I decided to treat myself to Pizza-A-Go-Go, a great place that had been in business since the 60s and served New York-style pizza, cash only.

Their tiny parking lot was packed, so I parked a block down and started walking toward the restaurant. I’d almost gotten there when a black car with tinted windows pulled up next to me. It caught my attention because, as it appeared in my peripheral vision, the damn thing kept going and going and going until it stopped. A limousine.

Damn, that thing is long.

I wondered if the occupant needed to compensate for something. Snickering, I continued on my way, trying to decide whether I wanted pepperoni or sausage.

The driver got out of the limousine. He wore a black suit and looked as thick as a bouncer from an exclusive nightclub. He had dark brown eyes, pale skin, a shaved head, and a well-trimmed goatee. I thought he would open the door to let the limousine passengers out, but instead, he walked up to me, making eye contact. Reflexively, I came to an abrupt stop and glanced all around, feeling threatened.

He stopped a few paces away and respectfully inclined his head. “Good afternoon, Ms. Sunder. My name is Bertram, and my mistress would like to talk to you.” He had a deep voice with a vague German accent.

“Your mistress?”

“Yes, Bernadetta Fiore, I’m sure you’ve heard of her.”

Oh, shit.

Now, my eyeballs really started shifting all around, searching for an escape. My palms began to sweat, and my heart climbed into my throat. She had sent two people to kidnap me, and they’d failed. Had she decided to take matters into her own hands?

“I... I’m afraid I have nothing to discuss with your mistress.” I sidestepped, trying to walk around the driver. He sidestepped, too, blocking my path.

“She insists.” Bertram gave me a cold smile that made it clear he and his mistress wouldn’t take no for an answer.

I opened my mouth maybe to scream, I wasn’t sure, but the limousine’s back window slid open with a hiss and a pair of slightly glowing red eyes peered at me from the dark interior, and all I could do was stare.

“Ms. Sunder,” a deep feminine voice said from inside, “I would come out and introduce myself, but the sun makes it impossible. Would you mind stepping in to talk to me for a moment? I promise it won’t take