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

The voice sounded refined and calm. It enunciated every word, pronouncing the syllables with care. Something in the timbre made me think of an older person, someone who had first learned to speak when words carried weight. I knew the Dark Donna had been a vampire for hundreds of years, but that wasn’t the only reason for her arresting voice. Something else made it hard to ignore, an allure that probably had everything to do with her vampire skills and not her ancient ass. I wondered when she’d been bitten and created, if she’d be willing or a victim. Some Stales thought werewolves were created the same way, but that was ridiculous. Werewolves were born, not bitten.

Against my will, I found my feet shuffling toward the car. Bertram opened the door, and before I knew it, I was sitting across from the most stunning creature I’d ever seen in my life. The limousine door slammed shut and the tinted window automatically went up.

Bernadetta Fiore appeared in the newspapers enough, so any self-respecting St. Louis resident had seen her likeness gracing the social column. I’d known of her beauty, but what I’d seen in photographs paled in comparison to real life.

She had jet black hair and skin as smooth as marble. I expected her to be pale, but she had an olive complexion much like mine. Inside the car, her eyes didn’t glow red but appeared perfectly black. Her full mouth sported nude lipstick, and her long lashes fluttered like tranquil butterflies. She wore black leather pants stuffed into boots with four-inch heels, a midnight blue top with a low square neckline, and an honest-to-god cloak pinned together at her throat by an elaborate silver broach encrusted with rubies. She appeared slight and short, maybe five-foot-one, another thing I’d misjudged from the papers. Still, her small body oozed control, calculated judgment, and latent strength.

My heart skipped around like a jackrabbit. I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling as if I could somehow keep it from punching a hole through my ribs and skidding into the limousine’s carpeted floor like a yummy treat for the vampiress. My skin started to itch like crazy, but I refrained from scratching. Damn, I seriously needed to go see a dermatologist, but who has money for that?

I glanced around the limousine’s interior to distract myself. Four massive, cream leather bucket seats—two facing each other—occupied most of the space. Chestnut-colored wood, polished to a shine, accentuated a minibar and a mounted monitor displaying a company logo that read “Fiore Enterprises.”

“I am so sorry to inconvenience you in this manner,” Bernadetta said, inclining her head.

“It’s okay. No problem. I was just going in to get me some pepperoni pizza. Or maybe sausage. I can’t decide. Anyway, I have nothing pressing on my calendar and I...”

Oh, shut up already, Toni.

If the vamp didn’t already have thoughts of slashing my throat and draining me dry, all my rambling would surely give her the idea.

“Good,” she said, illustrating what a verbal wreck I was with her succinctness. A slow smile spread over her Kylie-Jenner lips.

I resisted the urge to say anything else and waited for the Dark Donna to initiate conversation. She’d been the one to seek me out, after all.

“It has come to my attention that you are working with Ulfen Erickson, and I assume it has something to do with his son’s disappearance.”

I hugged my shoulder bag tightly to my stomach. “Um... I... well, you see, I...”

I clenched my lips together, aware of the fact that my verbal wreck had turned into a pileup, one of those that happen on bad snow days. She had kidnapped Ulfen’s son and wanted to know if I’d found out where she was keeping him.

Nope, no ma’am. I didn’t find anything out. You hid him well. That’s what I should’ve said, except for that last part, of course.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. A strangely familiar sweet, warm scent combined with the metallic sharpness of blood filled my head. I’d been so busy trying not to pee my pants that I hadn’t noticed the stomach-churning odor. My poor bladder almost let go as I remembered where I’d sensed something similar.

Oh, crap! My eyes darted toward the door handle. Would I be able to move fast enough to jump out of the car before Bernadetta pinned me to the seat and ate me for lunch? I doubted it. Vampires could move at preternatural speeds. I had never seen one do it, but it was common knowledge.

Bernadetta gave me a raised eyebrow. “I take that as a yes.”

“Yes,” I squeaked. “B-but I didn’t find him.” The last few words rushed out of my mouth like bullets.

The vamp narrowed her eyes. They pierced through me like needles, making me feel bare and unhinged as if my joints had turned to rubber.

“You tell the truth,” she said, not a question but a statement.

“Always, I always tell the truth. It’s like a compulsion, like I can’t help myself. People ask me stuff, and I just tell them everything. Sometimes I think there’s something wrong with me and I—”

Bernadetta’s teeth snapped together once as if saying “enough.” I shut my mouth.

Holy witchlights! What was wrong with me? I’d just told her a big, fat lie as I tried to convince her that I spoke nothing but the truth. Man, could today get any worse?

“Not that it matters what you think,” she said, looking me up and down as if I wasn’t worth the air I breathed, “but I did not kidnap Stephen Erickson. Somebody wants to start a war and it’s not me. I like the way things are.”

Yeah, right. Who was the liar, now? The limousine reeked of that same overpowering scent I’d spotted during my trance.

“Ulfen needs to look elsewhere,” she added, “and he needs to find better trackers.”

Excuse me? That got my hackles up. I’m a damn good tracker. Stephen was the only known mark I’d been unable to find, and only