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

stay in the shadows. When the shop finally came into view, I drew back into a narrow alley, though not before sending a wary glance past a dumpster and a tall stack of discarded wooden crates. The pungent smell of garbage rode the air, rotten fruit with a hint of dead rat. I wrinkled my nose.

Very smart, Toni, hiding in a dark, stinky alley. Just the way to avoid ever becoming a grandma.

The alley appeared empty though, so I huddled against the wall and peered across the street. The repair shop consisted of an uncovered garage with a massive metal door, razor wire atop each brick wall, and a small office space to the right. Eyes roving around, I tried to spot signs of life but saw nothing, not even Jake and his motorcycle. Had Walter sent me on a wild goose chase? I got the sensation that he hadn’t liked me very much, so maybe this was an attempt to get me mugged and murdered and out of his grandson’s life.

I shook my head at the irrational thought. Really?! Where had that come from? I barely knew the man, and I’d already tagged him as a creepo? He had been nothing but nice.

I was considering whether or not to casually approach the repair shop when a heavy hand wrapped around my mouth, and I was yanked deep into the alley. I kicked and squirmed, trying to get free, but whoever had me was too strong.

“What do we have here?” A deep, accented voice asked close to my ear.

I shuddered, trying to place the voice, but it was the warm, sweet scent that triggered my memories first. Beeswax with a metallic tang of blood, the same scent I’d caught in Bernadetta’s limousine.

The voice belonged to Bertram. The vamp’s driver. Oh, God, if he was here, it meant Stephen’s location had truly been compromised, and his captors knew it. This couldn’t be good.

The vampire flipped me and pressed my back against the wall, his dark eyes piercing mine with a powerful compulsion that ordered me not to scream.

I tried to cry out for help, but the words crowded in my throat.

“Ms. Sunder,” he said in his vaguely German accent. “This is no place for the likes of you. I advise you to leave.”

To my surprise, he released me, and before I knew it, he disappeared in a blur of movement that rustled my hair. I stayed against the wall, my heart thundering like an approaching storm. A loud crash reverberated down the street. I didn’t move for a full minute. When I finally felt confident that I wasn’t going to wet my panties, I peered toward the repair shop again. The door to the office was busted, and Bertram nowhere to be seen.

Not that I was complaining, but why had he let me off with a simple warning? This didn’t make any sense. Still, the relief that washed over me seemed like a second chance at life. For a moment there, I’d thought I was done for.

Suddenly assaulted by a fit of sensibility, I decided to leave the premises. I started to walk from the alley, when, across the street, I spotted Jake slinking along the pitch of the roof. Oh, no! Heart drumming, I pressed a hand to my mouth to resist the urge to call out a warning that would give away his location. Crouching, he drew closer, peered down into the open garage area, then leaped inside, disappearing out of sight.

Holy crap! Bertram was in the shop. Jake was in the shop. This was bad!

I couldn’t leave now. I reached inside my purse, feeling for the gun. My hand squeezed around the handle.

You’re trained to use it. You’re not defenseless.

Regular bullets wouldn’t stop a vampire, but I could buy Jake some time if he got in a bind and needed to escape.

Nope. Nope. Don’t be stupid. Get the hell out of here, a sensible voice called inside my head. But that sensible voice mattered very little when it came to Jake. That sensible voice could go take a hike down Shit Street. No way I could not help Jake. Being honest, even after all that had happened, I would give my life for him. Yep, that was the kind of loyal idiot I tended to be. So...

Screw it. Here goes nothing.

I pulled the gun out, hid my purse behind the dumpster, and crossed the street.

Chapter 34

Slinking like a thief, I crept to the repair shop and pressed my back to the wall next to the busted door. My heart and my senses kicked into hyper-mode, overwhelming me with an intensity I’d never experienced. The scent of grease and gasoline were pungent enough to mask everything else, dizzying me. Over the pounding of my heart, I thought I heard someone’s breathing and soft padding steps, but that was impossible. No one was in sight, and my ears weren’t that sensitive. It had to be my imagination. That or the adrenaline coursing through my body was the best I’d ever produced, and it could probably auction for millions on the black market.

Focus. Quit messing around, Toni.

I squeezed my eyes shut, doing my best to push aside the sensory overload. Slowly, I took a knee on the sidewalk and peered inside the office. Darkness greeted me. As my eyes adapted, I made out the silhouettes of furniture: a desk, a file cabinet, shelves on the walls. I squinted, trying to spot movement. I didn’t notice any.

In the back of the room, another busted door lay on the floor.

Damn! Bertram was like a steamroller.

Staying low, I walked into the room, gun at the ready. I crept in with the moonlight behind me. A bead of sweat trailed down my back as I slid along the wall, inching toward the other door. A long corridor stretched from there, flanked by shelves on the right and windows on the left. Moonlight bathed the shelves, revealing boxes of automotive parts.