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

“I wanted to check on you, Jakie,” she said, adding the nickname with an edge of mean amusement in her voice. “Your grandfather told me what happened, and I was worried.”

Jake smiled stiffly. “No reason to worry. I’m doing all right, but thank you. Maybe you two can wait for me in the kitchen while I finish here.”

The chicken-shit part of me wanted to say that I could come back later, but Red decided I wasn’t going anywhere. I was staying put.

“Where are your manners, Jake?” Walter said with a friendliness that hadn’t been there before. “Aren’t you going to introduce your fiancée to Ms. Sunder?”

Jake choked. I choked. Even Allison seemed to wince at the word “fiancée.”

“Never mind, I’ll do it.” Walter waved a hand in the air. “Ms. Sunder, this is Allison Blackridge.”

I stood up slowly, her last name ringing in my ears like doomsday bells.

Blackridge. Blackridge. Blackridge.

My expression hardened in unison with my heart.

“Blackridge?” I said with a smile that Red quickly procured from the coldest part of my soul. “As in the Blackridge pack?”

“The very same one,” Walter said, showing all his teeth like a damn skeleton.

A chill rippled down my spine, turning me to ice.

“I know someone from your pack,” I said, my voice a distant echo. “DJ Slice, Aaron Blackridge, I worked with him recently.”

“Oh, yes, you’re the tracker who found that... vampire for him, right?” She pronounced the word “vampire” as if she were saying “garbage.”

“The very same,” I replied, holding my chin high. “Anyway, it seems congratulations are in order.” I turned to Jake and met his gaze.

He looked pissed. Really pissed. His silver eyes were as cold and distant as I felt. When he peered at me, regret flashed across his features.

Some part of me expected him to deny his engagement, but instead, he stood silent. Rage and hatred filled my gut, brewing quickly into a toxic mixture.

“Well,” I said, my voice charged with contempt, “I’m glad you’re doing all right. I should leave you to rest and to your fiancée.” I hurried out of the room, doing my best to ignore Walter’s satisfied smile as I walked past.

Hand shaking, I was reaching for the front door to open it when Jake dashed out of the sitting room.

“Toni, wait!”

I stopped, my attention fixed on the door handle.

He came close and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I... I was going to tell you,” he whispered. “I just never seemed to find the right moment.”

I shrugged his hand away. “You don’t owe me any explanations anymore. You made yourself clear before.”

“Please, you know I wish it could be different.”

“Do you?” If he really did wish for that, then I could tell him.

“Of course, I do.”

I turned and searched his face, looking for the truth.

“But I promised my father,” he added.

Tears burned in the back of my eyes as I asked, “Does it have to be her?”

“The match is important for the pack, for its future and that of the Knight legacy. It’s my duty.”

No. I couldn’t tell him. I had nothing to offer him. Walter and his pack would laugh in my face. I was inexperienced, an outsider without a pack.

Red felt the pain of Jake’s rejection as well as I did, but she shook it off and replaced it with cutting indifference. Drawing strength from her, I held my chin high.

“I wish you the best, Jake,” I said, then walked out of his life for good.

Chapter 33

WHEN I GOT HOME, ROSALINA was still in bed.

Glad to have time to process everything on my own, I climbed back into bed and curled up around a pillow, hugging it tightly to my chest. I cried and raged, the two emotions ebbing and flowing, taking turns at driving me mad.

Time passed.

I slept. I awoke. I lost track of myself.

Pressure built around my brain, squeezing it tightly. A strange feeling spread all over me, and I shuddered.

Then the pounding began.

It hammered insistently against my temples, making me feel disoriented like there was somewhere I had to be, or something I had to say.

I tried to shrink away from it, to forget it was there, but the volume continued increasing. When my head felt as if it would explode, the pounding changed, becoming a distinct staccato of hammer blows like a maddening Morse code bent on driving me to insanity.

“STOP!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

The pummeling halted for a moment, then it picked up again, growing more intense and precise, like a distant sound that, with proximity, grows clearer. Slowly, the blows gained a certain cadence and progression.

They repeated over and over, like tired messages on repeat.

“I can’t understand!” I said. “Leave me alone.”

The sharp sounds persisted, though their volume diminished, allowing me to focus a little better.

“What is it, Blake? Tell me. Who else is responsible for this?”

I was back in the warehouse, kneeling by the man’s twisting shape as he agonized on the floor. His foamy mouth opened and closed. Gurgles came out. His wide eyes were fixed on mine, practically screaming a message.

The pressure in my head mounted.

“You’re doing this,” I spat, holding my head and squeezing it tightly. “Stop it!”

Blake’s bloodshot eyes drilled into mine, holding me in place.

His message pounded inside my head. Again and again. I couldn’t hide from it. I’d tried, but he’d captured me in his gaze and I couldn’t break free. There was only one way.

I had to fight my way out of this nightmare.

My claws unsheathed. A thick, blinding fog rose around me. Panic seized me. I whirled, trying to find an exit. Blake’s message still pounded, threatening to shatter my entire being.

Growling, I slashed with my claws, tearing at the fog. But it wasn’t fog. My claws caught in it, and as I raked downward. Fabric tore, tangling in my fingers. My arms wind-milled desperately as I tried to get free from it. At last, it fell away,