The Tracker's Rage (Mate Tracker #3) - Ingrid Seymour Page 0,19

slowly retreating out of the office. “I wish things were different. I came to apologize for not telling you about the engagement. It happened quickly and I didn’t have a chance. I didn’t want you to find out the way you did. I wanted to tell you myself.” He chuckled sadly and gestured toward his office. “Perhaps, I should move out, after all. It’s not wise for me to have my office so close to yours. Maybe, you would like to expand, knock down a few walls and take over the place. I’m nearly done with all the repairs.”

“Get out of here, Jake. There’s no room for such niceties between us.”

He hung his head, sadness weighing him down. “If you ever need me...”

I was about to tell him to go to hell, when the front door chimed open and steps rushed in. Jake glanced over, his expression turning to worry.

“What’s the matter?” he asked as he moved out of the way and Rosalina rushed into my office.

My heart started pounding at the sight of her panicked expression. She held her cell phone and stared at it for a moment before she managed to say a word.

“Dani just called. She couldn’t reach you.”

I looked at my phone, which lay face down on the desk. I had turned it off so I could explain everything to Jake without interruption. My legs turned rubbery. For my oldest sister to have called Rosalina something really bad must’ve happened.

“Is she all right?”

Rosalina nodded. “Dani is fine. It’s your mother. She’s been attacked.”

Chapter 9

The Camaro’s tires screeched as I turned into an open parking spot in front of St. Mary’s Hospital. I jumped out of the car and headed toward the front door at full pelt. I ignored Jake as he parked his motorcycle next to my car. He’d wanted to ride with me, but I pushed him away as soon as Rosalina told me where to find my mother. I didn’t want him here, but he seemed bent on inserting himself into the situation regardless of my wishes. He was a thorn —no a stake—in my side, and I was a masochist.

I followed the signs toward the emergency room, dodging people as I ran down the brightly lit corridor. In the waiting area, my eyes immediately homed in on my sisters. Dani and Lucia were sitting next to each other, staring at the floor, their faces etched with concern.

Lucia sensed me first and glanced up. I ran toward her, and she jumped to her feet and wrapped me in a tight hug. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. The last time I’d seen my mother I’d been so mean to her, so inflexible and unforgiving, and now...

God, please let her be all right.

I pushed my baby sister to arm’s length. “How is she?”

Lucia was unable to answer and glanced at Dani, who seemed in better control of her emotions.

“She’ll be fine,” Dani said, her tone reassuring, professional, as if she were speaking about one of her own patients.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I know one of the doctors, and I talked to her before they took Mom to the operating room. She said Mom will be okay.”

The big pressure that had built and built in my chest on my way here released a little, and suddenly I could breathe much more easily.

Dani’s and Lucia’s gazes drifted over my shoulder, and without glancing back, I knew Jake was there. His scent and presence felt like a north to my adrift life. I resisted the urge to whirl around and tell him to leave. I needed to sever our bond once and for all, but how?

Doing my best to ignore him, I took a deep breath and asked my next question. “What happened?”

This time it was Dani’s turn to defer to Lucia.

“I was late for school,” my little sister said, “and Mom was going to drive me there. We were leaving the house when this huge black wolf came out of nowhere.”

My heart stopped as she spoke and related everything that had happened. Jake moved closer and stood next to me, his full attention on my sister.

“I saw the wolf in time,” Lucia continued, “and told Mom to run. I hurled my backpack at it and turned tail after Mom. It all happened so fast. She was slow, and the wolf was coming. I used my powers to hurl a couple of Mom’s potted plants backwards. You know the ones she keeps on the porch, but I did it