Page 39 of The Tracker's Dawn: Sunderverse

He shrugged. “I doubt it.”

Gah, such a male!

“I killed a fucking vampire and a hybrid.” I reached my hands toward him, wiggling my fingers.

He took a step back. “On second thought. Hmm,” he considered for a moment, “you do glow when you channel your tracker skills, right?”

“Yeah, so I guess we will know if it’s working when I do my Christmas tree impersonation.”

He nodded and gestured with a hand, inviting me to start.

I took a deep breath, shook my arms, and closed my eyes. Focusing, I thought of that shimmering limbo where I went after taking a tracking potion. Nothing came. The back of my eyelids just glowed orange with the overhead lights.

“Take deep breaths,” Eric said, his voice low and suggestive.

I did as he said, focusing on the way my chest rose and fell, imagining particles of air filling my lungs.

The world around me went dark, and slowly, tiny glimmers appeared in the black expanse. For a few beats, I let my mind settle, trying to become familiar with the feeling to make sure I’d be able to recall it. Once I had it, I invited in the shameful memories of my past. They came one by one, then all at once. So many of them that I couldn’t have named them if my life depended on it.

My heart started beating out of control, pounding against my ribs like fist blows. Fear rippled through me as I imagined myself stuck in here like the last time, the time I’d been trying to track the Midnight Witch’s supposed mate.

I broke my focus. My eyes sprang open, and I staggered forward. Eric made as if to steady him, but I waved him off.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“I don’t think that worked.”

“No shit.”

I tried again. The second time, the fear returned, so I attempted to release all my sensory memories at once.

“Did it work?” I asked, eyes shooting open.

Eric twisted his mouth to one side. “There was no glow, so I don’t think so.”

I flexed my fingers. They felt restless and tight at the tips. “It’s like I need to sink my claws into something.”

Without a word, he ran upstairs and returned with a few cushions from his many sofas. “Try with these.”

I did. In fact, I shredded the poor things to bits, but nothing worked. After about twenty tries, I sank to the floor and sat cross-legged. “This is useless.”

“It’s only our first try. We’ll figure something out. We always do.”

Pushing away my frustration, I jumped to my feet. He was right. We would figure it out. “How about we do some regular training?”

His answer was to shift, and for the next hour, we ran in the woods behind his house and did wolf things.