Page 63 of The Tracker's Rage

“I’m fine,” I lied, taking a deep breath as I tried to convince myself that the club was not spinning on its axis.

“You can’t be drunk,” he said, sounding a bit suspicious.

“Oh, no. It’s not that. I’m... it’s just I’m still experiencing some... side effects from the spell.”

“Damn, that sucks.”

“It does.”

I laid a hand over my eyes and breathed deeply, willing the after images of my vision to go away. The colors blended into each other as if some psychedelic artist was using my mind as a canvas and was bent on blinding me with every known hue in the universe.

“Toni, what happened?” Jake had arrived, but I couldn’t look at him, so I kept my hand over my eyes.

“She says it’s the side effects from the spell,” Stephen offered. “She just started to fall. I caught her just in time.”

Jake had the sense not to ask what side effects and played along. “How bad is it this time, Toni?”

I held my free hand up in a “wait a minute” gesture and said nothing. I was afraid that if I spoke I would throw up, and it would be as nasty as all the merging colors inside my head. Rainbow puke at its best.

Slowly, the colors fell away, and when they were all gone, a single image remained.

It was a symbol etched in rough black lines, depicting a triangular shape with what looked like a knife or dagger inside of it. The weapon pierced the bottom of the triangle and was tipped by what might be an upside down cross.

I blinked my eyes open and stared straight into Jake’s silver gaze. His face was pinched in concern, his full lips pursed in concentration as if he were willing me to be better at once. I gave him a nod and a quick smile, then turned my attention to Stephen who was still squatting in front of me, his hand resting on my knee.

I squeezed his fingers. “I’m better now. Thank you. I’m sorry for...” I waved my hand about.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I just hope you’re okay.”

“I am. It’s the—”

A loud bang and screams suddenly erupted at the front of the club. Stephen jumped to his feet and whirled around. Jake was already facing the other direction, standing at a slight crouch. The DJ and the performers froze as clubgoers suddenly stampeded toward the back of the building, trampling each other.

I rose from the booth, my eyes darting all around, searching for the cause of the panic. My gaze zeroed in on a pale figure grabbing a woman by the neck and tearing into her throat. Behind him, others rushed in, indiscriminately attacking patrons.

An army of vampires on a killing spree had invaded The Chained Wolf.