Page 33 of The Tracker's Revenge

“Um, nothing here either.” He didn’t sound uppity and hostile this time. Instead, he sounded apologetic, ready to do whatever it took to make sure I was admitted. “Let me make a phone call and see what I can do, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Huh?What the hell? He’d sniffed me and done a one-eighty. Was it my new perfume? Rosalina had given it to me, and she had a knack for picking that sort of thing. She said a fragrance had to convey your personality. Maybe it was telling him I was a badass. But who was I kidding? That wasn’t it, and I had no idea what had caused him to change his tune.

The guard explained my presence to whoever he’d reached over the phone. “Yes, sir. I’ll hold.” He pointed at the phone and gave me a downright charming smile. I jutted my hip out.

That’s right, asshole. That’s how you’re supposed to treat people. With decency.

After a short wait, I heard the person over the phone say, “I have confirmed with Mr. Hillworth’s assistant. He says to allow her in. Do check her ID. Her name is Antonietta Sunder.”

Before the guard hung up, I’d pulled out my license and placed it on the counter right under his nose. I forced a smile and cocked my head to one side, waiting for him to verify. He gave it a quick glance and slid it back in my direction.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, I have strict instructions to only allow members in, especially these days. They say it’s because of the unrest. The place has sure been busy with everyone gearing up for what’s to come.”

I put away my ID and allowed my frustration to wash away. Maybe the guy had only been doing his job. Maybe everyone’s tempers were on edge.

“Here you go.” The guard handed me a plastic card with a clip attached to it. “Just wave it at the reader in the turnstile.”

“Thank you. Have a good day.” I waved, my voice pleasant and not in a fake way. I couldn’t expect to be treated with decency if I didn’t do the same.

As I walked toward the turnstile, a guy walked into the building, striding confidently and pulling out a wallet from his back pocket. He was tall and slender, though not in a wiry way. He had shoulder-length dirty blond hair and appeared to be about my age, perhaps a little older. He wore a pair of sweats, a sleeveless shirt, and expensive tennis shoes.

“Morning, Roger.” He gave the guard a military salute and gave me a quick nod of acknowledgement.

“Good morning, Mr. Hillworth.”

I halted in my tracks, tensing all over.Mr. Hillworth?What relation was he to Travis? My heart quickened.

He stopped a few paces from the turnstile and said, “Ladies first.”

“Um, thank you.” I waved the card over the security device and hurried toward the elevators as the arm lifted out of the way.

He followed behind me and pressed the up arrow—the only one available—while I read the directory attached to the wall. There were three floors, which seemed to be filled with offices and conference rooms. Before I could figure out where to go, the guy spoke.

“Where are you headed?”

“Um, the training facility,” I said, glancing at him sideways, trying to find any resemblance between him and my biological father. But this guy was blond and not as tall as Travis.

“Oh, we’re headed to the same place.” He smiled. “It’s on the third floor. The rest of the building is mostly offices and such.”

“Thank you.”

The elevator doors dinged and slid open. We stepped in, and he pressed thethreebutton.

“I’ve never seen you around,” he said, inhaling, taking in my scent. “My name is Marcus Hillworth.”

“I’m Antonietta Sunder, but everyone calls me Toni.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Unable to help myself, I said, “Any relation to Travis Hillworth?”

“Yeah, he’s my dad.”

I almost thumped on my chest to stop myself from choking. This guy was my half-brother.

Shit! Shit shit shit.

Suddenly, the elevator turned claustrophobic, and I was on the verge of attacking the metal doors to make my way out of there. It wouldn’t matter if I had to jump down the elevator shaft, but I would get out.