Page 27 of The Tracker's Secret

Rosalina hooked her arm in mine and led me out of there in a hurry. When we made it outside, I blinked at the sunlight, disoriented. The clouds had parted.

We got in my Camaro, and I placed my potion securely between my legs. I started the engine and as it rumbled to life, I asked, “What is wrong with you? Why would you agree to go out with him?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go to that party alone,” she answered, her tone righteous and protective.

Yet, I knew there was more to it than that. She liked Damien Ward and was excited to go out on a date with him.

Chapter 10

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WHEN WE GOT TO THEagency later that morning, I rushed into the potions alcove with my poop perfume and applied it generously to my neck, wrists, crook of my elbows, and behind my knees. The stench that rose from the jar made me gag a few times, but I managed to hold on to my breakfast. When I was done, I capped the jar, sure I would end up smelling like a freaking sewer, but after a few minutes of wincing and heaving, the awful smell passed.

I exhaled in relief, walked back out, and stood right behind Rosalina’s chair as she typed an email on her laptop. After a few beats, she glanced over her shoulder.

“What?” she asked.

I shrugged one shoulder.

Her nose twitched. “God, you smell good. Do you think moonfable could harm a Stale? I wouldn’t mind if you shared some with me.”

She had a thing for all beauty products and implements, but this went beyond her preening passion. She was out of her mind.

“Trust me, if you got a whiff of how that stuff really smells, you wouldn’t be asking.”

She was about to reply when her eyes drifted to the front door. I glanced in that direction just as the door opened and chimed.

Daniella and Lucia—my older and younger sisters—walked in, which could only mean one thing: Mom had told them the truth about me. My first impulse was to run up to the loft and hide under the bed. I wasn’t ready to face them or the fact that the bond between us was lesser than we’d imagined.

I wasn’t even a Sunder.

That half of me had been stolen, leaving behind a huge question mark.

A lump formed in my throat and tears burned at the corners of my eyes.

“Hey, Toni,” Daniella said.