She’d been getting ready for bed but didn’t think she could sleep until she’d seen what Kip had put in his online log notes about tonight’s capture. In his last few reports, he hadn’t mentioned anything about her inability to track, but it was the third night in a row things had gone badly. First the alley with the human witness, then the nightclub, now tonight in the SoHo district. Recalling the look on Kip’s face a short time ago when she’d passed him the car keys again, she knew she couldn’t keep up the charade much longer.
Would anyone take note of the large chunk of time that had passed between when the original call came in and when the capture team was dispatched? She’d take a look at the capture team’s report as well in order to prepare herself for possible repercussions. Better to know now than to be blindsided later. And then she supposed she’d have to discuss her waning abilities with Santiago—if that’s what was really wrong with her.
She got to the security checkpoint and smiled at Francesca, who was sitting on the other side of a glass partition. The young woman looked up from her crossword puzzle and her face brightened.
“Forgot to tell you, but I finished that book you loaned me last week,” Francesca said. “Loved it.”
Lily smiled and placed her thumb on the reader. They often traded books, but with everything on her mind lately, she couldn’t remember which one she’d loaned her. “Awesome, that’s great,” she said generically.
Three tones sounded. She removed her thumb, inserted her key card into the slot, and Francesca buzzed her in.
“Got any free time?” Francesca tucked a pencil behind her ear. “It’d be fun to get together and discuss it. Someone told me about a new coffee shop nearby that caters to book lovers. Maybe we could check it out.”
“I’d love to, but I’m booked solid. Heading up to see Zoe and the fam. Can you wait till I get back?” Maybe by then she’d feel back to normal, and she could concentrate on something other than her problems.
“Yeah, sure.”
She waved to her friend, tucked the lanyard back inside her zip-up hoodie and strode down the hallway, apprehension growing with each step.
She didn’t want to speculate about what might be going on if her lack of abilities couldn’t be explained by a simple sinus virus. But then, what kind of virus lasted for this long and kept getting worse? Being a Tracker was much more than just a job. It meant that for the first time, she’d been respected for her talents and her brain, and not because she was Henry DeGraff’s daughter or because she looked good in a miniskirt. Sought after by other field offices, she’d located vampires and humans that no one else could track. But if she couldn’t get rid of that muddy scent clouding her ability to delineate smells—much like a filmy cataract lens obstructing one’s vision—she’d be worthless as a Tracker.
Which basically made her … worthless.
She poked her head into the gym and looked around. On the far side of the huge room, just past the juice bar, Cordell Kincade worked out on one of the rowing machines. Okay, perfect, she thought as she headed toward him. Since she only had access to the Tracker system, she’d get him to pull up the capture report, then she’d check out what was on the official record. If she was lucky, the long time-gap wouldn’t be noted and Kip’s report wouldn’t mention anything out of the ordinary. She’d be able to relax for now, and head up to British Columbia this evening. Maybe that and a few nights off were all she needed to get back on track. She was eager to see her daughter again.
She smiled at how far she’d come since finding out she was going to be a mother. At first, she’d been horrified. Hooking up with a player like Steven had only been meant as a fun distraction. It wasn’t supposed to get her pregnant. Not to mention that her job as a Tracker, with its unpredictable schedule and the frequent travel it required, was extremely demanding and very important to her. How could she possibly do that and be a mother as well?
God knew her parents had been excited about her pregnancy, even if Steven hadn’t, and they offered to do anything they could to help. But when she’d held Zoe for the first time and seen her chubby face, none of that had mattered any longer. She’d vowed to figure out a way to work as a Tracker, with or without Steven. As the mother to the most beautiful child on the planet, she was determined to make a good life for both of them.
“Hey, Cordell, when you’re done, can you get me into TechTran? I want to take a look at the capture reports from a few assignments.”
“You bet. Give me … a minute.” Eyes forward, concentrating on his workout, he spoke only when he exhaled as the seat slid backwards. “Last night’s report?”
“Yeah, that and a few others.”
His gaze flickered in her direction but he kept rowing. “You think … they entered … it yet?”
Damn. He did have a point. She’d already filed her activity summary, but had everyone else? Trying to act casual, she shrugged, but the knots in her shoulders tightened anyway. “Hadn’t thought about it.”
A few minutes later in the computer lab, with a white gym towel around his neck, Cordell pulled up the TechTran system as Lily leaned over his shoulder. She held her breath while he scrolled through the various field divisions, finally clicking on the capture team button.
“Nope.” he said, pushing back in his chair. “Nothing for last night yet. Protocol may dictate everyone file timely reports, Lil, but you’re one of the few around here who actually does it.”
She exhaled slowly, unsure whether she should be relieved or not. Maybe it wasn’t all bad, she reasoned. The longer they waited to submit the summary, the less detailed it was likely to be. But she’d still need to keep checking, which meant involving Cordell each time. Unless it was filed today, she probably shouldn’t head north tonight. Her heart weighed heavily in her chest at the thought of not seeing Zoe. With her piano recital coming up, Lily’s daughter had been practicing daily and was eager to play for her mom.
A shitty Tracker and a shitty mother. What a combination.
“Hey … you mind if I log into my account?”
“Knock yourself out. I’m hitting the showers.”
She waited until he’d left before she clicked into the Tracker section. That’s funny. She double-checked that she was on the correct page, but she was. All of Kip’s other reports were there. Neat, organized, just the way she’d taught him. The only one missing was last night’s. Surely he wasn’t slacking off already, was he? Was she the only one around here concerned about the rules?
Irritated now, she logged off and exited the computer lab. Kip had obviously been hanging around Jackson too long. His poor habits had rubbed off onto her very conscientious trainee. She ground her teeth together. All the screwups in the office seemed to revolve around Jackson. Well, things were about to change.
A fresh, vaguely familiar scent caught her attention when she stepped into the hallway. She inhaled, couldn’t quite separate it from the muddiness, and that too-familiar swell of panic gripped her stomach again. In an enclosed environment like this—undisturbed by the elements—a scent should be easy to identify.
Knowing that smell was closely associated with memory, she closed her eyes and pressed both hands on the top of the foyer table, careful not to lean in too close and get speared by one of the pointy orange flowers that looked like a crane’s head.
She took a deep breath and held it for a moment, focusing inward on the mental images and emotions stirring in her mind as she tried to pry loose the scent memory.
Apprehension. Disrespect. Inadequacy.
Then it dawned on her. Of course. Gibson’s here. I should’ve known. He’d assumed she’d gotten the job as a