by Kelly Hall
They reached the stairs, and Canter stopped to let her go first. “I’m sure she’s only that way because she cares.”
“I’m sorry. I guess you think I’m a real brat for complaining about my mother.” She knew he was a ward of the Church, and his mother and father had abandoned him. Grady had told her that. His parents had found out when he’d told them Canter had a better record than him. Since then, Grady had it in his head that Canter had some kind of advantage.
As she popped the last bite of the warm cookie into her mouth, she wondered if that was true.
Canter shrugged. “Nah, everyone has problems with their parents, I guess.”
She glanced over her shoulder and caught him watching her ass. She hid her smile and pretended not to notice. When they came to his room, he opened the door, and Jarreth quickly pulled himself away from Delilah.
“Hey,” she said, straightening her top. “Back so soon?”
Jarreth pulled a pillow onto his lap and turned his attention back to the video game which they had paused. “Did you score?” he asked.
Katie laughed. “The question is, did you?” She looked at Delilah. “I thought you two weren’t seeing each other anymore.”
“We’re not. It’s a momentary lapse of reason at times, but yeah, it’s over.” Delilah wasn’t about to explain the complexity of their relationship to someone who had never even tried to be friendly to her.
Jarreth nodded. “Yeah, so over.”
“Tell me you’re going to stay and have a drink with us.” Canter gave Katie his warmest smile, and he held up the bottles.
“Just a sip.” She put the two he’d given her on the bedside table, and Jarreth and Delilah got up to make themselves a mixed drink.
Jarreth opened the orange juice and drank nearly half of it. “Good old, Lulu. Man, I love that woman.” Then he took the vodka and filled the container back full. “Where did you score this?”
“Grady’s room. But don’t worry. I gave him the money to buy it in the first place, so technically, it’s mine.” Katie sipped some of her orange juice and then passed it over for Canter to fill it for her.
“Is that all you want?”
“Yes, my mother will kill me if I’m the least bit tipsy when she shows up.” She turned to Delilah. “Isn’t your mother coming?”
“Yes, but I’m sure she expects this.” Delilah laughed and poured herself a drink.
Canter gulped his orange juice down almost as much as Jarreth and then Delilah poured his.
She lifted her plastic bottle. “To the hunt.”
The others raised their bottles and repeated in unison. “To the hunt.” Then they threw back their drinks and cheered.
Jarreth licked his lips. “That’s some good stuff. Who knew the cheap orange juice was best?”
“Cheap orange juice, cheap vodka. A match made in heaven.” Delilah was already feeling a bit tipsy. Her face was warm, and she turned around to face the TV. “Who wants to kill monsters with me?”
Katie held up her hand. “I do. But I only have time for one game.” She crawled across Canter’s bed, and Delilah handed her the controller.
Canter looked over to where Katie lay on her stomach and decided to sit beside her. Jarreth shook his head and sat on the floor with Delilah, who was stomping the other girl’s ass in the game. They laughed and drank the rest of their drinks, cheering them on.
After Katie lost her final life, she passed the controller over to Jarreth and rolled over to look at Canter, who had been by her side the entire time, wondering how on earth she ended up there.
“I’ve got to go,” she said. “My mom should be here any minute. Walk me out?” She looked at him with hopeful eyes, and he got to his feet and took her hand to help her as she stood.
They walked out to the hallway where she turned to face him. She looked up into his soulful eyes and smiled. “This was fun. You’ve got the best room in the house, for sure.”
“You’re welcome anytime.”
“Thanks.” They held each other’s stare a moment, and Canter wanted to kiss her so badly, but he didn’t want to be too forward. She was on the rebound, and he didn’t want to be anyone’s bandage.
She wished he would kiss her, and when it didn’t seem he would, she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a hug. “I’ll see you at the ceremony.” She was about to pull away and thought, What the hell? What do I have to lose?
She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and then walked away before he had a chance to react.
As he watched her go, he held his cheek. A moment later, after she’d disappeared down the hall, Jarreth opened the door. Delilah was tucked under his arm, her eyes glassy and the smile on her face a drink-induced grin.
It only took Canter one look to determine his friend’s state of being. “She’s already had too much.”
“I agree. More for us. But she had a good idea.” Jarreth swayed but somehow managed to keep Delilah off the floor. “The parking lot is empty. There’s no one here. Let’s go out to the reflecting pond.”
Canter smiled. “Fine, maybe a walk will sober her up.”
Canter took the bottle from Jarreth and took a drink. He was so mixed up about that kiss that he didn’t know what to feel. They took the hall all the way to the end, then slipped into the emergency stairwell where most of the boys went to smoke.
Delilah felt herself spinning on the stairs, but she leaned on Jarreth for comfort.
“Don’t be sick, Del.”
“I’m not. I’m perfectly fine.” She staggered a bit more, and then by the time they hit the ground level, she pulled away and hurried out the back door. When it slammed shut, the sounds of her retching made Canter grimace.
He turned to see that Jarreth had stopped in his tracks. “Shouldn’t we go out there?” Canter asked. Even from where he stood, he could hear the heaving.
Jarreth made a face and then took another swig from the bottle. “Hell no. Let her finish.”
“Aren’t you supposed to hold her hair or something?” Canter was sure that was how these things worked. You kiss her, you hold her hair up when she vomits.
“Delilah wouldn’t want that. If I went out there, she’d punch me in the gut when she finished. She doesn’t like me to see her weaknesses; never has. I should have known better than to let her have vodka. She’s more of a wine drinker.”
Canter took the bottle and took another sip as he leaned back against the wall. “I’d hold Katie’s hair.”
“I think you’ve had too much. I’m cutting you off.” Jarreth took the bottle back and listened through the door. “I think she’s done,” he whispered. He pushed the door open and froze as Delilah was being helped to her feet by Sister Frankie.
“What is the meaning of this?” Frankie asked.
Delilah winced as the sister’s voice rang in her ears. Then the nun snatched the bottle from Jarreth and poured out the little bit that was left.
“Take your trash and get to your room. You can sleep this off until tonight.” She pushed the bottle back to Jarreth.
“We were just celebrating,” he said.
Sister Frankie pegged Jarreth with a hard glare. “Celebrations like these are for adults, and the Church frowns on underage drinking. In another year, you can drink all you want, but until then, while you’re here, you will follow the rules, Mr. Barnes. Not only that, but this poor girl is sick. You’re obviously a horrible influence on her.”
Delilah covered her mouth and tried not to laugh. The thought that Jarreth was a bad influence struck her as funny. She had instigated as much trouble in their lives as he had. Together, they were both horrible influences on each other, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Because at the same time, they held each other together and lifted each other up. That was exactly what best friends did.
“Is this funny, Ms. Miller? Puking your guts out in the bushes like some common gutter trash? Do you not care that you disgrace yourself? You should be ashamed.”
Delilah looked at the ground, which seemed so inviting, but she didn’t dare lie down like she wanted. “Sorry, Sister Frankie.”
The nun turned to Canter. “I expect better from you, Canter. I know this has been a hard week, but turning to alcohol will not solve your problems. Behavior like this gets people killed, dead in the grave with an entire academy to mourn you.”
“We just wanted to forget for a while.” Canter had a lot on his mind. It hadn’t been easy being left behind to call the shots with the other trainees.
“Well, it must be nice, then. Forgetting the tragedy before your friends and commanders are even cold in the ground.” The woman was shaking, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
Canter had heard enough. He snatched the bottle from Jarreth and headed back inside. He wasn’t going to stand there and get scolded for living, for celebrating something he’d worked so hard for. Moping wasn’t going to make Paul any less dead, and he didn’t feel like he had to justify having a drink for his friend.
Deep inside, he was still angry. Angry that Paul and his squad had been chosen for whatever mission they’d been on while he and Jarreth were left behind. If he had been included, he would have been right there with them, and even though he may not have been able to do anything, he didn’t understand why they had to die and he didn’t.
Jarreth caught up to him while Delilah picked up the rear. “Hey, are you okay?”
Canter scowled. “Fuck that! I don’t have to listen to that shit.”
“Amen, brother. I think she wanted to guilt us. But here’s the deal, Paul should’ve been here to celebrate, too.” Jarreth patted Canter on the back and then put his arm around Delilah.
“What does she know?” Canter asked. “And shaming Delilah? What a crock of shit.”
He turned the corner, and suddenly, they were in the Great Hall. Each academy had one, and lining both sides of the hall were the names of all the great hunters who had come before them. He looked over to read their names, knowing that soon enough, his would be there too.
“Wow.” Delilah walked over and found her mother’s name. “There are so many of them.”
“We’re really going to be a part of something big, aren’t we?” Jarreth remembered his first day at the academy when he and Delilah had found their parents’ name, which were almost directly across from one another. Even though they’d come here many times together, this time, it felt different with their marking ceremony only hours away.
Canter didn’t have anyone special on the wall, but he had always been drawn to another name, the name of a stranger who was right next to the Immortal Huntress. To this one name, he felt a kinship of sorts, a strange admiration that he couldn’t explain. He reached up and touched the small plaque, his fingers tracing the letters: A T T I C U S.
Chapter 17
The auditorium was decorated with garlands of greenery, and large wreaths that featured different weapons hung around the room. On the front altar, which was a large stone, each of the hunters would kneel before their commander and be marked on their left shoulder with the hunter’s emblem, a four-pointed star. A banner with two daggers, representing Stella and Luna, draped over the short pedestal where the marking dagger was ready. Rebekah stood in the wings waiting for her cue.
She smoothed her hand down her hips. For once, she wasn’t wearing her daggers. It wasn’t often she was without them, and with so many people gathering, especially hunters, she felt a little naked. It had been over a century since she’d worn her native dress, and she had forgotten how comfortable the toga was compared to all of her leathers. Once she’d left the church, she’d learned to dress much differently, with animal skins and pelts in layers to keep warm, but never to look beautiful, though Ethan had told her once that she couldn’t help it.
She turned her eyes to the crowd of trainees who were all sitting in the front section. They were dressed in their academy robes, which for once, seemed to be properly fashioned; long robes for the ladies and shorter ones for the men, just like in ancient Rome. They were a handsome bunch, but she couldn’t help but worry that they were all so young. Merik must have known what he was doing when he accepted each one, and she had to trust his judgement.
With all the fanfare around her, she couldn’t get the image of Merik to leave her mind. She’d gone to the morgue with Ignis earlier in the day, and after inspecting his body, she still couldn’t be sure whether it was wolves or not. The wounds were in each palm and foot, a single hole which didn’t seem to have any other markings from other teeth around them. The gash in the side was a nasty rip, as if someone took their hands or teeth and tore Merik open. The blood loss was actually minimal, considering the damage and the stains left behind. She still wasn’t any closer to answers.
Father Timms had blessed the grounds and made sure all of the security features were in place. Ignis had placed newer, stronger magic wards around the perimeter just to be extra safe.
Rebekah scanned the crowd again to see if she recognized anyone, but thankfully, she didn’t. Any of the other hunters she’d met had only been in passing, and she didn’t have to worry about anyone blowing her cover. She had managed to maintain her privacy, and even though she was sure some knew, they were all sworn to their vow of secrecy. As she picked the hunters out of the crowd, discerning their posture and their sheer power, Sister Frankie caught her eye.
The woman was so pale that Rebekah grew concerned. Even though the others were starting to accept what had happened to their peers, Frankie was still distraught. It had only been a week, Rebekah reminded herself, and she made a mental note to talk to the woman once this ceremony was over.
Father Timms had offered to do the benediction, and while she sat through his prayer, she spotted Ignis watching from the other side of the stage behind the curtain, waiting for his own cue.
No matter how many of these she’d been through since the early days, there was always something bittersweet about creating more hunters. It wasn’t that she regretted sending them to the hunt, but the process made her their mother of sorts, infused her blood into them, giving them a bond. During that time, she was always reminded that this was the closest to having children she would ever get.
As she heard the collective “Amen,” she steadied herself as Father Timms introduced her as commander. There was no time for regrets or bittersweet tears. She wiped her eyes and walked out on the stage, prepared for her task.
She had not been expected to make a speech, and that was fine by her. She had appointed her trusted assistant Ignis to read the names, and first up: “Jarreth Brock Barnes.”
Jarreth walked up to the altar, feeling like death warmed over. Even though he’d had a nap and drunk a pot of coffee, it hadn’t done him any good. His mother was in the audience with Sage Miller, both extremely pissed at him and Delilah for their bender, and it was probably a good thing his father hadn’t shown up to see him.
He tried not to trip over his feet as he walked forward, his eyes fixed on Rebekah and nothing else. She was just so damned beautiful it hurt. He took a knee at the stone, putting his hand on his heart and bowing his head.
“Jarreth Brock Barnes, in the name of the Immortal Huntress, I mark you. You shall hereby be remade as Hunter. Do you vow your undying devotion to the Huntress and her cause?”
Jarreth had dreamed of this moment ever since he was a child, and every time he got to this part, he would open his mouth and a frog’s croak would come out. But that was when he was a child. Now, he was ready. He took a deep breath, and with a powerful voice, he said, “Yes, I vow.”
Rebekah smiled and undid the clasp at his shoulder. She smoothed down the folds of his robe, and Jarreth turned his eyes to watch. He liked her taking off his clothes, and the very idea that her hands were on him sent his blood pumping.
The robes fit him well, and Rebekah couldn’t help but consider how good Jarreth would have looked in the old days. Back then, male hunters did the ceremony shirtless, but since the Church advocated mod
esty amongst the young co-ed trainees, she and Ignis had designed the robes after the togas of her Roman heritage.
Jarreth still managed to look sexy in his, and with his shoulder bare, ready to receive the mark, his seductive eyes reminded her of Ethan. She took the dagger from the pedestal, and without ado, she met his eyes and pierced his taut, tan flesh. Blood dripped as she pulled the dagger free. As the magic took over, knitting his wound, it left a star-shaped mark; its four points honoring her, the Immortal Huntress.
Rebekah passed the dagger to Ignis who cleaned it as she gave Jarreth his first salute as hunter. He put his fist to his heart, and the crowd clapped, family and friends cheering as the other hunters in the audience gave their salutes as a sign of respect.
Jarreth felt the magic course through his body, noticing first that his vision became clearer and his hearing became sharper as he was remade.
As he went back to his seat, he turned and looked out to see his mother wipe a tear from her cheek. No matter how upset she’d been before, he’d never questioned her love for her only son. He thought of his father, wishing he were there with the same pride on his face, but knowing his reaction would be much different.
Brock Barnes was a difficult man, hardened by the hunt. All of his edges had been sharpened to fine points, making it impossible to get too close or cozy. He was a man of hard lessons, who had always done his best to make his son not only the best, but tough. Jarreth had been taught to know he was special, that the blood that ran through his veins demanded honor, and the only way to do that was to be a man focused on the hunt and nothing else.
But Jarreth had always had another focus. Delilah. And didn’t that drive his father crazy? He warned Jarreth about getting too involved and was livid when she’d announced that she wanted to join the Fellowship with his son.
When Jarreth professed his love for her, his father had called him weak, and three months later when his father abandoned his mother, Jarreth’s focus had really faltered, his attitude had changed, and he’d let Canter and others beat him in rank. The man who had always taught him that loyalty was everything had let him and his mother down. He hadn’t seen him since, and he wondered if he ever would again.