Inamorato

by Keira Michelle Telford

  “What the fuck is with all of this Mr. King bullshit?” Alex speaks quietly to her. “My name’s Alex.”

  The sentiment would cheer her, if she weren’t in so much pain. She doesn’t realize that he’s only saying it to prevent her from continuing to speak his last name.

  “You’re funny, Hunter.” She winces as the doctor begins to stitch her up. “And just when I was beginning to think you were all work and no play.”

  “You’re one to talk. This was a prime occasion to get shot up with all kinds of fancy drugs, and yet you’d rather sit here and feel every single prod and twinge.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be taking my mind off the pain?”

  “All done,” the doctor announces, rising from his chair. “I’ll get a nurse to bandage you up.”

  Left alone with Ella, Alex finally slips his hand away from hers and delves it into his pocket instead. Feeling as though he needs a distraction, he spies a vending machine at the end of the room.

  “Can I get you anything? Coffee maybe? I’m gonna need coffee. I have to be at work in”—he checks his watch—“about two hours. The coffee here tastes like pond scum, but it’s better than nothing.”

  “There’s a coffee shop by my place,” she hints. “It’s open all night.”

  “No way,” Alex rejects her. “The last time you made me stop for something on the way home, I got a bollocking for it.”

  “I told you to leave the pizza box in the truck, but you didn’t listen to me.”

  “That was before I knew it was part of your modus operandi.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. Maydevine told me all about your little scheme to turn his ‘errand boys’ into an army of your helpless minions.”

  “Oh, please. I’m only proving a point. He thinks his men are infallible, but he’s mistaken.”

  “Do you enjoy humiliating them in front of the Hunter General?”

  “They deserve it. So far, all of his errand boys have been assholes.”

  “Thanks. Shall we quickly remind ourselves who was nice enough to get out of his bed in the middle of the night to bring your beat up ass to the hospital?”

  An instant blush of shame colors her cheeks. “I didn’t mean you.”

  “Oh, sure. Whatever you say.”

  “I’m serious. I hardly gave you a tough time at all that night.”

  “I nearly broke your arm.”

  “You felt that, too, huh?”

  “What was that? Just more extracurricular pain management for you? You taunted me deliberately.”

  “I wanted to see what you’d do.”

  “Why?”

  “Act, don’t react. It’s a Hunter Division motto, and yet hardly any Hunter ever seems to abide by it. They lash out at me when I provoke them.”

  “Including me.”

  “No, you held steady and let me put myself exactly where you wanted me so that you could detain me. And you didn’t call me names—that was a big bonus.”

  Alex frowns. “How have the other Hunters treated you?”

  “They draw their weapons, shout things at me, and generally tend to go all primal. Just like the rest of your men did when I leapt at you outside your truck.”

  “They didn’t actually shoot at you.”

  “They drew their weapons on an unarmed girl. Their fingers were on the triggers—I saw it. You really think that’s reasonable?”

  He doesn’t, but he doesn’t want to get into it with her.

  Instead, “How long were you out there waiting for someone to come and extract you?”

  Ella half shrugs. “Four hours, give or take.”

  “Why do you do it?”

  “Human behavior fascinates me.”

  A nurse bustles around the curtain and sets to work bandaging Ella’s hand, but Ella is too preoccupied with her own dark thoughts to really notice the discomfort anymore.

  “Do you know how Jonathan Cross died?”

  That question hits Alex off-guard, and he has to delve deep into his memory banks for the answer. “A Chimera attack, wasn’t it?”

  “He made a mistake.”

  “It happens.”

  “He thought he was infallible.”

  Alex begins to understand.

  “He became intoxicated with the idea of it,” she continues, “and his judgment lapsed because of it.”

  The nurse gives Ella back her hand and she flexes it, just to make sure that she still can. Then she holds her right wrist up to Alex, showing him a pair of Hunter Division dog tags that she always wears there.

  “These were his. Do you know why I wear them?”

  “Because he was your—”

  “It reminds me of my own mortality. He died because he thought he never could.” She hops off the bed. “We’re all fallible, Mr. King. The real trick is not to pretend that you have no weakness, but to figure out what it is so that it may never have the opportunity to catch you unawares.” She begins to walk away from him. “The Hunter Division is in denial. I’m not.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Prodigy Smackdown

  Alex pulls his car up outside his apartment building.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you all the way home?”

  Ella shakes her head. “It’s only two blocks. I’ve got feet.”

  He cuts the engine and they step out, each with a fresh to-go cup of hot coffee in their hands.

  “Thanks for the coffee.” She winks at him.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Alex rests his coffee atop the car and lights up a cigarette.

  “Would you mind?” Ella nods to the packet.

  He holds the packet out to her and she takes one. He lights it for her, and a small shiver ripples through him at the touch of her cold hands against his when she cups her slender fingers around him to shield the flame from the breeze.

  Dawn is approaching.

  “You should get going.” He takes a subtle step back from her. “Your papa will be awake soon.”

  Ella doesn’t even attempt to argue; she knows he’s right.

  “I guess I’ll catch you later, then.”

  “I hope not.” Alex laughs. “This has been quite the experience, but not one that I’m in too much of a hurry to repeat.”

  Ella accepts that.

  She looks as though she’s ready to turn and walk away, but then she slips into his personal space. Before he could stop her—were he even inclined to try—she leans into him on tiptoe and plants a quick kiss on his cheek.

  “Thank you, again, Mr. King.”

  He remains Hunter calm. “I thought I told you to call me Alex.”

  Her big silver eyes look up at him, still gleaming through the exhaustion. “Good morning, Alex.”

  As she turns and hightails it back to her home, he feels a conflicted pang of longing that he quickly tries to ignore. Standing there alone, he reminds himself of three things: she’s his boss’s daughter; she’s underage; and he should be glad to see the back of her.

  Sighing, he takes no more than a step toward his apartment building before his cell phone begins to beep.

  It’s an automated message from the Dual Division Headquarters—the DDH:

  REPORT FOR DUTY.

  0600 HRS.

  That’s less than an hour from now.

  He looks fondly in the direction of his apartment, knowing that he’ll not see the inside of it again for ten hours or more. With the nicotine and caffeine combo helping to refresh him, he fishes the car keys back out of his pocket and mentally prepares himself for a long day to be spent battling fatigue.

  *************************

  Unshaven, Alex dons his spare Hunter Division combat uniform in the men’s change room in the basement of the DDH. As he’s leaving, two other Hunters pass by him, headed in the opposite direction.

  Their eyes are practically glued to their cell phones, and they’re not looking where they’re going. They knock into him as they r
ound the corner.

  “Sorry, Tea Leaf,” one of them mumbles.

  Alex’s jaw tightens at the nickname, but, running late for the start of his shift, he thinks better of making a confrontation out of it. This time, he lets it go.

  Upstairs, in the DDH loading bay, as he makes his way toward his truck, his cell phone beeps again.

  “What now?”

  A message from an anonymous sender:

  BE SAFE, HUNTER.

  He smiles and pockets the phone. It shouldn’t mean anything, but it does. Just then, another Hunter—one from his old third line unit—catches him with the phone in his hand and leaps to another conclusion.

  “Hey, you got it, too?”

  “Huh? Got what?”

  “The video.”

  “What video?”

  “It’s gone viral, man. It’s fucking wicked.”

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Is this some weird porn thing again?”

  “It was sent to my phone first thing this morning, and it’s making its way through the whole Division.”

  “You’ve totally lost me.”

  “Here, I’ll send it to you.”

  The Hunter pulls out his cell phone from the chest pocket of his Kevlar vest, his name embroidered above.

  Austin ‘Oz’ Calloway.

  Oz, a tall and heavyset African-American man, is much bigger than Alex. His body type is naturally inclined to be muscular, and he’s extremely proud of it.

  Ping!

  Alex’s phone receives the message.

  A video file: Prodigy Smackdown.

  “Oh, no.”

  He clicks on the file and watches grainy cell phone footage of a Belt fight. Pryor has been knocked to the ground and Ella has entered the cage. Alex watches her take the Chimera down, using all of her strength to subdue it. A part of him is horrified. A larger part of him is awed. Some of him is slightly aroused.

  “Who’s sending this?” He looks up at Oz. “Who’s doing this?”

  “I got it from Grinstead. He got it from his brother. Who cares where it started? It fucking rocks!”

  “Has the Hunter General seen it?”

  “What the fuck do I care?”

  “He’s going to go ape shit.”

  “So?”

  Alex starts to back away. “Cover for me, will you?”

  “Where are you going?”

  Alex doesn’t answer, he just bolts out of the DDH loading bay.

  *************************

  Tappity-tap-tap-tap.

  Ella rolls over in bed and pulls the covers up over her head, trying to ignore it.

  “Go away,” she moans.

  The tapping against her bedroom window persists.

  “Ella?” a voice calls to her from outside. “El, open up.”

  Frustrated, Ella kicks back the sheets, gets up, and throws open the curtains to glare at Luka. He’s standing outside in the crisp morning air, hugging his jacket around his shoulders. She heaves the window open, but not enough to let him inside.

  “What do you want, Luka?”

  “You’re late for class.”

  Ella shakes her head. “Didn’t you know? I’ve been suspended for a month.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says the Academy Director, you prick. So get lost.”

  She tries to shut the window on him, but he stops her.

  “Your suspension was revoked fifteen minutes ago. I’ve been sent to roust you.”

  “Revoked?” Ella frowns. “On what grounds?”

  “Pryor confessed.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Na-uh. Nothing but the honest truth. She walked right into the Academy Director’s office this morning—with a limp, I might add—and flew the flag of defeat.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “What difference does it make? Just get your ass out here already.”

  Ella checks her invisible watch. “Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll meet you out front.”

  “Can’t I come in?”

  “Why?”

  “I can warm your towel for you while you’re in the shower. Or if I help you wash, you’ll be done in half the time.”

  She slams the window shut on him.

  *************************

  Alex swipes his left wrist against the tag plate that secures the DDH IT maintenance room. Thankfully, at this time of day, the technicians are still at home, sound asleep in their beds.

  He nabs a laptop from a desk drawer and boots it up. Sliding out a memory card from a slot in his cell phone, he loads a self-created program and hacks into the Omega mainframe using the laptop owner’s personnel account.

  Slipping a retractable USB connector cable out from the back of his phone, he plugs it into the laptop while he locates Omega’s cellular phone network files on the mainframe.

  This is a piece of cake for him: he’s been hacking into the Omega mainframe since he was twelve. It only takes him a few seconds to embed a deletion virus into the ‘Prodigy Smackdown’ video file on his phone, and forward the complete package to every cell phone that’s registered in the Omega network. At the same time, he traces the origination of the message.

  *************************

  Ella, showered and dressed, finally turns on her cell phone.

  Missed call: the Academy.

  Missed call: Luka.

  Text message: Luka.

  WTF?

  Text message: anonymous sender.

  It’s a video file: Prodigy Smackdown.

  Ella opens the message and clicks on the file.

  Nothing.

  Error 404.

  She hits ‘delete’.

  *************************

  Alex breathes a sigh of relief.

  His heart beating erratically, he closes up the laptop and does his best to replace everything where he found it. Before he leaves, he snatches up the scrap of paper on which he wrote the name of the anonymous sender.

  Tipper Jynx.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Courtship

  Alex, hurrying not to be late, jogs through the DDH loading bay toward his second line truck. Oz is waiting there for him. Knowing what Alex has done with the video, he pouts and pretends to be angry.

  “Not cool, man.” He shakes his head. “Not cool.”

  Alex has known him for too long to take him seriously. They were in the same graduating class, and until Alex’s promotion to the second line, they’d always worked in the same unit.

  “Get back to the third line, you tool.”

  Alex shoves him out of the way and gets into the driver’s seat of his truck, where the rest of his unit is waiting patiently. Lighting up a cigarette, he halfheartedly apologizes for the delay and gears up.

  Nobody cares.

  On their way toward the city gates, they pass by the Hunter Division Academy. Ella’s class is on the sidewalk, waiting for their Academy bus to arrive, ready to head into the Second Reclamation Territory for another day of fieldwork.

  Alex picks her out of the crowd instantly. She looks immaculate: pristine combat uniform, perfect hair, and a military stance that would fit right in on a Hunter Division first line unit. Wearing only a tank top beneath her Kevlar vest, Alex notices the strength in her upper body for the first time. Despite her average frame, her shoulders are broader than you would expect. Not unfeminine, but strong, with well-defined biceps to match.

  Capable, Alex thinks, and worthy of the uniform.

  She senses his eyes upon her and looks up at the truck as it rumbles past. Holding back a smile, careful not to betray their familiarity, she tips her head respectfully toward his vehicle. Perhaps the look lingers too long, and as Luka approaches her, he catches onto it. Glancing up in the direction of her sightline, he notes the Hunter at the wheel, but doesn’t recognize him.

  Alex looks away, and Ella allows Luka to draw her attention.

  “She’s been staring at you for ten minutes,” he informs her. />
  “Who?”

  He nods toward Pryor, who’s smoking a cigarette and watching the Academy class from a distance—now excluded from it.

  Ella’s face sinks into a frown. “What the fuck does she want?”

  “I think she’s trying to communicate.”

  “She could try talking to me. It might be more effective.”

  “Maybe she’s attempting telepathy.”

  “Then she can officially add that to her list of failures.”

  “Ooh, so harsh,” Luka pretends to disapprove.

  “She deserves better?”

  “I don’t think she’s gonna go away until you acknowledge her.”

  Perhaps he’s right, Ella sighs. For as much as she doesn’t want to enter into any dialogue with Pryor, her curiosity begs to know what caused such a sudden surge of morality.

  Pryor rises to her feet as Ella draws close. “I think there’s a chance we got off on the wrong foot,” she says, looking uncharacteristically sorry for herself.

  Ella remains pokerfaced, forcing Pryor to fill the silence with more words.

  “I didn’t realize all the rumors about you were true.”

  “That didn’t quite sound like an apology.”

  “I’ll get there.”

  “Do.”

  Pryor seems distinctly less cocksure than the last time they met.

  “You saved my life last night,” she mumbles, staring down at the ground.

  “Nice to know you were paying attention.”

  “I couldn’t let you take the fall for what I did in class. Not after that.”

  Ella remains stern and brisk, beginning to enjoy the feeling of superiority that’s building within her. “Wow, a conscience. How profound.”

  “You hate me, and that’s fine. My skills don’t match yours—you made that pretty clear—but I can still be useful to you.”

  Ella’s intrigued. “How?”

  “I transferred in from the sparks department. Do you know what they teach there?”

  “Bombs.”

  “You might be the best there is in combat, but I’m the best there is in explosives.” Some of the cocksure attitude returns. “I could make fire out of rain, Prodigy.”