by E. J. King
Rafe let go and stepped around me.
“Square off,” he said.
I planted my feet and faced the bag. Rafe put one hand on my hip, sliding it back a few inches. His other hand turned my shoulder. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck when he said, “Use your whole body. Follow through the punch.”
Then he stepped away, but my skin still tingled from where he had touched me. It infuriated me.
The next punch I landed was markedly better than all of the previous punches. Not only that, it felt good.
“Better,” Rafe said, his first and only word of encouragement. “Now do it again.”
I hit the bag again, and again. Suddenly, I couldn’t stop. I took out all of my anger and fear on the bag, punching until my knuckles were bruised and bloody.
Rafe had to tell me to stop three times before I heard him.
“Let me see your hands,” he said after he led me to bench press. “Sit.”
I sat and stared at my raw knuckles. They hurt like hell now, but I hadn’t even felt it at the time. It had been a long time since I had been able to focus so completely on something and block out everything else.
“Here.” Rafe, seated next to me, reached for my right hand. He held it gently in one of his and then proceeded to cut off the tape. “You shouldn’t have gone so hard your first time out. It’s going to take a while for these to heal.”
“I’m fine.” The words were harsh, but my tone was not.
Rafe’s lips pursed as he cut the other hand free and then surveyed the damage on both of them. “You’re lucky you didn’t break anything.”
“I’m lucky alright.” I winced as he pressed a damp towel to the wounds and gently wiped away the blood.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” he asked with a resolved smile.
I was surprised that he had noticed, and was even more surprised that he cared. “You don’t strike me as someone that cares if people like him.”
“I don’t usually.” He shrugged. “You’re different.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea.” Rafe dropped my hands. “I think it’s your sass. It’s kind of a turn on.”
I laughed, for the first time in a long time. It felt good. “Thanks. You have a nice sass, too.”
Rafe’s smile was equal parts charming and dangerous. I tried looking into his eyes but instead found myself staring at my own reflection. I asked, “Why do you always wear those?”
“I have a sensitivity to light.” He looked away. “You can go. We’re done here.”
“There,” I said. “That’s why I don’t like you.”
Rafe got up and threw the bloody towel across the room. “Well, at least you have a reason.”
I started to get my things together, determined to storm out. But something made me stop. For some reason, I didn’t want to end the night with both of us annoyed.
“I’m sorry if I pissed you off,” I said. “I’m not sure what I did, but I’m sorry. I appreciate the help you and Ethan gave me today.
Rafe’s back was to me and I could see his shoulders rise and fall as he sighed. “It’s not your fault. I can be moody.”
“Yeah, I was going to ask if you needed a tampon,” I joked.
He laughed and turned. “Give me a second and I’ll walk you out.”
Rafe and I walked to my car in silence. I wasn’t sure what to say now that we weren’t focused on my training or fighting. It was harder to be with Rafe than it was to be with Ethan.
“You should ice your hands tonight. It will keep down the swelling.”
I nodded absently. “Why are you helping me? You don’t even know me.”
“We’re Hunters. We help each other.”
It was true enough. Being a Hunter pretty much meant you had an extended family. But Hunters didn’t usually seek out other Hunters to help. They were too busy killing evil monsters.
“But why did you come all the way to Jackson to find me?”
Rafe sighed and leaned against the car. “When your family was killed, it sent shockwaves through the Hunter community. The Hart family is legendary, so we were all devastated.” He looked at me apologetically. “Not nearly as much as you, I know. But I think we all felt like we lost family that day.”
“I stayed with some Hunters afterward. They were the only family I had left,” I said, not really sure why I was offering up personal information. “It wasn’t safe to stay in that home, so I packed up some stuff and hit the road.”
For a year after the murder, I stayed with three of my parents’ closest friends. I would stay with one for three or four months and then move on. After a year of being a nomad, I settled in Jackson and applied to college. This past year in my current apartment was the longest I had ever lived in any one place.
Rafe looked at me, clearly thinking hard about what to say next.
“It’s okay. There’s nothing you can say that makes anything that happened easier to accept. But this is my realty now, and I’m doing okay.” I didn’t need anyone’s pity.
“Are you?” His head tilted to the right. “You turned your back on your family’s legacy and you’re living like a hermit in the middle of nowhere.”
“Don’t judge me,” I snapped. If he hadn’t been blocking the door, I wouldn’t jumped in the car. “I did what I had to do to survive.”
“What happened that night, Kaylie?” Rafe asked, sounding urgent. “Before I got to you, what happened?”
I found myself leaning next to him against the car as I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I looked up at the sky.
“My parents and I fought that day. I don’t even remember what we fought about, but I got mad and left. I remember that. And then I remember being back in our house, laying in the middle of all of them. That’s it.” I looked at Rafe. “The only other thing I remember is that someone carrying me away.”
Rafe didn’t look at me the way the other Hunters had when I told them the story right afterwards. All of them had looked at me in disbelief, or even annoyance. They didn’t believe that I hadn’t seen what had killed my family. They wanted vengeance and they were angry at me for denying them that pleasure.
“That’s probably for the best,” he said, and I could tell that he meant it.
I started to ask him how he had ended up in our house that night, but Rafe was done with our bonding moment.
“You have big plans for the night?” he asked, casually shoving his hands into his pockets.
Out of habit, I almost answered no. Then I remembered Hope’s party. “A friend of mine is dragging me to some fraternity party at the Oakwood Campgrounds. Allegedly it will be fun.”
Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“No, I don’t, but probably not for the same reasons as you.” I found myself annoyed again by his big brother attitude. “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, Rafe. I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” he said, causing me to become even more infuriated.
“I don’t care.” I glared hard at him. “Please move.”
He took one big step to his left, allowing me to reach for the door handle, then his hand closed around my wrist in a tight grip. “Life isn’t a game, Kaylie. You need to be more careful.”
“If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.” I jerked my arm away. “Until then, stay out of my life.”
Rafe didn’t back down. “I’m not going anywhere, Kaylie. You might as well get used to having me around.”
CHAPTER THREE
Hope insisted I stop by her dorm room before we headed to the party. The girls were having a pre-party in her room, and I had to admit that it would be nice to meet some other people before going to a party in the woods where I wouldn’t know anyone. Maybe I would even make a new friend or two. After such a testosterone fueled training session, I was ready for a relaxing and fun night.
It turned out that Hope had ulterior m
otives. First, she wrinkled her nose at my appearance before pushing me into her desk chair. Then, she studied me hard before coming to a conclusion that everything had to change.
“Hair and makeup first,” she said definitely. “Then we’ll do something about that outfit.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked in surprise. Jeans and a hoodie had seemed like a foolproof choice.
Hope shook her head at me, exasperated by my idiotic question. “You have a killer body, Kaylie. If you’re going to get laid tonight, you need to show it off.”
“I’m not trying to get laid tonight, Hope.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re not a virgin, are you?”
“What? No.” I flinched as she came at me with a mascara wand. “I just have no desire to catch a disease from some drunk frat guy.”
“I suppose that’s respectable,” she said with reluctance. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t look hot tonight anyway.”
Resistance was futile, so I sat quietly while Hope worked her magic. When she finally let me look in the mirror, I barely recognized myself.
“Yikes,” I said, feeling a bit ridiculous.
After a small amount of debate, Hope had agreed to let me wear jeans, but she’s traded in my comfortable ones for a pair of her skin tight ones. The hoodie had been replaced with a tight fitting, off the shoulder top. My hair was shiny and wavy, my skin flawless.
“Your eyes are out of control right now,” she said, beaming. “That eye shadow totally makes them pop.”
It wasn’t exactly a secret that my eyes were my most intriguing feature. They were an amber brown, but when they caught the light they looked gold. I hated them.
“I thought we were having a pre-party,” I said, turning away from my reflection.
Just then, two girls skipped into the room holding a bottle of vodka and liters of soda. One of them smiled broadly and proclaimed in a high-pitch voice, “Oh my gosh! You two look adorable!”
Within minutes, we were joined by six other girls. It was the perfect opportunity for me to practice not being anti-social. I thought I was doing a pretty good job. I complimented the other girls on their clothing, or lack of clothing, nodded enthusiastically as they gossiped about boys, and used my bartending skills to whip up strong, tasty drinks. It wasn’t until we actually got to the party that I realized I had only brushed the tip of the iceberg of my social experiment.
“Don’t bail on me.” I grabbed Hope’s arm and refused to let go until she agreed not to leave my side. Five minutes later, she was gone.
The party was a bigger deal than I had anticipated. Nearly a hundred people had showed up to the woods and many of them were already drunk. I recognized a few kids from class or the library, and even talked to a couple of them. I was out of practice in the small talk department, but that didn’t really matter when talking to people who called me Kale and thought I was in their sorority. Alcohol was an excellent equalizer.
“Hey, do you know where I can find the keg?” It seemed like conversation would be even easier if I could stop thinking about how drunk everyone else was. If I couldn’t beat them, I might as well join them.
“Through those trees,” a girl said, pointing in no particular direction.
When I saw a group of guys holding empty plastic cups, I made the strategic decision to follow them. It was a wise decision.
“You here alone?”
I whirled, fully prepared to fend off bad pick-up lines being delivered by a leering frat guy. I was wrong.
“Ethan! What are you doing here?”
He smiled shyly, making him look even more adorable than usual. In jeans and a flannel shirt, he fit in perfectly with everyone else. “Rafe mentioned the party and we both thought we should come.”
“To keep an eye on me?” I accused.
“Partly. But also because it sounded like fun.” His eyes sparkled. “Not to mention the added bonus of getting to spend time with you.”
“Well played,” I conceded. “Where’s your brother?”
Ethan’s eyes rolled. “Hitting on sorority girls. This is pretty much his happy place.”
“I’m sure. His happy place is my version of hell.”
The beer line moved up and Ethan filled two cups. When he was done, he turned to me with a smile and asked, “Wanna go walking through the dark woods with me?”
“How could I turn down an offer like that?” It was easy to return his smile. “Nothing bad ever happens in movies when girls go off with strange guys. Especially when woods are involved.”
Because the woods were actually an old campground, it wasn’t quite as scary and desolate as a scene from a horror movie. We found an old fire pit still filled with wood and Ethan set about getting a fire going.
“You must’ve been an excellent Boy Scout,” I teased as I settled onto an extremely large tree stump. “But I think using a lighter is a form of cheating.”
“I got kicked out of Boy Scouts,” he said, taking a seat next to me. “Rafe and I were a little too aggressive when we were trying to get the hunting badge.”
“For real?” Because he was always smiling, it was hard to tell when he was being serious.
“No. We actually never got a chance to be in Boy Scouts. We moved around too much.” He bent down and picked up a long stick, using it to stir the flames.
I understood without saying how hard it was to grow up in a Hunter family. Because of my past, I’d never played on a team, joined a club, or attended a school dance. It was a lonely childhood.
“I was elected Homecoming Queen at my last school,” I said, suddenly feeling the need to share something personal about myself. “But a week before the dance, my parents pulled me out so we could move again. I insisted on being homeschooled after that.”
“So no homecoming? No prom?”
“No nothing.” It was hard not to feel bitter. “I did kill my first Soul when I was eight, though.
“I was ten,” Ethan said. “You’re pretty impressive.”
I remembered how proud my parents had been. I had nightmares for a month afterward. “Do you ever wonder what your life would’ve been like if you weren’t born into a Hunter family?”
“Sometimes.” Ethan stared hard at the flames in front of us. “But if my mom hadn’t been a Hunter, she never would’ve had Rafe or me. So I can’t say that I regret it.”
“If my parents hadn’t been Hunters, they wouldn’t be dead right now.” I scooped up a handful of twigs and threw them into the fire one-by-one.
“You don’t know that.” Ethan turned to me and his leg brushed against mine. “You never know how changing the past could affect the future. That’s why you have to live with no regrets.”
My skin tingled where his leg pressed against mine. It had been a long time since I’d had this kind of close contact with anyone, let alone an attractive guy. Maybe it was the fire, or the alcohol, but I was starting to feel warm.
“Speaking of regrets, do you want to go back to the party?”
Ethan looked directly into my eyes when he answered. “I want to be wherever you want to be.”
“I’m happy right here,” I said, meaning the words.
“Good.” Ethan smiled before turning back to the fire. “I don’t really like crowds anyway.”
I watched him throw more sticks into the flames and the flash of a tattoo on his forearm caught my eye. Somehow, I hadn’t noticed it earlier.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing.
“Evidence of my younger self’s stupidity,” he said with a laugh.
Dropping the last handful of sticks, he rolled up his sleeve. “My family crest.”
All of the Hunter families had a crest. It was used by Hunters to prove their identities to other Hunters. Most of them were simple designs- easy to draw at the bottom of correspondence. But Ethan’s family crest was highly complex.
“Is that a bird?” I squinted at the intricate swirls.
“A raven.” Ethan t
raced the line with his fingertip. “The moon. Our initial.”
“What’s this part?” I was surprised to find my hand reaching over until my finger nail lightly grazed over the wording tattooed above the bird.
Ethan’s eyes grew dark. “It says Rayne. My grandmother’s name. We were very close.”
His voice sounded so haunted that I knew she must be dead.
“When did you lose her?” I couldn’t help but picture my own mother’s face.
“Three years ago. A car accident, of all things.” He laughed bitterly. “Such a boring way to die.”
“It isn’t any better when they die dramatically,” I said.
Ethan pulled his arm away and unrolled his sleeve. “I know, Kaylie.”
I was surprised at how connected to him I felt in that moment. We had suffered similar losses, lived similar lives of sorrow. Looking into his eyes, I found myself wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
“Your eyes are stunning,” he said, sounding slightly breathless.
“They don’t freak you out?”
Most Hunters took one look at my eyes and started to reach for their weapons. Their gold was just a shade darker than those of the Souls. For most of my life, I had hated my eyes, hated that I looked like a monster.
“You’re kidding, right?” Ethan smirked. “The only reason I act like a nervous dork around you is because you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.”
“Stop.” I blushed fiercely and looked away. “Don’t even try to pretend that you are a dork.”
“I make a good first impression. Just wait until we’ve known each other for more than a couple of days.” Ethan nodded to the dying fire. “Think that’s a sign that we should stop being so anti-social?”
I sighed and reluctantly nodded. “We’re out of drinks anyway.”
Ethan stood and when he offered me his hand, it felt perfectly natural to take it. Neither of us were in a hurry to get back, so we walked slowly. He told me a story about camping with Rafe when they were kids and how when they got lost, Rafe insisted he could get them home by using the stars to navigate.
“Unfortunately, we were right by an airport. So we ended up zigzagging all over the woods chasing airplane lights until we accidentally found a highway. To this day, Rafe swears he used the North Star to get us home.” Ethan told the story with so much fondness that it was clear he adored his older brother.