Jael hurried up the steps and through the front door. Through the screen she saw her father and uncle still down by the shed, talking. Bruno positioned himself on the bottom step. She smiled.
“Jael, come here,” her mother called from the kitchen. “We need to clean that cut with antiseptic. Who knows where Seth’s knife has been.”
She went into the kitchen and slumped in a chair at the table, watching her mom dig through the first-aid drawer. She called it the boo-boo drawer, because whenever she had a cut or scrape, a bug bite or sliver, her mom would find something in that drawer to make it feel better. Whether they lived in a trailer, house, or apartment, they always had a boo-boo drawer, because training to be a vampire slayer often came with mishaps.
“It’s not that big a deal, Mom.”
“Better to be safe than sorry. Little things can become big deals.”
She shrugged.
“Are you all right?” Her mom wiped the wound with an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball and then blew gently over the cut as if she were still a little girl.
“Of course. I’ve had worse.”
She pressed an extra large bandage over the thin slit and secured it with white tape, then looked up and met Jael’s eyes. “I’m not talking about your leg, honey. I’m talking about your dad’s little surprise.”
Jael rolled her eyes. “What do you want me to say? That it was justified, because I need to be ready in any situation? That scaring you to death in the process was okay? No, I don’t like what he did. Dad can throw whatever he wants at me, but he shouldn’t have involved you.” She stood up and walked to the sink, peering out into the sun-baked yard. The men were standing at the bottom of the steps now, staring Bruno in the face. His hackles were up and he seemed to be taking his guard duty very seriously. She couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Her mom put the bandages back in the drawer and came to stand beside her. When she saw the scene playing out on the steps she shook her head and grinned. “Jael. I can’t believe you’ve turned Bruno against his own master.”
She slipped an arm around her mother’s waist. “Just call me the dog whisperer.”
“Jael!” her father yelled up to the house. “Get out here and tell this dog to let us in!”
Her mother pushed her toward the door, laughing. “Go save your father from the wrath of Bruno and then come back and help me get dinner going.”
Jael opened the front door and made a clicking sound with her tongue. Bruno turned his head to look up at her and whined. “Good boy. Go take a nap,” she said. He slipped around the men and crawled into the shade under the deck. “What’s wrong, Dad? Are you afraid of your own dog?”
Uncle Seth snorted a laugh.
Her father shot him a hard look. “Who are you to laugh, little brother? You just let a girl beat you up.”
“Uncle Seth didn’t let me do anything, Dad. He’s lucky I didn’t break his arm.”
“Why didn’t you? You had him in a double joint lock, after all.” They moved through the door, following her into the kitchen. He slapped Seth on the back. “It would have served him right.”
“Hey! You’re the one who planned this little charade.” Seth glared at his brother and sat at the kitchen table turning his chair to straddle it like a horse.
“It didn’t feel right,” she said, moving to the sink to peel the potatoes her mom put out. “I didn’t know it was Seth, but something wasn’t…” she shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Woman’s intuition,” her mom supplied. “When violence fails, think with your heart.”
“Yeah, that’ll work,” her dad scoffed. He pulled a can of cola from the refrigerator and handed one to Seth as well. “You’ll have her feeling sorry for the monsters with that kind of sensitivity training.”
She started scraping peelings into the sink and listened with growing irritation to the conversation floating around her. They were discussing her as if she wasn’t even in the room.
“I’m just glad you two finally decided to fill her in on her life’s vocation. You know how hard it is to skirt around the issue every time I stop by for a visit?” Seth asked. He popped the top on his can of soda and took a long drink.
“You know how hard it is to train the Chosen One without telling her why she needs to be able to stake a straw man in the heart at thirty paces while running full blast and jumping a wall?”
“Boys,” her mom interrupted, her voice raised to get their attention, “could you talk about something else please?” She stopped and kissed Jael’s cheek before she crossed the kitchen floor to check the roast in the oven.
Her mom always knew what she was feeling. Her dad…not so much. He wanted her to be prepared, to be the best slayer she could possibly be, but it wasn’t up to him anymore. She needed to get her head around the fact that things were soon going to change and there was nothing she could do about it. But she’d prefer to deal with it in private.
“What else would we talk about? We’ve been training her since she was out of diapers and now she’s nearly ready to fulfill the prophecy and you want to talk about something else? It’s been hard holding back, keeping this secret between the three of us. Now that she knows, there’s no reason to keep silent.”
Jael slammed the potato down and let the peeler drop into the sink. She turned slowly, her eyes filling with tears of anger and disappointment. They didn’t understand. They could never understand. She was Chosen. Not them. “Do you know how hard it is to be a teenage girl and be told that your life is not your own, that the dreams you’ve dreamed and the hopes you’ve cherished for the future may never be more than that…hopes and dreams? Being Chosen doesn’t feel to me like a gift, but like a curse. I wish I’d never been born with six toes!” She turned and ran from the room, rushing down the hall to her bedroom.
Chapter 6
They suck blood, not dust
Chosen Page 5