by C. J. Hill
He shifted his grip on the steering wheel. “I’m not saying all of this because I don’t care about you. I’m saying it because I care too much. When we argue, I can’t think straight. Neither of us can afford to be that way.”
How was she supposed to respond to that? Tell him to care about her less? His words were just an easy out. A more noble sounding version of: It’s me, not you. So she didn’t respond at all. Her throat felt too tight for words. She pulled homework from her backpack and worked on it—firmly, stiffly, and without being able to concentrate on it.
Five miles before they reached the practice field, Tori’s powers kicked in—the simulator’s doing. Her senses grew sharper and her energy picked up. Soon she would be soaring and gliding in the sky—it almost made up for the rest of practice.
A few minutes later, Jesse’s car reached the driveway of the old farm where they trained during the school year. An overgrown orchard surrounded the place, hiding it from the main road. It’s once orderly rows had been overrun with unruly trees intent on turning the land back into forest. Sam, the unknown patron of the Slayers, had bought it a decade ago and surrounded the whole place with a fifteen-foot barbed wire fence.
Jesse pulled up to the gate and punched in the code to open it. Then the Prius jiggled down the uneven road and over to the stretch of dirt where the Slayers parked. Before Jesse had even completely turned off the car, Tori got out and slammed the door harder than she intended. With her powers turned on, things broke easier. She stormed off toward the stable to get her horse.
Within a few steps, Jesse caught up with her. “Listen, I shouldn’t have laid all of that on you right before practice. We should have waited until afterward to talk.”
“I’m fine,” she said, steeling her voice to make it sound truer. Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe.
He knew she wasn’t fine. She could see the concern in his eyes. “Really,” he said, “I’m sorry.”
Two words that didn’t change anything. They were little stitches that couldn’t hold together the wounds between them. “Yeah, I’m sorry too. The problem is I think we’re sorry about different things.” She headed to the stables so she didn’t have to keep hearing him apologize for not caring about her enough—or for caring about her too much. In the end, it worked out to be the same thing.
She had to get through this practice—no, not get through it. Even though she felt horrible, she had to prove to the other Slayers and Dr. B that she was ready to be a captain again, that she deserved it. She was going to slay her dragons faster and better than she ever had—or at least faster and better than Jesse did.
Chapter 11
Tori went into the barn, a weathered red building that was quaint enough for a country-themed calendar. The quaintness had happened completely by chance, she supposed, since Dr. B only cared about function, not beauty. The inside was almost industrial: gray divided stalls and a sterile-looking tack room.
She was met with the familiar scent of hay mixed with horse and manure. A comforting smell. Probably because for years it had been the smell of long rides through wooded trails with her sister and parents. Nature. Freedom.
All of that seemed so long ago.
Booker, Dr. B’s usually-silent and frequently grumpy right-hand man, stood by the stalls saddling up the extra horses. Two were always kept ready in case one of the Slayers’ mounts had a problem during practice. Most of the other Slayers were still in the barn cinching on saddles or putting their gear on. When she walked in, everyone turned and looked at her.
And that’s when she remembered Jesse wasn’t the only one angry at her. Most of the Slayers were too.
She held up her hands to gather their attention and took a deep breath. “Hey guys, I’m sorry I didn’t let you know what I was doing with Aaron. I know I should have but he didn’t want me to tell anyone. I had to make the call alone.”
Ryker stopped brushing his horse and fixed her with a gaze. Since he was six foot four, his gazes always carried extra weight. “You weren’t supposed to—” he made air quotes, “let us know. You were supposed to let us have a say in the matter. Adding a third dragon lord to Overdrake’s arsenal affects all of us.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “Aaron is on our side. He can help us, but I knew the rest of you don’t trust him because he’s a dragon lord.”
Ryker went back to brushing his horse. “We don’t mistrust Aaron because he’s a dragon lord, we mistrust him because he’s a child.”
Lilly, Tori’s blonde-haired nemesis, hefted a saddle on her horse. “I mistrust him because he’s a dragon lord. By nature, they’re power-hungry and back-stabbing.”
“Thanks.” Tori made her way to the tack room. “I appreciate that opinion. If I ever decide to stab someone in the back, you’re making the choice a lot easier.”
Bess left her horse tied to a post, intercepted Tori, and gave her a hug. “I’d tell you not to listen to Lilly, but since that’s been standard policy for years, I won’t bother.”
For a moment, Tori melted into Bess’s hug, lived on it. As long as she still had friends here, everything would be fine. Even after Bess let her go, Tori kept a tight hold on that knowledge.
Booker led the backup horses to the door. “Listen up! You’ll have time for chatting when you’re dead. Get your horses ready and get on out of here.”
He most likely meant they would have time for chatting after they’d been symbolically killed during practice and were sitting out waiting for the next round. But with Booker, it was hard to be sure.
Tori took Bane from his stall. He was a black gelding, a beautiful creature who seemed to dislike everyone but her. He gave her a welcoming whinny and nudged her with his velvety nose. She petted his neck and murmured to him, then led him to the far end of the barn so she could brush his coat and see to his hooves. Despite her familiarity with the routine, everything felt disconnected, like she was watching someone else prepare the horse.
After she saddled Bane, she suited up in her fireproof gear. Usually she hated wearing her helmet because it was hot and stuffy. Today she hoped Dr. B would keep the pre-game instructions short so she could put it on. That way, she wouldn’t have to work on keeping her expression stoic.
She picked up her pellet rifle, then left the barn and rode Bane across the grassy field. The area was about the size of a football field, but felt larger, perhaps because hopeful bushes and saplings dotted the land. They wouldn’t last long. If the horses didn’t trample or eat them, the practice dragons—small remote helicopters that shot out fire—would eventually burn them.
Booker had already set out an assortment of civilian-shaped plywood pieces around the field. They represented bystanders that the Slayers were supposed to avoid killing during the course of practice. Each fallen or damaged cut-out cost the team a hundred points from their score, and the losing team had to muck out the stalls afterward.
At the far end of the field, Dr. B surveyed the practice from the silo headquarters. He controlled one heli-dragon while Theo, Dr. B’s resident tech genius, ran the other. Theo was a twenty-something guy who took way too much pleasure in trying to blister the Slayers, a fault Dr. B never fully paid attention to.
Tori rode to where the Slayers were gathered and took a spot beside Rosa. She was petite with long dark hair, gentle brown eyes, and features that made her look closer to fourteen than her seventeen years. One would never assume she could shoot a rifle with deadly accuracy, which was why the Slayers always used her when they needed to case out a place.
“Are you doing okay?” Rosa asked Tori.
“Yeah,” Tori said.
“Are you lying?” Rosa asked. She worried too much, which balanced Bess out, who didn’t worry about anything.
“A little,” Tori said.
“We all still love you.”
Hardly the truth, since Lilly had never loved her in the first place. But Tori didn’t argue the point. Rosa thought the best of everyone, and at the moment, Tori apprec
iated that quality.
Bess and Ryker were mounted and talking intently, oblivious to Tori’s arrival. Bess’s crush was understandable. Ryker was custom-made to invite crushes: black hair, blue eyes and the ability to fly. He was almost as attractive as Jesse.
Tori inwardly sighed. She had to stop thinking things like that. He wanted a platonic relationship, and anyway, she couldn’t afford to be distracted today.
Jesse joined the group a minute later, stationing his horse by Willow’s and Lilly’s. The two girls were both blonde, but their similarities ended there. Willow’s hair was long and curly. Lilly’s was bleached with a new blue streak. Willow was tall and soft-spoken. Lilly was about as short as Rosa, although no one would have ever described her as petite. Petite implied delicate and sweet. Lilly was an in-your-face, flip-you-off, prima donna.
Ryker looked at Jesse, tilting his head in question. “Dude, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” There was only a little stiffness in Jesse’s voice.
Everyone turned their attention to him. He seemed calm enough, ready to fight dragons and crush opponents.
Ryker’s eyes flicked in Tori’s direction. “Oh,” he said with understanding.
Which made everyone turn to Tori.
“Did I miss something?” Willow asked, her gaze bouncing between Ryker and Jesse.
“It’s a counterpart thing,” Bess said. “You can’t expect counterparts to make sense or explain themselves to anyone else.”
“I wish I had a counterpart,” Willow said.
“We all wish we did,” Rosa said sadly.
Ryker and Jesse were the only counterparts left. The thought made the group seem so small and doomed. They’d lost half their fighters.
Kody was the last to join the group. He’d been by a pile of firewood, tossing the things up in the air and sending freezing blasts at them that sent them spinning; his own personal warm-ups. He could also send out fireballs but didn’t do that nearly as often. Fire didn’t damage dragons.
He gave the group one of his usual smiles. “All right, y’all. Ready to get her done?” Perhaps it was his southern charm, but Kody seemed perpetually optimistic and good-natured. Which was probably fortunate for the guys he went to school with. Even without his Slayer powers, Kody had enough muscle to do serious damage to anyone who got on his bad side.
No one said more because Dr. B was driving up on a souped-up golf cart, one that went so fast it could probably be classified as a small jeep. He lurched the thing to a stop in front of them and climbed out. “Everyone here? Good.” He picked up the tablet that he used to take notes about their performances. “I have some things to go over before we start.”
The Slayers turned and maneuvered their horses into a tighter circle around him.
“The bug on Senator Ethington’s phone has provided some information of note. It appears the government has granted Venezuela permission to perform some military exercises near the east coast.”
Several Slayers groaned. They’d already learned that Overdrake had allies in Venezuela who’d help him, most likely by providing troops.
“Overdrake also has ties to Colombia,” Dr. B went on, “and they’ll be delivering shipments of supposed goods on the west coast at the same time Venezuela is sending ships to the east coast. The tentative date is the end of April. It may or may not be the time Overdrake chooses to attack, but we’ll need to be ready, just in case.” His gaze turned to Tori. “Hopefully we’ll be able to record Senator Ethington saying something that gives us a reason to alert your father of his doings, but so far he’s been careful to speak using euphemisms.”
Dr. B turned his attention back to the others. “The good news is that Senator Ethington’s relationship with Overdrake is becoming strained. In his own words, he’s tired of Overdrake acting like he’s his boss. Perhaps before long, the senator will be less willing to carry out his bidding.”
Lilly snorted. “He’s a politician. That means he has no backbone.”
Usually Tori let those sorts of comments slide. She wasn’t in the mood today. “Honestly, Lilly, do you ever think about what you’re saying?”
Lilly looked at her with surprise. “Since when did you become a Senator Ethington fan?”
“I’m not talking about Senator Ethington. I’m talking about all the other politicians, including my father, who have a backbone.”
And that was pretty much how practice started.
After three rounds of fighting against the heli-dragons, Tori had spent a total of about fifteen minutes alive. The rest of the time she sat out as one of the dead. Her emotions were making her careless. She’d only managed to shoot her dragon once, and truth be told, that was because Ryker had disabled the chains and Kevlar vest from the dragon, allowing her to get the shot in before the dragon could kill her.
Before the start of round four, the Slayers rode their horses to the troughs that dotted the playing field. The other Slayers usually let Tori have a trough to herself since Bane tended to nip at the other horses, but this time, Jesse rode up.
General, Jesse’s horse, kept a good distance from Bane while he got his fill. Jesse took a drink from his water bottle as he considered Tori. “Are you all right?”
He no longer had the right to ask her those sorts of questions. “I’m fine,” she said airily.
He screwed the lid of his water bottle back on. “You’re not concentrating.”
“Oh, I’m concentrating. I’m just concentrating on all the reasons I’m mad at you.”
He sighed—the sort of sigh he’d used when she’d first joined the Slayers and he thought she was missing some horribly obvious point. “I know you don’t want to take instructions from me right now, but I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to die during a real attack: You’ve got to be able to set your feelings aside when you fight.”
“Yeah, that’s one of the top reasons I’m mad at you. You don’t have a hard time setting your feelings aside.”
“I have plenty of trouble.” He tucked his water bottle back into his saddle. “But when it’s important, I at least make an attempt.”
He might have continued his pep talk, but Willow rode up to their trough. She pulled off her helmet, letting her curly hair spill out onto her shoulders. “I’d like to make an official complaint.”
Willow wasn’t one to complain—at least not seriously, and Tori wasn’t sure whether she was serious now. “What’s wrong?”
Willow pulled out her water bottle and took a swig. “I’m tired of being killed. Just once, I’d like to do some damage to the dragon before it eviscerates me.”
“Join the club,” Tori said.
“It’s not the same,” Willow protested. “You die in the sky because the dragon attacked you before you could kill it. I wander around aimlessly, following after the rest of you, until Dr. B or Theo decides to terrorize me with their helicopters of death.”
“Willow—” Jesse started.
She raised a finger at him. “Don’t you dare tell me I’m a valuable team member. My life doesn’t seem valuable to anyone but me.”
“Willow—” Tori tried.
Willow didn’t let her finish either. “And, Tori, I know you’re busy, but you’ve got to stop missing practice. Every time you’re not here, Ryker sends me out as bait to draw out the dragons.”
Tori hadn’t realized this. She looked at Jesse for confirmation. “He does?”
Jesse shrugged. “I’m sure he wouldn’t do it in a real battle.”
“Then he shouldn’t do it in practice.” Willow sent a glare over her shoulder in her cousin’s direction. “Seriously, what is even the point of having me practice? I can’t do anything. Tell Dr. B to let me do civilian triage on the sidelines.”
Dr. B had assured Willow that eventually her extra power would manifest itself. But a month later, it still hadn’t happened. Tori supposed all the Slayers had begun to wonder what none of them would admit: Maybe Willow didn’t have an extra power.
/> Bane flicked his mane in annoyance. He didn’t like the other horses standing too close. Tori patted his neck to calm him down. “This time you won’t die,” she told Willow. “Your assignment next round will be to stay by Rosa and protect her.”
Rosa could heal burns. In a battle, she would be what kept a lot of them alive. They usually had her stay far away from the dragon.
“Protect her how?” Willow moaned. “She’s a better fighter than I am.”
“Not true,” Jesse said. “You’re a good fighter. Rosa is just more experienced. And she became experienced by practicing. That’s why we’re here: to get better.”
Willow huffed dramatically. “Fine.” She twisted her hair into a coil and put her helmet back on. “I’ll go stick by Rosa and wait for the helicopters of doom to find me again.” She gave her horse a nudge and trotted back to where the others were assembling.
Jesse leaned toward Tori and lowered his voice. “In a real battle, have Willow work crowd control.”
“She’s not that bad,” Tori said, immediately defensive.
Jesse tilted his chin at her. “I’m saying that because I don’t want her in over her head. I don’t want her to get hurt.”
He was right, but Tori still felt the need to defend Willow. Not that long ago she’d been the new girl without combat experience or a decent power to help her fight. “She just needs time to get up to speed.”
Jesse didn’t comment on that. She knew what he was thinking anyway. They might not have much time.
“She can protect me while I try to take control of a dragon,” Tori offered.
Jesse shook his head. “We need you in the air fighting.”
A helicopter shot above the trees and hovered there, ending the conversation. Round four had officially started. It was Jesse’s turn to lead the teams until the second heli-dragon showed up.