by Julie Hall
Whoops and howls came from the other group, who had dispatched their demon first and apparently—rather than helping us—had stood back to enjoy the show. Stephen stepped forward and slapped me on the back . . . hard. I forced myself not to stumble.
“Well done, Logan. It looks like my work here is complete,” he said with his thick French accent.
I smiled back at him. I was going to miss my friendly crusader.
He grimaced. “Sorry about your face, though. You’re going to have a hard time getting a girl to take you someday looking like that.” He shook his head. “It’s too bad too, because you used to be so good-looking.”
Surely they could replace my tooth. Right?
Stephen bent over and started laughing.
“Don’t worry, Logan, we’ll get you to the healing center and get you fixed up right away.”
“Thanks,” I said, hearing a lisp in my voice and rolling my eyes at the howl of laughter it brought from not only Stephen, but Alrik as well. I hoped I’d live this down one day.
Author Commentary: Chapter 6
JulieHallAuthor.com/logan-6
Chapter 7
“Don’t look behind you, the Harbinger of Death is headed this way,” Alrik whisper-yelled in the cafeteria.
“Alrik,” Kevin reprimanded, “she can probably hear you.”
“I think he’s counting on it,” I piped in.
“Which is why I always choose not to entertain his antics,” Shannon said as she stepped up to our table.
I tilted my head back so I could see her. Her hair was up in a tight bun, like always, not a single wrinkle on her business-like attire, while a very faint glow emanated from her.
Shannon often interacted with the hunters. Kind of like one of the overseers of the business-end of our operation. Many of our missions and orders came through her, although I’d put money down that she’d never been in an actual battle before. Yet, despite her somewhat-stuffy demeanor and her dislike of smiles in general, in a weird way she was growing on me.
Sure, she wasn’t the cuddliest of angels, but she took her job seriously and worked hard, and I respected that.
“What can we help you with today, Shannon?” I asked with my head still tilted backwards. She frowned down on me in disapproval. My smile broadened.
“Logan, if you’re finished eating I have a new trainee to introduce you to.”
“Fresh meat? Oh yeah, I’m definitely in!” I jumped out of my chair, ready to meet my next mentee. I’d already trained two other hunters, so I held a certain amount of confidence now about my assignments. “See you guys later,” I waved to the table as I turned to follow Shannon.
“Don’t forget to bring him around later so we can place our bets,” Alrik bellowed when I was on the other side of the busy room.
I winced when Shannon came to a sudden stop.
Thanks, Alrik.
I glanced over my shoulder and he was doubled over, laughing at the predicament he’d purposefully put me in.
Shannon did a slow turn to face me.
“Tell me you all aren’t still mistreating our new hunters.”
I held my hands up in front of me; a look of pure innocence sculpted my face, “Mistreating? Noooooo. No one is doing that.”
“Hazing is not allowed.”
“I can promise you, Shannon, we are not hazing the new hunters.” Nope. We were just taking bets on how long they’d last on their first day before puking their guts out. In fact, it was kind of a bonding experience since it had happened to all of us. I grinned broadly at Shannon when she lifted one brow at me.
“You’d better not be. I expect more from you, Logan.”
I cleared my throat and nodded once. I couldn’t help but feel like a scolded child. Alrik was probably dying of laughter right now.
“So, the new guy?” I prompted to keep us on track.
“Right. His name is Morgan. Let’s go so I can introduce you two and you can get started.” Back to business. At least she was predictable.
When we walked into the training gym a few minutes later, someone was wailing on the punching bag. His dark mop of black hair was slicked to his forehead with sweat. I immediately went into mentor mode and began to assess his stance and movements.
I was somewhat impressed.
“Morgan,” Shannon raised her voice to be heard over his fists smashing into the bag.
The guy stopped his jabs and turned his head to look at us. He lifted his chin in greeting as he started unwrapping his hands. Once done he tossed them into a gym bag and made his way to us.
“Hello there, lovely Shannon. It’s good to see you again so soon. Hey there, mate,” his British-accented voice rang strong as he addressed me and held out his hand, “My name is Morgan. So, you’re to be my task master, eh?”
I waited a beat before grasping his hand. Not because of anything he said or did, but simply because the empathy link still made me a little uneasy.
This guy was an open book. All I got from him was a laid-back vibe laced with mild curiosity.
“Hey, man. Yeah, I’m Logan,” I pumped his hand in return. I glanced toward the punching bag and then back at him, “Looks like you have a little head-start over most of the new hunters.”
Morgan lifted an arm and scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, I know my way around a gym.”
“Morgan was on the cusp of being a professional soccer player,” Shannon informed me.
“That would be football where I’m from, luv.”
Shannon tipped her head in acknowledgement.
“Really?” My interest was piqued. “I was a pro-surfer for about two minutes before I died.” I chuckled at the career that never was.
“Hey mate, that’s terrific,” he held out a fist for a bump and I knocked knuckles with him.
We were going to get along just fine.
I stretched a gloved hand down to help Morgan up off the ground. It had taken me a full five minutes longer than usual to best him today. Training him was almost effortless.
He picked up techniques quickly, worked hard, learned how to materialize and dematerialize objects faster than anyone I’d ever seen—myself included—and on top of that was easy going and quick to laugh.
We’d hit it off immediately and he was quickly becoming not just my trainee, but my friend as well.
“Good job, you,” Morgan said as I helped haul him to his feet. He dematerialized his sparring helmet, which had covered his face, and I did the same. Because he was so proficient in materializing, I’d moved him to only working with weapons and armor he could create himself. His breathing was slightly elevated from exertion, but still far more controlled than either of my other trainees at this point.
“I should be saying the same to you. You made me work a little for that one.”
“Oh, get off it,” he shoved my shoulder good-naturedly.
My laugh was cut off by a metallic blur and then I was lying flat on the mat with the wind punched out of my lungs, staring at the ceiling rafters.
What just happened?
A weight on top of me was making it hard to breathe. A hunter, covered from head to toe in armor, except for a white-blonde pony-tail shooting out of the top of her helmet—well she’d obviously made an adjustment to the standard issue gear—was sitting on my chest. Not straddling me or even trying to hold me down. But sitting on my chest . . . with her legs crossed in front of her . . . and laughing.
I shook my head and then gave Kaitlin a good shove. She tumbled off me to the mat, but continued to laugh as I caught my breath.
“I told you I’d best you eventually, Logan.”
I lumbered to my feet and pointed a finger at her, “That was cheating.”
She rolled on the ground like a puppy, giggling like a maniac. “Yeah, like demons fight fair,” she sat up suddenly and threw her arms in the air and yelled, “I win.”
“Brat,” I rolled my eyes at her antics even as I cracked a smile. Kaitlin had an infectious persona
lity that was hard to not go along with.
Finally gaining control of herself, she rolled to a sitting position and dematerialized her armor, leaving her in typical workout clothes—tight-fitting black leggings and a yellow sports tank. She resembled a bumblebee.
“You have to admit, that was pretty good.”
Before I could answer her, Morgan’s deep British voice cut in, “I’m not sure if he’s capable of admitting defeat, luv. It’s not hardwired into him. But anytime you want to spar with me, I’d be a willing participant. I might even concede defeat.”
Watching Kaitlin’s eyes widen, I coughed to cover my laugh. Morgan was a shameless flirt, but he’d just laid it on thick. My California girl was speechless. Not something that happened often.
I glanced back and forth between the two of them.
Morgan stood in full armor—except for his helmet—his arms crossed over his chest, feet spread wide, and a cocky smile on his face while he boldly ogled Kaitlin.
Kaitlin sat cross-legged on the padded mat. Leaning back on her arms she stared up at him with rounded eyes and parted lips.
The longer the silence stretched on, the greater my urge grew to slowly back out of the gym and leave the two of them alone.
This was an interesting development.
“Do you need a hand up, luv?” Morgan stretched his arm out so that his hand was within Kaitlin’s reach. She did her best impression of a deer in headlights. A deep rumble of laughter finally burst from my chest. It snapped Kaitlin out of whatever trance Morgan had put her in.
Maybe it was the accent that had gotten her? Maybe it was more?
She cleared her throat and avoided eye contact with Morgan as she got to her feet—without his assistance—and immediately started playing with the end of her ponytail.
“Don’t be a jerk,” Kaitlin growled under her breath as my laughter subsided. Her eyes narrowed as she said it, which recharged my amusement.
“Logan, are you going to introduce me to this lovely bird of yours?”
Kaitlin turned on me, “Did he basically just call me a ‘chick’ and insinuate I was your possession?”
“Yes. He totally just did that,” I said. Then, seeing shock on Kaitlin’s face, quickly followed with, “But, I think it’s just a British thing. He didn’t mean any harm by it.”
“Yes,” Morgan jumped in, clearly not bothered at all by Kaitlin’s ire, “please excuse my coarse language, lovely friend of Logan’s whose name I still don’t know. I’ve spent entirely too much time with a bunch of rough-around-the-edges male hunters and it has obviously affected me in a most negative way. A thousand apologies.” Morgan hammed it up by bowing at the waist to Kaitlin. Her brow furrowed in return.
“Is he for real?” Kaitlin asked me, jerking a thumb, but not her gaze, in his direction, “Does he talk like that all the time?”
“No, not usually. I think you’re getting special treatment.”
“Oh, lucky me.”
“Hey, mate, what kind of wingman are you? Bad form,” Morgan complained.
“Sorry man, I didn’t realize my duties as a mentor also encompassed wingman.”
“When a beautiful lady who isn’t already spoken for is involved, it’s implied.”
Kaitlin cut her hand through the air, “Okay, enough with the fake charm. Logan, introduce us already so I can go back to ignoring him and spend some time with you. I have an afternoon off today and I’d planned on gracing you with my presence.”
I couldn’t hide the amused smile on my face as I made the introduction. “Kaitlin, this is Morgan, my new trainee. Morgan, this is Kaitlin, an old friend of mine not just from here, but Earth as well.”
“Well, that hardly did me justice,” Morgan grumbled.
“Nice to meet you . . . ah . . . kinda, Morgan. Now I’m planning on stealing your mentor for the rest of the day. Have a nice afterlife.” Kaitlin grabbed my arm and tried to haul me from the gym, which she found was a fruitless endeavor, but was entertaining to both Morgan and myself.
Kaitlin was becoming a great huntress, but I had almost a hundred pounds on her. Unless she did another sneak attack, she wasn’t going to be able to make me budge unless I wanted to be moved. And messing with her was way more amusing than going along with her plan.
“Come on, you over-grown toddler,” Kaitlin grunted and jerked on my arm. I took half a step in her direction.
“You know, Kaitlin, I can’t leave Morgan all alone.”
“What?” she dropped both my arm and her jaw.
“Yeah, he’s my trainee. I have to look out for him now. He’s going to have to come with us if you want to hang out.” Morgan’s smile broadened and Kaitlin scowled at me.
“You’re joking, right?”
“’Fraid not, my dear friend. It’s just the right thing to do. I can’t leave poor Morgan to fend for himself when he’s so new here.” My straight-faced delivery testified to my ability to cloak my emotions, as inside I howled with laughter. Morgan certainly didn’t need help making friends, but she didn’t know that.
Kaitlin played with her ponytail as she looked back and forth between us. Morgan dropped his head forward a bit as if rejected, and gazed at Kaitlin with puppy-dog eyes.
I remained stone-faced because I knew if I moved a muscle, I would break down with laughter. I’m pretty sure Morgan was going for the see-how-pathetic-and-humble-I-am expression, but he just reminded me of a cartoon character.
“But, Logan,” Kaitlin whined, “I only have an afternoon and evening to hang out. Do we really have to bring him with us?”
“Standing right here, listening to every word you say, luv.”
Kaitlin shot him a withering look. “I don’t know,” she said to me, her voice lowering slightly, “you know I don’t trust guys with beards and accents.”
“Since when?”
“Since now.”
“Hey, this isn’t a beard. Just a bit of scruff. I can shave it off if that’s what you’d prefer.” Morgan chimed in.
Kaitlin rolled her eyes. “Fine. He can tag along,” she pointed a finger at Morgan, “But just so you know, I’m going to pretend you aren’t here.”
“Oh,” Morgan perked up, “a challenge. I like it,” he rubbed his hands together, “Let the games begin.”
“See!” Kaitlin turned on me, “That’s exactly what I was worried about. Have a talk with your boy here about proper American manners. I’ll meet you at the pond outside the gym when you guys have cleaned up.”
“Luv, I’m British. We invented manners. Or didn’t you know?” Morgan said and winked at her.
“You got it,” I cheerfully answered and held my fist out for Morgan to bump without looking in his direction.
“Men,” she grumbled and then stomped from the training gym, letting the door bang unnecessarily loud on her way out.
Kaitlin rarely got this flustered around guys, but somehow Morgan had quickly gotten under her skin. I’d let Morgan work out whether that was going to turn into a good or bad thing.
“Oh, I like her,” Morgan said, his eyes still fixed on the gym door, “That one has spunk and spirit.” There was a gleam in his eye that gave me a slight pause in my decision to force the two of them to spend time together. I liked Morgan, and wanted Kaitlin to like him, too. I wanted my friends to get along. Still, she was like a sister and I didn’t want Morgan playing with her emotions.
“Man, she’s basically my oldest friend and like a sister to me. You act inappropriately towards her and I’ll have to break something important. We clear?”
Morgan’s eyes drifted to mine, and a smile lit his face. “Crystal, mate.”
Author Commentary: Chapter 7
JulieHallAuthor.com/logan-7
Chapter 8
I crept along the deserted driveway, each step calculated to avoid making noise. It was late in the afternoon and the sun hung at the horizon’s edge. Our rendezvous point was a mile behind us and we had about another hour to scope out the old house.
I shot Morgan a look that clearly said shut up, but he ignored me. We’d been training together for several months and Morgan was flying through the program. He’d passed the gauntlet several weeks ago and had already experienced his first few missions on Earth. He wore a sword secured at his waist, but archery was what he really excelled at. His bow was slung across his chest and a quiver full of arrows strapped to his back.
I’d never seen anyone’s arrow slice the air with such accuracy. The more he trained, the faster he became at notching and aiming. When we were at the archery range, his movements blurred from his frenzied pace and then I’d look up to see he’d hit the bull’s-eye on not just his own target, but the others lined up to the right and left as well. A few times a week he trained with one of our archery specialists because he’d far surpassed my skill level with that weapon.
I’d started calling him ‘Katniss’ every now and then just to mess with him. It was one of the few things that actually got under his skin.
We moved slowly, scouting an area of reported increased demon activity. An abandoned house some kids had used to conduct fake séances not realizing they’d attract the attention of a horde of demons instead of Casper the friendly ghost.
Morgan, however, seemed more interested in pumping me for details about Kaitlin than the mission. At first, I was amused at Kaitlin’s response to Morgan—interest covered with wary suspicion. It had been entertaining to watch Morgan turn into somewhat of a performing monkey the few times Kaitlin had come to visit. Now, it was just plain annoying.
Morgan continued peppering me with questions as we crept up to the property.
“Dude,” I glared at him, “Not the time, alright?”
He winced, “Yeah, sorry mate. You’re right, I should be taking this more seriously. Okay boss, following your lead.”
I nodded and started forward, but jerked to a stop when a shadowy figure crossed in front of the ransacked house. Morgan and I crouched low to the ground to avoid being seen. Our mission was supposed to be strictly recon. We were not there to engage any demons.
