by Kelly Hall
It would take Rebekah a while to figure out who was loyal to who. “Any information would help. If you know something, anything, I’m trying to figure out why the group went on a secret mission. It wasn’t at all like Merik.”
Doc gathered the tape and bandages. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind, and if something comes to me, I’ll let you know.” He turned to put away his supplies, and Rebekah wondered if he was the only medical staff on hand at the academy.
Rebekah and Sister Frankie walked out of the infirmary, leaving Doc where they’d found him.
Rebekah gestured toward Doc’s office. “I couldn’t help but notice he didn’t have an assistant. Are there any nurses here?”
Frankie shook her head. “There are supposed to be two on shift, but since we are a small school with only fifty-seven—I’m sorry, I suppose there are forty-six trainees now.” Her voice broke a bit, and she tried to hold off the tears. “Since we’re a smaller school, the Church cut that part of the funding. Only the larger facilities have more nurses. Luckily, many of the trainees who are interested in learning actually volunteer. They achieve rank points for helping out with lunch and other duties.”
Sister Frankie led her down a long hall and through the cafeteria.
Rebekah reached up and rubbed the dull ache in her chest. Each physician was supposed to have at least three appointed nurses, if not four. It wasn’t that she didn’t like getting the trainees involved, but if there was a disaster and all of the medics were injured, the doctor would need backup. Considering the last attack, she now had to think that something like that was possible. Thankfully, her academies were heavily guarded and secure. Or at least, they were supposed to be.
“What else are they pinching pennies on?” Rebekah had a gut feeling it was worse than it seemed. She noticed a few issues with the building, like cracks in the sheetrock and moldy ceiling tiles.
Frankie was glad to report what she could to Rebekah and had to remind herself that the younger-looking woman was actually her senior and her superior. She had high hopes that something might be done to help them. All of Merik’s attempts had been thwarted.
“They’ve got our cook on a specific menu, and they’ve cut back on her supply budget, and it sure puts Lulu in a bad mood.”
“Lulu is the cook?” Rebekah hoped she would be able to remember everyone’s names.
“Yes. Laura Pembroke. She has a strong personality, so upsetting her… well, I don’t know quite how to put it, but let’s just say you either love her or hate her. And vice versa.”
“I like her already,” Ignis said, approaching with his hands in his pockets, looking much more relaxed with his suit coat missing and his shirt collar undone. He had even rolled up his sleeves.
As if he would ever attempt manual labor, Rebekah thought.
He noticed Rebekah looking and pushed one of his sleeves up higher. “Let’s meet her, shall we?”
Sister Frankie tensed as she opened the door to the kitchen in time to hear a crash.
“Son-of-a-biscuit-eating mother,” came a voice from across the room.
Sister Frankie turned red as a beet. She leaned in close to Rebekah and Ignis and shielded her mouth to whisper, “She’s really suffering with the deaths.”
“Obviously,” Ignis said under his breath as he and Rebekah exchanged a look.
They continued in behind the sister, who stopped before getting too far inside the door. “Lulu, I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
The tiny woman lifted her head up from behind the counter.
“Well, that’s just great,” Lulu mumbled, causing the sister to grow red with embarrassment as she tucked a loose hair into her hat.
The old woman stood, and once righted, she squared her shoulders and frowned at the sight of them. “Who’s this, and can they get me a decent oven mitt for shite’s sake?” The older woman’s attitude was at least three feet taller than she was.
“This is Rebekah Ward, and Ignis—I’m sorry I didn’t catch your last name.” Sister Frankie gave him an apologetic look.
“I’m kind of a one-name wonder.” Ignis only used his last name when legally necessary.
“Who is this guy? Some kind of boy band reject? Ginger Slice?” Lulu wiped her hands on her apron and extended one to Rebekah, who promptly took it and offered a smile.
“No, ma’am. This one can’t carry a tune to save his life.” She turned her eyes to her friend whose face was now as red as his hair.
Appalled, Ignis gave her a sour look. “Like I haven’t heard you in the shower.” He gave her a nudge.
The woman’s hand tightened on Rebekah’s. “Are you here to replace the commander?”
“No, ma’am. I’m not here to replace anyone. I will be filling in for a while, at least until I figure out what happened to him.”
Lulu let the Huntress go and turned back to her counter. “It’s a damned shame for sure. He was a good kid with a big heart. He deserved better. They all did. That Paul, he was a ray of sunshine.” The old woman lifted her apron to catch a tear. “It was nice meeting you, but I better get back to work. These kids will be trying to eat each other’s arms off if we’re not careful.” The old woman walked to the oven to take out another tray of bread as she sniffled.
Rebekah made a mental note to check into the situations at the other facilities. Their needs were supposed to be met. Budgets were in place for a reason, but cutting too many corners was ridiculous. She didn’t want her trainees pampered, but if she had to hold up her end of the arrangement, then by God, so did the Church.
“Sister Frankie, I think I’m ready to meet my future hunters.”
“Hopefully they don’t take after the cook,” Ignis muttered and nearly jumped out of his skin as Lulu’s voice caught up with them.
“I heard that Ginger Slice.”
Rebecca laughed. “Sounds like you just got a new nickname.”
Chapter 3
The young trainees sat in the gym, not sure what to do. Morning training wasn’t the same without their commanders, and though Canter could understand everyone mourning, he didn’t understand the lack of motivation.
Someone or something had killed their friends and leaders, including Paul Landon, who was not only the best trainee in camp, but everyone’s friend.
Canter glanced around at them. He wasn’t a sit around kind of guy. There was far too much to be done and life was short. “What is everyone just standing around for? Merik wouldn’t have wanted us to sit around sulking, and Paul would be handing out beatdowns. You all know it.”
Jarreth looked up from the floor. “There isn’t anyone in charge. No one knows what to do. I guess they’re waiting for the Church to get off their asses and appoint us new leaders.” Jarreth lifted a shoulder in a shrug and turned his attention back to his phone. He was perfectly fine spending the day slumped down against the training room wall.
Delilah wasn’t in any hurry to move either and found resting against Jarreth, back to back, while she stared at her own tiny screen to be just fine by her.
“I can’t believe you two,” Canter barked. “Are you really just going to sit there? You’re squad leaders. Shit, make an effort!”
Jarreth looked up at his best friend and realized the guy was coming undone. He’d been the closest to Paul out of anyone. The two were more fellow hunters than best bros like he and Jarreth, but training with someone to fight for the same cause took a certain amount of respect and admiration.
“What do you want us to do?” Jarreth asked, nudging Delilah. When she sat up, she took her warmth with her. Seeing the outrage in Canter’s eyes, he knew he couldn’t let him down.
“We’re hunters,” Canter said. “We should be training. Not only for the cause but because we’re going to have to go out and find who did this! Don’t you want justice? Don’t you want revenge?” Canter turned and raised his powerful voice. “Don’t any of you give a damn?”
The chatter around the room stopped instantly as he gaine
d their attention. Jarreth stood, and though he’d been guilty of slacking too, he had Canter’s back. By the way the crowd of trainees was complaining, he knew his friend was going to need all the help he could get.
Delilah got to her feet and dusted off her standard-issue sweats that all the trainees were wearing for morning workout, courtesy of the Church. “Come on, he’s right. We should figure this out.”
Grady Gimble stepped up, his arm still slung around the short blonde at his side. “Do you seriously think any of us feel like fighting? Our commanders are dead, and one of our entire squads. They were our friends.”
Katie Kelly, the short blonde who was Grady’s girlfriend and worshipped the ground he walked on, furrowed her brows. “Yeah, you’re not the only one who looked up to Merik and James and wanted to be like them; or who lost someone you cared about. Can’t we take a day to grieve?”
Canter met her sour gaze. “That’s just it. How long are we going to sit around with our heads down? Paul wouldn’t approve of this. Merik and James would be passing out demerits left and right, and meanwhile, we have an enemy, someone who handed us this pain, and we’re taking it sitting down. We should be channeling it into our training.”
“And we will,” Grady said. “When the Church decides to appoint us someone new. Until then, I’m considering this an extended holiday.”
One of Grady’s thick-headed minions slapped his hand, and a few others voiced their agreement. They didn’t care about Paul, Merik, or James, or any of the others who were killed. They only wanted time to chill.
Jarreth patted Canter on the back, noticing the guy’s strong shoulders were tense. Unease rolled through his stomach. This wasn’t over. Not by a longshot.
Sure enough, Canter walked over and got in Grady’s face. “Vacation is over. In case you’ve forgotten, we run on a system, and since I’ve got the highest rank points out of the rest of you, I’m calling the shots until someone else shows up. We still have three squads and three squad leaders, so there’s no reason to stop training.” He placed two fingers in his lips and whistled so loud, Grady winced. “Line up and prepare for drills.”
Grady rolled his eyes but turned to see the others falling into their lines. He fell into the ranks and joined them.
Delilah looked toward Canter. “I just have one question. What do we do about him?” She tilted her head, gesturing across the room where the new recruit stood against the wall. He was at least six-foot-three with so many muscles, she wasn’t sure if he was born or built.
Canter turned to see the new guy, who had managed to keep a low profile. “He can fall into my line. Were there no others in that squad?”
“No, just him,” Delilah answered. “The others all perished in the attack.”
“How come he wasn’t with them?” Canter tried to keep his voice low, but it was so deep and strong, even whispering did no good.
The young man pushed off the wall where he’d been standing and moseyed across the room toward the others. “Because I wasn’t invited.”
“Lucky you,” Jarreth said, his jaw so tight it cracked. He turned and looked toward his friend and wondered if he were thinking the same thing. How had the new kid managed to be left behind on a mission when the rest of his squad was slaughtered?
“I’m Canter Jackson.” Canter extended his hand and the young man took it. “Fall in and we’ll get started.”
At the very moment he spoke, the east door to the training center opened, and like a force of nature, a dark-haired huntress clad in black leather stepped into the room with Sister Frankie behind her.
“Hello, mama.” Jarreth whistled softly, and Delilah turned her head to see that he was locked in on the beautiful woman, who looked like she could take any trainee in the room down to the mat with one arm tied behind her back.
Jarreth would gladly let her.
The woman had so much confidence and power that Delilah didn’t know whether to hate her or worship her.
Before Sister Frankie could introduce anyone, the woman walked up to Canter and looked him up and down as she circled around him. He wasn’t sure if he had overstepped his bounds or not, but then the woman’s lips turned up in a smile, putting him at ease.
“It’s good to see that someone is brave enough to step forward.” Her steel gray eyes panned the others, and then she cleared her throat. “Fall in line with the others.”
Canter put his fist on his heart and gave a nod of respect as he stepped over to stand with his squad.
Rebekah looked across the training room and couldn’t believe how young they all looked. In her days, people matured much faster and had already put away interests in childish things, but the world was a much different place now. Through the years, she’d seen it all and learned it was better to accept people for who they are. Even if they looked like a bunch of college kids who belonged at a kegger, Merik must have seen something in them.
“My name is Rebekah Ward, and I’ll be taking over for Merik until I can appoint a new commander. Until then, you are expected to carry on as usual. I’m aware that this is a difficult time, emotions are high, and we’ll no doubt shed many tears in memory of our fallen, but this is also a time to prepare and to test our strengths. We will, no doubt, feel this loss again. This is a never-ending war we fight, and while I’m aware that it is usually few and far between, we do lose our brothers and sisters. This is why you pledge your life to the cause and give your vows to the Church to protect humanity.”
Rebekah felt a sting of hypocrisy. She had sacrificed part of herself as well, and immortality was not easy. Having to watch her entire family die, to see the blood spilling from a fallen hunter, holding their hands as they took their last breath and remembering the gleam in their eyes as they stilled forever. There was nothing like the guilt she carried, knowing hers never would.
“I give you my vow that we’ll work to find whoever did this. I will give Merik and the others justice and make sure they didn’t die in vain.”
She glanced across the room, spotting the six-foot-something Angel who stood to her left, looking bored to tears. She hoped he wouldn’t be a problem. Little shit probably has a chip on his shoulder like all those born an Angel before him. She wasn’t sure if this one had been here long enough to be knocked down a peg and realize that his training style was totally different than theirs for killing the shifters and vamps.
She turned her eyes to the strong male who had taken charge. He was a well-built, handsome young man; broad-shouldered with dark skin and a head full of soft, tight curls. His dark brown eyes held so much wisdom that he seemed the oldest of his peers, even though he didn’t look it.
Then there was the girl, the one with hair the color of red crayons who couldn’t make up her mind whether she wanted to stare at Rebekah or the handsome young man leading the line next to her, who was painfully overconfident.
He had licked his lips so many times since Rebekah arrived that she was sure he was dying for a taste, but she’d sworn off blonds hundreds of years ago. Or maybe he was dehydrated? She smirked at the thought. The kids eyes lit up a little. Brother.
“You three. Please come forward. The rest of you, take a moment to gather yourselves, and put your emotions in check.”
Jarreth raked his hand through his hair as he sized up the woman. He squared his shoulders as he sauntered up to her. She couldn’t be much older than him, even though she carried herself like she was the Immortal Huntress. He’d have no trouble making her melt. All he needed was a little time alone, and she would be purring like a kitten.
Rebekah studied the trio. “I’ve called you forward as it seems you’re the leaders of your squads?” She turned her eyes to Canter.
“Yes, I’m Canter Jackson. There was another squad, but the only one left is the new guy.” Canter gestured over his shoulder. “Pretty boy over there in my line.”
Jarreth scoffed, and Delilah rolled her eyes, knowing that Jarreth hated the idea that the new guy thought he was better than the
m all.
“His name is Aziel Smith,” Rebekah responded, her voice deadpan.
Jarreth leaned in close. “What kind of name is Aziel, anyway?”
Rebekah turned, glaring at the cocky blond. “It means God is my strength. What is your name, beefcake?”
The smile on Canter’s lips almost caused Rebekah to smile herself. The kid had a good heart. Hell, all of them probably did. What a war to be knee-deep in. For all of them.
“Jarreth Barnes.” He flashed a big smile and held his fist to his heart.
Rebekah looked him up and down. “What kind of name is Jarreth?”
Canter and Delilah snickered softly.
“One I’d love to hear you scream,” Jarreth mumbled, but she had already turned her attention to Delilah.
Delilah stepped forward, giving the hunters’ salute as well, with her fist held tightly against her left breast. “I’m Delilah Miller. Perhaps you know my mother, Sage Miller?”
She held her chin up proudly when speaking of her mother, but Rebekah hadn’t met the woman.
“Sorry, I haven’t had the pleasure, but I’m sure she’s a brave huntress like yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am. She was the highest ranked female trainee in the country in her final year.”
Jarreth had never heard Delilah speak so highly of her mother, and usually, the girl made no bones about despising the shrew. He leaned over her shoulder closer to Rebekah. “My father and my grandfather were both hunters too. It’s in my blood.”
Having hunters in your bloodline, though highly regarded, only gave someone a slight advantage since most of the attributes degenerated through the generations. That was why Rebekah’s blood was so important to make new hunters and why it was still used in the marking ceremony like it had been for centuries.
Blondie wasn’t going to let the girl get all of Rebekah’s attention.
Rebekah wondered how Delilah could be in love with him, which was so painfully obvious. She’d been there before, loving a man that she could never truly have to herself, tolerating him even though he could come across as a complete asshole. She knew there had to be some kind of redeeming quality in the young man, other than the fact that his looks rivaled the only angel in the room.
