by Amber Lynn
Chapter 9
Two little love birds sitting in a tree
“Shit,” I say under my breath. Trying to train Phee in pseudo combat mode is going to be impossible if Sam gets all hopped up on puppy testosterone at seeing her in danger, even when I am pulling punches.
Bring me a concrete block now, so I can bang my head against it and concuss myself silly. I think that is my only hope for not totally losing my mind. It seems my mental capacity has been on the line and in question a lot lately.
I take a few calming breaths and wish someone else would speak up. Clyde must have gotten a hold of all their tongues because nothing is happening.
“Okay. Sam this is Phee, Phee this is Sam. You can kiss and make out, or whatever it is normal mates do, after we at least get through your initial tests. When they are over we will go over some ground rules and then you are free to frolic in the wilderness,” I say trying to draw them out of the trance.
Neither one of them moves, so I walk over to Phee and shake her. “Josephina you are not here to stare at the boy all day. You want to get training remember?”
“What? Oh, training. Yes. That is why I am here. Lead on, master,” she says shaking her head and blushing lightly.
Why do things like this always have to happen to me? Some days I just wish I could stay in a coma until all the craziness in the world has been eradicated. The only problem with that is I would have to stay asleep for at least a few millennia. I wouldn't go crazy that way, but I sure as Hell would miss a lot of stuff, and it might actually be good stuff.
With her back on planet earth, I turn to Sam to see he is looking around the room in awe; much like his little girlfriend was five minutes ago. “Nice to see you again, Sam.”
“Hi, Slaughter. Thanks for letting me out of my cell for this. I can already tell that I am going to enjoy your teachings,” he replies glancing sideways at Phee. “I was starting to get a little bored staring at the plain wall all day.”
I am just sure my teachings are what he is really thinking about. At least now, I imagine he will try his hardest in the tests. He has to prove to his mate that he can provide for her and all that crap. The way our brains are wired sometimes disgusts me.
Why can't it be the girl that provides for the guy? I mean, we aren't all just a bunch of pansies. We can hunt and gather on our own. Even when there is all this equality talk, we are still the weaker species that needs protecting. It's a bunch of crap.
Feeling better after my mental purging that I hope nobody noticed, I return to the task at hand. Alex chuckles to himself, so I figure he at least picked up pieces of the rant. Oh well, if he doesn't already know it, he should.
“Okay my students, let's start with some speed testing. I want you to run around the track three times at full speed so I can get your times. Once we have those done, I will be placing objects in your paths and may have some of the guys help provide distractions while you run around another three times to see how they affect your times,” I instruct.
“Phee, I know we were going to do this alone, but I don't want you to be intimidated from doing your best. When I started out in this type of stuff, guys beat me in most of the categories, so don't get discouraged.”
Hey, I actually said something halfway nice and caring-like, instead of just screaming, “run” at them.
“No worries, Nyx. I got this one,” Phee says winking at me before taking her place at the starting line.
Good, that is exactly what I want to hear from her. With that attitude, the next hour of her life, which I plan on making hell, will possibly be livable. Things aren't looking so good for lover boy, who has taken his spot beside her and is having difficulties looking anywhere but at her.
I collect my stopwatch and am ready to get started. “Okay, on my mark,” I say moving to stand directly behind them. “Ready. Set. Go.”
Phee takes off and Sam is stuck for about two seconds before he takes off after her. Thinking it is a game Clyde runs off in pursuit. I think about calling him off, but what better way is there for me to find their best times than having a Hellhound chasing after them. After the first lap, Clyde gets bored and returns to my side.
Too bad. They both made a first lap time that is pretty commendable. The second lap looks to start out at the same pace, but I notice a drop in speed as they realize Clyde isn't behind them anymore. Phee is still out in front, but not by far. Sam is working his hardest to catch up. That's it lover boy, you show her what a big, tough man you really are. Sorry, the rant wasn't as over as I thought it was.
By the third lap, they are both starting to drag. They have speed, but they don't have stamina. It is the first thing to go on my mental list of notes for improvements. On my list, I add a Taser, in case I need to separate them sometime in the future. In the end, Phee crosses the finish line at three minutes flat and Sam is right behind ten seconds later.
Not bad for the mile and a half. We should easily be able to get them down to the two and a half minute range, either by working on the stamina or getting Clyde to chase them the whole time.
“That's a good start you two. I am sure you both noticed you started to lag by the end. That is something we will need to work on. I will give you a couple seconds to catch a breath and then we will start with the obstacles.”
I move to place a few weights and hurdles into their lanes. Collecting our observers, I line them up around the track and give them beanbags to toss at the students as they run by.
“You don't have to toss them every time and I want you to vary when you toss them. You know, throw it when they are coming up on you, right in line with you, and after they pass you. I don't want them to expect the hit,” I instruct.
With everything and everyone in place, I head back over to Sam and Phee who are whispering between themselves. We can all hear them clear as day, so I don't know why they bother. They must want the illusion of privacy. They are going to have to learn to do the mushy stuff on their own time. Around me, it is only going to make me have them run more laps. Lucky for them, this is just a testing session.
“Okay guys, this is going to be a lot tougher. You are going to fall. There is no doubt in my mind. If either of you don't, I am going to have you skinned to check for robot parts. Agility comes naturally for us in our wolf forms, but it takes hours of work to get it drilled into our human brains.
“This will help me figure out what coordination activities will help you hone your skills. It will be another three laps around and whatever you do, don't get complacent. Each lap will be different, I will make certain of that. You can take your places,” I order.
They both quickly get in their spots and I give the command to go. Out of the gate, they are both looking good. I give Clyde a little glance and see him asleep at my feet with his belly in the air. The humanoids must have bored him to sleep. He is making some cute little snoring sounds.
Looking back at the action on the track, beanbags are being tossed aside, but their speeds have really diminished. Sam is out in front of Phee and, as I was afraid of, he seems to be batting some of the beanbags down that are targeting her.
Stupid testosterone.
Shortly after the start of the second lap, Phee takes a tumble on a hurdle. Wanting to see what is wrong, Sam turns around and is hit in the head by a beanbag Alex throws. It catches him off guard and down he goes.
Good, that will teach him. She isn't in real danger, so he needs to let her do this on her own. He lies there for a second, but Phee is quickly back up and works to complete the lap. They each have another fall, but finish up around the seven-minute mark.
The goal of the exercise is to complete it at the same speed you would without the obstacles. They both have a lot to work on. I see many hours of hurdle jumping in their futures.
“Good job, guys. I can see lessons already forming in my head.” They are both panting heavily lying down on the ground. For me personally, I would want my instructor to get me up and on to the next test as soon as po
ssible, but I don't think either of them have that mentality. “I would like to move on to the weights. They will probably be the last thing we do today, are you guys ready for it?”
Phee immediately bounces up, trying to act chipper and ready for anything, but clearly wishing for a thirty-minute break. “Let's do it,” she says walking to the other side of the gym. Sam, not wanting to be outdone, follows slowly behind her.
“Alex, can you assist?” I ask skipping along behind them. I bet Sebastian is the strongest of us, but he isn't the same species, so I don't want them to get unrealistic hopes of what they could achieve.
“Right behind you,” he replies getting in line. I point to one of our all-in-one weight machines and he takes a seat while removing his shirt.
I hear a little startled “wow” from Phee. Yeah, my wolfy man leaves you kind of speechless. She better hope Sam doesn't catch her eyes falling out of her skull. He might get a little upset.
“As I hope you both know, Alex is an exceptionally well trained soldier. It has taken him years to get into the condition he is in now, so don't expect overnight results. Alex, what weight can I set this to?”
“On this, I can do a ton,” he says not surprising me at all. At my size, I can only do about six-fifty on a good day. I adjust the dial for a ton and then let him do a couple reps to show how the exercise is done.
“Thank you, Alex,” I say tilting my head to indicate he can vacate the seat. “Now that you know what you are going to be doing, I will set it back down to one hundred pounds. We will start there and work your way up in intervals of twenty-five to see where you are both at. The final goals for you will be about five hundred for Phee and eight hundred for Sam. I think those are reasonable goals, but only time and training will tell for sure.”
After they both have their turns, Phee ends up at one fifty and Sam is at three hundred. Many hours of weight training is added to their hurdle jumping in my mind, just as I expected, but at least now we have goals set and I can come up with ways to get them there while training them how not to get their asses handed to them.
“That's it for today, so if you guys want to head back to Sam's cell to have a little chat, you are free to go,” I say walking over to collect Clyde who is still snoring. His little feet are moving like he is chasing something in his dreams. It is kind of cute. I imagine the object he is chasing is Sebastian. They kind of have a thing going on between them.
I was going to go over general rules and regulations, but I think they both understand to do what I say and don’t give me any shit about it.
Chapter 10
Don’t bring a Hellhound home to meet Daddy
When we get up to the apartment, I lay Clyde on my bed to snuggle in for the night. His little snores still are making me laugh.
It is still pretty early, so I want to check my work email and see if there is anything to keep my mind off current events. Finding a few clients that have legitimate kills lined up for me would make my night.
The shadows follow behind and I work hard to put up blinders. It only works so far because Sebastian is again trying to touch me. He attempts to play with my hair. I am not amused.
“Calm down,” Alex commands through our link. “I don't know what I would do if our connection just dropped one day, but I could still physically see you. When we lost contact when you were first taken, I pictured you dead for a brief second myself. Then I remembered there is no way someone could take my girl down. You have way too hard of a head.”
“I am trying to let it go. I just wish he wasn't acting so needy. He is stronger than this and he knows I hate being touched,” I reply trying to state my case.
Not wanting to continue with the short mental conversation, I switch to vocalizing my desires. “Sebastian, is there anything I can do to make things easier for you that doesn't involve constant touch?”
“Nope. Everything I can think of involves touch,” he says after thinking about it for a second. “Are you hungry or anything? I could make you something to eat.”
“I am still not hungry at all. If anything, I feel a little tingle of hunger for my liquid diet. I don't understand why that would be. I was up to at least a week between feedings,” I say bringing my email up on the screen.
“I would assume it is because your last feeding was on a person that you didn't share a vampire bond with. Our blood was stronger when we were connected, now that we aren't you are pretty much back to being a newborn vampire that needs to eat more often. It was yet another thing I was afraid of and one of the biggest reasons why I want to be with you at all times now.”
I quietly question that “all times” comment in my mind. He could leave me right after a feeding and I should be good to go until at least the next day. Even now, it isn't really that bad, I can feel it just starting to ache, if I think about it.
“Any idea on why I am not craving solid food?”
“I couldn't say. I stopped when the bond was severed, but I am not part werewolf so I never expected to keep wanting solid food,” Sebby replies moving to take a seat on the nearest couch.
Air to breathe. I take a big whiff and let it out slowly. Okay that was just a tad over dramatic, I admit. My phone, which someone conveniently has placed on my desk, starts buzzing bringing me out of my moment. I pick it up to read the text. I am shocked by not only who it is from, but the fact that it says his name as the sender. Who programmed my father's number in my phone and why haven't I noticed it before?
A HELLHOUND!!! YOU BROUGHT A HELLHOUND HOME WITH YOU!!! OF ALL THE IRRESPONSIBLE THINGS YOU COULD HAVE DONE!!! WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A LONG TALK ABOUT THIS, LITTLE GIRL!!! YOU ARE LUCKY YOU ARE TOO OLD TO BE GROUNDED!!! I MAY FIND A WAY TO MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOR THIS!!!
It actually makes me laugh. “Daddy isn't too impressed with Clyde and he hasn't even met him yet,” I say to let the others in on the joke. “I am sure once he does, he will love him as much as I do.
“Your father is texting you now?” Alex asks.
“They must have put a new cell tower in by the rock,” I say still laughing. “It appears Hellhounds don't even rate an email explaining the dangers of them. They require an immediate text message telling me I am grounded.”
“I don't think anyone was expecting Clyde to join the family,” Marcus inserts. I don’t know about that. I am pretty sure there is a psychic out there somewhere laughing his or her ass off at this development.
“You don't think this new revelation is going to bring him out of hiding early, do you? In his past messages, he seemed to indicate how important it was for him to stay away until my birthday. What he expects to happen then, I have no clue.”
“I think only your mother sniffing around would bring him out,” Jonas says. “Even if she gets close, we have other options now that we have a demon on our side. I doubt she could find you if you went on a little vacation to Hell.”
Not my idea of a dream vacation. What would you even pack for something like that? I might need to stock up on some SPF 1000, just in case they decide that really is a good idea. Ben’s dream room isn’t too bad or anything, but I imagine it might not be as climate controlled in real life.
“Let's just keep trying to stay under her radar as much as possible. I know that will be tougher with the little guy in tow, but we will just have to do our best,” I say still thinking about what visiting Hell would be like. In the end, I decide it is something I want to avoid.
Email, once again, is mostly spam. How are these things getting through my settings? Only one of the emails looks appealing and that is just because it doesn't have much to say and it is cryptic.
My favorite combination, sort of like Sebby, before he went batty.
Ms. Slaughter
I would like to meet with you tomorrow in your office at noon. I understand that is early for most of our kind, but I will explain the need for the early hour, if you show up. I am a bit of a distance away from you so I will be leaving shortly after I send this and I will not be able to
check to see if you actually respond.
Suffice it to say I am really getting desperate and you are getting to be my last hope. Please show up at noon.
Kent Newhouse
I am not sure I like being people’s last hope. It tends to be a familiar saying to me these days. I am not looking forward to being up that early either, but I wouldn't mind hearing what he has to say. Maybe I will get to kill someone.
“You know a Kent Newhouse?” I ask Alex. I figure the guy is a werewolf when he says things like “our kind” and is venturing out in the middle of the day.
“The name sounds vaguely familiar. Why?” he asks in return.
“He says he needs my help and wants to meet me tomorrow. I am his last hope and all that jazz, so I think I want to go check it out.” The fact that he is asking me why means he isn't floating in my head. I wonder if he hit his head on a rock or something. He hasn’t exactly been his usually annoying self since I woke up. More evidence leading to the rock theory.
“Isn't he the guy behind Ghost Town?” Jonas asks.
“I think you are right. We have sent enough people there, I should remember something like that,” Alex replies without going into further details.
“So, what is Ghost Town?” I ask trying to get more information. I wonder if it is a place where all dead paranorms gather. That would be really creepy. I have killed enough of them, that if they are floating around a town somewhere, I will be taking a giant step to avoid getting close.
“Kent can tell you more about it tomorrow. He is the founder pretty much. We have sent some people there when they need to go into hiding. I have never been there myself, so I cannot give that much background information.”
“Can I find more information about it online? I would like to have some knowledge about it going into the meeting.”
“Nope. If you were able to, it wouldn't be a secret town. All I can tell you is, that unless you really need it, you won't be able to find it,” Alex says.
“It wouldn't happen to be the secret location of my dad, would it?” I ask wondering about his little definition. My dad definitely needed a place to hide out and this place is starting to sound perfect.
