by C. J. Hart
Maybe we can talk soon?
Lyssa xx
I turn the paper over and answer her questions.
“What’d she say?” Kat says.
“Stuff you probably already know.”
The timer buzzes and Sarah returns. “Don’t mind me.” She stoops to check the cookies. “Perfect!”
“Can you get this back to my sister?” I say to Kat, sliding the note across the table.
“Sure thing.”
“You haven’t told anyone where I’m staying, have you?”
He traces a cross over his heart with a forefinger. “Not a soul.”
“Good. Keep it that way.”
Barely a whisper but I pick it up, “They probably already know, dude.”
Sarah slides the sugary treats onto a plate. “You boys hungry for some more?”
Kat grins and nods. “Yes.”
“Help yourselves.” She sets the plate in the middle.
I dive in first, before he stakes his claim on them. Then I remember something Lyssa said—the pack hangs around day and night. Why? Don’t they have humans to torture? Little girls to stalk? “Have you been able to find out about any of their plans?”
“A little,” he says around a mouthful of crumbs, “and you’re not gonna like it.”
Cassie
Dad orders me another cola, and then returns to his beer-battered onion rings. “Anything new with you? I know I haven’t been around much of late.”
I tiptoe around the topic, as usual. “Oh nothing much, you know, the usual. Work, school.” I take a bite of my burger. “Turns out, my classmates are accusing me of ‘napping Eve.” STOP. I gulp my mouthful to prevent myself from letting Seb’s name slip.
His eyebrows arch. “They’re what? Where’s the proof?”
Approaching dangerous waters. Must turn around immediately. “I don’t know. It’s just a rumor.” One that’s gaining speed by the hour.
“Maybe I can arrange to have Scott speak to them…”
“No,” I say. “It’s okay. I can handle my own problems.”
“I know you can.” He pats my hand. “I know you can.” He’s silent for a moment, and then adds, “Should we order dessert or head back for pie?”
“Pie,” I say, not missing a beat.
“We got any ice cream?”
“I think there’s a tub of chocolate in the back of the freezer.” I chew for a moment, and then say, “Looking forward to the barbeque tomorrow?” Where I’ll be in the kitchen preparing it and he’ll be out hunting with his buddies. What is this, the fifties?
“Yeah, good fun.” He nods, and we finish our meals in silence.
Once we’re back on the road, I switch on the radio and flip through the stations. A pop song filters through the speakers. Satisfied, I slump back into the seat, hungry for that pie.
The road is quiet, flanked by trees and shrubbery on both sides. To the right, the forest leads into Aeston. To the left, the reservation. A little further up is where I found Seb, bleeding and unconscious.
A flash of black darts across the lane. Dad slams on the brakes. I grip the sides of my seat, the belt straining against my abdomen and chest. He draws a small, silver knife from under him and hops out. Whatever he’s up to, I don’t like it. I slide out also.
“Get back!” he spits at me. “Get in the car!”
The puma’s golden-yellow eyes glisten in recognition and terror. He’s about to die. At the hand of my father, both he and I are sure of it. The big, black cat is frozen and I wonder what he’s waiting for. Why doesn’t he run? Dad lunges at him, eyes void of emotion. The knife angles for its heart.
“No!” I dive between them. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“My job, Cass.” He shoves me roughly aside.
“Run!” I say, regaining my footing. “Get out of here!” I stomp my feet and make as much noise as I can to scare Kat away.
Puma-Kat bolts and melds into the trees. Dad glares at me.
I return his stare, hands on my hips. “Killing pumas now are you, Dad? PETA will be all over your ass.”
“You know very well what I’m doing, Cassandra.” His features are pinched, worn. “I know you’ve been in my office, seen the papers,” he says. “Kelley mentioned you’ve been nosing around. I know at least one has been hanging about. I’ve smelled them in our house.”
I shake my head, dismissive.
“You don’t think I know he sneaks into your room?”
“If you knew all this time—I don’t understand why you’ve never said anything.”
Losing his temper, he slams the car door shut. “You weren’t supposed to find out!”
“Find out what?”
He dodges my question. “And now you’re saving these leviathans?” His face is a scrunched mask of betrayal and irritation as he steps closer.
I should be scared, intimidated. The natural response is for me to recoil. But I hold my place. “It’s true; I know what they are.” My voice is even, controlled. “But who are you?” I feel as if I don’t know him anymore. What is he keeping from me?
“It doesn’t matter.” He stares into the spot Kat vanished to for a beat. Then he spins and climbs back into the SUV.
It does matter. He’s keeping something from me, and the curiosity hardwired into my brain wants to know what.
I’m going to find out. Even if it ends me.
I slap together two slices of starchy bread, filled with cuts of ham, lettuce, and mayo. “Where is it you’re going?” I say to Dad. He’s been vague about his hunting trip—which is usual. But this time, I’m worried. What is he hunting? Should I warn Seb and Kat to stay off-road?
“Uh, around the mountains and, um—”
There’s a brisk rap on the door, and Dad escapes my grilling. For now. I package the sandwiches and set them on his backpack. Something silver is poking out of the unzipped pocket. My pulse thumps in my ears as I lift the flap. Looks like the knife Dad used yesterday, and the one from my dream where I stabbed Seb.
Could my brain have been trying to tell me something, fill in the blanks?
I hear four male voices head my way, and I lurch away from the table. I’m cleaning up the counter as they enter. First, Uncle Scott, followed by their two mutual friends—Simon and Adam. Dad strolls in after them.
“Nice to see you again, Cass.” Uncle Scott pulls me in for a hug. “How’re you holdin’ up?”
“Fine,” I say. Rotten. “Any news?”
Sympathetically, he places a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry, no. But we’ve got everyone working on finding her, I promise.”
Eve won’t be found until the pack wants her to be. It’s a thought that guts me completely, and I struggle to remain composed in front of them.
He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “I promise.”
I nod and force myself back into sociable-mode.
Simon, Marcus’ father, eyes the bread. “There enough sandwiches for us?”
I draw in a steady breath before saying, “Oh, yes. I made extra.”
Dad curls an arm around my shoulders, hugging me to his side. “Isn’t she a good one, eh?”
I roll my eyes skywards.
“Let’s go before you embarrass the poor girl some more.” Simon snatches the top sandwich and vanishes into the hall.
Adam follows, leveling a steady, withering gaze at me before turning away.
Dad’s brother claps me on the back. “Be good.”
“Always am.”
Something in his features tells me he thinks otherwise, and possibly Adam thinks the same.
“You’ll be back in time for the barbeque?”
“Sure will.”
When they leave, I dial the Adler’s. Please be home. Seb, please be home! I let it ring seven times before hanging up. Is he working today? I dial Roadrunner Records on the off chance he is.
Someone picks up after one ring. “Hello?”
“Liam? Oh, thank God. Know where Seb is?”
&n
bsp; “He just left.”
“How long ago? Can you catch him?”
“Hold on a sec.”
There’s a scuffle—him putting down the phone?—then silence. Two seconds pass. Five. Fifteen.
Then another voice says, “Cass?”
Every cell in my body floods with relief. “Seb.”
“Y’okay?”
“Make sure you don’t shift today, please. My dad is going hunting, and I’m pretty sure you and I both know he’s not hunting deer.”
He snorts. “Only took you seventeen years to figure it out. What made you realize it?”
I sigh. Clearly, he knows. Why didn’t I figure this out earlier? I fill him in on last night, and then add, “And tell Kat to stay out of my father’s line of vision.” I don’t want him getting hurt because of my father’s stupid hunting escapade.
“Sure thing.”
I hang up and march down the hall, stopping in front of Dad’s office. It’s time for me to find out what’s really going on.
My fingers twist the knob, and I shove open the door. This time, the desk is clear of papers. But he has to keep them somewhere. I rifle through drawers—office supplies only and a picture of a dinosaur I drew when I was ten. The bookshelves. I scrutinize each title as it meets my eyes—then one catches me by surprise, a notebook marked Diné. The Navajo name for their nation.
Did he forget I knew a few words? I slide out the notebook and flip it open to the marked page—three days ago.
A vine of ice loops around my spine as I grasp the meaning of the words scrawled across the page. Two lines catch my attention:
Seb & Cass—Robyn says she’s seen them together in town. Does Cass know?
Marcus—get him to do it?
The concluding question puzzles me. What is Dad planning on doing? Locking me up? Killing me? Killing Seb? No. I won’t let him destroy my future. I haul out my smartphone and snap a picture of the page. Leverage, I tell myself. Though, I haven’t the faintest idea how to use it.
Curiosity gnaws at my stomach. I flip to the beginning of the book, scanning the first page. My eyes catch the word Hunter and something about the Yee Naaldlooshi. Then it lists names of the current two generations:
Brett Spencer
Scott, Joel, & Dylan Spencer
Dean Santos
Adam Puckett
Simon & Marcus Wyatt
Looks like the Hunter gene runs in the family—a boy-only club. How Elizabethan of them. And Marcus is one? This means one thing.
They’ve been keeping tabs on me.
For how long? The date at the top reads 10/3/2008.
Seb is right. We were doomed from the beginning. He’s dating the daughter of a Hunter—and not just any Hunter, it seems. The leader.
Snapping a pic of that also, I turn to the next page, trying to find out what a Hunter actually is. Hunts the skinwalkers, I guess, but what else? I continue my turn-and-snap routine until I look at his desk clock. 11:15. I have to prep lunch for the barbeque. Promising to return another day and find the answer, I slide the journal back into place and slink out of the door.
At 11:20, Aunt Robyn arrives with three bags of groceries and a big hug for me.
“Cass, you look shifty. Been up to no good?”
I’m done for. I figure I’ll be assassinated like Martin Luther King Jr., or stabbed twenty-three times in the back like Caesar. “Guilty.”
“So what’d you do?” she says as we unpack the food haul. “Sneak the last of the ice cream? Eat the last slice of pizza?”
I try to arrange a smile on my features. “Yep.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” She beams, passing me a bag of potatoes.
As we chop onions, carrots, and various other vegetables, my mind is drifting to the photos and the notebook. I want to study them, but I probably can’t risk doing so until tonight—after our family and friends have left.
At 12:30, Dad returns. His clothes are stained with blood in sections, and I pray that it’s not Seb or Kat’s.
“No meat?” I say, keeping up with the animal-hunting charade.
“Nah, not a good hunting day.” He shares a sly smirk with Robyn.
Liar. Does he think I’m a fool? Well, I’ll show him.
“I’m just gonna hop into the shower, then I’ll help out, okay?” he says.
I turn my back on him, not wanting to be here, to be near him. I want to be talking this out with Seb.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Robyn says to him. “We’ve got it under control, right, Cass?”
“Sure.” I want this stupid day to be over, to be tucked into Seb’s arms, and to not have to worry about a damn thing.
“Oh, Brett?” Robyn says.
“Yeah?”
“Can you pop out for some ice after your shower, or should I ring one of the boys?”
“Ask Scott. He said he’d be here early.”
I hear the familiar stomp stomp as Dad trudges down the hall, into the bathroom.
***
Tonight, while Dad is sleeping and all is quiet, I connect my cell phone to my laptop and download the photos. Had I suspected something was wonky with Dad? Yes. The past couple of months, he’s been hunting more and more, and staying out for longer periods. I’m not his keeper, but deep down, I knew.
I just didn’t know what.
I’m the girl who knows nothing and everything. The daughter of a Hunter, girlfriend to a skinwalker. My world has changed so much in so little time. Will I recover Old Cassie, the one who was happy to read or do homework like it was a pastime? Or should I bury her deep in the recesses of my soul, along with memories of my mother and Eve?
I don’t have any answers yet.
Seb reaches for my hand as we settle into the seats opposite Kat. The pizzeria is a bustling place of patrons tonight.
“Man, that’s some sick shit,” Kat says.
I’d just divulged my findings.
“We knew the Hunters were a genetic thing,” Seb says. “Like us.”
“Yeah, but they’ve been following us more and more lately—probably watching right now.” He ducks his head and glances around. “Recognize anyone?”
“There are oodles of his friends and colleagues I haven’t met,” I say. “For all we know, the whole town has been swept into this Big Brother-type setup. Who can we trust?”
Seb is quiet for a moment, pensive. When he speaks, his voice is shaky. “Just wish everyone would leave us alone.”
Kat bumps his shoulder against Seb’s. “Feeling’s mutual.”
A blur of red from someone’s dress reminds me of a pair of irises. “Hey, who’s the pack member with the red eyes?”
Seb’s head snaps around, flashing a glare. “Why?”
“That’s Ash,” Kat says, chilled and picking at his pizza.
I value his straight-up honesty. “You’re not gonna like this.” I rip off a chunk with my fingers. “But a couple of days after I was in the hospital, Dad and I came home to this.” I pull the envelope from my bag and slide it across the table. “Add this to that phone call at the café and—”
“It spells trouble,” Kat says.
Seb swallows hard, taking out the slip of paper. Kat leans over his shoulder, eager, as Seb unfolds it. It only takes a second for him to react.
His fingers begin twitching, crumpling the paper. His pupils dilate. His skin prickles and his whole frame seems to vibrate, like he’s overdosing on caffeine. Seb jumps up, jostling the table. Sodas threaten to spill. He gallops over to the door, throws it open, and vanishes into the night.
I throw a twenty on the table and run after him.
“Wait, Cass.” Kat grabs my arm. “I’ll get him.” He scurries after him.
I wait a beat, heart kicking in my chest, and then follow. My eyes scan the road and pavement. They’re not here. How fast are they? A crash echoes from the alley, five feet to my left. I turn towards it. A scuffle of feet, a rip. A growl. I edge towards the opening. A mass of gray fur charge
s towards me. I flatten myself against the bricks.
Kat sprints past at a human speed. “Seb, wait up!” Then he quickly turns to a brown blur.
I blink—and they’re gone. Great. I exhale and extract myself from the wall. My boyfriend’s a wolf, lost in the night.
Seb
“Seb, wait up!” Kat charges after me, but I don’t wait.
I’m too angry to stop. Driven by a murderous rage, I cross the street, my claws digging in. Faster. A car honks as we almost collide, and I delve into the quieter part of town. Houses are whipping by, a blur of whites, grays, and blues.
They were threatening her before I even knew, before I had met her at the café. All this time, they were keeping an eye on her, and on me. Seething, I propel myself along faster.
Kat has caught up to me and is running flat-out, arms pumping fiercely, as he tries to keep up. “Dude, stop.” He slams his shoulder into mine, hard, and I lose my balance. Go sprawling across the pavement.
I’m up in a flash and barreling down the street. My paws automatically know where to turn, and take me to the place I’ve recently started calling home. I’m halfway up the driveway when Kat digs his shoulder into mine again, and I crash into the Adler’s trashcans. It makes an awful racket—garbage spewing over the pavers, lids rattling in every direction, and then me thumping into the fence. It groans in protest but remains upright.
Next time I see Ash, he’s dead.
The rear verandah light winks on, casting a yellow halo over part of the darkened yard. Kat’s weight against my side forces me to stay down and hidden in the dark.
I shouldn’t have come here.
The curtains on the kitchen window part, and then we see Mrs. Adler’s face, her eyes sweeping the yard. Kat heaves himself off me and steps into the light, waving her out.
My ears twitch as I hear the neighbor’s door open at the same time as the Adler’s. I can’t stop the roaring thunder of hatred coursing through my veins, and a snort escapes my nostrils. Kat clamps a hand over my muzzle and crouches near me.
