The Hunted

by C.J. Hart

  ***

  At 4:49 pm, the shop is empty and Chad hasn’t returned, so I lock up and head for the café. Cass looks up when I enter and flashes me a smile. I lean over the counter to steal a kiss.

  “You’re early,” she says.

  “Yeah. You know where Chad went?” Then I hear his voice wafting out from one of the back rooms. “He’s still here?”

  “Yup. I’ve been filling in for Eloise while she babysits.”

  “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you, just name the price.”

  She grins. “I call foot rub.”

  “Good choice.” I hear Chad again. “He doesn’t sound miserable.”

  “Oh, he and El have hit it off apparently. They’re probably on their first date already. I heard him ask her to dance. No music, though.” Her face scrunches.

  “Chad doesn’t need music.” I tap my temple with a forefinger. “It’s all up here.”

  “He’s weird.” She grins. “I like him.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Can I get you anything before the kitchen closes?”

  I shake my head. “Mrs. Adler’s making pot roast.”

  “Ooh.” Her eyes sparkle with delight.

  Chad appears behind her. “Dude, sorry for abandoning you but I had, like, the most epic day.”

  “So I heard,” I say.

  He grins and floats to the door. “Laters.”

  I hear Eloise giggle. A beat later, she ventures out. “What a fascinating man!”

  Cass rolls her eyes. “Why don’t we, uh, start closing up?”

  “Right, right.” She smiles to herself as she counts the coins from the register.

  Tonight, Cass takes on all the menial tasks of closing up. I help her clear plates and wipe tables. Locking the front door, she flips the sign to closed. She stacks the dishwasher, and then checks to see if El counted right. She was off by three dollars and forty-two cents.

  Then we make sure Eloise gets into her car before we head for mine back at the store.

  Cass takes my hand and sighs. “I feel as if I just worked a double shift.”

  “Tired?”

  “More than, if that’s possible.”

  “When we get home, you can go straight to bed if you like.” I’ll find another moment to broach the subject of her father.

  “And miss out on pot roast and that foot rub? No, thank you.”

  I wonder if I can skip school again?

  “You have to go,” Seb says, tracing his fingers across my arm. “Your friends might think you’ve gone missing, too.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” When had I last spoken to anyone from school? I haven’t attended for two days. He’s probably right. “Fine,” I grumble.

  “You used to like school.”

  “That was before this whole mess began, when life was simple and I was happy.”

  He pouts. “You’re not happy?”

  “Always when I’m with you, Seb. But two weeks ago, I had my best friend and I was living at Dad’s.”

  “You ever gonna go back?” he says.

  I shrug. “If he wants me. But he’s made it clear he doesn’t.”

  He’s quiet for a moment.

  “What?” I say. “Have you heard different?”

  He nods. “He and your uncle came into the store yesterday.”

  I swallow hard. “What did he want?”

  “To bargain. A trade, I guess. I give you to him; he gives Kat and me immunity.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I’m not gonna make you go back.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “That you’re not going to just hand me over.”

  “I’d never do that. It’s your choice.”

  “What do you think I should do?”

  “It’s your choice.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  He presses a finger to my lips. “Think about it.”

  I don’t want to. I already know this is the place for me.

  He can see my resistance. “Just think about it, Cass. Then, when you’re eighteen, we can go anywhere you like.”

  Anywhere? I like the sound of that. “Okay.”

  “Let’s see what’s on offer for breakfast, shall we?”

  ***

  When I get to school, everything is in chaos—the emergency bell is screeching, echoing across the yard. Teachers are commanding students to evacuate to the football field in an orderly fashion, and students are appearing panicked but forced to stay calm.

  What the…?

  I spot Mr. Jameson by the entrance and dodge some wayward peers to get to him. “What’s going on?”

  He swivels to face me. “Ah, Cassie.” He smiles. “Good to see you’re back.”

  “Why is everyone scattering?” I say.

  His smile remains. “Bomb threat.”

  I freeze. “Pardon?” Who would want to blow up Aeston High? It’s got to be a prank.

  “It’s best you follow everyone to the football field, Cassie.” He nods, stern.

  I open my mouth to thank him, and then Marcus catches my elbow.

  “C’mon, Cass. Let’s get moving.”

  As he tows me along like a disobedient child, I spot Miley, Xavier, and their younger siblings up ahead. I call out to them and twist my arm out of Marcus’ hold. “Miles!”

  Her head whips around in my direction, and she pauses for a beat to allow me to catch up. Marcus is close, practically nipping at my heels.

  “Hey,” she says. “Sorry, I looked for you, but then we were told to move.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m glad you guys are safe.”

  Lily, Miley’s younger sister, loops her arm through mine as we march over the grass and down the slight hill into the field. “Are we going to die? Because that would, like, totally suck,” she says.

  The color drains from Miley’s face. “What? No, Lily! Of course not!”

  We’re told to find our class, and so I have to locate Mrs. Browne, leaving my friends behind. With the exception of Marcus, who thinks he’s my shadow.

  Aiming to get a better look at everyone, I step up onto the second level of the bleachers.

  “Be careful,” he says, looking uneasy and reaching out in case he has to steady me.

  I ignore him. Heights don’t bother me. Slowly swiveling my head from right to left, I spot my English teacher, and then jump down. “She’s over there.” I gesture to my left, and then stride off in that direction.

  Once our names are marked off, we settle into the grass to wait.

  ***

  An hour later, we’re told we can go back to class. Concealing a yawn with my hand, I trudge along with the rest of the students in a haze of drowsiness. I guess working overtime to balance out Eloise’s distraction with Chad, the stress of moving out of Dad’s, and Eve’s death, was finally catching up with me. When I’m packing up my books at the end of English, I look up to see that Mrs. Browne is standing in front of my desk, wearing an unusually sympathetic smile underneath the serious façade. I straighten my spine, my mouth stretching wide in another yawn.

  “Cassie.” She places a slip of paper on top of my notebook—a hall pass—and keeps her voice low. “I think you should go and talk to the school counselor.”

  “I’m fine—”

  She taps a finger on the page of my notebook—blank. I hadn’t even written the date. “You’ve been falling asleep in many of my classes this week and last. I think you should talk to someone.”

  The school counselor is busy when I arrive at her office, so Mrs. Adams sends me to the nurse’s office.

  “You look like you’re about to fall off your feet, love.” The nurse sits me down on one of the beds. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m just tired.” To prove my point, my lips part in another yawn and my eyelids droop closed.

  “Are you sleeping okay, love?”

  I think the question should be “Are you sleeping?” but I don’t correct her. “No, not reall
y,” I say.

  “Hmm.” Tapping her long fingernails on the counter, she appraises me. “If you can’t concentrate in your classes, it’s not really doing you any good, is it? I think maybe you should go home.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll write you a note. Can I call anyone to come and pick you up?”

  I’m about to say I can drive myself home—and then I remember Seb had dropped me off this morning. I could walk. Though if Seb found out, he would totally freak. “Mrs. Adler.” She’s the only one who I know can pick me up. Everyone else is at work or here at school.

  “Okay, I’ll give her a quick ring.” Smiling softly at me, the nurse shuts the door behind herself as she leaves.

  I lie down on the bed, the paper crinkling beneath me, and allow my eyes to drift closed. Tomorrow, I tell myself. Tomorrow, I’ll be ready to come back.

  Ten minutes later, Sarah is ushering me up the front stairs and into the house. “The school nurse said you were tired?”

  “Mm. Haven’t been sleeping as well as I’m used to.”

  “Is this about Eve?”

  “It’s about a lot of things. Dad, Eve, and Ash…”

  “Well, if you need someone to talk to—someone who understands two of the three—you know where to find me.” She slips the backpack off of my shoulder. “But for now—off to bed!” She shoos me. “Take the chance while it’s quiet.”

  Drowsy, I make my way to my room. I kick off my shoes and curl up under the blankets.

  ***

  It’s dark when I wake. Had I really slept that long? I roll over and find Seb, eyes closed and breathing lightly. He’s so peaceful, childlike, when he’s asleep. Beautiful. I resist the urge to brush my lips across his, not wanting to wake him. My stomach thunders. Food. Must consume food. I carefully swing my legs over the side and aim to sneak out of the room. But I kick something on my way out, and it makes an awful clunk. I still for a moment, listening for sounds that indicate I’ve woken him.

  His sleepy voice comes from the darkness, “Cass?”

  “Sorry, go back to sleep. I’m just getting a snack.” Or a meal fit for a king—that might satiate my growling stomach.

  “Sarah put leftovers on a plate for you,” he whispers.

  “Okay. Thanks.” I creep into the hall.

  In the kitchen, I grab the plate from the fridge—a mountainous bulge of food—and nuke it in the microwave. I pour myself a glass of cola as my plate rotates, then I sit at the table and devour every morsel. When I’m done, I rinse my plate and drift back to Seb.

  He’s awake, waiting. “Liam filled me in on today’s occurrences. Bomb threat, eh? Lucky you.”

  “Mm.” I slide in next to him. “I got to catch up on my sleep.”

  “Seventeen hours. I gotta say I’m impressed.”

  I can just make out his grin in the soft moonlight.

  “I had to check your pulse a couple of times to make sure you weren’t in a coma or, y’know, dead. Nothing would wake you.”

  I snuggle into him. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

  “Jess tried jumping on the bed. I held coffee under your nose. Liam actually cracked a smile, and you missed it.”

  “Damn.” I must’ve really been dead to the world.

  “Kat wanted to blast an air horn, but Sarah stopped him.”

  “Kat was here?”

  “Yep. Apparently, he had something pretty important to tell you.”

  “What was it?”

  “He overheard Tas making the call to your school about a bomb in the kiln of one of the art rooms. Thought we should know.”

  “Which one is he?” I try to recall if I’d met him.

  “Short brown hair, light hazel eyes.”

  I shake my head. From that day when the six of them came into the café, I can only remember meeting Seb and how psyched Eve was for Whitney to have asked her out. I squeeze my eyes shut and bury my face in his chest. What I require is some sense of normalcy. “I think I’ll go see Dad tomorrow.”

  “Really?” He sounds hopeful. Happy that I’m trying to make amends, I suppose.

  “Yeah.” I’ll miss this house—the fabulous food, the wonderful people, and most of all, sleeping next to Seb. I don’t know what Dad’s restrictions will be, whether he’ll let Seb stay over or not. But Dad must be lonely, missing my company.

  “Don’t let him be too hard on you.”

  “I won’t.”

  “You want me to come with?”

  “Sure.”

  ***

  At 10:15 am, I knock on the door. We wait ten agonizing seconds before the door opens.

  Dad’s surprised to see us. His mouth hangs open, and his eyes are wide. “Come in. Both of you.”

  So he’s serious about this treaty then. Good, it should give me a bit more leeway when discussing my own set of rules. Like seeing my boyfriend, for instance.

  Seb and I take the couch, siting a respectful distance apart while holding hands, and Dad occupies the armchair. Seb’s thumb massages the back of my hand. Dad notices, and I wonder what he’s thinking—how sweet or possibly, get away from her, you mongrel.

  Who should speak first?

  Seb does. “Is this a staring contest or are we gonna get the all-important discussion underway soon?”

  If I were closer, I’d elbow him in the ribs. Lucky for him, he’s just out of reach.

  “Sure,” Dad says. “First thing, it’s nice to see you, Cass.” His lips curl into a small smile.

  I nod in response, not trusting my voice just yet. Will I scream at him? Burst out crying for what he’s done—lying to me my entire life about the Hunters, ostracizing the Adlers, pushing me away, and then trying to drag me back?

  “Second thing. I’m sure Seb has told you that I visited him in the music store.”

  This is not a question. How can he be so cocky, thinking he knows all?

  “I tell her everything, sir,” Seb says.

  “Right. Well, I’m not going to ask you to move back in. That is your choice. You’re old enough to do what you want.” He meets Seb’s eyes for a beat.

  I surprise myself. “I do want to move back.”

  Dad’s smile widens.

  “On two conditions,” I say, and my gaze flickers to my boyfriend.

  Dad gestures for me to continue.

  “Seb can visit after school when neither of us are working and on weekends. And—”

  “And he can stay over one night a week.” Dad cuts his eyes to him. “In the spare bedroom.”

  I glare. “Sarah had no problem letting us sleep in the same room, same bed. And nothing happened.” I feel my features soften—sadden. “Don’t you trust me?”

  He grunts and grumbles to himself for a moment. Seb smirks. Can he hear what my father’s saying?

  Dad throws his hands up in defeat. “Fine. I do trust you; you’re right.”

  I give Seb’s hand a quick pulse, which he returns.

  “So, does this mean you’ll come back?” A spark of hope kindles in his features.

  “Yes.”

  He lurches out of his chair, grinning, and stumbles towards us, pulling me into a messy hug. “I’m sorry for everything I have and haven’t done.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  Dad calms and resumes his seat.

  “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay at the Adler’s one more night.” They’re awesome people, taking Seb and myself in at our most vulnerable states.

  “It doesn’t have to be the last night, Cass,” Seb says. “I’m sure you’re welcome over any time.”

  “He’s right.” Dad stands. “They’re a humble family.”

  We get up, too.

  “Do you have any conditions for me?” I let Seb tuck me under his arm.

  He thinks for a moment. “That we make the time to do things together, like we used to. I know I’ve been very busy lately—”

  “Okay.” I smile.

  Dad sighs. “I feel as if I blinked and sudden
ly, you’re all grown up. Not my little Cass.”

  “I’ll always be your little Cass, just bigger.”

  “Smarter,” Seb says, and then adds, “feistier. More competitive.”

  “We get the picture.” I elbow him, making up for earlier while I’m at it.

  “Like her mother.” Dad smiles.

  “What did she look like?”

  I sigh. “Let’s not drag out the family photo album.” There are some pictures in there I don’t want him to see of my childhood.

  Dad flicks a hand at me. “Mirror image.”

  “Freaky.” Seb backs away from me, mocking. “Are you sure she wasn’t bitten by one of us as a child and chose your wife to shift into?”

  “Hmm.” Dad rubs his chin, playing along.

  Now that they’re not trying to rip each other’s throats out, they’re both ganging up on me. “My eyes don’t do that freaky glow thing at night, and I don’t have any super-human abilities or the slightest urge to hunt.”

  Dad shrugs. “Too bad. That would make for a lovely dinner conversation.”

  Seb guffaws and tugs me to his side again.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” I say, sincere.

  “Good, good.” He hugs me again, and then slaps Seb on the back—something that must’ve been tough for him to do; his Hunter senses must be screaming.

  “See, wasn’t that bad,” Seb says as we cross the yard to his car.

  “Hm. I guess not.”

  “Hey, let’s go for ice cream!” He grins and opens my door.

  An image crackles through my mind of Eve serving me at Rocky Roads. A hand squeezes my shoulder.

  Eerily reading my mind again, he says, “I know a place on rez.”

  I draw in a deep, cleansing breath and let it wash away the memory.

  “You okay?”

  I nod. “Yeah.” I buckle my seat belt. Has my pain weakened, or have I simply grown strong enough to bear it?

  Seb

  “Is apple okay?” Cass says, fussing over a pie base. “They like apple, right?”

  “Yes,” I say, watching her, fascinated by her careful, nimble fingers as they press the pastry into a dish.

  “And Jess is a vegan.” She dusts off her floury hands and tugs open the fridge. “I’ll make her one with this olive spread.” She examines the container before kicking the door closed. “That should be okay.” Her brow has been wrinkled in concentration and worry most of the afternoon.

  “You don’t have to make dessert. They already know you’re grateful.”