Broken Angel (Book 1 in the Chronicles of a Supernatural Huntsman series)

by Shannon Lee Martin

  I stayed in the hospital for the next day and night while everyone went to class and practiced their weapon training with the katana sword. Still weak from the loss of blood, I was out from the time I swallowed that awful Shtriga’s saliva in the early morning until midnight.

  My body was heavy with exhaustion. My eyelids fluttered as I forced them to open. Sprawled out on the chair next to my bed was Don. It felt like a dream. I looked around to make sure I was in the real world and not still stuck somewhere inside my subconscious. But it was really him there, asleep with his mouth slightly parted and his hardened face in desperate need of a shave.

  I cleared my throat and he shot up like a Jack in the Box.

  “You’re up,” he said, his voice gruff and groggy.

  He rubbed at his face and shook his head a few times to get rid of any lingering sleepiness. After one giant yawn, he perked up, sat on the edge of his seat, and looked at me intently.

  “How are you feeling?”

  I tried to sit up, but it was a painful process. I couldn’t put to words the amount of exhaustion my body felt. It ran deep into my bones. When I finally wrangled myself up onto the propped pillow, I swayed before I could see straight again.

  “I’ve been better,” I said. Don nodded his head and patted the back of my hand with his. “I’ve also been worse, so all in all I’d say I’m okay.”

  Without explanation or warning, Don slumped over so his head rest on my arm. His shoulders moved up and down as he wept silently into the bedsheets. I had never seen a man cry before. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I rubbed his back gently.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” he said with a sniff. “I should have been there.”

  “It’s not your fault. I should have known better,” I protested.

  He lifted his head and wiped the tears from his face, avoiding eye contact all the while.

  “Not to sound accusatory or anything, but where were you?”

  It was something I had been wondering for almost the entire twelve weeks of training. Holly met with her godmother at least three times a week. Achilles and Atticus’s father met with them every other day. Mr. Ignatius Alexander, the royal highness himself, met with Ryker every single day after training. Same with Lance and Gordon’s parents. And yet I’d only had one mentor meeting with Don in all my time there.

  “I had business to take care of.”

  I kept my eyes trained on his so he could feel the weight of my curiosity. He owed me an explanation this time. I didn’t blame him, but he should have been there for the mentor meetings at the very least. Why had he volunteered for group mentor if he was never going to be able to take us out hunting?

  “Is that all you have to say? It was business?” I tried to hide the annoyance in my voice, but some of it slipped through.

  He looked at me with glossy gray eyes. There were dark circles around them that made his face look gaunt and tired. I didn’t doubt he had business to take care of. I just wished, for once, he’d let me in.

  “Kamlyn, I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. But I did have some time to drop by the house for some things. Here,” he said and handed me an envelope with nothing written on it.

  My brow furrowed as my head cocked to the side. “What’s this?”

  “Just open it,” he said as he stood up.

  My gaze quickly snapped to him. Fear made my eyes pop.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he assured me. He walked out the door and left me in solitude to read the mysterious letter.

  Once I opened it, I knew immediately who it was from by the girlish handwriting.