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

by Shannon Lee Martin

When I finally regained most of my strength and left the hospital ward, I didn’t get far before someone found me in the hallway.

  “Kamlyn Paige?” a young man I had never seen before asked.

  I looked up at him and his slicked back white-blonde hair. “Uh, yeah?”

  “Vice-Head Rutherford would like to see you in his office.”

  How long had he been standing outside the door waiting for me to come out? And what did the Vice-Head want with me? I remembered how the others said Ryker had seen him about possibly being kicked out. Was there any chance I could be kicked out for being injured too many times? The thought made my stomach curl up into a tight ball that felt like a rock.

  I followed the man through various hallways until we ended up in front of a wide, heavy, black door with a silver plaque nailed to it. A heavy weight settled in on my chest as I stared at the name etched into it.

  “Go ahead,” the blonde man said before he turned on the heel of his boot and walked away.

  With a deep breath, I knocked on the door three times. A muffled voice told me to come in.

  The office wasn’t anything like I expected from the grandeur of the doorway. It was about the same size as a large walk-in closet. On the desk sat endless stacks of folders and papers in a jumbled mess. The wall of filing cabinets looked to be in disarray, as if someone had broken in and rifled through them quickly. There were three chairs in the room and each one was covered in wadded up, discarded papers and notes.

  “Mr. Rutherford, sir?” I said meekly, stuck in the doorway. “Should I come back another time?”

  The disheveled man was bent over the waste basket, rifling through it with fury. Even though his face was contorted from stress, the part in his brown hair remained perfect.

  “What? Oh, Miss Paige. No, no, come on in.” He straightened his tie and sat down in the seat behind his desk. He motioned for me to do the same.

  I looked down at one of the chairs and then back at him.

  “It’s okay, just toss those on the floor,” he laughed.

  I did just that and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. My ankle bounced up and down as I struggled to sit still. He was being nice enough, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be kicked out. All I could do was hold my breath and wait for him to say it.

  “I suppose you know why you’re here,” he started with his hands folded on his desk.

  “In all honesty, no, sir.”

  He chuckled oddly, like the hissing of a snake. “Oh my, I must have given you quite a scare then, asking you to come down here!”

  He continued to laugh even though I didn’t. Odd, what some people found funny. I waited patiently for it to pass.

  “Right,” he collected himself and moved on. “Halfway through training we like to meet with the initiates and evaluate how they’re doing and what their thoughts are—what they like about the training, what they don’t like, assess any problems they might be having.”

  He stared at me with dark eyes and a plastered smile.

  “Well, I’m doing fine, I guess,” I started off hesitantly. “I like the training and the instructors. I’ve learned a lot. There’s been a few accidents along the way, but nothing I can’t handle—”

  “Good!” he burst out with a loud clap of his hands. “That’s what I like to hear!”

  I jumped in my seat a little, but tried to play it off like I was only readjusting myself.

  “We have high hopes for you, Miss Paige. You show great potential. And as far as your little ‘accidents’ go,” he used air quotes around the word, “you shouldn’t be having any more of those.”

  I narrowed my eyes as I thought about what he said. Sure, Ryker had been a pain in my ass the entire time, but I didn’t want him kicked out. I didn’t want to ruin his life.

  “Oh, please, you don’t have to send Ryker home just because he slipped up a few times around me. They really were accidents. He didn’t mean anything by them,” I rambled.

  Mr. Rutherford waved his bony hands in front of his face. “Not another word, Miss Paige. It’s already been taken care of.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand and closed my eyes. With a deep breath, I tried to steady myself to continue on with the conversation.

  “Are you all right, Miss Paige?” he asked politely from across the desk.

  “Sure, yeah, yes,” I stammered. “Thank you. I’m fine. I just hate to see someone leave, even if we weren’t all that close.”

  “We all do, but that’s the way these things go. An entire group never makes it through training together. Some people can hack it and others can’t. But you shouldn’t feel bad about that one bit. Mr. Alexander knows what he did. We have a strict three strike policy on accidents here and he was unfortunate enough to hit that third one the other night.”

  I nodded my head as if I understood, but deep inside I trembled. What strike was I on? How long until they made me leave too? He said they had high hopes for me. Did that mean I was doing well, or they had expected me to do better?

  Of all the people not to make it through, I couldn’t believe Ryker Alexander was the one to go home—the twelfth generation Huntsman with more confidence than I had ever seen in a twenty-one year old before. But I had to admit that he made some horrible mistakes that cost me and Holly a great deal of pain along the way. He abandoned us once and left us for dead, gave us away the second time, and I was almost one hundred percent positive he shot me in the foot on purpose. I didn’t want to believe it, but that look in his eyes never left me. He was pleased to see me writhing in pain on the floor. Why couldn’t I be pleased that he was in just as much pain now?

  “Is there anything you’d like to bring up about training? Any other problems you might have? Or anything weird that’s going on?”

  My thoughts immediately went to the dreams I had and how Don and Holly weren’t doing a thing to help me. I wanted to tell Mr. Rutherford about what I saw—that someone was trying to steal the demon goblet from the Dark Artifacts room, but something stopped me. Going around telling people I was having weird prophetic dreams might not be the best idea. I had my suspicions about who could be the one trying to steal it, but really it could be anyone. It was best to keep my mouth shut until I knew more.

  “No, there’s nothing else.”

  He smiled grandly and clapped his hands together again. “All right, then. Off to class with you.” He stood up and held out his hand to shake mine. His grip was hard, but professional.