Hunter’s Revenge: Willow Harbor - book 3

by Juliana Haygert

  I sighed in relief. She still remembered it.

  I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. Sorry I asked.”

  With a humph, she turned back to the window. I stepped on the pedal and drove.

  Per her request, we stopped by her college on the way. She bought a gift for her sister, and then changed her clothes at her dorm. From her jeans and tee, she switched into a pretty red and orange summer dress, with a tight bodice, flowy skirt, and tan sandals. She let her hair loose and put on a little makeup. All the while, I was a fly on the wall. Uncomfortable while she beautified herself, but incapable of looking away.

  She was always beautiful, but when she turned to me and said, “Done. We can go now,” I was at a loss for words. My jaw fell open, and all I could do was stare.

  “What?” she asked, turning back to the mirror. “What’s wrong? Do I have something on my face?”

  “No,” I rasped. I cleared my throat and tried again. “No. You look beautiful.”

  Underneath the soft pink of the blush she had applied, red tinted her cheeks. “Thanks.”

  I opened the door for her and noticed as we walked out of the co-ed dorm building that many, many guys looked at her. No, they stared at her. Jealousy hit me hard and I almost grunted in surprise.

  Shit.

  Silence met us at the car, but this time, there was something else. Tension. Only on my part. Tessa looked as composed, beautiful, and carefree as ever.

  I drove to her mother’s house, not needing her directions or GPS. If she noticed I knew the way by heart, she chose not to comment on it.

  I parked my car beside the curb and rushed to open the door for Tessa, but she beat me to it. Still, I offered her my hand as she turned to slide out of the car. She narrowed her eyes at my hands, but took it.

  I helped her up, and she pulled her hand away. “Thanks.” I tipped my chin in acknowledgment. She gestured to the large beige house with brown windows and shutters. “Come on.”

  Side by side, we walked to the front door, and as Tessa was about to ring the bell, the door flew open.

  “Tessa,” her mother said, smiling. “Why didn’t you use your key, dear?”

  Tessa shrugged. “I forgot it at my dorm.” That sounded like a lie, but Regina didn’t notice.

  Then, Regina saw me, and her eyes went wide. “Oh, you brought a friend.” She leaned closer to her daughter and whispered, “You should have told me you were bringing a friend.”

  Tessa grimaced. “Mom, this is Landon Armstrong.”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Ford,” I said, offering my hand to her.

  Regina’s face paled and her eyes widened as she took me in. “W-what is he doing here?”

  I pulled my hand back.

  “I went to my father’s funeral, remember?” Tessa said. “He was there.”

  “Y-yes, but …” She gaped at her daughter. “Why is he here?”

  “Mom, Landon is my friend. He came with me as my friend. I hope that is okay.”

  Friend. She had called me a friend.

  “Mrs. Ford, I—”

  “Don’t,” Regina hissed. “Don’t talk to me.” She marched inside the house.

  Tessa turned to me with her blue eyes sad. “Sorry about that. I sometimes think the fact he took you in was worse on her than being pushed aside.”

  Shit. I hadn’t expected Regina to like me, but I had no idea she hated me so much. Just like her daughter did.

  “I shouldn’t be here,” I muttered, turning around.

  “Wait.” Tessa hooked her hand on my arm.

  “I’ll be waiting at some park or bar or diner close by,” I told her, peeling her hold on me. “Just call me when you’re done, and I’ll come pick you up.”

  “Landon, stop. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “She hates me too, and this is her house. I won’t make her uncomfortable in her own home.”

  “She hates you too? What do you mean?”

  “I—”

  “Tessa!” A man with graying hair stepped out of the house. Paul was taller than Isaac had been but less built. “It’s so good to see you, dear.”

  Tessa turned to him with a smile. “Hi, Paul.” She embraced him.

  Then, he looked at me. “Hello, Landon.”

  I nodded at him. “Afternoon, sir.”

  “Please, come in.” He stepped aside, clearing the door. “Regina is a little shocked, but the party will start soon and she’ll get busy. She’ll forget all about it soon.”

  “Sir, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Nonsense.” Paul waved me off. “This is my house too, and as a friend of Tessa’s, you’re invited to stay.”

  I glanced at Tessa. With what looked like a hopeful grin, she nodded at me, as if asking me to stay. How could I say no to that?

  I sighed. “Sure. Thanks, sir.”

  He patted me on the shoulder. “Please, call me Paul.”

  The hunter in me analyzed everything as I walked into the house.

  It was a warm home. Lived in, shared, loved. There were scratches on the hardwood floors in the foyer, probably done by a dog, a few faint stains on the carpet in the living room, and many, many photographs. On tables, on shelves, and on the walls. However, for every one photo of Tessa, there were at least five photos of each of her sisters. And many others where Marjorie and Melissa were together but without their big sister.

  Walking ahead of us, Paul disappeared into the kitchen.

  Tessa and I were about to do the same, until a new voice rang out.

  “Tessa!” Melissa, the youngest at eight years old, came running down the stairs. She only stopped once she bumped into Tessa and had her arms tight around Tessa’s neck.

  With a big smile, Tessa lifted Melissa up. “My goodness, you’re getting big.”

  Melissa, who looked a lot like Tessa, but with her golden hair a darker shade and darker blue eyes, pulled back and smiled. “We went in for a checkup last week. The doctor said I gained eight pounds and grew three inches last year,” she announced.

  Tessa opened her mouth wide, pretending to be in shock. “No way! But I’ve seen you, what, once a month? You did not grow that much.”

  “I did!” Melissa insisted, still smiling, still happy.

  Tessa’s eyes found mine, and her smile went down a notch. She held my stare for a moment, and then turned back to her sister. “Hey, where’s Marjorie? I have a gift for her.”

  Melissa rolled her eyes. “She’s upstairs getting ready.” Tessa chuckled. And I found myself wanting to smile at them. “She already threw her brush at me when I asked to use her sparkly eyeshadow too.”

  “Well, we’ll let the birthday girl get ready. We don’t want to bother her now, right?”

  “Right.” Melissa then glanced at me with her big, blue eyes. “And who are you? Tessa’s new boyfriend?”

  “No,” Tessa and I said together.

  “Hm, no, Mel,” Tessa continued. “This is Landon. He’s a friend.”

  Melissa narrowed her eyes at us. “A friend?”

  “Yes, we’re friends,” I said, thinking of the word new. What did Melissa mean by new boyfriend? Had Tessa been dating someone else lately? “So, you’re the pretty sister?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “I am?”

  Beside her, Tessa’s smile widened.

  “Sure you are.”

  Melissa leaned closer and whispered, “Just don’t let Marjorie hear that.”

  I winked at her. “That’s our secret.”

  The red in her cheeks intensified, and she laughed.

  Paul’s head peeked out of the kitchen. “Come on, you three. Lots of work to do in here. We could use the help.”

  The three of us filed into the kitchen—a small cozy room with light blue cabinets and white counters, an island facing a wooden breakfast table and barstools, and a lot of food.

  “Mom, did you do all the food yourself?” Tessa asked, staring at the many sheets of unbaked goods.

  “I told her to or
der from a store but she said—”

  “It doesn’t taste as good,” Regina interrupted Paul. “And I’m right. Later, everyone will be complimenting the food, and it’ll be worth it.”

  Tessa sighed. “How can we help?”

  Regina told Melissa to grab the paper plates and napkins from the pantry, Tessa to finish a recipe. Then she looked at Paul and me. “You two can go finish the backyard.”

  “Yes, my love,” Paul said. He turned to me with an amused smile. “Come help me outside.”

  I nodded, glad Regina had given me a task instead of throwing me out of her house. After a quick glance at Tessa, I followed Paul outside.

  * * *

  TESSA

  * * *

  Landon followed my stepfather into the backyard without saying a word. I mixed the dough for another batch of mini chicken potpies while I watched them through the kitchen’s window.

  Several folding tables and chairs were spread on the left side of the yard. Paul picked up a plastic table cover and store-bought decorations and showed Landon how to set them up—my mother had probably shown Paul first. Then, they divided and conquered, each one working as fast as they could, as if they were keeping tally and wanted to see who would do more tables at the end.

  “Mel, go check on Marjorie, please,” my mother said.

  Mel grunted. “Do I have to?”

  “Please,” my mother repeated, her tone harder. She was saying please to be polite, because that hadn’t been a request. That had been an order.

  Grumbling, Melissa stomped away.

  I chuckled. “Still defiant?”

  “Always.” My mother came to the sink beside me to wash her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice.

  I turned my attention to her. “For?”

  “For your father.” She looked at me, her blue eyes sad. “For not going to the funeral. I’m so sorry. I should have gone. Not for him, but for you. You needed me there, and when I finally realized that, it was too late.”

  My heart squeezed. “It’s okay, Mom. I understand.”

  “I didn’t get along with him and had no idea what he was up to, other than still hunting, but I never wished …” She sighed. Her eyes gained a thin sheen of moisture. “Some part of me still loved him. Will always love him. I wanted him to be safe. To have a long life.”

  I dropped the bowl and whisk on the counter, and put one arm around my mother’s shoulders. “I wanted that too,” I confessed. “For so long, I was so mad at him for letting us go. Then, I was even madder when he took in Landon. But I never wished him anything bad.”

  “I know.” My mother wiped away the unshed tears. “I know.” She took a long breath, and then reached for the bowl I had been working on. She stirred the whisk, testing the dough. “So …” She glanced out the window. “Landon. Hm. What’s going on there?”

  “Nothing!”

  “It better be nothing,” she said, her tone going ice cold. “He’s a hunter, dear. When you think they finally fall for you, they push you away.”

  “Mom …”

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” I didn’t answer. “Isn’t it?”

  “I guess so,” I whispered, feeling down. I didn’t understand why. I did not intend to date Landon. Why did I care?

  My mother went back to the island, where she got another set of food ready. Why she put herself through so much work, I didn’t understand. Yes, it was nice to have people complimenting your food, but couldn’t she have done only one or two dishes? Maybe three? She didn’t need to go overboard and feed the whole neighborhood herself.

  “Oh, hey, you’re here.”

  I turned around to greet the birthday girl and had to swallow a surprised gasp. I knew she had a new phase going on, one where she thought she was twenty instead of twelve, but I had not expected to see her looking so grown up.

  “Happy birthday!” I said, still staring at her outfit. A short black skirt and a tight pink blouse with too much cleavage. And what were those breasts? At her age, I had barely filled a training bra. To complete her outfit, she put on high-heel sandals and way too much makeup. Her usually straight golden hair was curled at the ends. Someone had spent a lot of time getting ready for what was supposed to be a kid’s birthday party.

  I picked up the gift bag I had left on one of the kitchen’s stools—the college logo stretched big on the side.

  Marjorie squealed and lunged at me. She snatched the gift from me and ripped at the bag. Another louder squeal echoed through the kitchen, hurting my ears, as she took in the cheerleader outfit from my university.

  “Oh my God, this is perfect! I love it!” She embraced me tight. “Thanks! I’m gonna try it right now.”

  She ran out of the room, almost tripping over her high heels, and I smiled after her.

  My mother chuckled beside me. “Now it’ll be impossible to make her take that off.”

  The smile slipped off my lips, and I turned to my mother with a slight frown. “What’s with that outfit? And those shoes? And that makeup? Why aren’t you protesting?”

  She shrugged. “Oh, I’ve protested. I’ve grounded her. But the only thing I get is more defiance and rebellion. So, we’re trying a compromise. I let her wear those clothes and makeup on occasions like this—” She gestured to the backyard. “—when I can supervise what’s going on, but the rest of the time, I have to approve her outfits.”

  “Not a bad idea.” I grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. “I just didn’t expect to see her so grown up, so fast.”

  My mother shot me a look, which was a mixture of sad and mad. “You haven’t been home in almost three months.” Wow, had it been that long? “At her age, the phases come and go fast.” The landline rang, and my mother answered the cordless phone without thinking. “Hello?”

  She walked out of the kitchen, and I continued my previous work. I poured the dough into a baking sheet and put it in the oven. Then, I went to the sink to wash my hands. Automatically, I looked out into the backyard. Landon and Paul had finished setting up the decorations on the tables and were now making sure the balloons and streamers and the happy birthday sign were secured to their places.

  Landon seemed so at ease, as if he was used to kids’ birthday parties and being among clueless family members. I frowned, wondering what Paul would say if he found out what Landon did. What my father had done for so many years. My mother never told him any of that. As far as Paul, Marjorie, and Melissa were concerned, demons and vampires and witches didn’t exist and never would.

  Paul grabbed two beers from the cooler and handed one to Landon. He narrowed his eyes at the bottle, probably analyzing the situation. If he should drink at a stranger’s house. Landon took the bottle; they clanked the necks, and drank a big gulp. Paul said something and both corners of Landon’s lips pulled up—the largest smile I had seen on him in forever. I had never seen him smile. Not that we had had a lot of time together, and with our past, I knew he was wary of me. I too had many reservations toward him.

  As if he had sensed my stare, Landon glanced at the window, at me. His lips turned upside down, but he dipped his chin at me. I gave him a little wave, and then turned my back to the window.

  Why did I even bother thinking about him and his smile? It was ridiculous.

  I pushed those thoughts from my mind and got busy organizing the rest of the food before the party. At some point, my mother returned from her phone call and helped me.

  Twenty minutes before the official party time, more family members arrived. Paul’s sister, June, her husband, Eric, and their kids, Aaron and Lucia, along with Paul’s parents, Martha and Russel. They all greeted me politely, but they fussed over Melissa and especially Marjorie.

  “Let’s go join them,” my mother said, taking my hand and tugging me to the backyard with them all.

  Even though I felt even more of an outsider when they were all together, I let my mother guide me to the party. We had never talked about it, but I was sure she wanted to be a bridge. Sh
e wanted to make sure I was connected with Paul and his side of the family. And with my own half-sisters. For the most part, it worked.

  But as they all got together in the backyard and formed a tight circle, embracing and talking and laughing with each other, I knew and felt I would never be a part of this family.

  Thirteen

  TESSA

  * * *

  I joined Landon along the short pine tree line at the back fence as Marjorie’s friends and their parents arrived. Fourteen eleven- and twelve-year-old girls. It was too much to look at, let alone be near and hear their conversation.

  “How is it going?” I asked, teasing. “Having fun?”

  The incredulous look he gave me. All he needed now was to roll his eyes at me. “Right. Because hearing these girls squealing and talking about dresses, and who wore it best, and school boys is my idea of fun.”

  I tilted my head. “Haven’t we talked about this already? I didn’t think hunters had fun.”

  “Maybe you thought wrong.”

  “And what is your idea of fun?”

  He glanced at the empty beer bottle in his hands. “Hm, that’s classified.”

  That statement brought all kind of images to my mind—Landon racing after a demon, cutting the head off a witch, staking a vampire, on top of a werewolf before burying a silver bullet in his head. Landon at a bar with women drooling over him. Landon in bed with one of those girls.

  I hugged my stomach, not liking where this conversation and my thoughts were heading.

  I remained silent as the party progressed. At some point, I helped my mother serve drinks to the guests, passing around finger food, and later lighting the candles on the cake. We sang happy birthday to Marjorie, and I helped serving cake too.

  Finally, after almost three hours, the party seemed to be winding down.

  I found Landon in the living room, looking at the many pictures spread through the place.

  “It looks like you have a happy family,” he said, still staring at a big picture of the five of us. It had been about two years ago at my high school graduation party.