Ghosts and Hunter Boys (Misfit Academy Book 2)

by A. Vers

  I blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  “He was a hunter, Morgan.” Ryder’s tan skin was pale, ashen. “And not just any hunter. He works for the Horn of God. And we are in deep shit because he knows exactly who and what you are.”

  Chapter 8

  Ryder

  Morgan stared at me, puzzlement creasing her nose in little pale lines. “I don’t understand.”

  Honestly, neither did I. Seeing the bolt tattoo just barely visible under his sleeve had sent a jolt through me. One to get Morgan as far from the hunter as possible.

  And I was kicking myself for not noticing it sooner.

  I should’ve known with the missing person ad that we would draw attention. But hunters? Here? In Salem?

  “The Horn is an elite group of hunters in sleeper cells around the world,” I told her. “When something big goes down, a local cell is ‘awoken’ and they come out of the damn woodwork to stop the threat.”

  “But that doesn’t explain how he knew who I am, Ryder,” she told me, her lilac eyes resolute, but weary, like she was unsure. Good. I needed her concerned. “He seemed nice. Wouldn’t he have attacked me otherwise?”

  She had a point.

  I leaned against the side of the Jeep and folded my arms. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to freak out, but there is a missing persons ad in the papers for you.”

  Her already porcelain skin turned pale. “A missing … person … ad?” She swayed and caught herself on the Jeep.

  “Someone is offering a reward for your return to Lokworth.” I watched her. “Your parents, maybe?”

  Her eyes snapped to mine and anger radiated from her in waves. “I won’t go back.” Her little chin was set. “I won’t.”

  I held my hands up. “I wasn’t going to turn you in. Money or no money.” She blinked. “But it puts us in a tough spot.”

  “What little I know of the Horn is what Dad told me. But they don’t kill without cause.” My chest and stomach burned with that truth. The scariest hunters on the planet had more empathy for the monsters than my own flesh and blood. “But they are in Salem for a reason. I don’t know if they tracked us here, or if they are hunting someone else, but we stay out their way and off their damn radar.”

  She took a step, halted, and walked to me. Her small hands were soft on my forearm as she gazed up into my eyes. “Okay, Ryder,” she said, scouring my expression. She was so close her natural coolness kept the heat of the sun from my skin. It was refreshing, like drinking a glass of cold water in the peak of summer. “If you say he is dangerous, then he is. I trust you.”

  Those words fell into my stomach like a bag of rocks.

  Would she trust me if she knew the thoughts I had about her? If even having her this close was pushing every worry about the Horn to the back of my mind in favor of daydreams of capturing her full lips with my own?

  I uncrossed my arms and slid my hand over her cheek to cup the side of her face. Her lilac eyes sparked with something darker, but more tentative.

  The kiss we shared in the forests outside Lokworth Academy seemed like eons ago. But I remembered the ferocity in which she kissed me back. How her long legs felt wrapped around my waist as she nibbled my lip.

  That was Morgan unbridled. When her passion was high and her pure heart was racing.

  And I wanted it more than I wanted to breathe.

  I stroked my thumb over her cheek and drew away. “Come on. We need to get back to the house. I need to see if I can exorcise a ghost and set traps for the Horn. Just in case.”

  We drove for nearly two hours in complicated turns and unnecessary zags to make sure no one could trace us from the pier. Only when I swore the Jeep was running on fumes, did I turn us back to the abandoned farmstead. When we pulled into the overgrown drive, I sent Morgan inside to make us a late lunch while I scoured the property for tracks or trails.

  I didn’t believe the Horn knew where we were hiding out. It wasn’t arrogance that made me feel that way. The hunter at the church hadn’t seemed surprised to see us, more like we were unimportant. I wanted to keep it that way.

  Morgan never said a word. She seemed content to let me work through whatever I needed to do. And I appreciated it more than I wanted to admit. It was nice to be respected, to be trusted.

  It didn’t matter that my abilities were heinous in nature, and that two months before meeting her, I would have taken her life without qualm. But I wasn’t that person anymore.

  And it damn sure wasn’t the man I wanted to grow up to be.

  So I searched the property and set up simple trip wires and alarms using scrounged bits of rusted metal from the barn. I strung them on some old half-rotted rope deep in the brush just outside the window, and hung the rest on the knobs for both doors. The barn itself I shut up tight, and I even used a hefty rock to nail the rest of the windows closed.

  When I joined Morgan inside, I found her at the counter, plates of sandwiches in each hand. I had the strongest urge to turn her and lift her so that I could reach her properly. But the emotion inside of me wasn’t sexual. Though it was.

  I wanted to press my head into the curve of her neck and just breathe. To feel her coolness against my skin.

  It was such a strong need that I dug my nails into my palms until they ached.

  I rinsed my hands in some rain water collected in an old bucket, grabbed a sandwich, and sprinkled holy water through the house while I ate.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t know enough of the rites to perform an exorcism in truth. I settled for Saint Michael’s prayer and several Hail Mary’s uttered with enough conviction that I expected the spirit to flee screaming at any moment.

  Morgan found me as the last words fell from my lips in our room, her head tilted. She seemed to wait, to make sure she wasn’t interrupting.

  “It’s okay,” I told her, almost surprising myself with the gentle, husky rasp in my voice. Her hovering, so unsure, was not helping me keep my distance. But I didn’t want to scare her. To startle her. “I’m done.”

  She offered a small smile. “I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk. To get some fresh air.” She gestured toward the kitchen. “It’s cooling off and we never got to train this morning.”

  Training. Right.

  Damn.

  I shoved a hand through my hair and just peered at her. “I’m sorry, Morgan. I promised and it keeps getting postponed, doesn’t it?”

  Her smile brightened as she twisted her bare foot a little, drawing my eye up her long legs. “It’s okay,” she said, echoing me. “I understand a lot has happened since we arrived.”

  “And you’ve been patient,” I told her and meant it. “But right now I need to watch the house.”

  Morgan was not the kind of girl that pouted when she didn’t get her way. She was a realist, and I hated that her past aided that. She knew we had stepped into a new world of shit, but instead of ranting and raving at the unfairness of it all, she let it roll off of her like water.

  I knew grown-ups that could have taken a page from her book.

  But as my words fell into the space between us, her lilac eyes flashed with disappointment. “Of course,” she said. Then she spun on her heel and simply walked away.

  There was no childish stomping, no slamming door.

  Only, I didn’t think either of those things would have made me flinch as much as the stony silence that followed.

  Chapter 9

  Morgan

  I walked down the hall and turned not toward the locked front door, but to the empty front room. The wood paneling was dingy and cobwebs spanned from the unused, dusty hearth. Several thick patches of the same rested in the corners. The whole space needed a good cleaning, but I was not sure what one used to dispel a room of such grime.

  I wrapped my arms around my waist and tried not to feel the disappointment inside me.

  Ryder was right to watch the house. To keep us safe.

  I certainly did not know how to do th
at either.

  Making sandwiches had been an adventure in and of itself. Every day I realized that despite years at Lokworth Academy, I did not know how to do much.

  I could dress myself. Bathe myself. I knew the basics of feeding and how shifters behaved in and out of their territories. I understood the sway of the moon, the pull of the Ley lines. How witches drew on everything around them for their crafts …

  But I did not know how to cook basic sustenance. Or how to protect those I cared about from my enemies.

  Or even how to protect myself.

  I asked Ryder to teach me. To show me how to fight if I ever needed to know how. And with Giroux out there, somewhere, it was only a matter of time before I would need that knowledge.

  But with this Horn of God group, Ryder’s attention was shifting. And well it should.

  He was on the run just as much as I. We were fighting to stay free of families we had not chosen. Both had blood on their hands and sins that seemed visited on their children.

  My head turned to the open archway that led back into the hall.

  Was I really angry that he was just trying to do what was best?

  I took a step. And then another.

  Ryder had to know that it was fear, fear of Giroux that made me walk away. Not anger at him. But anger at myself.

  I rushed to the archway and slammed into him as he turned to step inside the room. Ryder’s body was warm, strong, and so very alive pressed against me.

  “Morgan?”

  I tilted my head back as his hands tightened over my biceps. “I’m sorry,” I said, leaning back to extricate myself from his solid hold. With him so close, the steady beat of his heart was rhythmic and intoxicating. I wanted to taste his blood again. To really taste it. Not to awaken with it on my tongue.

  I did step back then.

  He watched me, his thick hair disheveled like he had been running his hands through the strands over and over.

  “My fault,” he said. “I’m sorry, too. For blowing off the training thing. I made you a promise. And so far, I suck at keeping it.”

  My eyes widened. “No.” I gripped his hand and squeezed. “I only pressed because of Giroux. I know you have your reasons and—”

  “Morgan,” he said, his lips turning upward in a wry smile. “You’re too damn nice for a vampire.”

  I flushed and dropped my gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  His sigh was long and forceful. Calloused fingertips ghosted along my cheek before funneling back into my hair. His touch was firm, demanding my attention. I raised my gaze to his.

  “Be angry with me,” he said, forcing me to keep looking at him with the solidness of his hold on my skin. “It’s okay for you to be pissed. You can rant and rave. Stomp your little foot if you want. I can get tunnel vision otherwise. Staring out the windows is making me more paranoid. I set up alarms for a reason. If someone shows up, they can tell me.”

  My lips parted, but nothing came out.

  “And stop looking at me like that,” he demanded, his voice dropping several octaves until the already deep timbre rolled along my senses.

  “Like what?” I breathed. Had I been looking at him oddly? I hadn’t intended to. Perhaps my affection for him showed.

  I flushed harder at the thought.

  His hazel irises scoured my face and he let his hand fall back at his side. “Nothing. Never mind.”

  My heart beat wildly. But it wasn’t nothing. And I opened my mouth to say so.

  There was a small click and then the slow creak of a rusty hinge.

  Ryder and I turned at the same time to peer at the previously closed door on the far side of the room. The panel was now cracked, and a narrow sliver of darkness was all that was visible in the space between jamb and door.

  “I would ask if you opened that,” Ryder muttered, “but even you’re not that fast.”

  I sidled closer to him. “Do you think ...” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Not aloud.

  Sometimes speaking, even thinking, about certain beings could give them power. Evil was one of those things.

  I did not know that spirits were evil. Not entirely, anyway. But there were certain kinds that leaned more in one direction that the other. And any being, pure energy or otherwise, that caused me to harm Ryder was no friend of mine.

  Or his.

  “Maybe,” he admitted, seeming to follow my line of thought, even without my saying a word.

  “Should we close it?” I whispered.

  He shook his head. “We don’t know why it opened the door now except as a potential invitation. And though I appreciate the invite, I’d rather not.” Amusement flared despite our situation. “Unfortunately, closing it may also piss it off,” he added.

  My head canted as I puzzled that out. “Agreed.”

  His strong hand flowed down my forearm and he slowly drew me back with him toward the archway. The door stood open still. There was no gust of mildewed air, or rattling chains. Nothing but that dark sliver.

  Only once we were in the hall did Ryder turn fully around.

  But he didn’t lead the way to the room, as I had suspected he would. He drew me along behind him, out the kitchen door, down the porch steps, and out into the yard.

  “What are we doing?” I asked, confused.

  He turned me to face him, his jaw clenched. “Putting distance between us and Casper.”

  “Who?” I asked, even more perplexed.

  His lips quirked, then drew wide in a broad, heart-stopping smile. Ryder threw his head back and laughed in a rich roll that made his shoulders shake and my stomach flutter in strange ways.

  It was the first time I had ever heard him laugh. Really laugh.

  I stared openly at him as the sunlight faded on the horizon and his tan skin gleamed in the dying rays.

  He was even more beautiful when he laughed. More human and full of a light that many supernaturals could not emulate. It was in the vitality inside him. His soul. His spirit.

  Ryder sobered and wiped at the shiny corner of his eyes. “You know, if we can ever get to the point where we aren’t running for our lives or chasing off ghosts ... We are going to have to sit down and have a movie marathon.”

  His words sparked a memory of his warm body next to mine in a dark theater. Ryder had taken me to my first movie weeks ago, and it was an experience I would gladly repeat.

  I nodded, vehement. “I would like that. I would like that very much.”

  He grinned. “Then it’s a date.” His eyes widened and his cheeks warmed. “I mean—” He shoved his hand into his hair. “It doesn’t have to be a date. You probably don’t even have dates in vampire society.” The last was a low, disparaging mumble.

  I stepped toward him, smiling softly, and laid a placating hand on his arm. “I know what a date is, Ryder.” His irises glinted. “And my answer is yes. To any date with you.”

  His head turned at that, fixing me with his entire focus. A focus that thrummed all the way down to my bare feet until I curled my toes into the still warm grass.

  I rose up onto the tips of my toes and feathered a light kiss over his cheek. “I will go on any date with you that you want.” His spicy scent filled my senses and I drew in another heady inhale before I dropped down again to watch him. “As long as you are with me, I don’t care what we do. Or when. I can wait.”

  “Morgan?”

  “Yes, Ryder?”

  He swallowed, and the color in his face darkened. “Would you like to have a movie date with me? Tonight?”

  Something shifted inside my chest. It was warm and gentle, but burning brighter with every second he watched me.

  “Yes,” I heard myself breathe. “Yes, I would.”

  Chapter 10

  Ryder

  My head reeled and every breath was like sucking in pure oxygen.

  I had never been so excited to do anything. Morgan smiled softly up at me as we walked through the field to the edge of the drive-in lot. Her skin was still pink from the dr
ills I showed her. Some easy punching combos and escape moves seemed to elevate her mood further, and I wanted to call the emotion pouring from her happiness.

  It was the only word I had for it. Because it was all I could feel, too.

  I couldn’t stop looking at her. Couldn’t rein in the euphoria inside me. She had said yes. Quickly. With no hesitation. And though there was a nagging voice in the back of my head that was screaming bringing her to the drive-in was bad, I just wanted to be alone with her. Like people our age should be able to do. Not running from psycho dark druids or estranged fathers who wanted to kill the one girl you couldn’t stop thinking about.

  I wanted to hold her hand. To let her curl up beside me, her palm on my chest and her head on my shoulder. I wanted to be fucking normal.

  And I wanted her.

  She glanced up at me again. “Why did we not bring the Jeep?” she asked as I held apart some brambles for her to squeeze through the broken section of the fence.

  Perceptive was my Morgan. It made me smile.

  “The Horn is in town, and they had a tracker on the car. It’s pretty easily recognizable. And I’d rather not risk them tracking us by it,” I told her as I eyed the distance to the screen before setting out the blanket I brought under two towering oaks. The space was secluded, and with her enhanced hearing, she would be able to hear the movie just fine.

  With the cover of darkness and our nondescript clothes, we were not easily visible. We were just another teenage couple going to take up space on the lawn for a late summer movie.

  “Besides, you’re fast enough to get away without it. And I can fight my way out if the need arises,” I added.

  She nibbled at her lip and peered around at the numerous cars parked before the tall white screen set on the hill opposite. “Do you think they will be here?”

  I dropped onto the blanket and patted the spot beside me. “You let me worry about that.”

  Still, she hovered.

  I leaned over and tugged on her hand until she finally sat beside me. In a pair of jeans and her uniform blouse, she seemed more grown-up than usual. And even more model worthy.