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  “No!” I sounded too much like a bratty schoolgirl. Whoever I saw in the woods was long gone now.

  He curbed and went left around the gym looking back with a cross between a scary sneer and a smile, leaving me stranded. I stood there a second longer, watching his Hunter boy stride, then went back towards the right side of the gym where I’d come from wondering what just happened.

  Above me, the Hunter symbol leered at me, reminding me of my purpose here. It's arms crossed, the Hunters were the fighters of our supernatural world though we were all skilled for battle.

  x

  I made it to class as it was beginning and noted that no one noticed my lateness or at the very least, acknowledged it. Students were gathered in a large group listening to the coach disperse them into groups. I hoped I hadn’t missed my name being called.

  I surreptitiously glanced around but didn’t recognize anyone from my first class but the shaggy red headed boy who gave every answer the teacher wanted, the obvious overachiever.

  I walked to the bottom bleacher and put my stack of books down wishing now I’d thought to bring a shoulder bag. When I turned back to the group the coach clapped his hands and the students went in every direction. I either missed my name, or it was never called. Ugh! Walking up to the one called Coach Burton, as strongly as I could muster and a tad bit standoffish, I asked, “Where do you want me?”

  He sized me up. Eww!

  “You’re the new one. Late in the semester.” He looked around like he was trying to figure out where to put me. I didn’t want to know what he might be thinking.

  “I’ll take her in my group,” a familiar, deeper voice called from behind me. The only familiar voice I’d heard since arriving here at Green Academy.

  I wheeled stiffly around to the familiar dark and deepened voice standing behind me. Dark blondish brown waves of hair falling in his right eye as he leaned slanted on the same leg. Tanned from the sun smooth skin. All muscle. Everywhere. Guess the rest of the little details didn’t register while we were outside sizing each other up and down based on word skills.

  Eyes wide, I didn’t mean to open my mouth, but yet I did. Closing it, I really wanted to protest, but the warm crazy feeling inside my stomach told my lips to shut the crap up.

  “Fine,” coach waved a hand at him, “but watch her. I have no idea what she can do.”

  All things male laughed.

  As if upping the ante, Mr. Hotness adds, “Considered her well watched.”

  An unidentifiable voice behind said, “Strip searched. Naked with her clothes on.” I ignored the taunts.

  This boy, if I can call him that, wiggled a finger at me and assumed I’d follow readily. When he stopped and straightened his back in my direction, he caught me looking him up and down and smiled an already familiar devilish smile in my direction. I couldn’t stop the blush coming in loud and clear, but curled my eyes up to hide it. I’m supposed to be this awesome warrior, not a sappy schoolgirl. Is this why my father never let boys into the court?

  “Come on!” he said and turned with a Neanderthal walk to his stride.

  I followed, reluctantly, and walked purposely slower than him. All around me weapons were flying. A heated rush of adrenaline went through my entire body either from the thrill of using my weapons or just seeing others with skills not my own.

  We ended our trail at the knife boards. Score! I can throw knives better than anything else I can do in this world. Of course, I’d have to move on to archery, swords, defense, slingshots, and what I called the “badaxe". It was a small axe the American Indians termed the “tomahawk.” I’d only ever used it in a weapon’s class. Well, class of one since I never went to any kind of school with others.

  He moved over the range and handed me the knives. He couldn’t know what I could do, he was a Hunter. I was not!

  I nodded and decided to play along with his little game of helping the timid mouse. At least, that’s how I felt until now. I pretended to act clumsy with holding only four knives and watched as he instructed me to hold them his way.

  “If you’ll put the butt of the knife in your palms and position your body just right to angle them down the range,” he said demonstrating now. I watched with the best eager expression I could conjure, so it seemed I was very interested in what he had to say. I added nodding in the right places. His face showed he was enjoying this. I sideways glanced at some of the faces watching, even from the other ranges. Tall, fair and handsome was putting on a show and everyone was enjoying his art and my newness. I say fair because it certainly described his appearance but not his whole package. Something dark lurked inside. Maybe just a secret or two, but hidden.

  I waited very patiently to let him finish. When he stepped back and threw two knives they hit the yellow inner circle, but not the very center. Everyone in our group gave an outward praising sigh for his ego and he peacocked up to the challenge. He turned and walked by me brushing my bare shoulder with his fingertips where the sleeves ended and whispered, “Just give it a try.” Something electric jolted into my arm and hightailed it through my entire body. He freaking shocked me.

  I nodded with no readable expression. I was good at that too. But he’d felt it. And his face showed it.

  I stepped up the range knowing every eye in my group and most other groups in the gym had stopped to watch. In fact, the gym was getting vastly quiet fast. I held the knives the way I, a left-handed and skilled since the age of five fighter, had learn to hold them from my father many years ago. I stopped a mere three steps before the wooden barrier where I’d always left the space I needed to torque my body just the perfect angle to release my knives into a target. Only having four was a cake walk.

  I positioned just right, let out my breath like so, relaxed my arms, and…hesitated. Yes, I hesitated. They wanted me to fail! I will not let that happen. I hid my fear by doing the opposite. I’ll give my opponent something to remember me by. I cocked my head, gave my cold green eyes to my enemy, and didn’t intend to blink once until it was all over.

  I sucked in the breath, and with my only drawback, my vocal cords, let out a smooth, swooping motion in a blur of two seconds flat, landing all four smack inside the center of the target. My eyes never left his face.

  My body still in a leaned forward lunge, I froze with a smile that I soon hid quickly and bowed my back upward to continue to look at him with the best doe-eyed look I could give this poor boy to ease his embarrassment. Not! So didn’t happen.

  The whole gym roared with applause. Mummers of “wow” and “awesome” and “bad-a” and “she’s better than Calum” came from every direction. I drowned out the inane chatter of the crowd.

  I would never forget the moment this breathless beauty of a boy left his mouth hanging in a giant O pattern while staring straight at me and I at him. I saw him swallow deeply at the fold of his arms and knuckles turning white. If he mad or embarrassed, I didn’t feel it. There wasn't an ounce of fear.

  I tossed my jaded eyes back up to his dark, unreadable blue ones. Yes, there were definitely a darker shade than before as if the blues lightened and darkened based on his moods. His mouth closed now. He straightened and stood taller with his thread-like dripping coils of hair hanging in his eyes, lowered his arms, and finally uttered as if amused, “So you don’t need a knives lesson, I’m guessing?” He was either saving his dignity or inviting me to something else. Which one, I wasn’t sure. I tossed my loose hair back over my shoulder in an attempt to peek at the roving eyes across the crowd.

  I nodded a satisfied no.

  “Do you speak?” He opened his palms and crushed his arms low to his side. He showed me a small grin, but a frown drew his brows together. My eyes followed his arms down. His followed my mine to my hips.

  “Are you asking for lessons? Sure, I’ll teach you,” I shrugged. At the first sound of my voice, he gave a “aha” expression but then processed what I’d said to him.

  That made his face screw up. However, he lapsed back in
to tough guy and answered, “No, but I could teach you a few other things,” he lowered his tone hinting at something else.

  That comment brought the crowd around us a measurable laugh. Especially the guys!

  This bad boy look didn’t fool me. He had some hidden depths beneath him somewhere. But oh, how the fear was back now. He couldn’t sense my ability to sense it nor could I find its source.

  I shrugged, “Interest is the key. And the daggers I’m throwing hit the mark every time. No room for let downs.”

  This was my inner fire. My cold heart shining through. I couldn’t afford any emotional ties. Not even a hot looking Hunter boy who was simply that, a Hunter.

  “You wouldn’t be let down, I assure you.” His smile thwarted a few giggles from nearby Hunter girls. More like Amazon girls once I let my eyes skim the closing in on us audience for a second.

  I, Stace Rohkea, alias to hide my identity as the sister to the kidnapped prince of my court stand a mere four inches shy of six feet, curvy, but not too skinny, creamy complexioned, and long blind you in the sun blonde hair, stood out among the rest of these bronzed muscle bound all brunette Tarzan girls.

  If anyone asked, I was a Hunter who was the product of a father who mated with a human and therefore produced an “abnormality” of sorts. I wasn’t happy with the scenario, but couldn’t think of a more convincing story to explain my differences. For now, it would have to do. Now that I was here, I stood out like sheep in the wolf’s den. But I will do the butchering.

  He loosened up when he saw the coach approaching and walked to stand beside me. Dark and dangerous brushed my shoulder again. Almost as if he was trying it out to see if another shock happened again.

  Coach inched over and whispered something to the Hunter boy. Then coach stepped back and grunted to me, “Perhaps knives aren’t what you need right now. Is there anything else you can’t do, or need practice with, or are we all going to watch the ugly duckling take us down one at time.”

  That was uncalled for. I don’t know why, but I peeked at the dimples beside me for his reaction. His face was in shock too. Hmm! “Hearing my achievements recited is with certainty, a gratifying thing, but I fail to see what point you are trying to make. Perhaps, you’ll just have to find out one at a time,” I said smiling the best of my sinister smiles in storage. I wouldn’t back down or show weakness. I’ve already let dimples see some. I’ll have to remedy that.

  “Fine! Calum take her to the archery range. Then we will show her the pit when she’s tired out.”

  So they think. I needed chocolate badly.

  Coach looked at dimples. Calum. That’s his name.

  Calum turned to me when coach walked away. “You make enemies fast.”

  This comes from the arrogant Hunter boy. “Not intentional.”

  “Calum,” he held out his hand to me and I watched, “my name.”

  “Stace,” I finally told but didn’t take his hand, just crooked my back and looked for the archery range.

  “Okay, you talk much, ever?” Both arms were back at his side now.

  “If the conversation is mildly interesting, yes. Vulgar and rude, no.” Could he be any more maddening? I couldn’t tell what he might be thinking. He’d followed me in the shadows all morning. I was intrigued, for sure. Making headway, not!

  “Let’s start over,” Calum winked and threw a killer smile in my direction.

  “What’s done is done. A jerk by any other name is still a jerk.” Hello, Dr. Jekyll. Information and whereabouts and then I’ll get myself kicked out of this place.

  “Fine. But for the record, the reputation they set for you doesn’t come close to what I’ve seen Miss Irritable and—

  His flippant attitude annoyed me so I wheeled around from finding the archery center letting anger show too much, “What is that supposed to mean.” Hej! I reverted back to my silent self-inflicted reprimands in the native tongue my father insisted I learn at the early age of three. I was fluent in three languages.

  Calum seemed to like that he had my attention back to him. “Just that rumor was you were an easy kill.”

  I wasn’t sure if he’d had another meaning or if it meant simply that. Either way, I was saying too much.

  “We’ll see,” he decided faltering his step a little from where he stood by me, “but my bets are wavering.”

  I wanted to smile with intention, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I left him standing there, too close to me anyway, and headed to the archery range feeling like Moses parting the Red Sea. It was too much of a thrill to stand this close to him and I really wasn’t sure why I felt this way, but I moved through the crowd in a silent evasion. It was like a buzzing burst of pain and comfort syncing together.

  Our hands reached the weapons stand holding the bows at the same time. When the silent argument ended with him taking the bow I wanted, I sneered so quietly I did not think it would register, but he let it go and gave it back.

  The bow eased back having been used often. I liked my bow. I missed my bow. I picked up the arrow, licked my finger and smoothed the feather though I knew this did very little for this particular arrow. I knew every eye was watching once more for the new girl now going for round two. If they want a show, they will get it.

  I reversed and looked at Mr. Hyde, aka Calum, in the shady part of the room and watched his stance nervously move back and forth. I wondered if anyone else noticed his nervousness. If it was a regular habit.

  I smiled my best devilish smile at him, nodded once, and turned to the target. He wanted my attention, and he was getting it. I pulled the string, arched my back, leaned the arrow into my cheek, let my tongue slip out slightly parting my lips, scoped my aim, and released. It hit dead center. Since I didn’t need to lunge forward at archery I left my body facing the target for the audience’s reaction. I wanted to see Mr. Hyde’s reaction specifically. But, I didn’t.

  Instead I waited for a second, then picked up another arrow, turned, and handed them both to Calum without looking him in the eye.

  He took them and I opted to look up since his hand was still attached to the bow I held. I knew his mind was remembering the crowd by the look in his eyes. He’s easy to read, I thought. Lots of fear now. Real fear.

  I wonder if others read him so well. His eyes looked down to mine and told me his man-pride would kick in. My brother was skilled heavily in it.

  He took the arrows, jerked them away, replaced them in the holder and picked out a larger bow and different arrow. He stepped back farther than where I’d stood to shoot and bent the end of the arrow shaft just slightly. I watched eagerly, really wanted to see him do this, not sure what the outcome might be. I looked to the others watching and felt the challenge in the face of the smart-mouthed coach who would see me fail! If I wasmade to prove myself, so this boy would too. He started this.

  Calum arched his back and I watched the muscles flex in his arms and back again. He scoped his aim. I couldn’t help myself, I wanted to know if he was as fallible as I imagined. He came off as a cocky, sure of himself, show off.

  I was only four feet away from him. Daringly, I walked closer to him standing two feet closer from his arched right-handed arm. I very quietly whispered close enough for only him to hear, “I know a secret.” I don’t know what overcame me.

  And his arrow released simultaneously and hit the target, separating my arrow in two.

  He didn’t relax his stance, but his eyes were watching mine with me still standing only two feet away from him. We weren’t facing each other, but both of us could feel the heat rolling between us. His was mostly anger, but I sensed more. Mine was adrenaline. I loved shocking others.

  After a second he moved, replaced the bow, and walked right up and put his face to mine separating us by inches. His mouth parted like he was going to say something, but didn’t. He leaned and faced the crowd and bowed. I followed suit. They cheered as though the pretend show was a standing ovation and started chanting, “One at a time.”

/>   I slid my smile open for him trying to make it more of a mean-like smile, but I couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling that this little rivalry was causing. It was amusing to see someone match my own. And he seemed as equally amused. My brother was my only equal, and I still mastered everything over him. Yet I still held back. These Hunters couldn’t see my true nature.

  His hand gestured towards the slingshot. Following him, we put on another winner show for the crowd with both equally hitting our target dead on. He purposely stood too close to me this time. Whether he was hoping to cause a distraction or some other reason, I could only speculate. But I managed, barely, to still hit my mark. I’d never admit to him or anyone the nerves he set off. Something was odd about him that reminded me of myself. His energy or abilities or something else.

  The tomahawk axe blade proved as equal.

  Next the swords. This is where he would see my downfall. I briefly debated faking a bathroom break like I would the boys back at court knowing he would see my weakness now. I could choose to leave this weapon behind if I wasn't so intent on seeing this through.

  “The pit.” He simply stated.

  I stepped up to the folded out mats and removed my shouldered pouch I’d left on my side until now. I really wanted to tell him I was too tired, or not warmed up, or just plain not coordinated at a swing back and forth action. I’m more of a singular weaponed person who acted from a fixed position. But I climbed further onto the mat anyway padded and ready.

  A plain silver sword in hand, I stepped up. We bowed, crouched, and he whispered through his teeth, “Begin.” He made one mistake. As he moved in a little closer with his sword raised, he whispered once more, “I won’t hurt you.”

  I squinted my eyes in anger, “But I will.”

  His stunned look still there, I swung at his head. He guarded it of course, but not without an even more dazed look spread across his face. We parried back and forth for over a minute with him guarded and increasingly attempting more daring moves on me, but with care not to hurt me. I desperately needed a break, but wouldn’t give him the pleasure. It wsn’t tiredness, but constant attack and strong emotions built together made me weaker. I hated it!