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Hunter's Revenge
Juliana Haygert
*Copyright 2017 Juliana Haygert*
Chapter One
Landon
This was
where he had told me about my first mission. Right here, seated on this bench,
turned toward the center of the square, gazing up at the tall, majestic willow
tree.
“You’re
ready,” he had said.
I had
been fourteen.
Now,
nine years later, I was again on this bench—alone this time—giving myself a pep
talk about what I had to do.
“I’m
ready,” I told myself in a low voice.
But was
I?
This
would probably be the most difficult mission of my entire life.
Movement
to my right caught my attention, and I snapped my head in that direction.
Across the street, Mrs. Ackerman walked her ugly dog. She stopped at the
bookstore’s window, gazed inside for a moment, then kept on her daily trek.
“There
you are.” Aidan’s voice came from somewhere behind me. He walked around the
bench and sat down beside me. “Here,” he said, offering me a to-go coffee cup
from the Urban Grind.
I took
the cup from him. “Thanks.”
We both
looked at the tree while we sipped our coffee.
“How are
you doing?” he finally asked.
I
shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
The rage
from last night withered my strength, and all that was left behind was a cold
numbness.
He put a
hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I’m here for you. We are all here for you.
You know that, right?”
I
nodded. “I know.”
But he
wasn’t. Not anymore.
“Nathan
told me you were on your way to USC.”
“I was,”
I confessed. “I am. I just had to make a quick stop first.”
“Quick.
How long have you been sitting here?”
I
glanced at my cell phone. Shit. “Over an hour.”
“Hm. So,
are you going to USC or not?”
I sighed. “I
have to. I need to tell her myself.”
“I
know.” He nodded. “And are you ready for that?”
You’re
ready …
“It
doesn’t matter if I am. I have to do it.”
Aidan didn’t
say anything, and I was glad. He knew how hard it was for me to admit my
feelings, and since last night I couldn’t deal with any feelings right now.
We
remained seated side by side for a few more minutes, drinking our coffees and
looking at the tree. Every few minutes, someone we knew walked by and greeted
us with smiles. Nobody here knew yet. And they wouldn’t, not until I told her.
Aidan’s
cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket and glanced at it. “It’s
Douglas. Hey, what’s up?” he answered the call. “Hm, okay.” He paused,
listening to Douglas. “Okay. I’ll be right there.”
He ended
the call and lowered the phone.
“Something
wrong?”
He
stood. “No. He just needs help setting up some things.”
“Isaac’s
things?”
“Yeah,
something like that.” He frowned at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I will
be.”
He
sighed. “All right. I have to go, but if you need anything, let me know.”
“I
will.”
“And
good luck.”
“Thanks.”
I would certainly need it.
Tessa
Damn. I
was going to be late.
I shoved
my feet inside my boots, grabbed my tote from the chair at my desk, and hurried
from my dorm. I rarely slept in on weekdays, so I wouldn’t be late for my
classes. But I had insisted on taking three classes instead of only one during
the summer semester, so now my days were packed and I always felt exhausted.
As I
rushed from my building, I glanced at my phone’s screen. Damn. I only had ten minutes to get to class, and I
still had to walk halfway across the damn campus.
I
hurried my steps.
My phone
vibrated in my hand. I glanced at it again and groaned at seeing the word Mom
flashing on the screen.
“Crap,”
I muttered before answering the phone. “Hi, Mom.”
“Good
morning, Tessa,” she said in a tone too chirpy for so early in the morning.
“Did I wake you up, dear?”
“Nope. I’m walking to class right now.”
“Oh,
good. I’ll make it quick then.” And by that, she meant instead of talking to me
for over an hour, she would try to keep it to forty minutes. Crap. “I
talked to Marjorie, as you asked, and figured out something for you to give
her.”
I
smiled. Marjorie was my half-sister, and her twelfth birthday was coming up
this weekend. I planned to go home so we could all celebrate together. Since I
wanted my gift for her to be a surprise, I had asked Mom to find out what she
wanted.
“What is
it?” Being tight on time, I entered the bookstore in the student center,
deciding to cut through it instead of walking around the building. “What does
she want?”
“A
cheerleader outfit from your school.”
“W-what?”
I halted in the middle of the bookstore and almost bumped into a girl who was
browsing books around a tall shelf. “Sorry,” I mouthed at the girl. I resumed
walking, hurrying my steps even more.
“Yes.” I could see my mom pressing her lips together,
trying to contain her disdain. “She’s into cheerleading now. She has two weeks
of cheerleading summer camp starting next week, and she wants to wear something
special. During a conversation, she mentioned that the cheerleaders from USC
have the coolest outfits.”
I pushed
the bookstore’s door open and exited into the center courtyard. “You mean the
sluttiest.”
“Tessa!”
My mother cleared her throat. “Anyway, that’s what I found out.”
“And you
would be okay if I gave her a micro skirt and a cropped top?”
“Not
really,” she confessed. “Maybe give her a picture of them? Or just the pompoms?
I don’t know. I gave you a tip. Now you make do with that.”
I shook
my head. “All right, Mom, thanks.”
“You’re
welcome.” She paused. “And how are you doing?”
I
sighed. My mother always asked me that. Even when she didn’t call, she texted
me at least twice a day to make sure I was okay. Since she married Paul
fourteen years ago and had Marjorie and Melissa, she had been trying to give me
more attention. She always emphasized I was an important part of the family,
even if Paul wasn’t my real father and the girls were only my half-sisters.
I appreciated her concern, but she would never truly know how I felt. To be
honest, not even I knew. However, I did know I wasn’t really part of that
family, and when I moved away for college a year ago, I confirmed that. I left
and nothing changed. They didn’t need me. They didn’t even miss me.
“I’m fine, Mom.” I rounded a corner and the science building
came into view. “I need to go. My class is starting soon, and I don’t want to
be late.”
“Of
course,” she said, and I pretended I didn’t hear the hurt in her voice. “Of
course. Hm, text me later, okay?”
“I will.
Bye.”
I turned
off the call and shoved my phone inside my jacket’s pocket. Crap. I had only
two more minutes to enter the damn building and get to the fourth floor.
I
climbed the front stairs leading up to the doors two by two, and after a few
steps over the wide landing, reached for the doorknob.
“Tessa.”
My hand
froze. I froze.
“Hey,
get out of the way,” someone said, shoving past me to open the door and get
inside the building.
Slowly,
I turned around and sucked in a sharp breath.
Landon
stood at the base of the stairs, his eyes on me and his hands shoved inside his
jeans pockets.
Damn. He
was even more handsome—and hotter—than I remembered. When he was a teenager,
Landon had worn his light brown hair past his shoulder, and I couldn’t decide
what was sexier: when he left it down, or when he pulled the strands into a
ponytail on his nape. But for the last few years, he had cut it short on the
side and a couple of inches longer on top, just enough to touch his bright
eyes. The new cut emphasized his chiseled jaw, wide shoulders, and overall
tall, strong frame.
Since my
father had taken him in when he was ten years old, and I had been seven, I had
hated him with every fiber of my being, but I could never, ever deny that he
was too handsome for his own good.
And,
from the lopsided grin he always offered to me, I was sure he knew that.
He
didn’t carry that lopsided grin now. In fact, his full lips were set into a
thin line. A knot formed between his thick eyebrows, and his always-amused
hazel eyes now stared at me as if he had committed a crime and was here to
confess.
Landon
took two steps up the stairs. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I considered being civil and polite by asking
him how he was and how things were going, but I didn’t have that kind of
patience. Not with him, not with my father. I walked to the edge of the stairs.
“So, why are you here? Is my father in town, and he wants to have dinner with me?
Oh, wait, dinner is too long for him. A coffee from some sidewalk vendor while
you two go over clues of your latest investigation?”
Landon
flinched but didn’t break the stare. “I’m here because I need to tell you
something.” I hated how even his voice was, rough and deep. It went too well
with his entire package. Shame he was my father’s adopted son, and I hated him
for that.
“Then
tell me.”
Landon
ran a hand through his hair, pushing the strands back, but a moment later, they
were in his eyes again. He climbed the rest of the stairs and towered over me.
“You better sit down.” He jerked his chin to a wooden bench a few feet to the
side.
I
crossed my arms. “I’m fine like this.”
He
groaned and caught my elbow. “Then at least, let’s get out of the way.” He pulled
me to the side, so we weren’t standing right in the middle of the building’s
entrance while students and professors walked past. He fixed those eyes on
mine. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit down?”
“Landon …” I sighed.
“You’ve
been warned,” he said, his voice hard. “Isaac was working a case this past
month and …”
He
paused, making my patience spike. “Spit it out.”
He let
out a long breath. “Your father was killed.”
My heart
seized. I took a large step back and fell on the bench. It couldn’t be. My
father was one of the best, if not the best out there. He had been in
the business since he was born. He knew all there was to know.
“W-what?
How?”
Landon
shook his head. “The details don’t matter.”
I glared
at him. “It matters to me.”
He held
my deadly stare. “We were played. We didn’t know what it was. I still don’t. I
just know it was playing with us.”
“It,” I
whispered. “So, he was killed by a …” I sucked in a deep breath.
Landon nodded. “Yeah.
Your father was killed by a demon.”
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