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He didn't sound proud. If anything, I thought he was traumatized. "You did," I agreed, offering a hand to help him up. He took it, and it seemed like he didn't hold my lack of intervention against me. I wasn't sure why that mattered to me, but it did. "You did a great job."
His face brightened as he got to his feet—at least until Arrow came up behind us, and a familiar anger came into his gaze. So hecouldlook like a monster rather than a puppy, even in this form. That was a relief.
"Congratulations, mutt," Arrow said, giving Eddie a grin that was only slightly less unsettling than his usual. "You're not a virgin anymore."
Eddie blinked at him in confusion.
"Your first kill," I said flatly.
"Oh," he said, his expression shifting to one of understanding. "So… does that mean I'm a hunter now?"
Arrow just smirked, waiting for me to answer. He was selective about throwing around the weight of his ranking.
"It means you're an initiate," I answered. "But there might be hope of turning you into a hunter yet."
I was still every bit as opposed to it as I had been before, but for all the wrong reasons.
ChapterSixteen
EDDIE
Ihad been hunting with Castor and Arrow for the last week and a half, and so far, I hadn't made any other kills. I wasn't sure if Castor had reined Arrow in or if Arrow really just had been hazing me for my initiation, but they had both made it clear that my role after that first hunt was support, and nothing else.
That suited me well enough. I was still having dreams about lopping the vampire’s head off and watching it roll across the alleyway. The sticky, wet sound that severed head made when it struck the concrete stuck in my memory like a burr.
For the most part, I just watched the other hunters and mentally took notes. As different as their fighting styles were, each man was absurdly skilled in his own right. Every time Castor made a kill, it was smooth and clean. Everything, from the way he drew his blade to the kills that were more up close and personal, was precision turned into an art form. His slightest movement was perfectly timed and calculated, nothing superfluous.
Arrow, on the other hand, was like chaos personified. At first, I thought his kills were so messy because he wasn't as skilled as Castor, but on more than one occasion, I had watched him effortlessly dispatch enemies that had eluded Castor. After that, I had come to realize he simply enjoyed being bathed in the blood of his enemies. He didn't even seem to have any particularly personal grudges against the beasts, either. The fiery spite that lit his eyes whenever anyone mentioned the Order was missing when it came to the hunt, even when he was knee-deep in a throng of vampires. In its place was glee bordering on madness. I found myself thinking that if he wasn’t a hunter, he would probably be a serial killer.
Although, to vampires and other shifters, I wasn't sure there was all that much of a difference.
For my part, staying out of their way and getting in a hit here and there when I had the chance proved to be more than enough of a challenge. Slowly but surely, it felt like the infusions of vampire blood were taking effect. It wasn't just that I was physically stronger, but rather, every sense was heightened. The scent of blood was stronger, more acrid. I could see clearer, and my hearing was as amplified as I remembered it being in my wolf form. Everything I touched seemed to have greater detail, as if I was capable of feeling new textures and subtle differences that once would have eluded my notice.
By far the most profound impact the infusions had was on my stamina. When I first started training with Castor, I’d usually been exhausted from close to the beginning. Now, I could actually hold my own against him without wearing myself out twenty minutes in.
I knew he was still going easy on me, and if there had been any doubt, actually watching him hunt would've erased it. Nonetheless, I no longer felt like a pathetic and hopeless project. I even had an easier time memorizing the things he taught me during training, and since I was already attending closely to everything Castor did in battle because I was afraid he would get hurt, the field was every bit as much of a classroom. Movements that would've been too swift and frenzied for me to process before seemed to be slowed down somewhat, making it possible to decipher the minutiae of battle.
When it came to Castor, at any rate. Even vampire juice wasn't enough to enable my brain to process all of Arrow’s rapid strikes and chaotic movements. It helped, though.
I still wasn't allowed to have a firearm, so as much progress as it felt like I was making, I wasn't sure Castor felt the same way. I had asked him a couple of days ago if he thought I was making progress, and his response had simply been, "You didn't get in the way as much yesterday," so that hadn't exactly boosted my confidence.
Ever since the first hunt, he had gone back to being his usual cold, reserved self. I wasn't sure if it was something I had done, or if I had simply let my expectations run away with me after we had slept together. Either way, it felt like one step forward and two steps back, but as long as he was tolerating my existence, I decided to be grateful.
I, on the other hand, had fallen harder than ever. It was undoubtedly pathetic, and I knew he would say as much if he had any idea. Assuming he didn't already. I knew better than to think he would spare my feelings or anything, but given the fact that he hadn't brought up us sleeping together at all, I wouldn't have been surprised if he himself didn't want to be reminded. That thought stung more than it probably should have.
Of course he would want to forget. He was perfect, and to say he was out of my league implied we were even playing the same sport to begin with, which clearly was not the case.
When I went to the door to meet Castor and Arrow, and only Castor was there, I felt a surge of relief I immediately tried to temper. "Father Lavigne’s not coming with us?"
"You don't need to sound so devastated," Castor said in a wry tone. "It's just us tonight."
Even though there was nothing remotely intimate intended by those words, I swooned like an idiot all the same. It didn't help that he looked especially devastating tonight, with his hair down over his eyes and a riveted black jacket I hadn't seen before.
"Is that because you think I'm ready, or because Arrow had something else to do?"
His only answer was to scoff and walk out to the parking lot.
Definitely the latter, then.
