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He got out of the car and followed me out of the garage and onto the city streets. I was glad at least that he was sounding more like his usual self. I'd missed it more than I wanted to admit.
ChapterTwenty-One
EDDIE
Sometimes I didn't know whether Castor was intentionally fucking with my head, or whether it just came naturally to him. Just when I had finally come to terms with the fact that I needed to distance myself as much as possible emotionally—because that was the only way I was going to be able to function as his partner—he had to go and shake things up by being vulnerable. Human.
I had gone months without breaking my promise to myself that I was going to keep things strictly professional between us. That I wasn't going to let myself get back on the roller coaster of emotions that was inevitable whenever I was involved with him as anything more than my teacher. I had thrown myself into the hunt, and when I wasn't doing that, I was training and making my body stronger, since my mind was weak enough for the both of us.
I had thought I was doing a pretty good job. At least, until I realized my willpower was only sufficient for as long as intimacy with him wasn't an option. It turned out that applied to the physical kind as well as others.
Logically, I knew that this was just another trap, even if I doubted Castor himself realized what he was doing. It figured he was only interested in talking to me when I was making every attempt to avoid letting things get personal again between us. I knew that, and yet, I had still salsa danced right into the damn trap with my eyes wide open.
I really was a special kind of stupid.
At least it was a Friday, which meant he would be busy with his priestly duties and giving his weekly report to Father Marius. If I let myself wonder too much about what the content of those reports happened to be, I would drive myself crazy. In the end, it wasn't like I could do anything to change it.
All I could really do was keep myself distracted, and the training gym was as good of a way as any. There was always someone looking to spar, and while there were considerably fewer people willing to spar with me, I never had too hard of a time finding a partner those days. Even that was probably just because people were looking for an in with Castor. He was something of a rock star in the Abbey, and I was far from the only one who was enamored with him. Try as I might, that hadn't changed, but keeping a distance helped take the edge off.
So far, I hadn't gone into rut again, but that was going to present another awkward obstacle when it inevitably happened. The idea of getting through it with anyone else was as distasteful as the idea of crawling back to Castor was intimidating and distressing. I still didn't know what I was going to do, but I figured I would deal with it when the time came. In the meantime, I had more than enough things to worry about.
When I went into the locker room and realized only Arrow was there, I thought of leaving. He spotted me before I had the chance.
He was more muscular than he looked in clothes, and I did a double take when I noticed the pale scars beneath his pecs on either side of his chest. The last time he had caught me staring at the scar on his arm had been enough of a lesson, so I looked away quickly and approached my locker.
"Hey, mutt," he said, his tone slightly less malicious than usual. I wasn't sure if he was starting to like me, or if the novelty of tormenting me in particular had just worn off.
Probably that.
"Hey, Father Lavigne," I said, taking off my shirt to change into a tank top.
"I hear you bagged yourself a wolf the other day," he said, sounding closer. When I looked up, he was right in front of me, his hand planted on the locker behind my head as he cornered me. The resemblance between him and Atticus was more than just physical. I doubted either of them would appreciate the comparison, though.
"Yeah?" I asked warily. "That's what hunters do, isn't it?"
He sneered. "Guess I was wrong about you being too much of a pussy to take out your own kind."
I sighed. "I have as much reason to hate werewolves as anyone."
He just snorted, stepping back. Not reacting to his generally menacing behavior was definitely the way to go, it seemed. It made it boring for him.
"Looking for a sparring partner?" he asked knowingly.
I hesitated. "Aren’t you leaving?"
"I always have time to help out a new recruit," he said in a tone of mocking benevolence.
"Right," I mumbled. "If you've got the time, sure."
Not that training with him would be the worst thing, especially now that I could at least kind of hold my own. Besides, there was something I had been trying to work up the courage to ask him, and now seemed like as good of a time as any.
He went back to his locker, pulled on a shirt, and nodded for me to follow him out into the gym.
There were only a couple of new recruits across the room. They were running through drills, and I couldn't help but mentally critique them. Sometimes it felt like I hadn't made any progress, but maybe that was just because I was comparing myself to hunters who had years of experience on me. Most of them were bloodline hunters, too, and despite the fact that Castor was as fierce and bloodthirsty as anyone, he was a rare exception.
"Let's see what you've been working on," Arrow said, standing at the edge of the mat.
"Barehanded?"
