Orion (2 page)

If it were up to me all boys, guys, men, would come with labels to acknowledge their intentions.  Hey, I’m a moron.  Hey, I’m sensitive, but like to act like a total bad boy.  Hey, I’m just in it for one thing.  Hey, I’m a kick butt Hunter who left my manners at home.

Do they not long for the same?
 
But I was wrong!  Mostly!

But then again when he walked up…

  Little prickly waves were pulsing through my skin calling out to walk closer to him.  He watched me.  I inched closer
.  Why am I moving closer, I don’t know.
  Fear wafted off him in waves. Gold.  No black.  His eyes.  They sparkled both colors, a demon within
.  A sexy demon. 

Guys didn't just walk up to me at court so
not
noticing him would be as hard as turning down chocolate.

He w
as now leaning against the doorframe that held the Hunter symbol, arms folded, grinning at me.  Dressed in gray Levis, black all-laced up boots, and a gray t-shirt, his fair-haired Greek-god status was giving off stabbing jibes at me and he knew it.  I attempted to look away, hugging my books to my chest since I forgot to bring any sort of bag, but the black molten magnets held my feet immobilized.  When I looked at him, I simply saw fear.  But not the sort of fear I knew from an enemy.   A boy from my schooling back home had the same kind of fear.  Still, I couldn’t figure it’s reasoning other than I was a girl and all males seem to exhibit the same type of related fear when I neared them.  The kind that emitted from them when I or one of the other girls at my own court would cause by simply acknowledging them.  I always like to think it’s because they had their own fears of rejection like us, but who would want to get inside a guy’s brain to find out?

Boys at court were my only familiarity to weigh on for experience in interacting with them.  Oh, I
’d interacted with many a hot male species on a one to one basis, but my father made sure that they stayed their distance.  I only ever sparred them in a weapon’s ring and nothing else.  On occasion, one would flirt and try to gain my attention, but my father somehow knew and he’d disappear from the ring and never return to fight me again.  I feared always my Valkyrie heritage was persuading them to like me, but I'd learned how to rein it in and watch them like me on their own.  I hated the ability to do it anyway, but it came in handy—on occasion.

There was
one
boy who came to live in our court who was allowed by my father to tutor, spar, and hang out.  And then he moved. 

Bringing my thoughts back to the present, the Hunter guy arched his broad chest and stood.  For a second I thought he would come towards me, but he turned and walked away.  But when he looked back, his smile was
all devil and begged to be followed.  That wasn’t going to happen unless he professed he was the enemy.

The spell was released and so was my frozen feet.  I picked them up, one at a time heading to my destination.  I was in control here.  No one else.  So why did I not feel in control at the present moment in this indecisive boy Hunter
’s presence?  Dang it!  I would never be the prey.

I finally departed the empty grounds to my next class in a half stomp hal
f march.  Weapons training.  Child’s play.

Hunters had to be ready for any creature
’s skills and capabilities.  They were the most vulnerable of the factions.  At least my court kept their faction on the know about others and how the factions evolved.  The Valkyrie court was the most honorable in my eyes.  The Were and Vampire factions were silent, but easily swayable allies in question if my father would allow them.  At the moment the factions were in turmoil and far from friends.  It wasn't always like that.  Not since the elves revolted and a male leader took over my faction.  I understood give and take.  But the vampires refused to give and the Weres were all too eager to talk so that made my father leery of both.

I walked alone across the grounds.  It was a beautiful day.  I could easily hide in the trees towering above and wait for nightfall to watch the stars.  Stopping by the side of the building, I caught the sight of someone ahead of me who seemed to have the same idea, but actually entering and vanishing in the trees.

I followed.  What else could I do?  I was here on a mission, not merely a schoolgirl.  This is what I had been born to do.  The other factions in our supernatural world may be to blame for this evil plotted farce, but the only lead I had was that the Hunters were involved.  They knew something and refused to tell.  So my father sent me in to find out.

When I reached the edge of the woods, I was immediately flanked by a dark figure.  Seeing the boots coming behind me that I recognized so easily from just minutes before, I curved with my throwing knife readily hidden behind my books and stood in a ready stance, my arms pulled tight. 

He chuckled at my nervousness as I replaced the knife. Whoever I was following  would get away now.

Dang it! 
I tucked my sleeves back over my shoulders where they’d ridden up as he watched.  He folded his arms, cocked his head sideways and said nothing.  A  grin traced his lips like he had an agenda and I first on the menu. 

I stood taller and risked a shaky voice by clearing my throat, “Don
’t walk up behind someone if your intentions are not to be a sneak.”  Haughty and harsh, but usually effective.

“Sneak!  I merely wanted to see your reaction.  I rather like them.  They call to me and whisper in my ear things a guy like
’s to hear."   He was baiting me and I didn’t want to add to the fire, but I couldn’t let him get the best of me.  He barked out a absurdly long, humored laugh to hopefully throw me off my guard. 
Nada!

“Clever words.  But not affected.”  I made myself adjust to look less interested in anything he did.  I could deal with Hunters.  And he
’s about five degrees short of on my last nerve.

“Clever comes later.”

“Mediocre.”

“No you met him earlier.  I
’m plain awesome.”  He just stared after that, too much.  His eyes raked over me.  Dark eyes.  No, not dark, but what?  Very hard to read.  But not fear this time.  I can’t read other emotions other than anger, but he seemed amused.  Mr. Hyde anyone?

“Are you done gawking?” I tried to sound bored stringing my fingers through the long blonde trail of hair pulled across my front left shoulder.

“You lost?” He waved his very large outstretched hands to the each side, not that I noticed or anything.  He tried to present himself as dark and ominous, but he was far more full of sun-kissed humor and sarcasm.  He was bright with that humor and I wanted to feel calmed by him, but uncertainty played on my mind.

“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 t
o 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.