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“Something like that,” I whispered before Phillip strode into the kitchen, looking all bad and delicious and not the least bit bothered by our fight. But of course he wouldn’t be. I was the only one drowning in the shame and guilt from all the things I said.

What a bastard.

“Brought the materials we discussed?” Phillip asked of Sloan, and the other Hunter nodded at the table.

A stack of books, weathered by time, were organized into a neat pile, and I stared at them in outright confusion. When had he put those there? I hadn’t even seen the dude carry them inside. Or put them down on the table, for that matter.

Mystified but also pretty impressed, I walked over to the table and opened the cover of the top book. Lines of text I didn’t understand scrolled across the page, tiny and compressed to an obnoxious level. It was the very image of one of my high school text books, and it dragged out the inner-teen groan in me.

This is going to be a bitch to read.

Any Hunter, barely trained or not, would know it was obviously written in code. But luckily there were pictures scattered throughout the pages. Diagrams and depictions to give some insight to what it detailed.

Other supernatural creatures.

Just upon a gander, there were several creatures I didn’t immediately recognize. I couldn’t even ascertain whether they were friend or foe. All of them looked some level of dangerous, and I stared openly at a few drawings before asking, “Code?”

Sloan came to stand beside me, leaning over enough to give my heart a start. “There’s a trick to it. I’ll teach you. Once you figure it out, it’ll be easy enough to read.”

“Lucky me,” I sassed with a sideways grin.

Sloan’s lips twitched upwards, clearly amused, and Phillip abruptly cleared his throat. The two of us separated as the other Hunter stole the book and nodded to the fridge.

“Get something to eat, V. We’ll start in a half hour,” Phillip commanded bluntly, luminous eyes on Sloan. “It’s been a bit since your last blood bag, and you’ll need all the power you can get today.”

Grumbling, I walked over to the fridge and retrieved three blood bags for each one of us. I tossed the first to Sloan, then flicked my eyes over to where the Austrian sat, preparing my heart.

When Phillip’s intense blue eyes came into view, my heart lost a beat and I stopped breathing altogether. His face didn’t give any emotion away. The Austrian was as expressionless as ever. Honestly, he looked totally fine, and it was a slap to the face to be the only one affected by our argument. The older Hunter’s words repeated in my head, lodging something in my throat, and I had to tear my gaze away from him to keep from crying.

Crying?

The telltale burn in my eyes suggested I was very close to doing that very thing, and it was more of a shock to me than anything else. Me, the strong huntress and granddaughter to the fiercest Hunter who ever lived.

It was laughable.

Phillip made it clear from the beginning we were casual, and him possibly falling for me didn’t change anything. Me falling for him didn’t mean we needed to be in a relationship. Honestly, he was doing me a favor by pushing me away.

Yeah. It was better this way.

I turned to Sloan, ignoring the Austrian entirely. “Teach me that nifty trick of yours, Master Sloan.”

His expression bled away to confusion, then exhilaration. “Master? I quite like that.”

*

“AGAIN,” SLOAN DEMANDED. He was knelt where I presently crouched, my hands on my knees and all of my confidence absolutely shot.

Holy Christ. Sloan was ruthless.

“Give me a minute,” I complained, finally getting to my feet with a long exhale.

Sloan swung his leg out, intending to catch me before I straightened out all the way, and I somersaulted out of range. Our blades clashed in a spray of sparks, sending us both back in the ricochet. I flipped backwards and avoided another one of the British charmer’s swings with a long stick he sported just for our training session. It lunged out, and I kicked it away before it reached my stomach.

Sloan didn’t look it, but the dude was absolutely brutal with a fucking stick.

Yes. A stick. As in, something I could easily find in the forest on a hike. It wasn’t thoughtfully engineered or cleverly weaponized with advanced technology to withstand an attack from someone like me. It was a branch he’d probably found on the ground somewhere before coming over. Sloan used it in ways I hadn’t even thought of. Vaulting across spaces like some kind of martial arts villain. The real trick was the branch had stayed in one piece, and I didn’t know how. The strength I employed would break stone. So, what kind of monster was Sloan to use some branch like it was a steel pole?

Even with being a genetically superior Hunter, I barely avoided Sloan’s attacks. He was always right on top of me, one step ahead, forever on the offense and I, endlessly on the defense. His movements were seamless—a dance I barely matched on my best day. But I admired how smart the gorgeous Hunter fought, and I wanted nothing more than to learn everything he could teach.