Page 15

Relationships were so damn complicated.

I liked it better when I was trying to figure out whether or not to start with a blade or stake first. I liked it better when my head wasn’t wrapped around itself trying to figure out what another person was going through when they didn’t bother to answer me back. Or why a person who kept their hands to themselves and barely touched me out of respect would then go radio silent the minute things got hard.

It didn’t make any damn sense. Was everything we shared over the last few months worth so little to him?

WasIworth so little?

“V?” a deep, gravelly voice called out.

Having heard the whisper of his voice in my head more times than I cared to admit, I looked up quickly. “Sir?”

“Can you stay after class and help me collect materials from the experiment?” Phillip asked nonchalantly, giving many of the girls reason to bemoan his clear favoritism of me.

Peering around at the jealous eyes of girls and boys near and far, I finally nodded. “Sure thing, Mr. Smith.”

When the bell rang, almost everyone left. But Daxon hung back and watched me from where he sat at the other side of the classroom.

Looking up from my task, I caught his green-eyed gaze from across the desks and stopped. Something about the way he looked at me tickled my Hunter instincts. And for the first time, I credited the man at the front of the room for his intuition about the gym-addicted beach boy.

“Daxon?” Phillip called out.

The six-foot jock smiled at me before answering. “I thought it was a pretty big task for a little thing like V, so I stayed back to help.”

Great. He thinks I’m just a little woman in need of his manly muscles.

“That’s nice of you, dude,” I said, masking my disgust with an ultra-sweet tone. “These microscopes are much too heavy for my tiny girl arms.”

Phillip’s chuckle echoed in my ears, and I turned just in time to see his tattooed hand go over his mouth to conceal his amusement. “That’s nice of you, but I’ll help her. You can head on home.”

Daxon stiffened for some odd reason when Phillip took a purposeful step his direction. The Austrian rubbed the colorful tattoos along his neck with a large hand covered in thick metal rings, his long fingers smoothing over crosses covered in bright red blood, thick flames doused with vibrant reds and oranges, and a demon’s horns.

A depiction of Hell, I imagine.

But what caught my eye were the assortment of silver rings fitted around each finger to act like a deconstructed brass knuckle when the Austrian wanted to throw a punch.

Silver.

Silver burned vampires enough to cause significant pain. Ironically, despite it being the thing that theoretically struck down werewolves, it didn’t actually bother them.

Werewolves were instead weak to gold. Poor things.

Precious metals seemed to spell trouble for most creatures of the night.

But the way he outfitted himself, at least as far as I’d been privy to, was in preparation for a fight at all times. For day walkers, for unknown enemies at any hour, and the studious vampire hunter in me was impressed.

I’d never say so, but everything about Phillip spoke of a perfect, high-level Hunter. It was something I strived to be, and I wanted to learn from him even when the dude drove me crazy the minute his mouth opened.

I watched Phillip, engrossed by the way his hand moved along his neck with purpose.

Yeah, that was a power move if I ever saw one.

“Y-you got it, Mr. S. I’ll check you later, V.”

Daxon couldn’t have left the room fast enough, bumping into several desks and the door frame on his way out. I wasn’t even sure what happened by the time Phillip called out to me and easily took the two microscopes I collected into one hand.

“I think our intuition about him is right. We’ll have to stake out his place tonight to confirm it, though. I have a feeling he’s going to make a call.”

“Pun intended?” I asked, smirking.