Page 12 of Freak Camp (A Monster By Any Other Name #1)

Chapter Three

T wo weeks before Christmas , Leon and Jake turned the Eldorado again toward Freak Camp. Jake couldn’t tell if Dad was on to a bigger clue than before or if something about Freak Camp kept drawing them back, but either way, getting to see Tobias again was fine with him.

As Dad signed in, Jake caught sight of an argument between his distant cousins (like Dad and Jake, Mom had been an only child).

Tina Dixon, who was about fifteen, threw up her hands in frustration, and Matthew Dixon glanced over with a tight, angry, but satisfied smile.

He met Jake’s eyes. After the first startled second, Matthew stopped looking surprised and held his gaze.

Jake wondered if this was how it felt to be caught by the eyes of a basilisk.

Matthew was a couple of years older than Tina and already a hunter and a sometimes-guard at Freak Camp. Jake was pretty sure that Matthew was on the fast track to be a regional hunt leader someday.

If Jake had been raised differently, if he hadn’t already wanted to be Dad, Matthew might have been everything that he wanted to be.

But Jake knew that Dad was a thousand times better than any Dixon anywhere (except Mom, and she didn’t really count as a Dixon), and they could all screw each other for all he cared.

Jake looked away first, and Matthew moved to join Dad as he opened the security door into the yard, offering to join him in Special Research while Dad scowled at him. Tina approached Jake, her friendly smile obviously fake. “Hey, Jake.”

Jake eyed her warily. He wondered where Matthew was really taking Dad. They wouldn’t try to grab him again, would they? Last time . . . well, Jake had been a lot younger, and he hadn’t really known what was going on, and he hadn’t fought back nearly enough.

But there were other hunters around that time, he thought. You wouldn’t have gotten away if not for them, and they’re not here now .

A few years ago, the Dixons had tried to take him away from Dad at the Crossroads Inn.

Jake had been just a little kid, but he had known that these strangers, the cold-eyed hunters that claimed to be family, were just trying to steal him away from Dad.

Jake had reacted instinctively by pulling out his knife, assuming that they were some kind of monster trying to separate him from Dad to make them easier prey.

Hawthornes were always stronger together.

That was the first time he’d met Roger, who had stepped in before Jake could do more than take a swipe at the Dixons. That night Jake had realized what Dad meant when he told Jake to be careful and not trust anyone. Especially Dixons.

He gave her a curt nod. “Tina.”

She held the smile for another second—it looked uncomfortable—and then dropped it. “Elijah wants to see you.”

Jake stared at her, and she scowled. “You know who Elijah is, don’t you?” Her tone said that she had always suspected that he was an idiot, but it was still irritating to deal with.

“Elijah Dixon,” he snapped back. “He’s the Director of Freak Camp and the ASC.” He didn’t think he had to mention some of the other things Dad said about Elijah Dixon. Scary son of a bitch and bootlicking government asshole were some of the milder descriptions.

“Yeah.” Tina drawled out the word. “You could say that. You could also say he’s your grandfather.”

Jake froze. He knew that. It was a fact. But he had never let himself think of the Director of the ASC as . . . family. Not even in the same thought as Mom. Elijah had always been his and Dad’s enemy—especially since he and the other Dixons had tried to take him away.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Tina’s tone indicated that she didn’t really give a shit about Jake being family, but talking to him was a duty she would fulfill.

He wondered what Matthew had said to get her to start the conversation.

“Anyway, he wants you. So are you gonna come, or are you gonna be a pissy bastard like your dad?”

“Keep your mouth off my dad.” Jake wasn’t used to his voice coming out like that, a hard and sharp growl.

He hadn’t often felt this smooth, easy, adrenaline-producing rage either, but he thought that maybe he could get used to it.

The room felt brighter, and he felt sharper with that anger humming under his skin.

Tina looked interested. “Or you’ll what?”

“I’ll gut you,” Jake said. He didn’t even sound angry. This was how Dad sounded when he talked about the monsters that had killed Mom. When he told some jerk he’d just met that he could stuff it, that Hawthornes needed nothing from nobody.

Tina blinked, as though that wasn’t the response she had expected. Looking a little impressed, she nodded thoughtfully. “You might even have it in you. Maybe there’s more of Auntie Sally in you than I thought.”

She could think whatever she liked. She hadn’t actually known Jake’s mom. That was just the usual Dixon bluff and arrogance.

“So,” she said, putting a hand on her hip. “You gonna see him? He really does want to see you. And he’s not . . . well, he’s old, you know?” She shrugged. In that moment, she almost looked like a normal teenage girl, not a Dixon.

“My dad will know if you grab me. He’ll burn this place down around your ears.” Dad would too. Dad would do anything to get Jake back.

Tina rolled her eyes. “We’re not gonna nab you. I don’t know why we’d want you. Elijah just wants to talk. At least, that’s what Matthew told me.” Jake could hear the irritation in her voice: And he could have told you himself, if it really mattered.

“Why’d he make you do it?” he asked.

Tina scowled. “My feminine charm.”

Jake snorted, and Tina’s mouth quirked. Their eyes met, and for that moment, Jake felt like they might be on the same side.

They both understood how stupid that idea was.

Tina Dixon, like all Dixons and Hawthornes, fought and killed freaks and witches and monsters, and while charm was useful, charm wasn’t everything.

When charm failed, as it so often did, you fell back to silver blades, shotguns, and gasoline.

That felt disturbingly like family .

“Yeah, I’ll come,” Jake said.

Tina nodded. “Good. That’ll get Matthew off my back. And, you know, make Elijah happy.”

Jake didn’t know if he wanted to do anything to make Elijah Dixon happy, but when Tina turned to lead him into Administration, Jake followed.

***

T ina led him into a sterile stairwell where their footsteps echoed, up to the second floor of Administration.

She used her hip to bang open the door into the hallway, and he followed her down the carpeted hall, past dark brown doors without names or markings, to a large pair of doors set at the end.

She rapped on it twice and didn’t wait for an answer before twisting the doorknob and leaning inside.

“I found him!” she announced, and Jake glanced back toward the stairs. He had one last chance to make a run for it. “It’s the real Jake Hawthorne, or so he says,” Tina said, and pushed open the door wide.

Jake Hawthorne did not run unless he knew damn well he ought to, and that wasn’t the first impression he wanted to make with Elijah Dixon.

He stepped into the large office with a worn wooden desk that looked more like a tool bench set in the back. It looked a little funny in the glossy, imposing office.

Elijah Dixon sat behind the desk. To Jake’s surprise, he looked old and kinda shrunken. He’d seen Elijah’s picture in books and newspapers over the years, and he always looked as tough and untouchable as Dad.

But Elijah stood with a quickness that suggested he wasn’t too slow to be caught off guard yet. Jake tensed, but Elijah didn’t move from behind the desk. He smiled and waved at the high-backed chair before the desk. “Jake, come in. Please.”

Jake slowly walked forward as Tina closed the door, leaving them both alone. Elijah nodded at a soda can at the end of the desk. “Care to have a can of pop with an old man?”

Jake moved to the desk and inspected the lid of the soda can. It didn’t look like it’d been tampered with, but you never could tell.

Elijah gave a harsh laugh that ended in a cough, and he offered his own can toward Jake. “Wanna trade?”

Feeling defensive and a little silly, Jake picked up his can and popped it open, sitting down. “No thanks.”

Elijah smiled and sat back, opening his own can. “Jake. It’s . . . good to see you again.”

Jake eyed him. When had they last seen each other? It might’ve been around the time Mom died, but he didn’t remember. Still, he knew enough manners to use them when it counted. “Good to meet you too, sir.”

Elijah’s smile became more like a grimace, but he said with approval, “I hear you’re already a hunter. And looking to be a damn fine one.”

Jake straightened, his chest puffing out even as he tried not to give away how cool it was that Elijah Dixon already knew about him as a hunter. “Only some salt-and-burns. I do my best.”

“And you’re still here, so your best must be good enough. Ghosts have gotten the better of lots of hunters.”

Jake snorted. “A crack in the sidewalk can get a hunter who lets his guard down.”

Elijah’s mouth quirked. “Your mom used to say the same thing. Never had to tell her twice to do her research before going into the field.”

“You knew my mom?” Jake blurted out, and then immediately realized he was an idiot. “I mean, duh.”

Elijah had drawn back, the grimace back on his face, but he smoothed it away.

“Yeah, you could say I knew her pretty darn well for the first twenty years of her life. Or nearly twenty. She tore off with your dad not long after she turned eighteen.” An awkward silence fell, and Elijah cleared his throat.

“One thing I do know about her: she loved your dad a hell of a lot. I shouldn’t have argued with her about that. ”