Chapter 19 #2
I think of how my dad lived in this house.
How he partied and studied and slept under this historic roof.
Befriended Edgar Driscoll, another Marksmen alum.
All the dominoes set in motion on this campus—in this building—that lead to the sorry state I’m in now.
It only serves to make me feel more worthless and alone. A tidal wave of aeon gloom.
Aside from the glow of pink twinkle lights, it’s too dim in here for anyone who doesn’t have hunter vision to see. I say a small prayer for Penny’s shins against low coffee tables. When I finally reach the kitchen, where fluorescent lights glow hot and bright, my head starts to ache.
“Can someone turn those down?” I ask nobody in particular. I’m a bitter old woman yelling at rabbits in my garden. Excellent party guest.
A broad-shouldered guy wearing a chalky necklace of candy hearts turns from his game of beer pong to look at me.
I recognize him as one of Elliot’s teammates.
Vaguely handsome, good teeth. He’s standing at the head of six back-to-back foldout tables that spread from the kitchen into the living room.
I suppose twenty-four feet might just be enough to make beer pong challenging for hunters, but it still looks like most of these guys could sink all ten balls with their eyes closed. I guess that’s what the booze is for.
“What’d you say, black widow?” he asks over the pulsing music.
“I need alcohol.” All the bottles cluttering the countertops are empty, and I will not be partaking in whatever the flamingo-pink mystery punch is.
“Over there,” he shouts, and directs me toward a back patio stacked with coolers. “Then come back and find me?”
“For sure,” I deadpan.
It takes twice as long to traverse the length of the living room than it should on account of all the squealing and dancing and making out.
For some reason, all of it bothers me. Maybe it’s what Sophia said.
That we should be enjoying our time here.
I don’t want to be burdened by the weight of the world on my shoulders or the deadly spell down my back.
I’d just been beginning to find a place here at Harker before everything went to shit last semester.
To feel like I belonged. And now I’m a surly, jealous brat.
Everyone around me is finding love, and I’m missing someone who might want nothing to do with me.
I feel shrouded in a fog of numb dissatisfaction. Lonely, restless, defeated. I’m like the grim reaper stalking through this carnival of festive, boozy bullshit. I should just go home.
Home.
As I step out into the frigid cold and pull a handle of vodka from one of the coolers, it’s that word that sends me chugging.
Home had been that shabby little walk-up in Lethe, back when my dad was still alive and my mom could look at me.
When Nora was my best friend and hunting was a superpower.
Then, home became Pen’s and my cluttered place in Babylon.
The two of us and Hound, sharing a frozen pizza and a rom-com.
Spending all night at Cobwebs, flipping through the broken jukebox, looking for bad one-hit wonders.
And then, when I’d thought it impossible, I’d found a home again here, at Harker.
Not just in my gauzy, light-filled dorm with Soph, but with Reid. He’d become my home.
And each home has somehow been ripped away from me.
Muted bassline aching in my skull, I stare out at snow-encrusted picnic tables and dry winter grass. The one thing all these places have in common is me. My father, killed. My fault that Penny and Hound are stuck here at Harker and not back in Babylon. My aeon body that Reid sacrificed himself for.
“As your instructor,” a voice sounds behind me, “I’d caution against drinking alone, outside, at night, in February.”
When I crane my neck, I find Landon, pushing out the swinging back door and strolling over. He takes a seat on the step next to me and motions for the bottle. “But as a fellow hunter who knows what it’s like to meet with the Elders”—he shakes his head—“I can’t say I don’t get it.”
“Why are you at a student party?” The words come out a little hostile. I have drunk a lot.
But Landon has an ease about him. Even as he winces from his pull on the bottle, there’s a smile to his eyes. A friendly glow on his bronzed skin. “A girl I’m seeing invited me.”
Only now do I notice Sophia’s red lipstick smudged on his neck and earlobe. “As a Citadel hunter you must know there are rules against dating a student,” I say in my best Elder voice.
“We’re discreet. At least I’m a hell of a lot younger than the last guy who did this job.” Landon’s eyes find mine, a spark of something there.
I almost ask how he knows about Reid and me, but then I remember all he heard when he was eavesdropping. Plus, the guy’s got a point: He’s probably in his thirties and Reid was alive before the Renaissance. “How long have you been working for them?”
“At the Citadel? Since I graduated. Recruited right out of my fourth year.”
“Because you’re so handy with a crossbow?”
“You know it.” Landon takes another sip of the vodka. “They’re not so bad, Viv. If they aren’t going after the High Thane right this moment, it’s for a good reason.”
I open my mouth to ask about the little black box filled with Deacon’s blood but think better of it. For all I know, Landon had no idea what was inside. And how am I supposed to explain I could sense who the blood belonged to?
Landon’s breath fogs the cold air when he speaks again. “You know what I do when I’m sad?”
I study his clean gray sweater. His perfectly combed GQ cover hair. “Organize your swords? Polish the coliseum stands?” I reach for the bottle in his hand. “Drink more?”
But Landon maneuvers the vodka away from me. “It’s embarrassing. You can’t judge me, okay?”
My brows crease. I want to tell him I probably will judge him because I’m a judgy bitch and I’m in a bad mood and I came all the way to this party to drink alone, thank you very much. Why is he trying to bond with me?
But then I think of Sophia. And how if Landon genuinely likes her, this is his attempt to get in the good graces of her scary guard-dog best friend.
And after tonight…the look of dismay on Sophia’s face when Penny had told her she was decent.
If this guy makes her happy, I’m certainly not going to stand in their way. “No judgment here.”
Landon looks out past the snow-dusted backyard and toward Mortimer Tower, looming over Old Campus.
“I catch the sunrise from the watchtower. That little turret to the left of where the archives are. Used to go there after I failed a test or got my ass handed to me in Combat Training. Still go there now as an instructor.” His eyes soften at some memory.
“Highest peak at Harker. Doesn’t get more peaceful than that. ”
“I hate to burst your nostalgia bubble, but the planetarium is the tallest point on campus.” If only Peter could see me now.
But Landon shakes his head. “Common misconception. Watchtower’s not on any of the maps. Back before the Windsor was built, Harker was hidden inside a lymantrian monastery in the same spot.”
An image of Deacon and King Arthur playing backgammon with pretty young nuns flashes in my mind.
“It was a lot easier for enemies to get to back then. Gateway magic wasn’t being used to hide the school yet.
No Citadel hunters.” He gestures proudly to himself.
“Watchtower was manned 24/7 for safety. Now we have security cameras, better manpower, and the Windsor to keep the campus safe. No more need for the watchtower. It’s just a storage room now… ”
But I’m not listening anymore. My heart is speeding. My blood cold as ice as it sluices through my veins. Not on any of the maps. There’s a place on this campus we didn’t look. Somewhere even Peter didn’t know about.
“I have to go,” I tell Landon, without even a half-baked shitty excuse.
But when I stand, the bare trees and unused grill on the back porch swerve and curl. “Shit,” I curse, digging my toes into my boots to ground myself.
It’s not just the vodka.
He was here. On campus. In the watchtower.
My insecurities crawl through my veins like beetles.
“What about her?” plays in my head on repeat.
He has made no effort to find his way back to you.
He doesn’t want you anymore.
An ache spreads through my back. Maybe you are nothing to him. Nothing to anyone but a killer. Go and do what you do best. Bloodthirsty. Rageful. Hungry once more. It’s been so long since I’ve slayed anything.
Landon’s voice is far away as he asks if I’m okay. But I’m already racing back through the party and out the front door. I’ll be fine, I tell myself. I’ll be more than fine when I find Reid.