Chapter 12 #2
“If you can learn to hit a vampire’s heart on every strike, even under pressure, you’ll be a very successful hunter and live a long life.
” She pointed to one of the mannequins. “Aim for the left side of the chest, about two to three inches left of the sternum between the fourth and fifth ribs. Roughly below the left nipple.”
Each hunter brought a mannequin over in front of a student, and we faced it, stake in hand. The field filled with the shuffling of boots and nervous breaths.
“Let’s begin!” Celia said.
This was my greatest weakness. Knowing where the heart was and hitting it each time.
I fisted my stake, and the hunter paired with me held the mannequin steady and gave me some pointers.
I stabbed it right on the X and grinned when my metal stake dented the wood.
We did this for about fifteen minutes, the rhythm almost calming, until Celia blew a whistle.
“Now if only every vampire was shirtless to give you an accurate view of where to puncture,” she said.
The hunters broke away and went back to the crates, returning with clothes for the mannequins.
Ugh. Just when I was feeling confident.
Mine got covered in a billowing floral top and thick coat, the fabric bunching awkwardly.
“Let’s try it now!” Celia called out.
I fisted my stake and drove it down into where I thought the heart was. My assigned hunter helper, Alex, chuckled playfully as he lifted up the billowing top.
Dang! I was, like, four inches off.
“The trick is to line it up with their nose or throat.” He dragged a finger down his nose to his throat and the little sunken part there and then to the chest. When he was in the center of the chest, he moved two to three inches to the left. “There.”
I sighed. This was harder than I thought.
“Try again,” he encouraged, covering up the X mark with the shirt again.
I stepped back, fisting my dagger, and then looked up at the mannequin’s face, drawing a line with my eye from the nose downward and then over three inches. Lunging forward, I slammed the stake into its chest, and it sank halfway to the hilt. The impact jarred my wrist.
The hunter beside me grinned. “Good job, Sinclair. That’s a bull’s-eye.”
“Really? How do you know?” I asked. The jacket and shirt were still in the way.
“I’ve been doing this a long time.” He winked, pulling up the mannequin’s shirt to show me.
He was right. It was a bull’s-eye.
Pride swelled in my chest, warm and surprising.
Maybe I could do this. Maybe I could get my hunter marks and become an actual hunter on the streets of New York City like Celia.
Fight crime in Manhattan by night and then come home to a nice family here in Veil Haven every morning.
It sounded like a dream, and I’d never wanted anything more.
“Okay, it’s getting too easy. Time to shake it up!” Celia declared after a few moments, and everyone groaned. I glanced over at Asher to see him watching me, but he looked away when our eyes met.
Alex dragged my mannequin back to the box, as did the other hunter helpers.
Only one mannequin remained on the practice field: a slender woman who was missing an eyeball and wearing a baggy men’s suit, the fabric flapping slightly in the breeze.
A few minutes later, they’d hooked the single mannequin up to a rig that allowed it to be pulled on a pulley system so it moved left and right in quick jerks.
“Now let’s see how your aim is when your subject is moving,” Celia told everyone.
We formed a single-file line to wait our turn as our assigned hunter helpers stood next to us, whispering words of encouragement or techniques.
Asher slipped in line behind me as Alex leaned in close.
“So I have a trick I do when I’m not sure I know where the heart is.
I call it the triple jab,” he said, pulling out his stake.
“One, two, three in rapid succession a few inches apart in the area you think the heart is, and you won’t miss. You can’t be that off.”
“Oh, I can,” I assured him.
He grinned. “You’re a Sinclair. You’ll do great.” He winked and stepped away.
“Gag,” Asher whispered behind me.
I turned to him, confused. “What?”
He rolled his eyes. “Nothing.”
“No, tell me?” I asked.
“The way he’s flirting with you so obviously. It’s gross,” Asher offered.
Gross?
“Flirting? He’s being nice,” I countered.
Asher chuckled. “Okay, Stella.”
Okay, Stella? What did he care who flirted with me anyway? He was taken. I turned back to the front, confused by Asher’s behavior.
It was Tina’s turn. She attacked the moving mannequin with a sloppy formation and stabbed it in the armpit. Everyone laughed.
“Not funny. If that was in the field, she would have pissed it off, and she’d be dead or turned. Help her be better. Go again, Tina,” Celia said.
“I’m sorry,” Asher’s voice whispered in my ear, his hot breath brushing my neck and sending a shiver down my spine.
I jumped a little, not expecting him. I turned and faced him, and his green eyes were blazing.
“I don’t like that guy, okay? He called me ‘orphan Asher’ growing up.
He’s a tool. Don’t date him. I’m just warning you. You deserve better.”
Don’t date him. I barely knew the guy!
Orphan Asher? That was rude as hell.
“I’m not dating anyone.” I laughed. “It’s my first week here. I have hunter marks to get. Dating can wait.”
Asher swallowed hard. “We don’t get new people here, Stella. We’ve all grown up together. You’re…fresh meat. Every guy is going to make a play for you. Fair warning.” His eyes bored into me then.
Make a play. Was this football terminology now?
“Fresh meat? Never say that to me again,” I warned.
He grinned. “My bad.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to clear my calendar for all the dates that are going to start rolling in,” I said.
“Guess you will,” he replied.
I rolled my eyes. “Won’t happen.”
“You’re almost up.” He ignored me.
I spun around, closed the distance in the line, and tried to push Asher’s words out of my mind. Was he warning me as a friend? Or was it something else? Did I want it to be something else? Like jealousy?
No, not if he had a girlfriend. I was no cheater.
“Stella.” Celia called out and nodded in my direction.
I fisted my stake in my right hand and took a steadying breath, my pulse loud in my ears.
Everyone was trying to just walk up to the moving mannequin and attack it, but it was dangling from a rope so it was awkward, swinging unpredictably.
I had a different plan, and I hoped the rope was strong enough to hold.
The mannequin whizzed by me, and I took off running beside it.
When I was in line with it, I jumped, colliding in midair with the wooden body.
The rope sagged, and we lowered about two feet, skimming the ground.
I wrapped my legs around its waist and my left hand around the back of the mannequin’s neck, the wood creaking under the impact.
With her pinned, I used my right hand to triple stab right where the heart would be.
The strikes landed fast, thud thud thud , my arm jolting with each hit.
The mannequin rolled to a stop at the end of the line, and I jumped off, boots hitting the grass.
“That was hot,” Alex said, and a few guys chuckled.
Celia pulled up the mannequin’s shirt and gave me a smirk. “Good job, Stella. You have great instincts.”
Pride swelled within me, and I nodded.
Asher was next. He ran faster than the mannequin could be pulled and leapt in front of it, causing it to collide with his dagger. It went straight into the heart. Clean. Efficient.
Everyone clapped.
“All right, you guys are shaping up to be some pretty good trainees. I have no doubt by the end of the month, you will all have your hunter marks!” Celia told us before dismissing us and telling us to practice our stabbing.
The crowd dispersed in clusters, and I walked over to my backpack and water bottle, my arm already sore.
Alex stepped up beside me. “Hey, Stella, that was pretty incredible. Great job.”
“Thanks for all your help.” I said and smiled, hooking my bag over my shoulder. “See ya.”
I moved to leave, and he stepped in front of me, blocking my path. I noticed Asher a ways behind him, lingering like he was pretending not to listen.
“Wait, I was wondering since you’re new and all, would you like to grab coffee sometime? Like…a date?” Alex looked hopeful.
My stomach sank. Asher was right. Alex was flirting before. Which was totally fine, but he wasn’t my type. There was zero vibe there, and now I did feel like fresh meat or whatever Asher had said.
“Oh, that’s so sweet. I’m really focused on school right now though.”
His shoulders slumped, and he scowled. “Oh, come on. You gonna miss out on all this?” He gestured to his upper body.
Gross.
“ And I would never date a guy who called someone ‘orphan Asher.’ It’s cruel,” I added for good measure because I believed Asher.
Alex’s eyes widened, and he shot Asher a glare over his shoulder.
Asher grinned. He was totally listening.
“See ya,” I told Alex and walked off in the direction of my dorm, the straps of my bag bouncing against my shoulder.
Was the “orphan Asher” comment too far? Maybe. People could change from grade school, but the bullies usually didn’t. They just got older.
I felt someone behind me and instinctively spun around to find Asher there, wearing a sly grin. “My inner seventh grader was just healed,” he said.
I laughed. “Have you been waiting for someone to tell that guy off?”
He nodded, and we started walking together across the path. “Pretty much. Though Daphne did pour chocolate milk down his back when she heard.”
Now I was grinning. “I like her.”
He just nodded. “She’s a loyal friend.”
That word again. Friend. Best friend. Loyal friend. She was also his girlfriend.
“And a great girlfriend too, I’m sure,” I said, emphasizing the words.