The Killing Season (3 page)

“Or Bloody Eve will cut ya!” Sin said, winking at me.

“Don’t touch my shit or come in my room and you’ll keep your hide fine,” Eve said, “but I suggest not looking at Haze’s mouth. He hates that.”

I jerked my eyes away from his scars, where I had indeed been staring. Even with my limited ability to imagine his pain—although I was getting better thanks to the ’swang who bit me in the university’s ward—I knew the attack must have been excruciating. The bones in his jaw had likely been crushed and mangled beyond repair. Shit, I was staring again.

“One big dysfunctional family,” Hatter said, slinging his arm around Sunny’s shoulders, his hand with a missing finger lingering on her arm. He’d lost that finger the same night I met Hex. “Now where’s the food? I’m starved.”

Sin glanced at the other hunters who had come up from Fear University with us. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Rest of the crew eats in the mess hall next to the infirmary. Only the top hunters and
special
guests,” he said, cutting smirking eyes toward Sunny and me, “eat in the dining room with Mr. and Mrs. Aultstriver. It’s an honor.”

“Wow. That’s so nice,” I said, but only Luke heard my sarcasm. He shot me a warning glance over his shoulder. Only the main Barrow trio, Luke, Hatter, Thad, Sunny, and I headed toward the archway where Killian had led Abigail earlier. My stomach rumbled as I stepped into the candlelit room.

The table itself took up most of the walking room and stretched out long enough to seat twenty. Above a delicate lace tablecloth, the table had been set with rows and rows of silverware and fine crystal goblets. Tall black candles perched on silver candlesticks in the middle, hot wax rolling down their long slender stems. The room was beautiful, if not a little gothic, and I wondered if Abigail had decorated the entire base herself. Maybe in an attempt to make a home for her and Luke. The thought crushed me with sadness as I took a seat between Sunny and Hatter.

In any other situation, I would have felt out of place in my rumpled traveling clothes amongst fine china and manners. But I didn’t. Having Eve, Sin, and Haze in the room made me feel pretty damn normal. When the soup was served, they tucked into it with a margin of decorum, but they still exuded a raw, snapping ferocity even sitting at a table with no ’swangs around. The hunters stationed at Fear University were nothing like the Barrow hunters, but then, I figured this wild, untamed land probably bred harder, meaner hunters. They had to be to survive. My eyes slipped over to Luke. Picturing him fitting in here with these savage hunters was easier than I thought it would be.

“Oh, Burt,” Abigail said, her hand fluttering to the slender, pale column of her throat as her eyes rose to the man in a prim black suit who busied himself with refilling our drinks. “Will you send Dr. Vasilievna some food? She’s working late in her lab.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Burt disappeared behind a swinging door that likely led into the kitchens.

“Who’s Dr. Vasilievna?”

Everyone quieted, eyes on me. Luke opened his mouth to answer my question but Killian beat him to it. “She’s a scientist, here to study aswang reproduction.” He looked away after responding, effectively cutting off anymore questions.

“That’s an interesting thing to study,” I commented just because I knew it would annoy him.

Sin snorted. “
Studying
implies actually doing something. She just sits in her lab all day watching those damn cameras like she’s going to see some ’swangs screwin’ or something.”

“It’s a good thing to study,” Eve said, shooting a glare at Sin, who just smirked at her. “It’s something we need to know about, and it’s safer if she stays inside and watches the camera feeds. Besides, we don’t have enough manpower to guard her if she went into the field often.”

“How many hunters are here?” I asked. I knew from classes and general talk at Fear University that all the bases up north were run by one person with a small coalition of hunters. Here, that was Killian and his hodge-podge group of tatted killers. Dean, as president of the university, acted as coordinator and general over all the leaders and their hunters, which by default made Dean the most powerful within the aswang hunting community. Whether I liked it or not, Fear University, with all its faults, was the center of my new world.

“About twenty hunters are stationed in Barrow to watch the town, but us,” she said, gesturing with her spoon to Haze and Sin, “and ten others stay at the base year-round.” She lowered her voice and leaned forward, an unsettling glint in her eye. “We hunt the tundra.”

One corner of her mouth hitched up in a wicked grin, like she was sharing a moment with me or something. I didn’t get it, but then, it’d been a long trip from Kodiak.

I nodded and returned my attention to the creamy mushroom soup in front of me, sipping it up from a wide silver spoon and taking the opportunity to study everyone while they ate. Luke and Hatter talked quietly between themselves. Occasionally, Sin burst out with a loud laugh from something Haze had signed to him, his thick fingers moving with surprising speed and grace. Killian sat at the head of the table, scowling into his food, with Abigail to his right. She hadn’t even picked up her spoon yet, and she appeared paler than she had when I first saw her coming down the stairs. Her excitement over Luke’s arrival had waned, and now she tilted ever so slightly to the side, like if a stiff breeze were to blow across the table, she might tumble off her chair. She only paid attention to her wine glass in front of her, which Killian dutifully kept topped off, motioning over Burt whenever her glass dipped below half.

By the time the main entree—roasted duck—was served, Abigail clutched the edge of the table to keep from falling over.

No one acted like they noticed her, but I knew Luke did. His stormy silence and anger sent snapping waves of tension throughout the room.

“So, Ollie.” My head snapped up at the sound of Killian’s voice. He smiled at me from the head of the table. “I heard you did well at Fields.”

I clenched my hands beneath the table. Beside me, Sunny went still, her focus on her lap. We’d been so close to dying that night. It hadn’t been a test; it was a murder attempt. “You could say that.” I managed to bite the words out.

“Don’t be modest,” Killian said, “I’ve received countless calls from professors talking about it. They said a first-year has never killed a ’swang, much less two in one semester.”

“That they know of,” Luke said, his words making Killian tense. I wondered if he was talking about himself. How many had he killed by first-year? Ten? A hundred?

I refused to let myself glance down the table toward Luke. I could take on his father without his help. “My test wasn’t exactly normal. Or so I’m told.”

Across the table, through the flickering light of the candles, Eve shrugged a tattooed shoulder. “You’re lucky.”

“How’s that?” My words came out a little more forceful than I meant, but Eve just smiled at me.

“Because you got to show everyone what you could do.” She leaned forward, like she was about to tell me a secret. “Women have a hard time proving themselves in this business.”

Haze made an odd snort that sounded like he was choking, and Sin rolled his eyes heavenward. “Oh, please. Not this glass ceiling bullshit. Just kill more ’swangs and no one will ask about your time of the month anymore. Simple as that.”

Eve flipped her dinner knife over in her hand. Sin laughed, turning his attention to me. “That’s how she got her nickname, you know. Because she’s such a bitch all the time, everyone just assumed she was constantly on the rag. Hence, Bloody Eve.”

The knife went flying, landing between Sin’s spread fingers on the table. It wobbled, half its blade buried in the table. Abigail giggled.

“This is a Baroque piece, Evelyn. I’ll have you remember that.” Killian hadn’t even looked up from his duck.

“Sorry, sir,” Eve said, shooting Sin a dark look before turning her focus back to me. “My point is, Ollie, take every opportunity you get, and make sure to kill everything that moves. Only then will you get a margin of the respect you deserve.”

The words could have been bitchy or condescending, and they almost sounded like it, but her eyes shone with vehemence. I knew she’d wanted to do more than threaten Sin’s fingers. She wanted to take one off, and maybe if they were alone, she would have. In that moment, I knew she’d truly earned her nickname and not because she was a bitch. She’d earned it the hard way, the way men like Sin didn’t like to acknowledge in public, so they belittled her instead.

“I plan on it,” I said quietly. “Killing everything that moves, that is.” My eyes flickered to Killian, and he met my gaze unblinking.

A threat. A promise. He could take it however he wanted.

The rest of dinner passed with superficial conversation that I mostly ignored. Eve joined back into the chatter with more jovial threats and not-so-subtle flirting, which she more often than not aimed in Luke’s direction along with lingering glances that set my teeth on edge. Halfway through dessert, I realized she and Sin were a couple. Not a very loyal one, given how she stared at Luke and how Sin’s eyes kept lingering on my chest, but together nonetheless. I couldn’t help but feel, as her gaze found mine occasionally, she’d been trying to warn me with the talk of killing everything that moved.

By the time we all stood up, ready to be shown to our rooms, Luke and his father had barely spoken to each other, and Abigail had fallen asleep in her chair.

Back in the entry, Burt told us our luggage had been left in our rooms and handed out little silver keys with a skull fretwork design on the end. Sunny and I had been assigned two separate rooms on the third floor. Everyone else was on the second. After receiving directions to our individual rooms, Sunny and I were the last ones to head up the stairs that coiled like a snake around the entry’s walls, and my feet dragged with exhaustion.

My injured pelvis caused my legs to move funny, and by the time we hit the third flight of stairs, I had to lean heavily on the banister. A little over two weeks had passed since my fight with the aswang during Fields, but my creaky, stiff limbs acted like it was yesterday. I told myself to be patient with my body, that even though I couldn’t feel it healing, it still needed to heal. Or so Sunny preached. I forced my legs to trudge up the last few steps.

And nearly fell back down them when a Sasquatch of a man almost ran me over.

“Excuse us!” Sunny said, reaching for my arm.

With a growl, I clutched the railing tighter and righted myself, shoveling hair out of my eyes to look up at the face of my newest douchebag acquaintance. “What the fuck?”

Sasquatch stepped back, and I was finally able to take him all in. Denim overalls. Plaid shirt. Tall snow boots. Leathery face with features lost behind a practical snowfall of a white beard, bushy eyebrows, mustache, and sideburns like you wouldn’t believe. Somewhere in there, I spotted two beady black eyes glaring at me. “That’s a pretty mouth you got there, darlin’,” he said in a deep and rumbling voice that vibrated my bones.

“Maybe you should watch where you’re stomping, Sasquatch.”

Thick, gray eyebrows rose, mustache twitching to possibly indicate he was smiling. I honestly didn’t know. The guy could have a nuclear weapon hidden under all that facial hair. “You must be Ollie Andrews. Your reputation precedes you.”

I stiffened, but tried not to let my surprise show on my face. “And who are you?”

“Texas Coldcrow. Mother named me Tex cause I was big as the state when I popped out of her. But you can just call me Coldcrow.”

I was almost ready to shove past this guy when his name finally registered in my mind. I paused, frowning. “Did you say Coldcrow? As in Peg Coldcrow?”

Peg Coldcrow was my first-year Aswang Psychology professor back at Fear University, and had been one of the only professors to welcome a civilian into their midst. We’d gotten into a scuffle with a day-form ’swang who had snuck into the university’s ward. Together, we killed the creature, but she’d learned I was part ’swang in the process. To pay me back for saving her and her baby, I was supposed to be going to her house this winter break, and, together, we were going to figure my shit out. I’d emailed and tried to call Peg countless times to explain why I wasn’t coming to her house in Oregon, but I’d never heard back from her.

I remembered now she’d mentioned an uncle living in Barrow. Frankly, I didn’t see the family resemblance.

Coldcrow’s black eyes squinted up tight, his beard bobbing. “She told me to keep an eye out for you. Said you would be up here for break.”

“What? How did she know I was coming? I tried to call her, but . . .”

Coldcrow popped the old knuckle joints in his fingers one at a time, the sound like snapping chicken necks. “Let me guess. She didn’t answer.”

“Yeah. Do you know why?”

“Sure, darlin’. I know.” His voice turned to a growl that was more chainsaw than human. “Cause she was attacked. Her family was killed.”

T H R E E

Ollie

“A
ttacked?” I sputtered. “How? Is she okay?”

“Happens all the time.” The words were harsh, but Coldcrow’s eyes tightened and the lines fanning out across his leathery face deepened. For a tiny split second, his dark eyes swam with tears. “She was barely home a week before the ’swangs attacked in revenge for killing one of their own. Sacked her house. Killed her husband and nearly killed Peg. Ate the—”