Spirit

But Kate didn’t show for fourth period, and his texts went unanswered. Now he felt like a fool, sitting around like an eager puppy expecting a bone.

As usual, he was standing at a crossroads, with no idea which direction was right.

Instead of heading to the cafeteria at lunch, he went out back, to where a few concrete picnic tables were lined up under the pine trees. The weather was still crap, with rain dripping between the branches to soak the ground and seal the chill to his body, but it was outside, and deserted, and he could feel the elements and think.

He lay on one of the tables and stared at the sky. The gun dug into the small of his back and the rain seemed to aim straight for his eyes.

He remembered Kate’s words from yesterday. Don’t you trust anyone?

No. He didn’t. It had been his father’s last lesson, and Hunter had learned it well.

A branch cracked and split somewhere to his left, and he was off the table in a heartbeat.

He landed in a crouch and surveyed the pine trees. Nothing.

His hand found the gun, but he didn’t draw it—the last thing he needed was for some teacher to catch him with a firearm.

The trees were still, aside from slow drops of water rolling from leaf to leaf. The air was full of information, centering on the fact that someone hid nearby.

Yesterday, Kate had dropped out of a tree to tackle him. He glanced up, though all he found overhead was sky.

Then he felt motion before he saw anything, and he was moving, spinning, dropping, all before his brain registered the attack.

Everything was too fast—he couldn’t even tell who’d come after him. Sheer size said it was a guy; light hair said it wasn’t one of the Merricks. Then the air dropped ten degrees, turning thin and hard to breathe. Ice formed on his cheeks, stinging his eyes and stealing his vision.

Then a fist caught him in the shoulder. The left one, exactly where he’d been shot.

The sudden pain almost knocked him down. It felt like he’d been shot again. No, it felt like his whole arm was dislocating from his body.

His power flared without direction, pulling strength from the ground and the air, and when he swung a fist, he connected hard.

But he didn’t stop there. Most people fought to drive an enemy away—not Hunter. He’d been taught to pull an enemy close, to cause the most damage. He blinked frost out of his eyes and threw his joints into retaliation, drawing strength from the ground, connecting, punishing.

He knew the moment when his attacker wanted to get some distance, and Hunter felt the surge of victory as he got the upper hand.

Then a fist snuck inside his guard and jabbed him right in the throat.

Hunter went down. Worse—he couldn’t breathe. He was on all fours in the grit and pavement of the school patio, and he was going to choke to death because no one else was stupid enough to be out here in the rain.

He sensed movement, and the gun found his hand.

The movement stopped. “You’re better than I thought you’d be.”

He had an accent, leaving the words clipped.

Hunter coughed and it hurt like a bitch. But it meant air was working its way into his lungs, so he couldn’t complain.

Get up. Get up, you wuss.

He shoved himself to his feet to face his attacker, keeping the gun pointed. At least his hand was steady.

The man was tall, younger than Hunter expected, with darker skin and ice-blue eyes. He looked military fit, with close-cropped hair and a steady stance. He also looked like he didn’t take any crap—he was here to do a job, and he was going to do it.

Hunter briefly wondered if this was how he would have turned out, if his father hadn’t died.

“Do us both a favor and put the gun away,” said the man.

“You’re Silver,” Hunter said. It sounded like he was talking through a throat full of gravel. “You shot me last night.”

A nod. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill you last night.”

“You’re lucky I’m not killing you right now.”

“I don’t think luck has anything to do with it. Put the gun away.”

Hunter didn’t move, and the man raised an eyebrow. “You were the proverbial sitting duck a few moments ago. Surely you realize I would have already killed you if I meant you harm.”

Hunter rolled that around in his head for a moment. He couldn’t sit here all day holding a gun, either. His father used to say, “Pointing a gun means nothing if you’re not willing to fire it.”

Could he shoot this guy?

No. He couldn’t.

He slid the gun into the holster. “Where’s Kate?”

“I had doubts about her ability to evaluate whether you were a threat.”

Hunter rubbed at his throat. Again, he was reminded of Gabriel’s comment that first night. Keep your enemies closer. Or the old saying, The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Silver had shot him, had just about kicked his ass right here in the school courtyard, but Hunter didn’t get the impression that the guy was really here to fight with him.

“If you’re here to stop the Elementals who are starting fires, I want the same thing,” said Hunter. “I’m no threat to you.”

A smile. “I’m not worried about you being a threat to me.”

God, this guy was cocky. Hunter bristled. “I told Kate I would help her figure out who the others are.”

“I’m curious—why would you agree to turn in some, but not all?”

He had to be talking about the Merricks. “I don’t have to turn in anyone. You know who the Merricks are. It doesn’t matter anyway. They aren’t the ones causing trouble.”

A frown. “You know what your father was, do you not?”

Hunter frowned back at him. He wasn’t sure where this conversation was going. “Yes.”

“And you have no problem with the Merricks’ continued existence?”

“I told you—they’re not hurting anyone.”

Silver leaned against the picnic table. “Did Kate tell you about her mother?”

“She told me she was killed by a Water Elemental.”

The man nodded. “Did Kate mention that she went after the same Water Elemental to finish the job?”

They’d talked about vengeance, but they’d never talked about killing anyone.

Then again, he hadn’t known what Kate was. Not then. “No,” he said. “She didn’t.”

“You see, Hunter Garrity, son of John Garrity, your father was a great man. He did what needed to be done, for the good of all. I wasn’t aware he had a son, so you’re a bit of a mystery. I worry that you have missed the mark somewhere.”

Hunter felt fury well up inside, but not at Silver. At himself. He worried about the exact same thing. “I told Kate that I would find the other Elementals.”

“You talk about Elementals as if there are shades of gray. There are not. There are full Elementals, and there are Guides.”

Hunter didn’t say anything.

Silver studied him. “When I finish the job I’ve come here to do, which side will you stand on?”

“What difference does it make?” Hunter snapped.

“It makes a great deal of difference if the five of you can form a full circle. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

“Yeah.” Silver was saying he wouldn’t take the chance of Hunter helping the Merricks to fight back.

Hunter wondered if that meant Silver would kill him right now if he gave the wrong answers.

He was so sick of this debate over right and wrong. Silver’s attacking him had been a relief of sorts—he could defend himself from an assault. A fight was clear-cut.

But really, wasn’t this just as clear-cut?

Silver was still watching him. His voice was grave. “I knew your father. I respected him, and I was sorry to hear of his death. I would rather not kill you, but I put duty before emotion. Do you?”

Hunter looked away. Rain snuck inside the collar of his shirt to make him shiver.

“You were negotiating with Calla Dean,” said Silver. “Why?”

“I didn’t want her to hurt anyone else.”

“Why didn’t you kill her when you had the opportunity? From what I’ve read, she’s been hurting people for a while, and many of them.”

“I didn’t know who else she was working with.”

Silver straightened. “I don’t believe that’s a complete answer.”

Hunter scowled. Maybe it was the repeated mentions of his father, but somehow this conversation radiated disappointment, and he felt obligated to prove himself. “I thought she was my friend at first. I thought I understood her. I wanted to find out why she was drawing the Guides here.”

“You don’t think she should have been put to death for the crimes she committed?”

Hunter didn’t have an answer for that, either.

And wasn’t that answer enough?

He kept going back to that conversation with Michael in the truck, about turning off his conscience. Was that the problem here? Had he been going about everything all wrong? Was it really so simple as needing to focus on the goal and forget how he got there?

Kate was full of rage against pure Elementals—and he got it, if they’d killed her mother. He hadn’t been able to kill Michael and Gabriel a few weeks ago. He hadn’t been able to kill Calla.

He hadn’t been able to do the job he’d been born to do.

The Merricks were a family. They’d stick together. They’d do whatever they had to do to keep themselves together and safe.

And was working with Silver even a betrayal? They were leaving.

With a sudden flash of understanding, he wondered if this was the true reason his mother had hidden those weapons, those files. She thought he was living in enemy territory. She thought the Merricks might be a danger to him.

And they were, in a way: they’d made him a target. A bullet through his shoulder had proven that.

He’d been off track for a while now. But here, talking to Silver, a man who’d tried to kill him, he felt like he’d found the rails.

He squared his shoulders and looked up. “I’m not your enemy,” he said. “Tell me what you want to know.”

CHAPTER 21

Kate sat with Hunter outside the middle school. He was nursing a bottle of water, twisting it between his hands until she was reminded of Silver with his weapons.

“Nervous?” she said.

“No.”

“Which one are we waiting for?”

“I’ll know when I see them.”

He was different this afternoon, more determined, maybe. It reminded her of the first day in the cafeteria, when she’d seen him so tightly coiled, so full of control. She wondered just what Silver had said to him.

And what it would take to make him snap again.

“Did I miss anything exciting in History?” she said.

He didn’t look over. “Do you really care?”

“I care deeply about the Treaty of Versailles.”

His eyes flicked her way. “Really. Describe it.”

She could call his bluff since she’d read the chapter last night, thinking she’d be in school today. If Silver hadn’t been so damned overbearing, she would have been. “It ended the First World War and made Germany realize they weren’t the badasses they thought they were.”

Hunter sniffed and looked back at the door of the school.

“Look,” she said. “I don’t get what your problem is.”

“I don’t have a problem, Kate.”

“What’s with the attitude?”

“No attitude.” His eyes cut her way again, his gaze sharp as steel. “I’m just done being played.”

“I never played you.”

“Okay.”

“The sarcasm really isn’t attractive.”