Huntsman by Cambria Hebert
3
Earth
Why isn’t she acting scared?
Why is she acting excited?
Why—
“Is that your car?” she exclaimed. Her wheelchair halted in the middle of the sidewalk as she gaped at the vintage black Dodge Charger at the curb.
If most people—okay, literally any people—were to exclaim at my car like that, I’d be tempted to leave tread marks on their forehead as I sped off on the way to not giving a flying fuck.
But Virginia wasn’t any people. She was Neo’s little sister. So I bit back the biting reply to scratch behind my ear. “Well, I know it’s not exactly the cushy SUV Neo probably uses—”
“It’s way better!” Her arms flung up over her head in excitement. As they dropped, she rotated at the waist to find me with sparkling chestnut eyes. “Can I drive?”
It took me a heartbeat to digest the fact she liked the car and then another to realize she just asked to drive. Cheeky.
“Nobody drives my car but me.” I scowled.
Her lashes batted. “But I’m a really good driver.”
A con artist. Just like her brother.
“Don’t listen to her. She just ran over old Mr. Donaldson’s foot last week. The man acted like he was dying for days,” Emogen cracked from near the entrance to the Tower.
“Such a drama queen,” Virginia muttered. “He was wearing shoes.”
My lips curled inward so the scowl I favored so much couldn’t morph into a smile.
“Besides. It’s this clunky thing’s fault.” V patted the side of her wheelchair. “It’s clearly not as superb as this.” Her hands spread wide as if introducing the car.
“You wouldn’t be able to reach the pedals,” I told her on my way past to open up the passenger door.
A sound of horror filled the air. “How dare you discriminate against me because I’m short!”
I couldn’t help it. I smiled. Good thing I was facing inside the car when it happened. Wiping it off my face, I spun back, boots stomping over the uneven pavement as I closed the distance between us.
I didn’t like the way she craned her neck to stare up at me, and before I’d realized it, I’d dropped into a crouch in front of her chair, bringing us to eye level.
A little fissure of surprise flickered in her expression, but it was gone before I could really grasp hold.
Leaning in, I whispered, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… your legs don’t work.”
A delicate, small-fingered hand with yellow-painted nails flew up to cover her mouth. The shock pouring from her eyes made me frown. Had I gone too far?
A prickle of unfamiliar conscience stung the back of my neck, and my tongue started to move in apology before my lips even parted. “V—”
A little giggle bubbled out around the hand pressed against her lips.
My stare whipped up. Her eyes were glimmering, not with upset… but with humor.
More giggles burst out, and her narrow shoulders shook with it. A summer breeze blew down the street, tugging at a long strand of hair that had come loose from the braids she always wore. It wiggled around behind her like it, too, was laughing.
Her hand dropped, revealing a warm smile. “I missed you.”
Pause.
Those words were like a magic wand, the kind so powerful that, with just one flourish, it could put everything to sleep around you. Suddenly, the obnoxious city quieted. The scent of garbage always lingering in the streets disappeared. My fingers curled into my palms, tightening my hands into fists.
“I miss all of you. It gets boring here.”
A loud horn broke through the quiet. The wind picked up, smacking me in the face with the foul odor of trash. Just like that, the world started up again, leaving me with nail prints in my palms and a bitter taste on my tongue.
“We should go. We’re going to be late,” I said, straightening from the crouch.
Her face lifted, following my movements, and then her eyes strayed to the open door of the car. “Emogen?” she called out, turning toward the nurse still watching us from the entrance. “I might need help.”
Before the nurse was even two steps forward, I reached down to lift her easily out of the wheelchair.
She gasped at the same time her arms looped around my neck. “What are you doing?”
“Why are you so light?” I demanded.
Her eyes snapped up at my aggressive tone. “What?”
“Don’t you eat? You’re practically weightless!”
Emogen was halfway between the Tower and where we stood, frozen in place, staring.
My eyes narrowed. “Don’t you people feed her?”
Emogen’s eyes flashed, and her hands planted firmly on her hips.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I eat. And the staff here at the Tower are wonderful!”
A sound of disbelief rumbled deep in my chest.
Pat. Pat.
I glanced down to where her palm tapped lightly against my chest. My eyebrow lifted.
“Be nice,” she scolded softly.
“I got it from here,” I told Emogen. “Maybe I’ll make sure she has a meal too.”
“Earth!” Virginia gasped.
I said maybe. Seemed nice enough to me.
“I oughta bust you,” Emogen swore, voice full of attitude.
Some threats really weren’t even worth acknowledging, so I turned my back on the woman, carrying V the short distance to the car.
Her arms looped back around my neck, her fingertips grazing the skin just under my ear. Chills raced over my scalp, but I refused to acknowledge them.
“I usually transfer myself.” Was that shyness I heard in her tone?
My footsteps halted. “I don’t have a board in my car, so you’re stuck with me today.”
Usually when Virginia went anywhere with us, Neo drove one of Ivory’s big SUVs where they kept a long board that could act as almost a bridge between her wheelchair and the seat of the car. I’d only seen V transfer herself a couple times from chair to car, but she did it efficiently, even if it did look difficult.
“Watch your head,” I said softly, reaching up to block her head with my leather-covered arm even as I leaned down to put her in the car. When she was seated, I pulled back, a long strand of her yellow hair clinging to my forearm. The enclosed space of the car seemed much smaller when I plucked it away carefully to tuck it behind her ear.
Our eyes met and held as I pulled back a fraction, still close enough to see all the different shades of brown in the depths of her stare.
“Thank you.” Her voice was soft. Breathless.
“No problem,” I said, wrenching back to grab the seat belt and pull it partway across her chest. “Here.”
She took it, tugging it the rest of the way around her. The sharp click of it locking in place seemed loud.
Crouching again, this time in the open door, my gaze ran over her. “You comfortable? Need adjusting?”
The way she tugged at the long length of her dress, making sure it was covering all of her legs, made my heart pinch a little.
“I’m good.” She assured me, smiling again.
Seriously, how does she smile so much?
“Watch yourself,” I warned before shutting the door between us. If I slammed the metal a little harder than usual, it was because I wanted to make sure the door was thoroughly closed.
Back on the sidewalk, I grabbed the wheelchair and took it to the trunk. After a few fumbles, I managed to remember how it folded up and then stowed it away.
Slipping into the driver’s seat and pulling out the keys, I started up the ignition, feeling deep satisfaction at the way the engine purred aggressively. I put my seatbelt on, then snatched the black aviators off my visor and slipped them over my eyes.
Only then did I notice the charged silence.
My head rotated.
Virginia sat, arms crossed over her chest, glaring at me.
“What?” I barked.
She didn’t even flinch. Unfolding her arms, she flung one out toward the windshield, pointing accusingly. “I can’t see over the dashboard!”
The force of my laugh was so strong the back of my head hit the headrest behind me. “Shrimp.”
“I am not a shrimp!” she declared, smacking at the dash, which she couldn’t reach. “Ugh. The one time I get to ride in this gorgeous car and I can’t even see out the window!” Crossing her arms, she turned her head away to mutter, “Stupid bucket seats.”
I was about to laugh again, but then I saw her shoulders rise and fall, and a bit of darker emotion clouded around. I was pretty good at reading people. At sensing things they didn’t say.
It was why I was a good killer. Observation was key to making a successful kill.
Also, I was around a lot of different people every night at the bar.
But you know, mostly, it was because I was a huntsman.
I never thought of myself as that before… until Ivory. Until I heard her refer to me that way. It seemed fitting. I was a huntsman. Of people.
Excitement had exploded around V when she saw this beast at the curb. I guess she was used to that boring SUV or yellow taxis. Hell, she seemed pretty annoyed when I showed up at all. Clearly, she’d thought she was getting to venture out on her own for once.
I never really thought about the fact she was always with Neo whenever she left the Tower. It pinched my cold heart to think that perhaps going out today with me seemed like an adventure.
Reaching into the back seat, I grabbed the pillow I’d tossed there and dragged it up front. A passing car laid on their horn when I flung my door open.
I wasn’t even out when the clearly offended driver slammed on their brakes, making their back end fishtail and the smell of burned rubber fill the street. As I unfolded more, they squealed into reverse, flying backward to stop right beside the Charger.
I don’t know what the driver expected, but it wasn’t me striding right up to the passenger window to rap on the glass.
A second of hesitation and then the glass rolled down. I took a second, casually resting my forearm on the window frame to lean in. The young driver’s eyes were sharp with attitude, but the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he stared made me chuckle viciously.
Tugging the shades away from my eyes, I hit him with the vacant, unblinking stare that was as natural as breathing to me. “You got a problem?”
“U-uh. N-”
“Run along now. I ain’t got time for this.”
His eyes flickered, and the arrogant toughness that caused him to back up rose again. His fingers barely shifted around the steering wheel.
“You could reach for the knife you have in your boot, but by the time you even thought about using it, I’d already have it in my possession and inside that meaty part of your thigh. And I wouldn’t just slip it in. I’d twist. That way, the wound wouldn’t heal, and you’d lose twice as much blood. Think you could make it to the hospital like that in time?”
Color drained from his face. His eyes flickered in disbelief and then fear.
His tires left skid marks on the street as he peeled away, nearly drifting around the corner at the end.
“Fucking kid,” I muttered as I went to the sidewalk. “Gonna rip the transmission right outta that car.”
Virginia’s eyes were wide when I opened her door. “What was that?” she asked.
I leaned back. “You scared?”
“Why would I be scared? I felt like I was watching The Fast and the Furious live!”
“TV rots your brain.”
“So does beer,” she retorted.
“Touché.” I snatched the pillow. “Lift up.”
Realization bloomed in her eyes, and she quickly used her arms to push her body up. I stuffed the pillow under her butt, making sure it was secure and fluffed up.
“Better?” I asked when we were done.
“It’s perfect!” she exclaimed, gazing out over the dashboard. The way she stretched her neck made me wonder how good the view was, but she didn’t complain. All she did was smile.
I grunted and pulled back, but when her fingers fluttered like the brush of delicate butterfly wings over the back of my hand, I paused. Stiffening, I glanced back, seeing her bright yellow nails resting there.
“Thank you,” she said, sincerity heavy in her voice.
I stared at where she touched me a moment longer before shifting up to look at her face. For someone so small, she was so very bright. Her excitement and curiosity seemed limitless. Her emotions shifted so easily.
If she had wings, she’d zoom all over the place, embracing everything she found.
“You’re welcome, sprite.”
Her fingers jolted just barely on the back of my hand. My eyes narrowed.
“No one’s called me that in a long time.”
“Sprite?”
Her head bobbed.
“Your parents?” I practically demanded.
“Oh, no!” she quickly refuted. “No. It was actually a physical therapist that used to work here.”
My upper lip curled. “What happened to him?”
“Oh.” The down sweep of her lashes was alluring, as was the need to see whatever her hidden gaze might reveal. Seconds later, they lifted, but I knew whatever had been there was safely tucked away. “He went to work somewhere else.”
“Good.”
She gasped.
Guess I said that out loud. I didn’t apologize. Why should I? She knew I was an asshole. Instead, I said, “I won’t call you that. Must be a bad memory.”
“I actually like it,” she rushed out.
My stare settled back on her, a little bit of surprise in my stare. Her cheeks pinkened, blooming a rosy shade. The ice block frozen solidly around my heart began to sweat. It was uncomfortable, and it pissed me off.
“Well, I don’t,” I declared, slamming the door between us.
“Earth?” she asked when I was finally back in the driver’s seat.
I groaned. Dear God, does this woman ever stop talking? And isn’t she offended I just yelled at her? “What now?”
“Will you drive fast?” The hopeful excitement in her voice made me tired.
“No.”
“Pleeease?”
I grunted. “Fine, but don’t tell your brother.”
The skid marks I left on the road as I peeled away were much bigger than the loser who left them before.