When I finally dragged my body out of bed the next morning, my eyes were so swollen that I could barely see. I wandered into my bathroom, only to find that I actually looked worse than I felt. The purple color of my eyes wasn’t identifiable in my reflection. Makeup streaked my cheeks and my forehead where I’d smeared it rubbing the tears away. My loose curls were tightly knotted and sticking out all over my head. I groaned.

I had several hours until I was due at the hangar for my flight to Nevada. I should’ve spent that time doing last minute preparations for my hunt, but I lacked the energy. I had a horrible headache that I wanted to blame on the alcohol, but I remembered that it was supposed to be hangover-free. I correctly attributed it to my uncontrollable hysteria over what had happened with Erik.

I filled my oversized bathtub with water as hot as I could bear and added scented oils that Gretchen had sent me. I plastered a cucumber-carrot cream over my entire face and slipped into the steaming water. The cream was one of Gretchen’s own concoctions; she used to slather the tangy-smelling lotion on both mine and Donavon’s injuries to reduce swelling. It worked wonders, and I hoped it would do the same for my puffy eyes.

Floating in the scented water, I tried to clear my head of Erik, of Donavon, and of anything else that didn’t directly relate to my upcoming assignment. It was a fruitless endeavor. I couldn’t erase Erik’s accusations from my mind. Did I really think about Donavon that much? I guess I did, but most of my thoughts weren’t exactly friendly. And really, what did Erik expect? Donavon was the only guy that I’d ever dated. The only guy I’d ever kissed. The only guy that I’d ever done anything with that a teenage girl does with a teenage boy. Of course I was going to think about Donavon, right? I didn’t still have feelings for Donavon, unless hate counted, right? Even if I did, was it really fair for Erik to expect me just to turn off my feelings for Donavon, even after what he’d done to me? And why was Erik fishing around in my head while we were making out, anyway? I didn’t reach into his head. Sure, I opened myself up to his feelings, but that was a lot different than rummaging around in his head to find out how I compared with every girl that he’d done whatever it is he does with them.

My bath ended up being less relaxing than I’d hoped. When I climbed out of the tub, trailing watery footprints across the bathroom floor, I was less ashamed about the way that I’d acted with Erik, and more enraged about the way that he’d acted with me. Actually, I was more than angry; I was fuming. I threw my necessary belongings into my black regulation backpack, roughly packing my clothes and gadgets while muttering to myself the whole time.

When a knock on the door interrupted my angry packing, my stomach was suddenly full of butterflies. I wanted to open my mind to find out who was there, but I wasn’t sure if the fluttering in my stomach was because I hoped that it were Erik, or because I hoped it were Donavon. The epiphany made me irrationally angry with Erik for being right about the whole Donavon thing.

Instead of opening my mind, I used it to throw open the door. The door slammed into the wall, chipping the purple paint; the doorjamb failed to slow its swing.

“Hey,” Penny called, tentatively.

“Oh, it’s you. Sorry, come on in,” I called back.

“Nervous?” Penny asked, jittery herself.

“Huh? Oh, about the hunt? Of course I’m nervous, but I’ll be fine. It’s just a graduation hunt, after all.” I tried to smile at her, but it came out strained.

“You’re distracted,” Penny said matter-of-factly.

“I. Am. Not. Distracted,” I practically growled at her.

“Tal, I know you’ve done really well on your hunts up until now,” she spoke softly as she slowly lowered herself to the floor to sit beside me. “But you really need your head in the game right now. This mission is extremely dangerous; I’ve seen all the intel.”

“I’ve seen it all, too, Penny,” I snapped at her, annoyed.

“Is it Erik?” Penny asked quietly.

“Yeah… kind of,” I relented, softening my tone.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” she suggested.

I gave her a hard look. As angry as I was with Erik, I knew that the minute I actually said the words out loud, I would be reliving possibly the most mortifying experience of my life. I intended to tell Penny I didn’t want to talk about it, but somehow I found myself launching into a detailed account of the night before. I stared at my hands the entire time I spoke; the only thing worse than a drunken fight was recounting a drunken fight while sober. I might as well have put it up on my wall screen and played it back in slow motion.

Penny listened without comment. When I finished, I finally looked up and met Penny’s green eyes, hoping to find something that made me feel better. Her eyes were full of concern, but I wasn’t exactly sure why.

“Erik will calm down. He cares a lot about you,” Penny finally said. She hesitated before continuing. “Do you want Donavon back?” Her voice was so quiet that if I hadn’t been sitting right next to her, I wouldn’t have heard her.

“No. No, I don’t,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.

“But maybe it was a little too soon to start something with Erik?” Penny prompted.

“Probably,” I admitted.

“He’ll be okay when you get back. He just needs a couple of days to calm down,” she assured me. I nodded and gave her a real smile. “Now that you’ve gotten that off your chest, will you please concentrate on your hunt?” she insisted.

“Yes, I will. You’re right—none of this is important right now.” Penny’s point was valid. This was exactly what Mac had been talking about; if I actually wanted to be a Hunter, I needed to start acting like it. The last thing that I should be devoting energy to was boys.

Penny finished packing my stuff while I reviewed intel again. Together, we made our way to the hover-hangar. We didn’t say much on the walk, but it was nice knowing that Penny was there.

Thanks to all of my mental anguish over Erik and Donavon, I hadn’t had time this morning to get too nervous about my mission. But as soon as the hangar came into view, my stomach constricted with fear and anxiety. I reached over and grabbed for Penny’s hand. She gave it a reassuring squeeze, and I gripped hers tighter.

In a couple of hours, I could be face-to-face with my parents’ murderer. In a couple of hours, I might kill Ian Crane—or Ian Crane might kill me. None of these sounded like win-win scenarios to me; in fact, they all seemed like lose-lose. Best case scenario, I confronted Ian Crane. I didn’t know if I’d be able to restrain myself from attacking him, but if I attacked him, my cover was blown. If my cover were blown, I’d better be sure that he died in that attack. If he died, it was unlikely that I’d make it very far before one of his men killed me. If I did somehow manage to Houdini my way out of there, it was unlikely that I’d graduate since my official assignment was information gathering. All-in-all, the outcome wasn’t likely going to be in my favor. Was I set up to fail?

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When we arrived, Mac was waiting inside the hangar with Captain Alvarez. His face was set in hard lines, his dark brown eyes unwelcoming. At least Captain Alvarez appeared pleased to see me—his dark features lit up with a reassuring smile when he noticed me.

“Do you make it a habit to see off the pledges on their solo hunts, or am I special?” I asked sarcastically. I was still miffed over Mac’s thinly-veiled threats.

“I happened to be here on business. I thought I would come say good luck, and remind you that if you don’t successfully complete this assignment, you won’t graduate. Please take this seriously,” Mac replied dryly. He must still be irked, too. Stalemate.

“I take every hunt seriously,” I shot back, my temper flaring.

“You’ve done very well up to this point, Natalia. I am sure this won’t be any different as long as you stay focused,” Captain Alvarez interjected, defusing the situation.

“I am focused,” I said through gritted teeth. Penny’s sharp intake of breath drew my attention away from Mac. Her eyes were pained, and I looked down at her hand, still enclosed in mine. Her fingers were turning purple from lack of circulation. I hastily released her.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

Mac walked over and gave me an awkward hug. I half-heartedly returned it.

“Be careful, Natalia,” he said in a low voice. His cold gray eyes found mine, “You know what you need to do.”

“I do.” My voice was so icy that I gave myself a shudder.

Penny turned and leaned down, wrapping her thin arms around me.

“Keep your eyes and ears open, and remember that I’m always there with you. I know you won’t be able to hear or see me, but I’ll be there on the other end of all your communications,” she choked. When she released me, she wiped tears from her cheeks. I gave her hand a gentle squeeze this time.

“Good luck, Lyons. Just remember—when you come back, you’ll be a real Hunter.” Captain Alvarez engulfed one of my hands in both of his, shaking it vigorously.

If I returned, I thought. “Thank you, sir,” I replied, giving him a small nod, suddenly very glad that he was here. I turned, walking over to my designated hover-plane.

“Talia, wait!” Henri panted as he ran into the hangar.

I smiled, “I thought you weren’t coming.”

He gave me a huge hug, squeezing me tightly, “Good luck, Talia. Be careful,” he whispered.

“Thank you. I will. I’ll be back before you know it.” I tried to make my voice sound light-hearted.

He swallowed. “I know.”

“Is Erik not coming?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I hated myself for asking.

“He thought it would be better if he didn’t.” Henri’s voice was kind.

“Of course, he’s right. It’s better this way,” I mumbled, more upset than I should’ve been.

“We’ll both be here when you get back, okay?” Henri ensured me.

I nodded, feeling tears prickling the corners of my eyes. I gave him another quick hug. He grasped one of my hands, pressing a tightly folded square of paper into my palm. I risked a quick glance before curling my fingers around the pointy edges; my name was scrawled across the front, and underneath my name it read, “For when you’re ready to hear it.” I gave Henri one last nod and then turned, continuing to the hover-plane before he could see the tears swimming in my eyes.

The moment that I stepped on the hover-plane, my mood shifted drastically. I pushed all thoughts of Erik and Donavon aside and focused all of my energy on the task at hand. Finding that I was too amped up to sleep, I again ran through all of the intel, over and over in my mind. When that became tiresome, I switched to sensory drills. Even still, the nearly four-hour flight went faster than I would’ve liked.

When the hover-plane landed, we were approximately sixty miles from the Nevada border. My backpack was already strapped firmly on my back when the craft lowered into the clearing. Instead of an adapti-suit, I was wearing black pants and a tight black jacket. Since this hunt wasn’t covert, an adapti-suit was unnecessary—I wasn’t hiding from anybody. Eventually, I would be trying to attract a certain amount of attention to myself. I called goodbye to the crew and readied myself as a metal panel in the bottom of the plane began to slide open. Looking down, even in the dead of night, I judged the ground to be about ten feet beneath me. Once the hole was large enough for me to fit through, I leapt.

Landing in a low crouch, I focused all my energy on my sight; even though the craft was quiet, it was not easy to hear above the dull hum. I drank in my surroundings, my eyes adjusting quickly. I didn’t wait for the hover-plane to rise back into the night, but immediately took off in a run. At this time of night, I would be spotted on my way into town, but there would be little traffic at the Las Vegas city border checkpoints. If I were to cross in the middle of the day, I’d be less noticeable, but it was safer for the hover-plane to drop me under the cover of darkness. Even in the middle of the night, the risk was too great for them to get me any closer than they did.

The soles of my black mesh shoes barely made any noise as I ran through the woods. I followed the map that I’d committed to memory, concentrating my energy on my sense of feel. Once out of the woods, I would find myself in a small neighborhood. Unlike my missions with Henri and Erik, there would be no hover-vehicle waiting for me. TOXIC had safe houses equipped with vehicles in this area, but it was too risky for me to cross the border in an Agency vehicle. The Coalition states were poor, so a car outfitted with the latest technology would cause suspicion. Instead, I would “borrow” a vehicle from one of the houses in the neighborhood.

My run through the woods went according to plan. I was feeling confident when I burst through the trees and into a grassy area behind a neighborhood home. Slowing to a walk, I took several deep breaths and willed my pulse to return to normal. I pulled the hood up over my curls, hoping to obscure as much of myself as possible.

I refocused my mental energy and expanded my mind, searching for any creatures that were awake in the area. I sensed several animals—dogs or wolves—in the vicinity. Concentrating harder, I pinpointed the exact homes that they guarded, and I made a mental note to steer clear of them. I crept around the side of the house, and quickly scanned the area. I found myself in a cul-de-sac with only six houses. Four homes had animals patrolling their yards. I chose one of the two houses without a security animal and quickly spotted a vehicle in the driveway. Relief flooded through me when I saw that it was a hover-vehicle; they make so much less noise than road-vehicles.

Crouching low next to the driver’s side door, I unhooked my backpack. I set the bag in my lap, and felt around for the residue-detector that attached to my portable Communicator. Once I connected the two, I turned on the detector and ran it over the keypad on the driver’s door. Five of the ten numbers glowed neon green. I waited as my Communicator processed the possible password combinations that the five numbers could make up. Several agonizing seconds passed before the screen of my Communicator displayed the top five most likely combination orders. I entered the first one and was rewarded with a soft click as the lock disengaged. Relieved, I eased the door open and crawled into the driver’s seat.

Thus far, pure adrenaline had steeled my nerves. But now, sitting in a car that I was about to steal, my apprehension returned. I took several calming breaths and acquainted myself with the vehicle. Mentally disengaging the door lock would have been risky, since the vehicle could have had an alarm, but there wouldn’t be a similar risk using my telekinetic powers to start the engine. The intel package had contained an entire section on engines in the most common hover- and land-vehicles. I’d meticulously studied each and every one. I placed my hand on the dashboard, envisioned the engine for a Y420 Hover-Craft—the name emblazoned on the dash—and mentally engaged all of the pistons. I held my breath as the engine came alive, purring softly.

Gently, I glided the hover-vehicle across the front lawn, hoping that nobody inside made a late-night bathroom run. I didn’t exhale until I was safely out of the neighborhood and soaring high above fields and pastures en route to Las Vegas. For my first solo driving experience, it was uneventful. I made a mental note to insist that Henri let me drive the Agency hover-craft next time we went into D.C.