“Director McDonough,” Erik greeted him in a tone just south of respect.

“Mr. Kelley,” Mac nodded, ignoring Erik’s inflection.

“Hi, Mac,” I mumbled.

“Natalia,” he didn’t sound happy. “Mr. Kelley, could you excuse us for a moment?”

Erik nodded, but waited until I gave him the okay before stepping through the open doorway. “I’ll be right outside, Tals.”

Mac walked over and took the place on my bed that Erik had just vacated. He didn’t say anything for several minutes. I shifted uncomfortably on my slightly soggy sheets.

“How much trouble am I in?” I asked when I couldn’t stand the silence anymore. I figured, at the very least, there would be repercussions for the property damage, not to mention the fighting.

“No trouble. I already took care of it.” He wouldn’t look in my direction. Relief washed over me; Mac’s position as my de facto guardian did have its advantages.

“Thank you,” I replied quietly.

“You don’t need to thank me. While I cannot condone your actions, I cannot say that I blame you either. Donavon and the girl were not harmed.” He added the last part almost as an afterthought.

“I wish I could say that’s a good thing,” I blurted out. A hot flush crept up my neck and spread across my cheeks. I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud.

Mac actually laughed. “I warned him not to make you mad.”

That wasn’t exactly the response I’d expected. Mac knew that I had a temper, but I wasn’t aware that he thought it warranted a warning. Worse, it was almost like he’d expected something like this to happen. Should I be angry that Mac thought so little of my self-control? I guess, in light of my actions, he was assumptions were justified.

Neither of us spoke for several agonizing minutes. Just when I thought that he might leave without another word, he spoke, his usual no-nonsense demeanor back in place.

“I have lined up several more missions for your team in the coming weeks. You’ve done exceptionally well in your training, and I think you should take this opportunity to refocus. I know that, right now, this seems like the end of the world, but you are smart and I am sure when you take a step back you will realize this is for the best. We are still a nation at war, and there are more important things that need your attention.”

To anyone else, Mac’s words would have seemed harsh and uncaring, but I knew that he wasn’t saying it to be cruel. Mac believed in TOXIC. He was right—there were more important things for me to worry about. His words shamed me; here I was concentrating on my love life when, in the grand scheme of life, it was inconsequential. Mac was also right about me feeling as if it were the end of the world. But Donavon’s betrayal did feel like the end of the world, at least the end of mine. How was I going to keep going when Donavon had been the only reassuring presence in my life since my parents’ deaths?

When I finally summoned the ability to speak, I fought to keep my voice even. “Thank you. You’re right. I would really like to concentrate on work. I think it will help.” As I said the words, I knew that they were true.

Of course, I desperately wanted to crawl under my comforter and never see the light of day again. However, I had a duty, and I would not further disgrace Mac by shirking my responsibility to The Agency. I couldn’t even imagine what the people that Mac answered to thought about me attacking Donavon, but I am positive that it didn’t reflect well on Mac. And there was no way I would lend any more credence to the commonly held belief that I didn’t belong here.

“I have you scheduled to leave in a couple of days for a week-long mission. I’ve made arrangements for the three of you to be moved to the apartments. Your personal belongings will be in your new rooms when you return.”

What? Teams with pledges were never housed in the apartments.

“You don’t need to do that,” I argued. “I don’t want special favors or anything.”

Mac raised his eyebrows. “You don’t? I didn’t even make provisions for Donavon to go to the city when he was a pledge, let alone one of his friends.”

“That was different,” I mumbled, embarrassed.

“I’m not doing this just for you. I think that it would be best to put some distance between you and Donavon for a while, at least until you both calm down. If you are living in the apartments, you won’t see each other. Both of you will concentrate better this way,” he reasoned. Mac is nothing if not practical. “Your friend Penelope is housed in the west wing, is that correct?”

I nodded.

“Good, you will be on the same floor, as will Mr. Reich and Mr. Kelley.” His thin lips smiled, but his gray brown eyes remained cool. “I have to take care of some business now. I just wanted to be sure that you were okay.” He got up to leave. “Oh, I have some packages for you from Gretchen. I will have them sent to your new room.”

“Thanks, Mac.”

He nodded, then turned and walked out of the cabin.

I sat alone for several minutes, contemplating Mac’s words. The reality was that I’d chosen this life; I’d chosen to be a Hunter. The luxury to heal my broken heart in peace wasn’t one that I’d be afforded. Normal teenage girls, even Talented ones, would be allowed to mourn their loss. But I was not normal, I was a Hunter. Well, almost a Hunter, anyway. Hunters weren’t supposed to let emotion cloud their judgment. Mac wouldn’t be the only person I’d be letting down if I didn’t pull myself together.

Erik appeared in the cabin doorway, followed by Penny, interrupting my mental pep talk.

“Hi, Tal,” her tone was unusually subdued.

“Hey, Penny.” For some reason, seeing her brought on a fresh wave of tears, and my earlier resolve vanished. She rushed over to me and threw her arms around me in a huge hug.

“It’s okay,” she soothed. “It’s okay.”

Thankfully, news spreads fast at Headquarters—particularly when you destroy an entire cabin—so Penny already knew what happened. I don’t think that I could’ve managed the words to tell her myself. I heard the cabin door open and shut quietly, signaling Erik’s departure. I was crying so hard that I started hiccupping. Eventually, my tear ducts ran dry, and I just shook with dry, retching sobs. Penny sat there, holding my head to her shoulder, and smoothed my tangled curls. She never said anything, but I didn’t need her to—just knowing that she was there was enough.

The days that followed passed in a blur. I slept, I trained, and I slept again. I only ate when Henri made me. Everything tasted like sand. I spent most of my free time with Penny, but the constant look of concern and pity in her eyes was almost too much to bear. I knew that if I read her mind, it would match the look in her eyes, so I refrained.

Erik and Henri were no different. Both went out of their way to be nice. Henri made it a point to go easy on me during practices, treating me as if I were a china doll. At first, I was grateful—I didn’t have the energy or the desire to train—but it wasn’t long before I began to feel pathetic. I’d always hated showing weakness, and now I was sitting back and letting everybody treat me like a child. Instead of getting angry with them, I became angrier at myself. I was angry for having let Donavon take such a hold on my life that his absence nearly destroyed me. I was angry for letting myself be taken advantage of and angry for letting everyone coddle me. I’d never felt so utterly worthless in my life.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

The nights seemed to go on forever, alternating between vivid nightmares and harsh reality. My dreams were filled with images of Donavon making out with the faceless blond girl. I couldn’t shake them from my mind. I would wake up crying, and for several blissful moments, I wouldn’t be able to remember why I was so upset. Then reality would set in, and images of Donavon—half-naked, jumping out of his bed—would tear through my consciousness, and the floodgates that held my tears back would break.

After my parents’ deaths, I’d been furious. Mac had offered me the opportunity to join the McDonough School; to replace my grief with purpose and to avenge their deaths. I’d given everything I had to training—honing my existing abilities, developing new ones, and channeling my feelings towards a goal.

At first, for the month that I had been in the Medical Ward at the School, I’d felt so alone. Up until then, I’d never spent more than a day or two away from my parents. In the Medical Ward, the only company I had was the medics that came to take my blood and check my vitals and, of course, Mac. Unfortunately, Mac was no substitute for my parents. My parents had been warm and caring. Mac was straight to the point and matter-of-fact. While over time he became like a surrogate father, he was impersonal and cold compared to my warm and loving parents.

When I left the Medical Ward, I met Donavon, and from that day on, I’d counted on him. Until now, he had never let me down. Donavon hadn’t replaced my parents either, but overnight, he became everything to me—my best friend, my family, and, eventually, my boyfriend. We shared everything. And, thanks to my mental capabilities, we even shared our innermost secrets, thoughts, and desires. I doubted that people who spent an entire lifetime together died knowing as much about each other, or feeling as close to one another, as I’d felt to Donavon. Or so I’d thought.

Donavon’s betrayal was made worse because it made me doubt myself and my Talents. Before, I’d felt secure in the notion that I could tell who to trust by using my abilities. Yet, Donavon had been able to keep a monumental secret from me. I hadn’t even guessed that something was wrong. I felt like a fool when I thought about how many people probably knew Donavon’s secret while I, who could supposedly read his every thought, had been oblivious.

I would’ve been convinced that Erik was restraining himself from saying “I told you so,” but I frequently connected with his mind, and what I found was even worse—sympathy. Outside of practice, I kept my mind closed; I didn’t want to know what others thought about me.

The anger and resentment built steadily in the days that followed the incident with Donavon until one day, I finally snapped during practice. Henri had us doing two-on-one sparring drills. He was blindfolded in the center of the sparring mat, while Erik and I took turns attacking him from different angles. Erik barked commands into my head, but my lack of concentration made me flounder in most of my attempts. Erik’s frustration at my inability to focus, mixed with pity, crashed through his mental barricades and saturated my subconscious. The restrained haze that I’d been living in for days cleared. My self-control shattered like a thin layer of ice.

Instead of attacking Henri, I rounded on Erik, launching myself through the air. He was so surprised that he didn’t have time to defend himself. I collided with him, my momentum knocking him to the ground. I landed on top, my legs straddling his waist. I pulled my right fist back to hit him, but I hadn’t broken the mental connection before attacking. He read my mind and caught my fist in mid-air, stopping the assault. Not missing a beat, I drew my left fist back and hooked him in the side of the head. He barely noticed. He wrapped his large hands around my waist and hoisted me up and over his head. I rolled neatly to my feet and turned to see him crouched low, the long sinewy muscles in his arms coiled like twin snakes ready to attack. His eyes were black and alive, two coals burning with excitement. I felt electricity course through the connection, fueling my own desire for the fight.

“STOP!” Henri bellowed, throwing off the blindfold.

But it was too late. I was like a lioness on a hunt; I smelled the prey and nothing could change my direction. Erik didn’t spare him a glance before hurtling towards me. I was unprepared for his speed and ferocity. I leaned to my right just in time to avoid a direct hit, but one of his corded arms caught me around the waist, slamming me onto the mat. The air rushed from my lungs, but I managed to roll on my side before he could get himself on top of me. I was on my feet before he was, and I didn’t waste the opportunity. I kicked him as hard as I could in his midsection. It barely slowed his ascent. I raised my leg to kick a second time, but he was too fast. His long fingers encircled my ankle. He managed to throw me backwards across the mat using a combination of his own physical strength and my mimicked telekinesis. I scrambled to my feet, anticipating another attack.

“Talia! Erik!” Henri shouted, trying to get our attention.

Erik glanced sidelong at him. Then he looked back at me. His lips parted slightly, revealing his perfect white teeth, his canines looking sharper than I remembered. I could feel the thrill emanating off him in waves and my own pores soaked up his excitement.

“That all you got, Tals?” he taunted. “You know what? I do pity you. Your fighting skills are abysmal.”

I knew that he was mocking me, purposely provoking me now. He knew that I would rise to the challenge. I let out an inhuman scream, a jumble of the unspoken emotions ripping me apart from the inside out, and ran full tilt towards Erik. I’m not sure if it was my screaming or if Erik read the plan out of my head, but he ran toward me at the same time. When we were still a couple of yards apart, we both leapt, crashing with a thwack in mid-air. We fell onto the mat, our arms and legs wrapped oddly around one another as if we were doing some bizarre dance. We began to roll around; punching and kicking with each opportunity we were given. He would use my mental powers to throw me across the room, only to have me pull him toward me to go another round.

Erik was, no doubt, the better combatant, but today, I was in a rage-driven haze. For the first time in days, I felt alive. The physical pain made me forget about the emotional battering I’d taken only days before. The adrenaline steeled my frazzled psyche. I was like a junkie; I wanted more. Erik’s desire encouraged my own, and I fed off of the thrill that the fight provoked deep within him.

Henri had given up trying to stop us and positioned himself against a wall, clucking his disapproval.

Eventually, my stamina started to weaken. Erik pressed his advantage. There would be no more coddling from him, no mercy. I tried to use his resilience to reinvigorate my tired and aching body, but he was waning, too. He pinned me underneath him, straddling me and squeezing my ribcage with his thighs. I was starting to see black spots, my already-labored breathing and short arm span were doing me no favors. Too much more mental exertion and I’d pass out. I summoned my remaining strength and mentally flung him off of me; I knew that I was on the verge of unconsciousness either way. I heard him hit the ground with a thud. I blinked furiously at the spots dotting my vision, trying desperately to hold on to awareness.

The dots grew smaller and smaller until I was left with a clear view of the glass ceiling, high overhead. I was too tired to move, almost too tired to breathe. My body throbbed from being thrown and pummeled. I knew that I would be very bruised tomorrow. My breath was still coming out in labored gasps, and I didn’t hear Erik crawling his way across the padded floor until he was nearly on top of me.

“Concede,” he wheezed, flipping down beside me.

“Never,” I muttered. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the slight upturn of his mouth as his lips curved into a smile. We lay side by side trying to catch our breath for several long minutes.

“Feel better?” he whispered in my ear, his voice so soft that a strong gust of wind could have taken it away.

I turned to face him. He had been careful not to hit me in the face, but I had not responded in kind. The right side of his face was puffy and red from several lucky shots that I’d landed. I reached over, lightly running my fingers over his swollen skin.

Exhaustion was weighing on my eyelids. If I could have, I would’ve closed them right then and there, falling into a deep and satisfied slumber. The brief determination that I’d mustered after Mac’s speech in the cabin several days before returned, full force. Now, more than ever, I knew that I was meant to be here, to be a Hunter.

The release of so much pent up aggression made me feel better than I had in days; giving me hope that I would, in fact, be able to get past Donavon’s betrayal. The anger and hurt were still there, just not as intense. While I was still having trouble catching my breath, the iceberg in my chest was starting to thaw a little. My stomach even grumbled, and I realized that I was finally hungry. I had no idea how long this adrenaline high would last, but I was willing to do just about anything to hold on to it.

“Thanks, Erik,” I finally whispered back.

“If you two are done killing each other, can we please get back to practice?” Henri asked, his tall body looming over us. He tried to sound irritated at the interruption to our practice, but I could feel his elation at finally seeing me focus my energy on something productive—even if that was attacking my own teammate.