Page 2 of Wings and Shadowthief

Things were different here in Oldcrest, a territory entirely hidden from mortal eyes and protected by many spells, but Chloe, like any new vampire, needed to practice acting human. She made no such effort today.

"Yeah, Jack's organizing a lunch race today. The meeting was about half an hour ago. I told him I’d be late, but I want to get there as soon as I can. Didn't he message you?"

Gwen's face went blank, as it had every time that name had come up in conversation over the last five months.

Jack fucking Hunter.

"Maybe," Gwen replied, noncommittal as a fairy. In truth, she'd blocked his number sometimes last spring.

"Are you coming?" Chloe pushed.

Fair question. Gwen attended the races Jack had set up around Oldcrest in order to network with the huntsmen. Their organization was always useful to witches. Plus, like every witch, Gwen needed to stay fit. Their magic was only as strong as their minds and bodies—cardio was essential to being able to maintain spells for an extended period of time. Running was her sport of choice.

There weren't many sports to practice in Oldcrest, except for actual combat training, and Gwen wasn't fond of it. She'd learned the basics, and she trained with Chloe and some of her friends pretty often. She'd even let Tris give her a few private lessons. But taking a regular course where she was graded based on her performance? No way. Gwen wasn't into physical violence. She only fought hand to hand to protect herself—and in situations where her life was in danger, her magic served her better than her fists.

Some students swam in the lake, but that was quite out of the question. Shifters and vampires may be fine in the freezing-cold Scottish lake, but Gwen only dipped her toes in heated pools or Mediterranean water.

"Pass." Her response was automatic.

She wasn't going to hang out with Jack Hunter like nothing had happened between them.

Maybe it was petty of her. Maybe she was pissed for no good reason. But never one to ignore her feelings, Gwen fully intended to avoid the asshole as long as she felt like it. It should only take a decade or two until she was fine standing in the same room as him.

Gwen had never felt so humiliated, so small, as she had the day Jack Hunter had ignored her last November.

Fuck him.

Fuck him to hell and back.

"You're sure? He's throwing five hundred bucks to the one who comes in first."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Isn't that cheating? You have vampire speed. You're clearly going to win."

Chloe's grin uncovered her pointed fangs. "Oh, I'm not racing with them. I'm hunting them."

In the Dark

Turned out, expecting disappointment did little to lessen the bite.

Jack's jaw grew tight as he watched the pretty blonde approach Adairford at her preternatural speed. This wasn’t his typical reaction to the girl’s presence. From their very first encounter, he’d liked the sassy, curious little thing. These days, however, her presence rarely failed to annoy him. Because Chloe Eirikrson was alone.

Again.

One year ago, almost to the day, he’d felt Chloe's inner strength at first glance and been curious about her—wanting to see her limits. Another newbie, Gwen Kanye, had invited herself to one of the huntsmen races after Jack asked Chloe to join in.

He could tell the witch wielded a serious amount of magic. Jack bristled the moment she approached, recognizing her as a threat. A predator at the core, Jack wasn’t threatened by most mortal sups, but Gwen had been different. Stronger. For all that, he'd felt oddly protective of her. He hadn't wanted her to race alongside his men. His friends and subordinates were tough fuckers, not beyond tripping each other to get to the finish line first. Despite his reticence, he’d let her do as she pleased. Who was he to dictate what a woman could or should do? For almost a year, Gwen’s gorgeous ass had run with them. She hadn’t done half bad, either. She never won, but it was rare for her not to end up in the first five at the finishing line—and his men were fast.

Jack had grown to admire her quiet yet self-assured strength. She wasn’t one to commandeer attention, or babble away during large gatherings, but when it came down to action, she could kick ass, and she had her friends’ backs. Not only had Jack become used to her presence in the background, he’d also begun looking forward to it.

Since November, she’d done her very best to avoid him. She didn’t race with them, she rarely made it to the Snuggy Snot—although she could chug back beer as well as any huntsman—and whenever he entered a room, she quickly found an excuse to leave.

Something had happened between them, changing their dynamic, and damn if it didn't piss him off. Especially since heknewhe was responsible for it. If he had no clue about thewhat, Jack knewwhentheir friendly rapport took a nosedive.

He’d lost control of his body during the fight against the invaders who'd wanted to take Oldcrest on Halloween. It wasn't the first or the last time that happened to him. Whenever he faced a considerable danger, the darker part of his mind took over, and he never remembered a thing when he finally came to.

His blackouts were a serious concern. What if he hurt someone, and couldn't even stop himself? Or remember it, for that matter. What if he turned on his friends, his family?

The only reason why he wasn't locked up in a cell for everyone's protection was because his alter ego had only acted in self-defense. So far. The witnesses made that clear each time he had a chance to ask.

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