Page 42 of The Devil's Trials

And that was allbeforeI got involved with Xander.

Noah drones on about the importance of always being aware of your surroundings, and I look away from him as he moves on to talk about stretching after a training session.

It’s a repeat of what he told me during our first private session, and the importance of the reminder isn’t lost on me.

I finally get the nerve to glance around at the other class members while their attention is glued to Noah. There’s a good mix of guys and girls, and a lot of them appear younger than me, which makes sense considering this is basic hunter training. There are close to two dozen trainees, and they’re listening so intensely to Noah, I have to press my lips together to keep from snickering. He must love this gig. All of these people looking at him with such awe and respect. It’s a buffet for his ego.

Noah crosses the room and grabs a black bin off a shelf I hadn’t noticed before, carrying it back to the center of the room and dropping it with a loud thud. The obsidian daggers inside have the class shifting, either nervously or excitedly, on their feet.

“Everybody take a dagger,” Noah says in a level voice.

“Are we going to learn how to fight with one today?” one girl asks.

Noah laughs. “You’re lucky I’m letting you touch it today. So no. But I do want you to know how it feels. The weight of it in your palm.”

Once each person has a dagger in their grip, I step forward. Noah plucks one out of the box and holds it out to me, hilt first. “Just like riding a bike,” he says under his breath so only I can hear.

My lips twitch as I take the dagger. “Right.” I step back and wait for further instruction with the rest of the trainees. I catch one of their gazes and am rewarded with a spectacularly dirty look before I glance away from the girl. Evidently my concern about ruffling feathers by being here wasn’t entirely unwarranted.Super.

I try to distract myself by passing the dagger from hand to hand before holding it in my dominant one, curling my fingers around the hilt. The metal is cool against my skin, and I frown at how normal such a lethal thing can feel in my grip.

It isn’t unbelievably heavy, which makes the weapons easier to transport and secure to different limbs. Most hunters are inclined to strap them to the outside of their thigh just above the knee where they can easily grab it out of its sheath. I’ve also seen some hide others at their ankles or waist or between their breasts.

I don’t want to be the type of person who has a dagger strapped to every inch of me. One has to be sufficient—two max.

Noah gives the class a few minutes to converse over the wonder that he just bestowed upon them before he kicks the box and says, “Good. Now put them back.”

“What was the point of that?” a guy to Noah’s left grumbles, dropping his dagger back into the bin.

“I want you to be familiar and comfortable with them when you’re prepared to wield them.”

“When are we going to be ready?” someone else asks.

Fuck, these trainees are eager.

Whereas the idea of actually having to use the dagger in my grip threatens to shoot anxiety through my veins like wildfire. It brings me back to the night Xander and I were attacked. I had no choice but to use his dagger and kill that demon. Even now that I know it was a twisted way for Xander to steal my trust, I still hate thinking about the fact that I took a life.

That demon would’ve done the same to you.

I swallow hard, willing the memory to fade as I return the dagger to the box.

Noah spends the next hour going through several techniques to block attacks, walking through each step and picking a different person to use as an example. Most are thrilled to jump into practice, while I stand off to the side, paying close attention to the movements and how each person who goes up against Noah doesn’t stand a chance. When his eyes shift to me and the corner of his mouth kicks up, my stomach dips.

No. Please—

“You’re up, Cam.”

“Uh, I’m more of an observational learner.”

His brows lift. “That wasn’t a suggestion. Get over here. Unless, of course, you’d like to continue wasting our time.”

My eyes narrow as heat fills my cheeks, and I bite my tongue to keep from cursing him out as I trudge forward, feeling too many sets of eyes on me.

“Ready?” he asks, any trace of amusement gone from his expression.

“Sure,” I deadpan.

Between one breath and the next, Noah moves swiftly, putting himself behind me as he locks an arm around my neck and the other around my waist, effectively immobilizing me. I’m trapped against his chest, and he drops his chin to the top of my head.

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