Toy Wolf

Chapter 25: upper hand

Grant avoided me for the next week. I sparred with the other hunters and with Stefa, but anytime I approached Grant, he would quickly busy himself or walk from the room. Stefa seemed unfazed by the abrupt change and had convinced several of the hunters to befriend her in his absence.

I was curious if she was persuading them to like her or if she was really being friendly, but I supposed it didn't truly matter. People were, for some reason, more scared of me that they were of her and I rarely entered conversations without Stefa.

Now that I knew about Grant, I wondered how I hadn't guessed it earlier. He was very pale, not white like Stefa, but much paler than anyone else in the room. He was faster than all of them, which the other hunters grudgingly attributed to his growing up as a hunter. His eyes would sometimes dart towards me when he thought I wasn't looking and he'd shudder before continuing. I wanted to tell him I understood, that I didn't want this odd power over him.

But I knew that I wanted to use it. I wanted Grant to tell me if we were being tracked. I wanted him to help us escape. With every phone call I grew more and more homesick and my need to be with my pack marred my ability to pretend I wanted to be here. It didn't seem that anyone actually wanted me here; Grant had been the one to vouch for me and now he wouldn't acknowledge me. Stefa had proven more useful to them with her endless knowledge of vampires and werewolves.

Our schedule became normal; wake up in Stefa's room, head down to my own to shower and change, eat, spar or listen to lectures until lunch. The hunters were different from day to day, as they left for assignments and others arrived for training or medical attention. August left for St. Louis. Jackie had broken his leg and arrived the next day for bed rest. I sat with him while we watched others fight.

"You seem particularly pensive today," Jackie noted.

"I don't know that that means," I replied.

"It was a roundabout way of asking what you are thinking about," he explained. "You look worried. Which is fair; you're in a room full of hunters. But I don't know if I've ever encountered a worried werewolf."

"Grant seems upset at me," I told him, unsure how to explain what I couldn't talk about.

"Eh, it's Grant. He gets into moods. Ever since he's been grounded here, he's been restless." Jackie glared down at his leg. "I can't say that I blame him. This leg is going to be the death of me. I'm so bored."

"What happened?" I asked.

"A vamp threw me into a beam, and the beam won," he said. "My leg snapped in two. Andrew and Becca said they thought the beam had snapped with how loud it was. I always forget how strong vamps are. I mean, look at Stefa. Does she look strong enough to be the clan leader of the whole Midwest?"

I supposed at first glance Stefa looked just a couple years older than I. She had no more muscle mass than a human her age and now that she had coerced someone to bring her purple hair dye, she seemed oddly innocent and carefree.

"I didn't know that," I said carefully, knowing that Stefa didn't like people talking about her past.

Jackie scoffed. "Aren't you sleeping with her? How do you not know?"

"Stefa doesn't like talking about her clan," I said. "I don't want to pry. We all have a past."

"Some of us more sordid than others," he chuckled. "She's not the oldest or mostly violent vampire on the continent. But she definitely has her own reputation though. You're building one for yourself, Conor."

"I haven't done anything," I protested.

"Precisely."

The clock chimed and everyone began packing up, ready to head to lunch. I noted that Grant fled the room through a side door, hoping to escape me. This time, I hurried after him, not wishing to prolong this awkward tension between us.

"Grant, wait."

The words came out of my mouth without thinking and when he stopped moving in the middle of the hall, I knew that this was the wrong way to approach him.

"I'm sorry," I said once I caught up to him. "You've been avoiding me."

"You think?" he hissed. "What if someone else saw you do this? No one can find out."

"I haven't said anything to anyone," I promised. "But I don't think pretending I don't exist is going to work either. People are bound to notice. You brought Stefa and me here, and now we don't do anything. Two weeks ago I was living in a prison, but at least there I knew what was going on. It's uncomfortable. You should let us go or send us back."

Grant snorted. "As if anyone would let Stefa return to the world outside. We'd all be dead in a matter of weeks. No, days."

"No one seems afraid of her here," I said, almost like a question.

"It's uncovered wilderness for a day's ride in any direction. She'd die out in the sun which she knows as well as we do. As for you, your blood keeps me human. We can't work together in any other capacity because of," he gestured at his frozen feet; "this. So you two will stay here."

"Are we being tracked?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Don't, Conor. Don't push this."

"Push what?" I demanded. "You cannot do anything worse to me. What makes you better than Stefa or I, Grant?"

"I'm not a murderer," he shot back. "Your beloved Stefa has killed more humans, werewolves and vampires than anyone in this house. It was only because she was betrayed by her own clan that we caught her. Don't be fooled by her charisma and feigned innocence. She's a monster."

"I was in a metal collar that shocked me any time I tried to speak," I snarled. "I have been forced to run, fight and obey the whim of humans all in the name of science or justice. How dare you call us the monsters. I will go home. You can't hold us here forever. Don't try to stop me."

I realized I snapped out the order too late. Grant gaped at me and then managed to break free, swinging a fist towards me. I dodged; the punch glanced my shoulder. I swung my own fist toward his jaw, but he blocked it with a move. I grunted when his fist hit my ribs, but I managed to block his next punch and shove him up against the wall. Grant's hazel eyes darted around, hoping someone was in the hallway. He would have been better to take the main exit if he had not wanted to deal with me.

"Don't mention this to anyone," I growled in his ear, dropping him to the ground and stalking off down the hall.

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The claws come out! Conor is not nearly as meek as Grant wishes, but a great many choices have led them here. If you like the story so far, let me know! I read all your comments and love hearing your thoughts. Thanks for reading!