The Pain Leads
Caspian
“Did you know about this?” Fritz accuses me.
Begrudgingly, I admit, “I had my suspicions,” before turning to our giant newcomer, “How can you tell?”
“Simple. I couldn’t sense her standing there,” Eamon replies without taking his eyes off her, “Now I’ll ask again. Why is there a hunter in your home?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you talking about? I’m not ahunter. I’m here trying to find my friend. The same friend that these assholes,” she gestures to us,” got kidnapped.”
“Whether you have chosen to step into the role or not, it’s in your blood. What’s your last name?” Eamon presses.
“None of your fucking business, asshole,” she scoffs.
The way his eyes grow larger reminds me much of how one might raise their brows, genuine surprise filling his demonic face.
After he lets the silence make everyone uncomfortable for a moment, he asks the question again; this time, his tone leaves no question about what will happen if she fails to answer.
“Parker,” she grits out, appearing ready to commit several crimes against the massive monstrosity before her.
Right.“I suspect I may have killed a relative of yours a few weeks back,” I confess. “That’s what originally led me to believe you weren’t exactly who you claimed to be.”
“Huh,” she shrugs. “Well, Iamexactly who Iclaimed to be. I do not speak with my family, as you now know. I’ve always known they were religious nut jobs, but I didn’t know about any of this.”
“Though you don’t seem too surprised by it,” I prod.
She runs a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face in frustration, “My grandpa was always going on about some fucking family business I’ll need to step into. Always rambling about my place in the fight for heaven. But he was senile! None of what he said was real.”
“Clearly, it was,” Eamon laughs.
Isla grits her teeth, readying her next volley of insults for him, but she’s interrupted before she can spew the well-earned vitriol his way.
“Who fucking cares about any of that when Bel is in danger?” Fritz holds a palm up to stop their bickering, not that any of us needed the reminder of why we’re here.
Eamon tears his eyes off of Isla finally, asking me, “What else did you learn from the hunters you got?”
I shrug, admitting I killed them before I could learn much of anything. All I gathered from them was the compass and— “Oh. They did mention that the lower level initiates aren’t allowed to know the location of their compound. They were little more than children.”
“But you gutted them anyway?” Eamon asks, full of derision.
I justify, “They shot me first,” while I notice Fritz beginning to pace again, “We can argue about my violent tendencies later, now we must focus on finding Belissenda.”
“Wait,” Isla holds up a hand to stop anyone from talking, “You said they don’t know where the compound is? But they found you as soon as you dropped into the city?” I nod, so she continues, “Then at least we know the closest compound is within the city limits, right? They would need back up to be really close if they needed it.”
I nod again, finally gaining traction on a general idea of where she could be, “They did say it only took them 20 minutes from their headquarters to find themselves near my location. They had been dropped off right around the corner.”
Isla runs over to the kitchen, opening and closing drawers seemingly at random, searching for something. When she finds what she’s searching for, she brings it over and sets the city map on the coffee table, throwing a pen on top of it, “Mark on that map where they found you.”
“Who the fuck just has a city map lying around?” Fritz asks.
“Bel does,” Isla tells him, adding, “Butmaybeonly because I gave it to her. Being aware of your surroundings is important, Fritz.” She points a finger at him for emphasis.
From the corner of my eye, Eamon nudges Fritz with his elbow, whispering, “See? Hunter instincts,” and Fritz’s eyes light up with understanding.
“That’s why she’s so fucking smart and shit. And why I couldn’t tell when she was here,” Fritz nods, “Iknewthere was something off about her, but I just couldn’t figure out what.”
Isla ignores them, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand. She watches as I find the street where I stuffed those men in a dumpster and mark it with the pen she handed me, right off the corner of 7th Avenue and Matteo.
