“I—well, maybe?”
“Hmmph.”
“It’s just that you two have gotten so close.”
He pats the arms of his recliner. “Which is why I’m staying here.”
“Whatever,” Allie said, then crossed her arms and stared down Mindy. “What about you? Are you staying in your house, too?”
Mindy turned to Laura. “I’m not, am I? I want to live at the school.”
“I know. But I’m going to stay in the house. Well,weare.” She smiled at Cutter, who winked as Mindy squealed with delight. “But we’ll both be at the school during working hours.”
“Except when I’m at the studio,” Cutter said. “I’m keeping a few limited classes, including yours,” he added nodding to me as he referenced the women’s self-defense class I was teaching.
“Well, good,” I said, happy for the two of them. And a little envious at their relatively normal love life. “I’m glad you’re keeping the house. That means it will be even easier to bring Timmy back to see his friends.”
I sighed , letting these new arrangements settle in my bones. It was all happening so fast … but even so, I couldn’t help but think that the whirlwind was moving in the right direction.
“Can Mindy and I stop going to Coronado now?” Allie asked. “We want to get settled at the school before the others kids get here. And Daddy quit a week ago.”
“No more Coronado,” I agreed, knowing that if I said otherwise, I’d have a battle on my hands. Besides, I really could use both their help.
Technically, the school doesn’t open until the winter semester, but Father Corletti suggested we start midway through this semester with a smaller batch of kids. That way, we could get our feet wet without wrangling three dozen students, which is the school’s maximum capacity. Although if I have anything to say about it, we’ll limit the first full class to eighteen. Considering I’d never wrangled more than two at a time—three if you count Mindy—I’m all about wading in.
Since that had seemed like a good idea, Father Corletti put the wheels in motion, and we have five students arriving in ten days.
I glanced around at everybody in the room. “So, have we covered everything? I guess we just need to talk to Father Corletti and find out if there’s a nurse or someone who can move in early to monitor Stuart.”
When the school opens, we’ll have medical staff for the kids—as well as a kitchen staff for meals. Housekeeping and maintenance are already on site, thank goodness. And all areForzaapproved, know what we’re doing, and have been trained in the basics of demon identification.
“I’ll call,” Eric said, but I shook my head.
“No, that’s my job. And the nurse is for my husband. I should do it.” I moved across the room to where I left my cell phone. As I closed my hand around it, it rang, and I actually jumped. Some kind of Hunter, right?
As I silently cursed myself, I glanced at the screen, then smiled with delight when I saw the caller—Father Corletti.
“Father,” I said, answering on speaker. “I’m so glad to hear from you.” The Vatican-based head ofForza Scurahad practically raised me after I was found wandering the streets of Rome when I was only four. He’s like a father to me, and I mean that in all the meanings of the word.
“Ah,mia cara, I am so sorry that I must take away some of that joy. There has been an attack. Two of your new students are dead.”
3
Ididn’t realize that Eric had moved to my side until I felt his arms around me, holding me steady despite my knees that had gone weak.
I met his eyes, his face looking as sad and broken as I felt.
I took a moment to make sure my voice was steady, then said, “Tell us exactly what happened.”
“As you know, we had identified over thirty possible students from all over the globe. For this initial half-semester, we selected five from the United States to make travel and acclimation easier.
“A few days ago, they convened in Nashville withForzarepresentatives for a more complete briefing about the school than they may have received when originally scouted. Each was offered a chance to decline, of course.”
“After getting more of an idea of what was in store for them,” I said. This process was all new to me. As an orphan, I’d been thrust intoForzaat the age of four, training with other lost children. I didn’t realize until very late thatForzahad an actual recruitment process whereby it actively sought out talent.
“Marcus ran that meeting, right? Is he okay?”
The son of one of my trainers atForza,Marcus Giatti grew up to be a talented fighter—and trainer—himself.
