“Questions?” I asked when I’d finished.
Sophie raised a tentative hand. “What if...what if we’re not good enough? What if we can’t do it?”
“Then we’ll train you until you can.” I smiled and softened my voice. “No one expects you to be perfect on day one. That’s why you’re here—to learn. The only failure is giving up.”
Sophie nodded, looking slightly less terrified. I let my gaze scan the room, lingering for a beat on Trevor. “That said, this is a school, and you are all essentially on scholarship. This isn’t juvie. It’s not court-ordered probation. You were in the system and got noticed by a Forza recruiter. So we already know you have potential, and I think you’ll all fit in.”
I smiled before continuing. “At the same time, you’re free to walk out that door anytime. Our only requirement is that you keep what we do confidential. If you don’t...well, not all demons are unfriendly. And quite a few owe us favors.” I added a smile, so they wouldn’t know if I was joking or not. I was.
Well, mostly.
“Anyone else?”
Silence. Trevor looked like he had plenty of questions, but none he was willing to ask in front of everyone, and I made a mental note that his surliness might be a disguise for shyness.
I ended the orientation and dismissed everyone to follow Eliza and Ren to the dorms, so they could get settled before lunch. The students filed out, and I noted that when Zane fell into step beside Sophie, he asked her something about Iowa that made her smile. Hopefully, he’d be just as solid with training as he seemed to be with fitting in.
Trevor hung back, waiting until everyone else had left before slouching toward the door.
“Mr. Dawson.”
He stopped but didn’t turn around.
I stepped down from the podium and walked toward him. “First days are hard,” I said. “I get it. New place, new people, new rules. It’s a lot.”
His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t move.
“You don’t have to like it here. You don’t even have to like me. But you do have to give it a real chance.” I moved around so I could see his face. “The skills we teach aren’t just about fighting demons. They’re about survival. About protecting yourself and the people you care about.”
He dropped his gaze, shoving his hands into his pockets. I couldn’t tell if he was surly, fearful, lonely, or just scared. Didn’t matter. At the end of the day, my job was to get him out of his shell and train him to be a Hunter who could stand on his own or beside other Hunters.
“I’m not your enemy. None of us are. We’re just people who’ve seen what’s out there and want to make sure you’re ready for it.”
He met my eyes for the first time, and for a second, I saw the scared kid underneath all that attitude. Foster care, thick file, bounced around the system. Kids like that learned early that adults couldn’t be trusted, and that showing vulnerability could get you hurt.
“Yeah,” he said finally with a deep shrug. “Okay.”
He walked out, and I let him go. Building trust took time.
Eric passed him coming in. “That one’s going to need some extra attention,” he said when he reached me.
“Most of them do, one way or another.” I watched the empty doorway. “He’s got walls a mile high. But there’s a reason Forza recruited him. We just need to help him find it.”
“You’re more patient than I am.”
“I’m a mom,” I said, then grinned. “Patience is a survival skill.”
8
ALLIE
“Okay, verdict time.” Mindy flopped onto my bed and grabbed my pillow, hugging it to her chest like a lifeline. “New kid rankings. Go.”
Timmy was sprawled on the floor near my desk, crayons spread around him in a chaotic rainbow. Fran had asked if I’d watch him while she and Elena went for a playdate with one of Elena’s old preschool friends. At first, Timmy had been at loose ends without his bestie—which I totally got—but he’d finally settled down and had been quietly coloring for the past twenty minutes. I was pretty sure that was a new record for the Rugrat.
“Maybe I should call those world record people,” I said to Mindy.
“Careful. You’ll jinx us.”
