Page 31 of Huntress

“Who is going to captain their new squads? Are you willing to hand over Trenton? Will you personally oversee their extra training?” Roz snorted. Elsie wasn’t the nurturing type, and she had zero intention of taking on a mentee. “We have already escalated their training schedules. Not everyone is as ready to jump into the field the day after graduation as you were. They need time to develop their strengths.”

“Why allow them to graduate if they aren’t ready?” Elsie scoffed.

“Why don’t you mind your own business and leave the education of our newest hunters to the educators? They managed to make you into what you are, and I’m pretty sure you see yourself as a success of our program. They know what they’re doing,” Roz said dryly.

Elsie did not see herself as a success of their program. Her best and hardest training had happened under Albright. Her mentor had drilled her day and night, correcting things she’d learned in classes and honing her skills until correct movement and lightning-fast reaction time were ingrained in her muscle memory. But Roz was already at the edge of her patience. If she was going to continue picking a fight, she’d have to be more selective with the subject.

“If your explanation doesn’t become unclassified real soon, you’re going to have a work strike on your hands. People won’t put up with this for much longer. Even if you concoct some half-assed story to tell everyone, it’s not going to buy you much time,” Elsie warned.

“We know,” Roz sighed. “I swear, you youngsters think you know everything. Unfortunately, it’s out of my hands. I wanted to make it public knowledge weeks ago. We are well aware that we’re treading on dangerous ground.”

“Then I’d suggest prioritizing days off for squads, even if it’s a single day of rest between missions. Consideration goes a long way, Roz, and right now everyone’s feeling underappreciated and more than a little pissed off.” She stood. “What happened in Colony Nine is a tragedy, but it’s ridiculous to expect us to pick up the slack created by human stupidity and inadequate leadership.”

“You’re right,” Roz admitted.

“Come on, Mutt,” Elsie called, ignoring his answering growl. She turned and walked out the door, mindful not to slam it out of anger. She’d be called back and punished for the display of emotion. The hound was silent, not even offering a dirty look. His emotions were quiet, as if he’d blocked them off from her. Good. It had taken him long enough.

She took the most direct route to the mess hall, irritated that she wouldn’t have enough time for lunch. At least there would be food on the tram, and they’d be able to take turns sleeping, though it was never the kind of sleep that had anyone feeling well rested after. It would take a day and a half to reach Colony Ten.

Marley and Trenton sat at a table together, but Perrie and Morgan hadn’t yet arrived. Elsie spotted Banks’ bald head, and next to him was Trisse. Scanning the crowd, she found Grady, a mountain of a man, and their geographer. Five out of eight in one place was uncommon good luck.

Elsie hopped onto a table, giving a short, sharp whistle, and the noise in the hall hushed as people looked around to find the source.

“Second squad,” she called out of habit. “I need the full team on the tram by thirteen-hundred. Find the others, let them know.”

Marley slumped over in disappointment, and Trenton patted her shoulder. Trisse glowered at her, but he’d be there. She hopped down, and the hound followed her out, back to their room. Elsie gripped her hair and tugged as they walked down the hallways. She’d wanted to take her time introducing her squad to the demon. Now she’d be throwing everyone into a small, underground metal tube with a creature they hated for thirty-six hours. She’d mitigate where she could, but hoping for the best and ducking for cover wasn’t off the table.

She made a detour, and they stopped at the supply office one more time. As usual, Marko had gotten news of their assignment before her, and stayed open until she arrived. She grabbed two more uniforms for the hound in the correct size, and a set of pajamas.

“I’ll return the uniforms that don’t fit when we get back,” she told him, not bothering to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

“Come back safe, Chantraine,” he said solemnly as she walked away.

“Sorry, I won’t be able to make comfortable clothes for you yet,” Elsie sighed when they got back to their room. She took everything out of her go-bag and evaluated what she needed. Quickly replacing her clothes, she tossed a new tube of toothpaste in and then shoved everything else back inside. She’d stop by the cafeteria on their way out to stock up on MREs.

The hound sat on his cot, watching as she packed his go bag, showing him every item as she slipped it inside. Clothes, pajamas, toiletries, first-aid items, and the like. He didn’t have any weapons, and as far as she was concerned, it would stay that way. He wouldn’t be fighting, anyway.

“It would be a lot easier for everyone if you’d shift back. Several members of my team are not going to be as comfortable meeting you as Perrie and Morgan were,” she warned. He sniffed at her, but shifted as she asked.

“What does it matter if they’re comfortable?” he asked, and Elsie hid a smirk. His curls had gotten messed up when he shifted. They were wilder than before, giving the illusion of approachability.

“Well, if they’re afraid of you, or don’t trust you, it could lead to an ‘accident’ out in the field,” she told him honestly.

He snorted at her. “I’m not as fragile as you seem to think.”

“Yes, you are. You’re still weak from our fight, and your time with Clairemont. Right now, any fully armed member of my team is capable of taking you out. I’d suggest you start working on putting a pleasant expression on that pretty face,” she taunted, making him scowl. She knew it was childish, but she was enjoying how easy it was to irritate him.

“Are you sure you’re capable of taking down a pack of rats?” he questioned with an exaggeratedly innocent tone as he looked her up and down. “They’ll eat someone as small as you in minutes.”

“I’m not worried,” she lied. A rat demon on its own was manageable, but a pack sometimes had numbers in the hundreds.

She wondered if he felt her dishonesty. She badly wanted to ask somebody about how to make it stop. Perrie would know; the witch was a pretty reliable source of information on a lot of things Elsie had questions about. But it felt like a personal failing that she couldn’t keep the demon out of her head, and she was worried that this question was too taboo for sharing.

“I’m sure,” he said sarcastically, flashing a dimple she hadn’t noticed before. Elsie ignored that and rolled up her sleeping bag before attaching it to the top of her go-bag.

“Do the same with yours,” she instructed. “You’re going to want it if we end up sleeping in the field.”

“No need to bring extra crap. I’ll shift and sleep on the ground.”