CHAPTER SEVEN

Quincy's mouth hangs wide open, and a bit of milk and chewed-up cereal drips out. She stares dazed at me from across the breakfast table. "He did what!" She yells with her hands fisted at her sides. Faces glance in our direction, and a few onlookers stop to take in the show. I scratch my head and laugh, "That was hilarious, Quincy!" I say louder to divert suspicion. Everyone seems to take the bait as the resounding whispers of conversations around us renew. "Shh," I warn her.

"Sorry," she says, guilt written on her face. I sigh, "I've told you a hundred times I don't think he meant anything by it. I'm probably just overreacting," I whisper, in an attempt to convince her or maybe myself. Quincy scoffs as she reaches for her bowl of Lucky Charms, "Gemma, a man does not simply stand behind his students and touch them. He was putting the moves on you. It's the oldest trick in the book. In the book of how to be a pervert. When he was behind you, did you feel anything?" She whispers back.

I look down, "No, it was a bit uncomfortable, but I wouldn't say I felt any sparks." I stop and she gives me a look raising her eyebrows. I sigh, "You mean his dick, don't you?" She laughs giddily, "Of course I do. Did it poke you? How big was it?" I shake my head, "There was none of that."

She snickers, "Small in that department, who would have thought, but I guess that's standard for a sneaky bastard like him."

"I thought you liked him?" I ask. She shakes her head and leans in, "That was before he became a teacher and started acting like a horny schoolboy. I mean, he's a grown man. He should be watching porn and rubbing one out if he feels inclined, not frisking his students."

"Quincy," I groan at the thought, "I hate you for putting that in my head." She laughs, "You never hate me; you adore me." I snicker, "True." My heart races and my hands sweat at the thought of my first class with Fletcher, "Seriously though, he's our teacher now. He can't have feelings for me; he would get in so much trouble."

She nods, "Oh, I know, and so does he, but I don't think that's stopping him. I'm not too fond of some older guy coming in here and trying to sweep you off your feet, even if it is Fletcher. You deserve a beautiful, emotion-filled love story, not some creepy wham-bam; thank you, ma'am, Tuesday night romp from him," she grunts. I laugh, "Thanks, Quincy, but that was too much imagery for me. However, I do get your point. I deserve a good love story."

She nods, "Good. Word of advice to get through our last school year, don't sleep with teachers."

In surrender, I hold my hands up, "I know, I won't. Not when just the idea of it is unsettling." She hums, "Good, glad we've got that sorted. Besides, if you are interested in any wham bams, you could do way better." If anyone can give me a confidence boost, it's Quincy. Even though I'm a hunter, I'm still a woman that dreams about happily ever after. I've always kept that dream to myself, but Quincy seems to know without me having to tell her. I guess that's what best friends are for.

My gaze shifts around the cafeteria, taking in all the smiling faces and cute couples. A few tables over, I notice two hunters that sit closely together. I recognize them from class. Duke whispers into Paul's ear. They smile at each other; they're one of the College's cutest couples. I wish we could all have that and find one person who will always be there. At least be there for as long as they can. But, unfortunately, nothing is certain in our line of work.

As I look over at Quincy, I catch her staring at Dmitri's table. He is alone, eating breakfast. He pays no one any attention, as he focuses his attention on his computer. As if sensing our eyes on him, he looks in our direction. He and Quincy make eye contact. She clears her throat, and stands up, "Come on, let's get to class. I want to get a good spot on the butt beams." Wordlessly, I follow with one more glance back at the couple only a few tables away. Will I ever have that?

Quincy and I sit high up on the bleachers. "Welcome everyone to your first day of class. I like to keep it casual, so you can call me Fletcher. If anyone has any questions about what I'm teaching, don't hesitate to ask. Now I've taken on this position to prepare everyone for what it's like to hunt real monsters. Learning to hunt is not the same thing as implementing those skills. As you all know the most formidable monsters you'll face are vampires. For learning purposes, I've brought in a real vampire," he gestures over to the doors as two men dressed in protective gear roll in a cage.

The cage is silver and looks to be about ten feet by ten. In the center is a chair bolted to the floor. The creature has chains that wrap around it and connect to the floor. In addition, it has a black sack over its head, shielding the monster beneath.

Everyone begins to whisper, and some move back as they pull the cage closer to the bleachers. An enemy has entered our haven. One of the guards is tall and big-bellied with a beard and sneer etched on his face. The other is short and thin, with one hand glued to the taser at his waist.

Fletcher nods to the men to proceed. "Billy," the bigger man gestures towards the cage. Billy gulps as he hesitates. He slowly reaches his gloved hand through the cell and snags the bag, and yanks the sack from the creature's head. He jumps back from the cage and lets out a relieved sigh. Two things surprise me. The first is that this so-called creature looks remarkably human. He appears to be in his late twenties with light brown hair and brown eyes, and a metal mouthpiece over his jaw to prevent biting.

The second thing I notice is that he doesn't look aggressive or hungry. Instead, he seems scared. He is in a room full of trained teenagers, ready for the slightest hint of escape to attack. "Class, as you can see, they appear almost human to the untrained eye. But, please, take note of the pale skin, almost sickly looking. His slim form and features are almost painful to look at. If that isn't enough indication, there's always a way to determine if they truly are what they don't appear to be." Fletcher takes a switchblade out of his pants pocket. He unlatches it and crudely pricks his finger with the sharp blade. Within seconds the eyes of the creature turn bright red.

It pulls at the chains and releases a screech. It wants to get to the blood, but the bindings make it impossible. It almost looks like he's trying to hold himself back, but his urges overwhelm him. He shutters and unleashes a pain-filled scream. The big man reaches into the cell with a long taser to keep him in place. "Ahh!" The vampire screams as his eyes widen and his face reddens. "The bag Billy!" Big Man orders.

Billy hesitates, "Right, right," he moves forward at a snail's pace with the bag held in the air. "Hurry up, Billy!" Billy drops the bag on the floor as he bolts into the air. "Sorry, sorry," he springs down and retrieves it from the ground.

"Useless," Big Man yanks the sac from Billy's hands. Then, zap, he shocks the vampire with the taser. "Ahh!" The vampire hisses, a look of agony in his eyes. Big man uses the moment of pain and distraction to thrust the bag over the creature's head.

Billy looks at the floor; his head hung low. "All right, help me push this back to the dungeons," Big Man instructs Billy. Billy looks up with a look of awe. He nods his head and walks over to the opposite side of the cell to help push it back out of the back exit.

Fletcher pulls a cloth from his pocket and wipes the blood off his hands, "I would like each of you to write a paper on what you've just seen. Tell me how you would subdue a creature like him and other methods you may use to get a vampire to show their true intent."

Quincy looks away with a grim look on her face. "You all right?" I whisper, concerned.

"Fine," she mutters and plasters a smile on her face. Before I can question her further, selective groans ring out at the prospect of having to write more papers. Fletcher makes eye contact with me. It only lasts for a moment, but I feel I can't trust it for some reason. The look is nothing I have ever seen before. It speaks of desire and almost possessiveness.

He breaks contact first, "Yes, I know the agony of having to write a paper, but maybe this will sweeten the deal; you can all leave early." Everyone cheers before he adds, "Except for Savanna, Beatrice, Hudson, Paul, Dmitri, Quincy, Duke, and Gemma." Everyone shuffles out with excited murmurs.

The two men force the sack back over the vampire's face and wheel him around out of the room, "You've all probably heard rumors, but Dean Tremaine has agreed to allow me to take the eight of you off campus this weekend. It'll be dangerous, and you'll all have to listen to me explicitly. The Eye has given me an assignment that they agreed would be perfect for training.

I've selected each of you to accompany me. I understand if some of you may not feel ready, and so there's no shame in stepping down, but I would appreciate it if you did that now." As smiles break out on all our faces, we all remain silent, a real-world mission doing what will be our full-time job one day. I feel giddy enough to sing a song.

"Good, be ready Friday morning at five am; pack your best weapons," he dismisses everyone. Everyone begins to gossip, "I can't believe this, can you? We'll finally be able to prove ourselves on a real assignment," Beatrice mutters excitedly to Savanna. I follow Dmitri and Quincy out, "I've decided that you shouldn't come," Dmitri says, as he catches Quincy off guard. "What are you talking about?" She bellows.

"It's too dangerous; you're just not prepared for it," he tries to reason. "What? You and everyone else have received the same training that I have. I'm going, and don't you even try and stop me, Dmitri Fuller, or I will be very cross with you!" She points her finger at him, wagging it around in his face.

I can't help but smile at the bickering couple; Dmitri looks ready to start an argument with her. Finally, I decide to make my move and cut in between them." Quincy, why don't we go to our room and start deciding what to pack?" I grab her arm and drag her away from Dmitri; she glares at him until he's out of sight.

Quincy shakes her head as she tries to force the anger out, "Can you believe the nerve of him? We've had to wait years to get out of here. But, now that we're finally going to, he's trying to get me to stay behind, no thanks!"

"Quincy, he's just worried about you. He doesn't want you to get hurt. So it means he cares about you and wants you to stay behind, so he knows you're safe," I explain. Most of her anger fades away as she listens to my reasoning, "You think so?" She asks a moment of vulnerability appears on her face.

"I know so," I confirm. She nods, and regains her sanity, "Well, just because he supposedly likes me doesn't mean I like him back. This isn't some enemies-to-lovers trope," she argues, walking with an extra added pep in her step. "Whatever you say, Dear Quincy," I chuckle, and follow after her, taking a note from Pepere. Sometimes it's just easier to agree.