CHAPTER SIX

I get up early the next day and Pepere drops me off at Infiniteye before six. I want to get some free gym time in. "Gemma, remember what we taught you, someone hurts you, you make them bleed." He looks at me seriously. "I'll remember, but she won't get a second chance to hurt me." He grins and makes holds it up, "That's my girl, go get 'em." I give him a backward wave as I take the steps two at a time. I do my best not to wake any asleep students as I make my way to my room. Quietly I unlock the door, I expect Quincy to be asleep.

I do not anticipate Dmitri Fuller to be in Quincy's bed without a shirt. He holds up a dagger as if to throw it at me. I try to avoid his pale shirtless, toned chest. I've seen shirtless men before, but never in a situation like this. Mostly when we train. Surprised, he looks up at me; Quincy's is on his body like it's a pillow. A blanket covers most of her, except for bare shoulders as they peek out from under it. Dmitri nods towards the door and makes the sign for me to quiet. He puts the weapon down. Wholly balls. I knew their relationship was in progress, but I didn't think this much.

I carefully backtrack, and I slip outside. I close the door gently, so as not to wake her up. For a rich kid, he's pretty fast with his weapon and quick on his feet. He follows me out into the hallway and shuts the door behind him. "You saw nothing, heard nothing, and will not mention this to her. She won't like that someone saw us together," Dmitri looks at me almost threateningly.

I cross my arms my a grin, "Don't worry, I'll wait for her to mention it." He nods, about to walk away, but I stop him with a hand on his arm, "I know who your family is, Dmitri. Just don't hurt her, okay."

"I'd never hurt her, never Quincy." His face tells me I can trust him. You better not. "Good because if you ever go back on that, Quincy's bag of dicks would have another for her collection." He looks at me, confused. I grin and leave him in the hallway as I sneak back into my room. Oh, boy, does Dmitri have it bad for her? I almost let envy hit me but brush it away like the unwanted thought it is. I set my bag down on the floor, change into my workout gear, and head for the gym.

I set up three dummies around the room and grab my stake. My movements are fast and each force ends with a stake in one of their hearts. Vampires are fast, so the hunter needs to predict where the vampire will be. The ones we don't kill are used to get information, to find the more significant threat. That's rare, though, and always on special orders from The Eye.

"I wouldn't want to be the guy you're picturing," a voice draws my attention away from practice. Oh no, please don't be who I think you are. My eyes narrow on Fletcher, "I don't need to picture a man to inflict damage. I just need to have good aim." I do my best to ignore his presence as I resume my attack on the dummies.

He walks around me and takes a seat on the bleachers. He watches me with interest. I feel a bout of self-consciousness spread across my body. My cheeks and ears burn. They must be red, and if the warmth I feel is any indication. They're bright. It sends a wave of annoyance through me, "Are you just going to watch me all day?" I ask.

"Would you prefer that I join you? I mean if you don't mind all of this." He stands up and runs his hand over his facial scars. "Things like that don't bother me, but I would like some tips if you have them, Professor, " I don't know where this sudden flash of courage is from, but I hope it doesn't leave too soon.

He approaches me, "May I?" He asks for permission to touch me, and I nod.

He moves behind me and gently takes my arm. He pushes my arm toward one of the dummy's hearts, repeating the action a few more times, "Just like that, it's easier to get the stake to reach the heart at this angle," his breath grazes the back of my neck.

He's so close to me that I feel his muscled abdomen against my back; too close for comfort. My heart beats faster at our proximity to each other. We shift face to face; he moves his head closer to mine, and his scent assaults my nose. He smells like expensive cologne. Only I wouldn't say I'm a fan of artificial fragrances. I slip out of his grip and put a few feet between us. I repeat the move a few more times on my own, as I try to shake the feeling of him away. It seems to slither up my spine like an annoying itch that I can't seem to shake.

His presence puts me on edge. "Good, just like that." He encourages me as he watches my performance. Something tells me that he isn't paying attention to that. I somehow feel his eyes roaming my form. I clear my throat and put my stake back into my bag. "Thanks for the lesson, Professor," I mutter and rub the back of my neck. I need to get as far away from him as I can. "Anytime," the feeling of his eyes on me follows until I'm out of sight.