Page 19 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 11

Viola went over the plan again. She wasn't much for improvisation, apparently.

Tom let the words drown in the background. He'd heard them a dozen times just today. Besides, his attention had to be on the dainty female in front of him. Ayita blocked his pitiful attempt at punching her to the right, and twisted his arm behind his back before kicking him in the chin. He ended up on his knees, where he'd been for most of the morning and every day for the last week.

They'd insisted that he needed as much training as he could before turning. As he was, he had no hope of holding his own against basically any paranormal creatures, although he was faster than most regular humans. But according to the slayers, his muscle memory would help after he turned.

"If you've never done the right movements before your transition, learning them is going to be hard," Henry had explained. "Like a babe walking for the first time. But if you've done them, all you'll need to learn is how to control your speed and strength."

And so, he trained with everyone, every day.

Phillipe had remained behind to protect Chloe. Viola had also hired a bunch of werewolves so that there was always someone watching her around the clock. Tom didn't feel like it was quite enough, but they intended to head right back to Colorado as soon as they were done with their objective.

The rest of them headed to Europe.

Tom had gone to France with his class once, but that was it. He certainly hadn't traveled in a private jet before.

All the way, the vampires took turns kicking his ass.

"Admit it. You're enjoying this."

The woman grinned. "Maybe a little. I'm going to fluke at punching you, like you just did. I want you to imitate my move. Block and twist; take your time."

He tried not to feel insulted when she threw her fake punch in slow motion. Copying the way she'd stopped him, taking his time, he asked, "When am I going to play with swords?"

Kyo, seated in front of Viola, snorted. "When you've earned it."

He sighed. "What about muscle memory?"

"No amount of muscle memory will change the fact that you'll suck at swordplay. Dude, you hit like a girl."

It was Leah's turn to laugh. "He wishes he did."

Tom would have informed them that he was considered quitestrong by his normal crowd, but he was in no mood for further mockery, so he just kept his mouth shut and got on with his training.

"Easy on the hair-pulling, girl," Leah told Viola, handing her a flute of champagne. "You're going to end up bald by the time we get to Rome."

"This plan sucks," she stated.

Leah shrugged. "Agonizing over it won't make it suck any less. Whatever way you think about it, we're walking into the lion's den, and we're going to ask the worst of them for a favor."

Tom didn't try to think too hard about what they'd shared. That his one living ancestor was a monster so evil he had been locked in a cave for fifteen hundred years. Rather than disturb him, they were going to ask a goddess—a goddess—for her blood. Apparently, there were always hundreds of people in her marble palazzo—ancient vampires, royals, and so many others who shouldn't see him; not yet. They'd have questions, look into him, and might dig out Chloe's existence, putting her in danger. So they needed the goddess to come to them.

She might take it as an offense and kill them all without hearing a word. She might listen and decide to let Tom go crazy, for her entertainment. She might…

Tom feinted to the right, but punched left and kicked Ayita's left side. She blocked both attacks, but she gave him a genuine smile.

"You learn fast. Good. Keep going and I'll let you play with Kyo's swords."

Kyo growled. "I'd kill you in your sleep."

Ayita winked. "You'd try."

Viola had told him that the six of them rarely met, and Tom wondered why. They felt right together; like Chloe and he. A family. A clan.

He asked, "Why did you guys stay away from each other for so long? You get along."

They all exchanged glances that felt meaningful, a somber air settling in the atmosphere. He'd obviously walked right into a sensitive subject.

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