Page 23 of Blood of a Huntsman

That won’t be enough.

That’s what she should have said. Now was the time to reveal what she could do, what her entire clan could do.

But it was a family secret. She’d be betraying not only her intimidating, all-powerful aunt but also everyone else. Her little sister and her big brother. All those who relied on secrecy to defend themselves. If the world knew how the Stormhales operated, they’d be prepared for it.

However, if she said nothing, her friends could suffer. Her friends could die.

But only if her family attacked them.

Cat’s heart ached. Her brain throbbed. Her throat tightened.

Say it. Keep your mouth shut.

Her mind couldn’t settle on an answer. There was no right one.

“Hang on," said a huntsman Cat didn't recognize. "You reworked wards made thousands of years ago? Just like that."

She was grateful for the interruption to her messy train of thoughts. Also, the huntsman made a good point. How the hell had they achieved that feat?

Levi's expression changed, and before he said a word, Cat knew he was done sharing sensitive information.

“Anything is possible with the right tool.”

Could his reply have been any vaguer?

“The point is, they can't get in anymore, and they've worked that out. So, they're throwing what they can at us to see what sticks, so to speak. This is the start. They wanted to see if the manticore could pass through once a student opened the gate.”

The theory made sense: the creature had hunted its victims down so very close to the border, and the girls had, of course, tried to get back in.

Cruel and insensitive as the feeling was, Cat was glad they hadn't made it across. Because if the manticore had managed to get in, they might have had to bury a hell of a lot more than two bodies.

"Would it have worked?" Chloe asked.

Greer, sitting next to Alexius, nodded. "If it was touching the girl as she passed through, more than likely. But tricks like that can only get one creature in at a time. It's not a viable option if they want to flood our gates with an army again."

"Still, we won't let them pick off our students," Anika stated.

There was a unanimous nod of assent, Cat included. Confused and conflicted as she was, one thing was certain: she didn't want to see other girls torn the same way.

"I propose we reinstate a sentinel patrol, day and night,” Levi said. “I will not hire outsiders, not in the current climate. That means that each of you—each of us—will need to do our part. For that reason, let's put it to a vote."

By this point, Cat shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. A patrol made sense. Everything they'd said led to that conclusion. Except Levi could have just told them what they were going to do. Ordered them. Not Alexius or Anika, perhaps, and not the huntsmen, either. But twenty-nine vampires were gathered in the room, nine of whom were his employees.He was their lord by every law their race obeyed.

And instead of commanding them, he made them vote.

So that was what freedom tasted like.

No voice spoke against the arrangement, and Cat signed up for the first shift of the day—or the last one of the night, depending on how one looked at it. Half past midnight to six. Most of her lessons ran from afternoon to late evening, and, in any case, she'd never needed much sleep.

Only when she'd written her name down did she notice the first person who'd scribbled his name on that timeline.

Bash.

She looked up, frowning.

Something about him annoyed her. Not because he was a turned vampire—though to the Stormhales, that was a sin in itself. They believed that only the born vamps were worthy of note.Cat had always found that position rather stupid and outdated. There were stronger and weaker vamps in every founding family, the Stormhales included, and the turned were the same. At the end of the day, the blood in their veins might be a different color, but that was the end of their differences.

It wasn't even because he was—had been—a huntsman. His kind had killed hundreds of Stormhales, some without much of a motive.

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