Page 33 of Blood of a Huntsman

Bash headedout to the Institute’s courtyard, feeling awkward as shit. All eyes followed him as he walked toward Anika Beaufort, who was training Tris, Jack, Bat, Zavier, Easton, and Chris, students in the most advanced sparring class, which he'd once been a part of.

Bash inhaled deeply. Almost everyone in the courtyard smelled like fucking food. His friends were marginally better, but that wasn't saying much.

What the hell was he doing here?

But he knew. He hated it, but Cat's words from two weeks ago had stayed with him, bothering him enough that he was willing to try her way. If only to prove she was wrong. That the problem was more complicated than him simply not being used to the smell of human beings. Steven had told him they were monsters. The kid had lived with the curse for years, so he would know.

He needed a distraction. And suddenly he knew just what would do the trick.

A pair of lips on his. So fucking soft. A slender body under his palm. Slim, muscular legs around him. Shit, Catherine had felt so good.

His fists unclenched at his side and he took a calming breath, then crossed the yard. Thirst was now replaced by something else. Lust. But also annoyance.

She’d barely spared him a glance or said a word since that kiss. They patrolled in silence and went their separate ways at six every morning. And he hated it.

"Hey. You mind if I join?" he asked.

At least Anika was strong enough to stop him if he went off the rails. So was Jack, and maybe even Tris.

"While you haven’t thought it necessary to grace us with your presence for fifteen weeks, you're still signed up for this class, Bash," Anika replied. "So please do, unless you want to flunk."

Oh. Yeah, he hadn't bothered to drop out of any of his old lectures. He wondered how pissed the rest of his teachers were.

"Sure. Cool. Erm—"

"I'll take you, big guy," Tris said with a wink, stepping away from her cousin. "Let's see if sprouting fangs has improved your footing."

He was grateful. Out of everyone except Anika and Jack, Tris was the least appetizing person here, and she could certainly take care of herself.

Though she hadn't turned yet, she was a born vampire. She'd always been faster than him, and stronger than most.

"All right. Today we're working with hands bound. You're expected to overthrow your opponent in three minutes or less. When you're in the role of the kidnapper, you are to imitate the fighting style of a sup—werewolf, witch, vamp, that's up to you. No huntsman techniques. We're practicing so that you know how to escape a sup holding you captive. Understood?"

Piece of cake, with his increased speed.

"To make the game fair, Jack, Tris, you have one minute. And Bash? You have fifteen seconds."

Shit.

Well, it was his fault for expecting Anika's class to be easy.

They took turns binding each other's wrists. Anika gave them iron bonds, while the other huntsmen worked with rope. Tris won, but it took her five minutes at first. Bash did manage to get her on her ass after a full minute. They kept alternating until they were both considerably better at moving despite the restraints. By the time Anika called the end of class, he'd improved to nineteen seconds, and Tris was at two and a half minutes.

"Not bad, sucker," she told him with a huge grin.

Then she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed hard. A little too hard for it to feel casual.

"I'm proud of you for being here," Tris said, before letting go.

Bash's throat tightened.

He wasn't proud as much as stunned and a little annoyed.

Two hours of sweating in the courtyard like the old days, and already he felt a difference. Smelled a difference.

Oh, they still smelled delicious beyond belief. But while he'd been concentrating on sparring, he'd somehow become a little more immune to the scent. He didn't think he was likely to jump on anyone right now. Unless they opened their wrist in front of him and start bleeding out.

He headed to his next class with Tris, wondering how pissed Professor Crane was going to be. The man took his leadership class seriously. A bear shifter businessman running a successful business in finance, he traveled to Oldcrest twice a week to teach, and he had little patience with slackers.

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