Zoey Rogue

chapter Three: Zoey Troubled



“Zoey! Where were you last night?”

Zoey closed her locker enough to see the approach of her best friend, Vikki. Vikki’s arms and upper body were covered in colorful tattoos, one for every ten Cambions she killed over the past four years. A particularly brutal sparring match left Zoey’s headache worse than when she woke this morning. She had no patience for anything Sucubatti-related.

“I don’t know what happened last night,” Zoey said. Not for the first time today, she puzzled over the missing memory. “I woke up this morning on the Professor’s porch swing. He told me I drank too much again, and I just went with it. Thank god he called Eric.”

“Eric?” the young woman with Vikki asked. “You’re not … you know. Dating an Incubus, are you?” Her eyes widened. Zoey thought she heard earlier that the new girl’s name was Lydia.

“Worse. Zoey’s dating a human.” Vikki grinned.

“Damn right I am,” Zoey said firmly. “You got any aspirin, V?”

“Always.” Vikki reached into the locker beside Zoey’s and retrieved a bottle of painkillers, tossing it to her. “We went to a party last night after our secret mission that ended up not so secret. You were supposed to show. What the hell happened?”

“I dunno,” Zoey muttered. “I woke up with a horrible headache and blood on my lucky knife.”

Vikki eyed her. “You went out without me.”

“Not on purpose. I can’t remember shit.”

“This is what you have to look forward to,” Vikki said to Lydia. “A teammate who runs out on you to kill Cambions on her own.”

“I didn’t run out on the team.” Zoey sighed. “My head hurts and I’m running late.” She placed her workout gear into her locker and closed it. “Besides, she won’t be on our team long anyway.”

“Why not?” Lydia asked.

Zoey and Vikki exchanged a knowing look.

“Our team is for the Hunters no one wants to deal with,” Vikki replied. “Disciplinary nightmares. They can’t get rid of us, though, because we have the highest kill rates. And you’re blonde. None of us are.”

Lydia glanced past them to the rest of the girls. Zoey followed her gaze. The rest of the locker room looked like it was overrun by cheerleading squads or wannabe models: the normal girls who transferred into the elite Cambion-killing corps – known as Hunters – were chosen for their looks and were almost all blonde. Zoey was one of a small handful of brunettes and Vikki the only redhead. The third member of their team, Ginny, was half African American with dark hair and the fourth, Tiff, half-Korean with blue-black hair.

If Lydia stayed on Team R, she’d be the first and only blonde.

Zoey tugged a strand of hair free from her ponytail and curled it around her finger to make sure she’d put in enough hair product to make it stay. The curl remained, and she tucked it behind her ear.

“I don’t want to be a misfit, and I’m definitely not a disciplinary problem. Why did they put me on Team R?” Lydia’s voice showed how overwhelmed she was.

“Geez, thanks,” Zoey said dryly. “Like we have the plague.”

“We do,” Vikki said. “But we’re happy that way, and everyone knows we’re the best. You’ve reached the pinnacle, Lydia. Olivia is the only one who can appoint people to our team, and no one is allowed to transfer us or punish us the way they probably want to.”

“That’s what I heard,” Lydia said. “Team R has the highest kill rates and most successful missions. I heard the waiting list was over two hundred Hunters long.”

“So why did they put you on our team?” Zoey asked. “Didn’t you just transfer in from school?”

“Yeah.” Lydia shrugged. “Heidi said I placed the highest on the agility and strength exams since you, Zoey.”

“I hated those tests,” Zoey murmured, recalling the week-long trial that every Hunter went through. The better the Hunter, the farther down the alphabet they were assigned, in terms of teams. Team R was the most elite and smallest of them all. Teams A through Q consisted of at least ten Halflings each. There was no other team assigned a letter of the alphabet beyond R. Every Hunter was tested and placed upon entering the Hunter corps under the control of the full-blooded Succubae that acted as Internal Affairs officers.

“It can’t be that hard,” Vikki teased. “Zoey is like, two feet tall, so maybe she’s the odd one out, not you, Lydia.”

Even Lydia was close to six feet, like almost all half-Succubae were. Vikki’s flame-hued hair and Lydia’s flawless features reminded Zoey how different she really was. At just under five and half feet, Zoey was the smallest girl in the program and had been for three years. Her solace: she out-killed everyone but Vikki, her sole competition.

Zoey recalled when she’d first transferred from the Sucubatti’s version of high school into IAB, the security branch of their society, three years before. She’d been relieved to have an outlet for her restlessness rather than worried about fitting in. The alternatives – that she went into the diplomatic, business or public service corps – had been like an axe over her head, prior to her transfer here. She wasn’t cut out to deal with people and loved the life of defending innocent humans, clubbing, and killing bad guys.

“Anyway, just accept that you did something to get put on our team and move on. Don’t be like Zoey. She’s been in denial for years,” Vikki teased.

“Not denial,” Zoey retorted. “I want to be as normal as possible. I live in an apartment off this godforsaken compound for that reason. I have a boyfriend. I have a car and plants. This is a day job. Or, I guess a night job. That’s it.”

“Speaking of night job. You up for the club tonight?” Vikki asked. “I got a lead on a few Cambions.”

“Cambion,” Lydia repeated. “Incubus father, human mother. Unlike us, who are genetically made in a laboratory. They’re the ones we’re supposed to kill, because they kill humans to collect sex energy, right?”

“Good girl,” Vikki patted her on the head.

“Yeah, I’m there,” Zoey said. “It’s been like, a week since I’ve been out drinking. I’m going crazy. I have to stay ahead of your record.”

“No way in hell! You have to beat my record first!”

“It’s on, sistah!” Zoey grinned.

“Wow. Maybe I can-” Lydia started.

“Kay. Bye guys.” Zoey slung on her backpack and walked away. She didn’t want to be friends with the new girl or to spend more time on the damn compound than she had to. Pretending to be normal was hard work, and she wasn’t going to waste time here, especially if she was going out on a mission this evening.

She emerged from the locker room and crossed through the upscale gym, where a couple dozen girls still worked out or sparred with the weapons of their trade: pewter knives, short swords, and throwing knives. Stepping into the spring afternoon, she was irritated to see it was raining again. They’d had nothing but thunderstorms for a week solid. The sidewalk was flooded, which meant her feet would be soaked and half-frozen by the time she walked the mile to her apartment.

Zoey exited the campus through the wrought iron gates surrounding the pristinely kept lawns and modern buildings. The campus grew too fast the past few years, and the Halflings’ dorms were moved to the external side of the campus wall.

Dwelling on the missing night, Zoey felt worse for abandoning her friend last night, especially after standing up Eric, too. If that’s what happened. She really didn’t know. It wasn’t the first time she was missing an entire night.

The cold rain felt good against her heated skin at first. The sex magic trapped in her body left her feeling more fevered than usual. It took half a mile for the cold rain to sink into her skin and for her to start shivering. She plodded past the apartment buildings belonging to the humans she desperately wanted to be like and up the stairs to the place she shared with her boyfriend. Her phone rang as she opened the door. She reached for it and slung her backpack down before checking the ID.

“Hey Professor,” she grunted. “What’s up?”

“What’s up. What every polished young lady should be saying,” the male voice chided.

Zoey smiled. The Professor was the most ancient Incubus alive, but his voice carried the warmth of youth and the huskiness of a full-blooded Incubus. It slid across her skin like silk and tickled the sensitive area at the back of her neck.

One of five Incubuses that broke away from the Incubatti during the War that severed the Succubus and Incubus societies, the Professor was revered for the histories and records he kept. The Sucubatti rewarded the rebel Incubuses by giving them a special place in their society as scholars and the title of Benefactors, who helped rear young, full-blooded Succubae and the half-breeds, the girls who were half-human, half-Succubae, known simply as Halflings. In exchange for the Sucubatti sheltering men viewed by Incubatti as traitors, the Benefactors agreed never to collect sex energy again.

“My dear, do you have time to visit little ole me?” he asked.

“Always.” Zoey said with a sigh. The Professor was too gentle to order her to do anything. Every Hunter was assigned a guardian, a full blood Succubus capable of helping them balance the sex energy. The Benefactors were also assigned Halflings, and he was her guardian. She never told him no. “Eric has the car. Let me change clothes, and I’ll run over.”

“Eric. The human boyfriend?”

“You know very well who Eric is.”

“The human you abandoned me for a year ago. Interesting you made it this long.”

“He might be proposing soon,” she said, irritated at his bemusement. The Professor had stopped openly mocking her for wanting to distance the rest of her life from her professional one, but he still got his digs in when he could.

“Proposing what?” he asked politely.

“Marriage.”

“Aaahhhh. I believe I should congratulate you.” There was disbelief in his voice.

Zoey hung up on him. She stripped on her way to the bedroom and tossed the wet clothing. She’d be soaked by the time she got to the Professor’s Victorian-style house on the outside of campus. She dressed in leggings and a long-sleeve t-shirt then packed a change of clothes and slung them on her back. Pulling on a hat and running shoes, she paused by the front door to gaze at the collage of pictures on one wall.

They were all of her and Eric from the past year. Photographs from major holidays with his family, a summer vacation, his graduation from college. With sandy blond hair and dark eyes, Eric had a brilliant smile that lit up a room and a gentle heart. He wasn’t athletic or overweight. He worked as an accountant for a local insurance company. Everything about him screamed normal.

His mother had let it slip he wanted to propose soon. Zoey was at first thrilled then horrified. Eric had no idea what she was or what she did.

She left the apartment, troubled. She loved what she had with Eric. Their relationship was simple. Eric grounded her, kept her from being absorbed into the Sucubatti society like the rest of the girls. She was the only one who lived off campus, the only one with a life that didn’t revolve around the otherworldly society that sucked her in when she was ten. She remembered her foster home fondly, before she was yanked away and dumped into the Sucubatti society. She’d found a peaceful place again and didn’t want anything to change.

She ran along the street instead of the flooded sidewalks this time. There was less water on the street, and she arrived to the Professor’s with socks that were dry. Satisfied, she trotted up the stairs to his restored Victorian house and knocked on the door.

It opened to reveal a butler almost older than the Professor. Zoey walked in, wiping her nose on her t-shirt. The butler teetered away while she went to the restroom on the bottom floor. The décor of the house was masculine: dark woods, earth tone furnishings and heavy furniture. Changing quickly, she went to the office where she knew she’d find the Professor.

He glanced up from a large desk. What hair he still had was shaved. Tall with a lean frame, he resembled an aged George Clooney with sparkling, dark eyes. It was hard to remember his age with the Incubus charisma that still trickled off him, despite giving up sex energy for a hundred years. One of his hands clutched a cigar. She loved the scent of it, masculine yet sweet. His Incubus power wound though her senses, wrapped Zoey in a warm blanket and lured her into a sense of security she suspected was purposeful.

She dropped into the comfortable leather chair in front of his desk.

“Hey, kiddo.” He said drily in the voice that skittered across her nerves and made her body warm from the inside.

“Howdy. Here as requested.” Accustomed to the affects of his magic, she ignored the sensations.

“Marriage,” he said. “I’ve never lost a woman to another man.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “He hasn’t asked yet. He might not.”

“Or he might.”

“Yeah.” She looked out the window.

“If he does, you’ll have to leave him,” the Professor said. “You’re not ready for that yet.”

“I’ll deal with it,” she said quietly. The nature of the bond between a Hunter and her assigned Succubus or Incubus was completely one way. She’d stopped railing about the unfairness of it, mainly because the Professor was the only person on the planet who didn’t treat her like a child.

The Professor – and all the guardians – maintained access to the minds of the Hunters they sponsored. When in direct contact with their Halflings, they could read minds as well as sense their emotions from afar, due to their special bond. Most of the time, the Professor was content with hearing emotions of interest: fear, anger, sorrow that indicated there was trouble Zoey couldn’t handle. He rarely – if ever – read her mind.

“You don’t deal with things in a healthy manner,” he reminded her. “He’ll blow up, walk out and you’ll go over the edge. As usual.”

“I’ll come back. I always do.”

“Maybe you can postpone your meltdown for a few weeks.”

She sensed his unease and met his dark gaze again. The Professor set down the pen in his hand and leaned back.

“Someone has been fueling the divide between Incubatti and Sucubatti, perhaps by feeding misleading information to both camps. Or by some other means,” he started. “The culprit has been narrowed down to one of the Hunters. There’s going to be an inquisition soon.”

Zoey listened, surprised.

“I wanted to ask two favors of you today.”

“Anything,” she said instantly.

“One, may I access your mind to clear you?”

“Clear me? Those old gas bags on the Council think it’s me?”

“It’s someone from Team R. We know this.”

“Are you serious?” She sat forward. “You don’t have to ask me, Professor.”

“I have always respected your privacy, have I not?”

“Yeah, but if the choice was between stringing me up and clearing me, I’d hope you’d read my mind.” She held out her hand, knowing he needed direct contact with her in order to read her thoughts.

“I did already, before I woke you up this morning. I wanted to see your reaction.”

“Okay then. What’s next?” Zoey let a smile tug up the corner of her mouth. She didn’t know how she ended up on his porch swing, but she was grateful for how patient he was with her.

“We’re pretty sure it’s Vikki. I want you to go with her tonight and any other time she goes out. Tell me what happens. Watch out for signs she’s …sliding.”

A pang of sadness struck her at his words. Vikki had been the first to befriend her when she arrived on campus ten years ago and stuck by her since then. They’d gone on dozens of missions together.

“Sliding. I don’t get that,” she said after a pause.

“Into the influence of the Incubatti or Cambions, someone with malicious intent who may be using her to fuel the fire between the societies.”

“I’ve been on a few dozen missions with her, four recently. What would sliding look like?”

“It’ll look different if you’re not drunk,” he said gently. “You are the best we’ve got. You can be sloshed with two hands tied behind your back and a knife in your pinkie toe and still kill a Cambion. Which, by all accounts, is what you do. But, I need you sober.”

“I’ve tried sober. I’d rather not remember killing someone,” she said and rubbed her face. “Vikki? Are you sure?”

“Sure enough that the Incubatti are sending their Enforcers, and Olivia will probably allow it, according to my source. Unlike the Sucubatti Internal Affairs Officers, whose role is to maintain the peace and act as a police force, the Incubatti Enforcers are known to be somewhat … aggressive.”

”I’ve heard the stories in history class.”

Zoey’s breath caught at the idea of Vikki facing the monsters. According to school, the team of elite, super-Incubuses was dispatched to deal with issues a normal Incubus couldn’t. They had a history of striking first, investigating later and not being concerned about who got caught in the crossfire. None of the stories the Sucubatti scholars related to their students were good.

“I know you are close to Vikki. I ask this of you as much for you as for her. If there are other considerations we need to be aware of, I want to be able to present her case in full to the Enforcers. If she is being coerced or threatened in some way, she will not face the capital punishment the Enforcers normally hand out. If she is choosing to betray us, this is a different matter,” the Professor continued. “I want to give her a chance, Zoey.”

“I understand,” she said. “Thank you so much, Professor. I am constantly reminded how grateful I am that you’re my Benefactor. I don’t think hers would do this.”

“The rest of them can be … what do you normally call them? Dicks?”

She nodded.

“I’m too old to be a threat to the Incubatti Enforcers, though I know them well from their visits here,” he said. “I understand how special you are. I want you to be protected.” His smile faded. “I remember what started the War. I never want us to return to a time of open hostilities.”

Emotion conveyed in the voice of an Incubus hit a half-human with double the force of a normal emotion. His sorrow made her ache.

“Will you tell me what really happened?” she asked. “I don’t believe that garbage they teach us.”

“Not today.”

“You should tell me soon. You’re near-immortal, but not immortal. I might outlive you, old man.”

“You might.” He chuckled, his sorrow fading. “You bring life to my world, Zoey.”

“You’re lonely, aren’t you?”

“Not with you in my study.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Mine has been a lonely life, yes. But full. I regret nothing,” he told her firmly. He was smiling again.

“If Vikki is what you say she is … I mean, come on. She’s my best friend.” She felt melancholy. Her own emotion, this time. “I still haven’t found my footing, Professor. I just don’t fit in here.”

“You should stop fighting who you are and accept it,” he advised. “It has been my experience that those meant for greatness are normally the least aware of their own genius.”

“Greatness.” She made a face at him. “Whatever, Professor. What’s my genius?”

“Perhaps the word genius is a bit of an exaggeration in your case.”

Zoey laughed. She thought hard about what he’d told her. He trusted her, another unusual trait for the guardians who viewed the Halflings with derision. Most of them were puppet masters who used the Hunters and transferred them when they became too old or slow or wounded, usually around their twenty second birthdays. Vikki turned twenty-two six months ago and Zoey would in three months. Only the girls on Team R didn’t get transferred when they hit that milestone, maybe because they had the highest success rates of all Hunters. The Professor always treated her like a family member. She studied his ancient face, troubled.

“Is there any chance you’re wrong about Vikki?” she asked.

“Probably not. She’s done something to block the mind access of her Benefactor, so he can’t tell what she might’ve done,” he answered. “I hope not to put you in danger this evening. This is not my intent.”

“I’m in danger every evening,” she replied. “I’m not afraid of the Incubatti Halflings, especially when I know what happens if I let them live.” Anger bubbled within her. One of the first lessons every Hunter recruit learned was what Cambions did to the girls they lured to their beds. It was a brutal, bloody and slow death. Sex energy was only harvested from live victims, and Cambions could feed off one girl for days.

Incubuses could do worse. Sex energy gave them superhuman strength and agility. With their ability to cloud judgment, they could influence or seduce whomever they chose.

Sometimes, she forgot how dangerous the man before her was, if he decided to be. The Incubatti were governed by a handful of rules, similar to those the Sucubatti kept. They included not using magic to harm others unless in self-defense and emphasized discretion among the human population who didn’t know they existed. They relegated the divide in their philosophical differences to the battles between Hunters and Cambions. The Incubatti sent Cambions to do their dirty work collecting sex energy, and the Sucubatti sent in Hunters to defend innocent women from them. Full-blooded Succubae and Incubuses were forbidden from relationships and interactions with the Halflings of the other society, unless approved by the respective Council.

Any heartache she harbored about how the full-blooded Succubae treated their half-breeds died the day she saw the videos in class demonstrating what Cambions were capable of. She’d outright volunteered for missions, before she graduated from recruit status.

“I am saying, my thick-headed warrior, that I worry about you,” the Professor said.

“Like I worry about you being lonely?” she countered.

“Perhaps. I will keep my mind open to yours tonight. I will come, if you call.”

“I won’t put you in danger,” she said, looking over his tall frame. He was much thinner than when she met him three years ago, almost to the point of being gaunt.

“My dear, a full-blooded Incubus – even one older than dinosaurs – is stronger than you.”

“Whatever, Professor.”

“I am happy you were dumped upon my porch three years ago. That was one night where your drunkenness led you in the right direction.”

“I told the new girl today I wasn’t recruited the same way the other Hunters were. Vikki said I was probably too drunk to remember. But you would know, wouldn’t you?” she asked.

“I would know, yes, and you weren’t recruited.”

“You’ll tell me the truth, right?” she asked.

“I have many secrets, but this is not one.” His head cocked to the side. “Why does it matter, little Zoey, how you ended up with me as your guardian?”

Because it was the first time I blacked out like last night, she answered silently. Realizing she’d asked one question too many and stirred his interest, Zoey rose. She gave him a salute.

“I’ll come see you in the morning, before school,” she said. “Full report on my Vikki mission.”

“What are you hiding, my dear?”

“Nothing, Professor,” she mumbled. “Unless you want me to stay, I’m out, old man.”

“Be careful, kiddo.”

“Alright. You, too. Go see a movie or something.”

He snorted. Zoey knew he never left his house, unless it was to go to the campus across the street. She went to the bathroom to change back into her running gear.

By the time she’d jogged home, it was starting to get dark. The car belonging to her boyfriend, Eric, was parked in his spot in front of the apartment building. Upbeat after her talk with the kindly Incubus, she waltzed into the apartment, mouth dropping open to shout a hello, when her phone rang again.

“You finally here?” Eric called from the kitchen. It smelled like spaghetti night. Surprised he cooked, she almost forgot the phone.

“Yeah. One sec, Eric,” she said and dug through her backpack for the cell. She saw Vikki’s number cross the screen. “Hey, Vikki.”

“Meet me at seven?”

“Sure.”

“Wear something tight. There’s supposed to be like, five of them here tonight, so bring extra weapons.”

“Got it. Seven at the library,” Zoey said loudly enough for Eric to hear. “See ya then.” She hung up and stood in the living room for a moment.

Not Vikki. Not her only friend. Maybe there was some extenuating circumstance. Maybe they were threatening her or her family.

“You going out with Vikki again tonight?” Eric asked, poking his head out from the kitchen. He was frowning. “You were out all last night. The Professor called to tell me you got food poisoning or something and were at his place.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“You should’ve just called me to come get you.”

“I know,” she mumbled.

“You’re twenty-one, Zoey, but that doesn’t mean you have to go out drinking every night -- just because you’re finally legal.”

She shook off her dark mood and crossed to him, planting a wet kiss on his mouth. The sex energy that fueled her super-human abilities sprang to life at the short brush of their lips. She gripped his collar and pulled him back to her, kissing him deeply.

“When I get back, I’ll let you make love to me. How’s that?”

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world. I live with a nympho,” he said, returning her kiss.

“I’m not a nympho,” she said, flushing. She pushed him away playfully. I’m a Cambion-killing machine, fueled in part by my Benefactor’s Incubus sex energy. The influence of adrenaline, the superpowers derived from the Professor’s magic and the proximity to a Cambion’s sex energy normally left her horny enough to pounce on Eric when she got home.

If he asked her to marry him, she’d have to find a way to explain she was a half-Succubus who was able to tap into the energy harvested from sex to fight Cambions. Then explain that the Cambions who looked like guys in their 20s were really psychos who deserved to have their throats cut by someone like her. Oh, and not to worry, because when it looked like she was going home with guys and making out with them, she was actually going to kill them. And by the way, she knew how to kill a man about twenty different ways with a knife and had tried them all at least once. She had a few favorite ways to kill, too, and did Eric want to hear some funny stories about killing Cambions while drunk?

Zoey’s chest was too tight to breathe for a long moment as she tried to find some way to express the truth in a way that didn’t sound nearly as bad as it was. The Professor was right. She’d have a meltdown, if Eric asked her to marry him. She’d lose him and now, she might lose Vikki.

“Dinner’s almost ready. Go get dressed,” Eric said. “You okay?”

She forced a smile, realizing she’d been standing in the living room, lost in her thoughts. She grabbed her backpack, changed and lingered in the bedroom. It was quiet, the only sound was that of the rain outside the window. It was almost six. She’d have to eat and run. Packing club clothes in the bottom of her backpack, she loaded it next with her favorite weapons then stacked college textbooks on top.

Exiting the bedroom, she dropped the backpack on the couch and glanced at the tiny space in the apartment dedicated to a dining room. Eric had put candles and fresh roses on the card table they used for meals. She smelled the burnt edges of the cheesy bread from across the room. Eric wasn’t much of a cook, but he’d made the effort.

She smiled as she sat in a folding chair, touched by how sweet he was.

“I’ll admit, the sauce came from a can,” he said, emerging with two plates heaped with spaghetti. “Dig in.” He sat next to her.

Zoey relaxed, at ease with her small oasis away from the compound. Vikki had laughed at her when she moved in with Eric over a year ago, asking how one mile made any difference. Gazing at the dinner and Eric, Zoey felt like she was a billion miles from the other life she lived. They ate and discussed their days. Eric managed to make his boring days sound fun: some issue with someone else’s figures that made his boss cry, a coworker named Tory that kept hitting on him and today, one of the bathrooms exploded and flooded the main hallway with sewage.

Laughing at his stories, Zoey kept her attention divided between him and the clock, content to be there, but restless to be gone. She finished eating at half past six and was getting ready to stand and leave when Eric glanced up at her.

“I know you’re in a hurry. Five minutes, okay?” he asked. “I bought your fave dessert.”

“Sure.”

He rose and took their plates, disappearing into the kitchen. Anxious to be gone, she glanced at her watch a few times and tapped her foot. She’d have less time to get ready when she got to Vikki’s. Mentally, she double-checked everything she put in her backpack. Everything was there, down to her mascara and the paper thin knife she’d wear strapped to her thigh under a dress.

“It’s nothing fancy, but …”

She looked up with a smile as Eric brought in a large dinner plate with two small plates on top of it. Her smile froze as he lowered it to the table. It was her favorite dessert, yes, with one addition. Right in the center of her French vanilla ice cream with chocolate sprinkles was an engagement ring.

“… I know you hate parties and for people to make big deals out of things. This might be way too informal,” he said nervously. He dropped to one knee. “This ring comes with a lifetime supply of French vanilla.” He joked then drew a deep breath. “Zoey Alexander, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

Alexander wasn’t even her real last name. The Professor gave her his, since it was customary for recruits to assume new identities when they became Hunters. Eric had no idea who or what she was.

Zoey panicked. She stood. “I, ah, this is kind of a surprise, isn’t it? I mean we talked about someday.” She backed towards the couch and picked up her backpack. “Maybe I, um, can think about it. While at the library. Just to you know … think about it.”

Eric looked stunned.

“Um, so that’s what I’ll do,” she babbled. “Think at the library. Surrounded by books. Library books. They help me study, right? They’ll help me think.” She was at the door. “So, okay. I’ll see you later.”

She fled. Only when she’d run two blocks did she register how cold the dusk and rain were. She’d been running the wrong way, away from campus, not towards the dorms where she met Vikki before every mission. Her chest was heaving, as if she’d run for twenty miles, not a couple hundred feet. A car sidled up to her and stopped.

“You’ll get sick in this rain.” Eric’s voice was tense, but steady. “Hop in.”

Zoey wanted to refuse and run more, but she climbed in, cold. The tension between them was not the good kind. She glanced at him. He was pale, his hands clenching the steering wheel.

“Eric, I’m sorry. I just freaked out a little,” she said.

He said nothing for a long moment. “Maybe it was too soon. I dunno. I thought you wanted this as much as I do.”

“I do. I think I do. I mean, I do. You know me. I’m…” She sought the right words.

“An enigma?” he supplied. “It’s what attracted me to you originally. I still don’t know what you do all day.”

“School stuff.”

“I was going to say martial arts or something, based on your collection of knives.” He pulled up to the curb in front of the dorms. He didn’t look at her.

“There are a lot of things I don’t feel comfortable talking about,” she said honestly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t marry someone, if you can’t tell him who you are,” he said softly. “Zoey, if you’re not comfortable talking to me, this isn’t going to work. I think you need to figure out what you want.”

Zoey hurt. She didn’t know why. Was it for him? Was it fear?

“We can talk about it later,” he said at her silence. He wouldn’t look at her.

She didn’t know what to say. Zoey got out of the car and closed the door. Eric pulled away from the curb. She watched, helpless. When he disappeared around the block, she walked into the dorms and to Vikki’s room. Fury filled her, and she slammed her fist into the concrete wall, hating the idea of hurting someone who didn’t deserve it.