CHAPTER 6

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Ava Morales snorted, the sound echoing off the slick white tiles of the bathroom. She sank deeper into the tub, the warm water lapping at her chin. “My Catholic school education didn't really cover tarot cards.”

“With good reason,” Father Augustine’s voice crackled through the phone’s speaker, a low rumble of disapproval. “They are largely the tools of charlatans. I don’t believe actual witches ever used them, but the symbolism… the symbolism of the card could be significant.”

“I’m all ears.” She closed her eyes, letting the steam warm her face. The scent of lavender from the bath bomb was a small luxury after the grime and adrenaline of her last hunt.

“Traditional tarot decks depict the Ten of Swords as a lifeless man lying with ten swords sticking out of his back,” he said, the rustle of papers a familiar counterpoint to his words. “It’s a death card. It signals death, destruction, and betrayal.”

“Beautiful,” Ava said, the word as dry as dust. “But pretty fitting. Both shifters who used me as the Huntress are now deceased.” A small, tight smile touched her lips. The last monster had been a particularly vicious one, a hulking bear shifter who had a disturbing habit of collecting his victims’ teeth. He had seen the sigil of her calling on her arm and had been confident in his victory. He was wrong. The image of the bear shifter lying in a heap, the gleam of her hunting knife still in his chest, was a flicker in her mind.

Father Augustine fell silent. The quiet was worse than his censure. It was the same silence she remembered from his office at St. Michael's, the headmaster’s office, the place where she was trained not only as a hunter but as a young woman. That quiet meant she wasn't taking something seriously enough, that he was waiting for her to understand the gravity of the situation.

“This is nothing to laugh about, young lady,” he said, his voice dropping into that practiced headmaster tone she knew so well. “You could be in danger.”

“I hunt monsters for a living. I’m in danger a lot,” she replied. The words were automatic, a well-worn shield. Part of her, the blustering, confident part she showed the world, believed her own words. The other part, the small, scared part she kept hidden, knew she was right to worry. If more shifters possessed the card, if it was a signal, a call to arms, then the stakes were higher than she had ever imagined. An enterprising monster might not just run from her but try to turn the tables and hunt the Huntress.

“Never mind. I believe it would be for the best,” he breathed out, and his voice wavered slightly. “If we remove you from the field for a bit.”

“Huh?” Ava sat up so quickly she splashed water onto the new bath mat, her carefully cultivated serenity shattering. “Sir, I’m not scared. I’ve been in jail before, and I’ll be in jail again. If the card scares you that badly, I’ll just change my appearance. I need a haircut anyway.”

“That would be a good idea…with the exception of a respite from active hunts.” Another heavy sigh. “Once we learn more about the card and the potential danger it could represent, we can revisit your fieldwork.”

“Come on,” Ava snapped, slapping the water with her other hand, sending a spray of soapy water onto the mirror. “I’m your best hunter. You can’t afford to sit me.”

He was silent again, and she could almost see him nodding his head, a silent acknowledgment of her truth. He always spoke of monster hunting as a godly vocation, a calling from a higher power. She didn’t go that far, but she agreed with the core of his belief. It wasn’t a job for her. It was a calling—her life. Without the hunt, she was nothing.

“Don’t mind that. I’ve already talked with my sub-Saharan counterpart. Things have been pretty quiet there. They will lend us a hunter or two until we’ve resolved this card issue.”

“So, what am I to be doing meanwhile?” Her fingers tightened on the phone, the hard plastic digging into her skin. “I can promise you that you won’t want me doing my official duties at St. Michael’s Shelter. I do not do paperwork.” Her cover job as an administrator at the shelter was a necessary evil. Her last After-Action Report had been a single, illegible sentence and a hasty sketch of a monster’s face.

She knew he was just being protective. He was more than her boss. Since the death of her parents, he was the closest thing she had to a father figure, and his concern, while misguided, was a source of comfort. Still, the prospect of giving up the chase, even for a brief moment, was driving her crazy like nothing else ever had. Not even when a shifter had overpowered her and left her for dead.

“I know that. Sister Sophia nags me constantly about your reports,” he said, a hint of dry humor in his tone. “No, I have another job for you. Do you remember when you spoke to me about Ethan Blackwood?”

The water, which had been so warm a moment ago, now felt like ice. Ethan Blackwood. The one shifter she hadn’t reported. The one she’d found to have such mastery over his inner beast that her own shifter detection senses could barely feel anything from him. When she had first met him, she had only had a hunch. When she finally got the whole truth, she kept it to herself.

“What about him?” she asked, trying to mask the emotion in her tone, but it came out flat and lifeless.

“His company is creating a facial recognition software that we would die for to get hold of,” Father Augustine said, the crinkle of papers once again filling the space between them. “I’ve organized a position for you as an observer at his company while they finish the project. I want you to observe Blackwood and the software.”

“I know nothing about computers.” She would rather be marooned at St. Michael’s, drowning in paperwork, than be within ten feet of Ethan Blackwood. Catching a glimpse of him now, she didn’t know whether she’d melt into his arms or plunge a silver dagger into his chest. It was a terrifying thought. The last time she’d seen him, she’d wanted to kiss him and kill him in equal measure.

“The perfect mark you achieved in Sister Sophia’s Introduction to Computer Programming class would appear to be a contradiction to that,” he teased.

“It was an introductory survey class at the high school level that is hardly enough to merit having me placed in his company.” Her stomach dropped as she realized he was not going to take no for an answer. There was another reason, of course. A bigger reason.

“Is there another reason you don’t want to do this?” His taunting intensified as he spoke. “Does someone have a crush on the beautiful CEO?”

“No, sir, but I’m not starting today,” Ava huffed, resigning herself to the inevitable. “I got home less than an hour ago.”

“Ava, it’s Sunday today. I don’t think they would be in the office,” he chuckled. “I’ll tell them to get ready for my observer to visit tomorrow, and I’ll give you the address. And please do come in today. I'm assuming you are running out of your medicine.”

After she hung up, Ava leaned back in the tub until her head submerged completely. She was not a delicate little girl with a crush. She was the Huntress, and Ethan Blackwood was a shifter. And in her limited exposure to the man, he had kept his beast on a leash.

Working with him gave her an opportunity to see if he could truly keep his inner beast in check. And if she nudged him a little—tried to coax the wolf out into the open—he’d be able to earn his spurs. Or give her a reason to end his life.

She pulled her head back above the water, gasping a huge lungful of air. What would Father Augustine’s observer wear to the office? She’d need to go out and buy something, but she could do that later. Her hand caressed down across her belly. Might as well try to get it out of her system first.