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Life is funny.
No, wait—I already started with that one. Let’s do this again.
Life is strange.
As in monsters-do-exist-and-one-of-them-is-after-me strange. Which explains why I found myself on an archery range after school, struggling with a heavy crossbow.
Yeah—just like the crossbow left in my car after Sam’s mom was hurt. The one that was still missing. I try not to think about who might have taken it. Or what might have—okay, getting off that topic.
I found my crossbow online, after discovering the amazing world of reenactment sites. They are a fantastic resource for all sorts of medieval-looking pointy things, like weapons.
And speaking of Sam, he was still gone.
After more than a month, I haven’t gotten used to the gaping hole in my heart.
Well, that was dramatic. Actually, I missed him, more than I ever thought I could miss anyone. But the holidays helped, with Thanksgiving in just a couple of days. I knew this year it would be bittersweet for me.
That’s where the archery range comes in. Not only did I need a serious distraction, I also needed to know I could defend myself, and have a fairly easy weapon to get my hands on when I needed it. So far, the crossbow was not that weapon.
“It’s too big for you, Finch.”
I whirled at the familiar voice. Jake strutted across the range, wearing—I had to look twice for it to register—the uniform of an instructor. Fabulous.
“Hey, Jake.” He flashed a smile, and relieved me of the crossbow. My arms ached just from holding the bloody thing. I deliberately ignored the ache in my back, where the scabbed over wounds from the Devil sent out a twinge every hour or so to remind me they were there. “I figured I could—”
“Work your way into it? One shot would drop you on your—” He raised his eyebrows and glanced in the direction of my butt. When I glared at him, his smile widened. “Why this sudden need for heavy weaponry?”
Ever since Halloween, I tend to spill my guts whenever Jake asks a question. “The monster I thought I killed knows where I live.”
“Ah.” He’d had his own run-in, so I knew he’d understand. But for some reason he also looked—uncomfortable. Before I could ask, he started walking toward the building. “Come on—I have something that will work much better for your size.”
I had to hustle to keep up with him, and my still hinky ankle let me know it was unhappy about running across an uneven field.
Yeah, all the abuse finally caught up with me. I had to wear an ankle brace on it pretty much all the time, and Madame Chloe banned me from class until it was off.
I also had to give up my beloved motorcycle boots until my ankle healed. My collection of ballet flats had grown over the last month. Honestly, I felt naked without all that heavy leather covering the bottom half of my legs.
I caught up with Jake at the equipment room. He had already been inside, and held up a simple recurve bow. A green recurve bow.
“That’s for kids, isn’t it?”
“It’s for people who need something smaller,” he said. “Don’t frown at me like that. It’s more powerful than you think.” He handed it to me. I was surprised by how light it was, and how good it felt in my hands. So good, I wanted to give it back. Immediately. “Keep it, Finch,” he said. Obviously my internal struggle was more visible than I thought. “I’ll feel better knowing you can defend yourself with more than a pocket knife.”
“At least I can carry that around without looking like an extra from Robin Hood.” I tested the bowstring, tried to look like I knew what I was doing. And let out a yelp when it snapped against my left forearm.
Smiling, Jake held out a gorgeous green suede—something. “An arm guard,” he said. “It will protect your arm from what you just did. Here.” He slid what looked like a black leather fingerless glove on my hand and velcroed the whole thing so the long strip of heavy green suede covered my still stinging inner forearm, and my palm. “It will also keep the bow from slipping because of panic sweat.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t panic.”
No, I didn’t panic when I killed my first monster—or thought I killed it. I cried, feeling like my heart had been ripped out.
But maybe he did have a point. With the monster—known as the Devil in my handy guide to all the monsters, half-humans, and Others that really did exist—leaving a warning that it knew where I lived, panic may just happen. At the wrong moment.
Jake waited for me to figure that out. “So—we on the same page now?”
I let out a sigh. “Yeah.”
“Good. Since you now have plenty of time in the afternoon, I want you here, practicing with that bow until it’s second nature. And you can multitask—dance across the field when you go to pull your arrows out of the target.”
“Hilarious.” I could barely hear myself over his laughter. There it is—the reason I never wanted anyone to know about my dancing. “Are you finished?”
“Sorry.” He couldn’t seem to stop grinning, so I let it go. And he looked so much like a dark haired/dark eyed version of Sam, I found it easier to forgive. “Let’s get some arrows and see how much work I’m going to have ahead of me.”
~ ~ ~
I surprised both of us by being a natural.
By the time Jake let me go, my hands ached, my arms and shoulders ached more, and I had several bruises on my left forearm, in spite of the guard.
“Okay, my pretty little Robin Hood.” Jake pulled the bow out of my hands before I could nock another arrow. “That’s enough for today.”
“But I can—”
“You’re going to be cursing me tomorrow already.” He packed the bow and practice arrows in a bag, and slid it over my shoulder. I managed not to cringe at the weight. “Now go home, take a long, hot bath, and stretch. I know, you’re a dancer, with all that compact muscle. But you’ve been using different muscles today. Trust me—you’re going to feel it tomorrow.”
Tomorrow? I already felt like someone beat me with a stick. But I wasn’t going to say a word, and would do my best not to limp to my car. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you here tomorrow?”
Jake swallowed, looked away from me. “I have—another appointment. But I’ll have one of the other instructors work with you. Go home, Finch, get some rest.”
He walked across the field—and startled me by picking up my crossbow, and taking it with him. Since I couldn’t use it without major injury to myself, I had planned to donate it to the archery school. But why did Jake need it?
I really wanted to follow him—but now every muscle was begging for some R and R. Careful of my ankle, I limped across the field, headed for my car. All I wanted right now was a bath, a big bowl of Dad’s spicy homemade chili, and my bed.
Crazy me—I was still looking for normal.