Embers & Ice

Chapter Twenty-Two

Somewhere, between her first few days of imprisonment and this new side to inhumanity she discovered in the Orb, Hunter felt a darkness swirl within her. It was black and cold like Dr. Wolfe’s soul and it leeched through her, like tar smothering the cracks on a road. The fire cowered from the blackness, because it had never felt anything so dark. Except once: That night in the warehouse, when revenge crept up on her and the fire had brought out an evil side she’d never seen before. It was not quite as silently deadly, but it was just as bad and just as powerful.

The fire didn’t know this darkness. It was grief and terror and hurt and fury all at once, and it was spreading in her soul. The only thing that stopped the fire the first time was love. But her love had vanished when she truly accepted Eli’s death, and there was certainly no love in her life now.  

That was why Hunter didn’t seem to care about the black spirit that quietly freed itself inside her. Even if she had love in her life, could she see it then? Or was there a greater love to overpower it? Was the ultimate battle with her inner self still to come?

Voices interrupted Hunter as she pounded her frustrations into her punching bag that evening. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Marcus and Mosi stroll into the room. For the first time ever, Hunter noticed there were no guards, and the two boys were using that opportunity to talk a little louder than normal.

“I don’t mean Jamison,” Marcus hissed and sat down on the bench. It was always Marcus bench pressing, Hunter noted. Mosi never seemed to do anything. “You know that, right? It’s Steel we should be worried about.”

“We should be worried about even discussing this,” Mosi replied. He shot Hunter a glance. “People could be listening.”

Marcus frowned, and only then did he seem to notice her. After a moment he leaned back on the bench and gripped the bar. “Spot me.”

Hunter pretended to reposition the bag and tried to ignore them, but Mosi had other ideas.

“Your boxing wasn’t up to scratch in the Orb,” he addressed her quietly.

Hunter turned. “If you were in my position, you would know that wasn’t the case.”

“Yes,” he said. “But fortunately, if I was in your position, Will would be dead.”

A lump rose in Hunter’s throat at the truth in his words. Though Mosi’s eyes were soft and burdened, his body was strong and large. He could crush her with one clench of a fist, and she didn’t doubt that he’d do it to survive.

“So are you gonna correct me on my technique again?” she asked. “Am I not standing right?”

Mosi inclined his head. “If you turn a little and bend your knees, you’ll have a stronger impact.”

Hunter snorted and turned back to the bag. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Did you punch Jamison when he attacked you in the bathroom?” he asked, hovering his palms under the bar as Marcus lifted.

Zac, you blubbering twat. Hunter sighed and decided if this was question time, she might as well sit down. She started stretching her legs out on the mat beside them.

“It’s a little harder fighting a grown man with an extreme hard-on than a sack hanging from the ceiling.”

Marcus started to chuckle and nearly lost his concentration.

“I can only imagine,” said Mosi.

“I have a question for you guys, if that’s alright.”

Marcus dropped the bar and exchanged looks with Mosi. “Shoot.”

Hunter met his raven-black eyes. “Why are you always in here with each other? Mosi doesn’t even need to work out.”