L. Smith - Moonsong

“Not without reason,” Meredith said dryly.

Matt’s eyes were wet. “Whatever happens, I need you to promise me something,” he said. “Please, be careful. I can’t—let’s not lose anyone else, okay?” Bonnie snuggled closer to him, putting her hand on his.

Meredith reached over and placed her hand over both of theirs, and Elena added hers to the pile. “We’l take care of one another,” Elena said.

“A vow,” said Bonnie, trying to smile. “We’l always watch out for one another. We’l make sure everyone is safe.”

At that moment, as they murmured in agreement, she was sure they could do it.

Meredith pivoted and stepped forward, swinging her staff down to strike at Samantha’s heavily padded knees.

Samantha dodged the blow, then jabbed her own staff straight toward Meredith’s head. Meredith blocked the blow, then thrust her staff at Samantha’s chest.

Samantha staggered backward and lost her footing.

“Wow,” she said, rubbing her col arbone and looking at Meredith with a mixture of resentment and appreciation.

“That hurt, even with the padding. I’ve never trained with anyone so strong before.”

“Oh, wel ,” Meredith said modestly, feeling absurdly pleased, “I practice a lot.”

“Uh-huh,” Samantha said, eyeing her. “Let’s take a break.” She flopped down on the mat, and Meredith, her staff balanced lightly in one hand, sat beside her.

It wasn’t her staff, of course, not her special hunting one.

She couldn’t bring her heirloom slayer staff to the gym—it was too clearly a customized deadly weapon. But she’d been delighted to learn that Samantha could fight with a four-foot-long jo staff and that she had an extra.

Samantha was quick and smart and fierce, one of the best sparring partners she’d ever had. Fighting, Meredith was able to block out the helpless feeling she’d had in Matt’s room this morning. There was something so pathetic about seeing al Christopher’s things sitting there ready for him, when he was never coming back. He had one of those weird little fake Zen gardens on his desk, the sand neatly groomed. Maybe just the day before, Christopher had picked up the tiny rake in his hand and smoothed the sand, and now he’d never touch anything again.

And it was her fault. Meredith squeezed her staff, her knuckles whitening. She had to accept that. If she had the power of being a potent force against darkness, a hunter and slayer of monsters, she had the responsibility, too.

Anything that got through and kil ed someone in her territory was Meredith’s failure and her shame.

She had to work harder. Practice more, go out patrol ing the campus, keep people safe.

“Are you al right?” Samantha’s voice broke through Meredith’s thoughts. Startled, Meredith saw Samantha staring at her with wide, solemn dark eyes, taking in Meredith’s gritted teeth and clenched fists.

“Not entirely,” said Meredith dryly. “Um.” She felt like she had to explain her grimness. “Did you hear about what happened last night, the guy who was kil ed?” Samantha nodded slowly, her expression unreadable. “Wel , he was the roommate of a real y good friend of mine. And I was with my friend today, trying to help him. It was … upsetting.” Samantha’s face seemed to harden, and she scrambled up on her knees. “Listen, Meredith,” she said, “I promise you this isn’t going to happen again. Not on my watch.”

“On your watch?” Meredith asked mildly. Suddenly, it felt hard to breathe.

“I have responsibilities,” Samantha said. She dropped her eyes to her hands. “I’m going to catch this kil er.”

“It’s a big job,” Meredith said. It wasn’t possible, was it?

But Samantha was such a good fighter, and what she was saying … why would she think she was responsible for stopping the kil er? “What makes you think you can do it?” she asked.

“I know this is difficult to believe, and I shouldn’t even be tel ing you, but I need your help.” Samantha was looking straight into her eyes, practical y vibrating with earnestness.

“I’m a hunter. I was raised to… I have a sacred trust. Al my family for generations, we’ve fought against evil. I’m the last of us. My parents were kil ed when I was thirteen.” Meredith gasped, shocked, but Samantha shook her head fiercely, pushing Meredith’s sympathy away. “They hadn’t finished training me,” she continued, “and I need you to help me get better, get faster. I’m not strong enough yet.” Meredith stared at her.

“Please, Meredith,” Samantha said. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. People are depending on me.” Unable to stop herself, Meredith started to laugh.

“It’s not a joke,” Samantha said, jumping to her feet, her fists clenched. “This is… I shouldn’t have said anything.” She stalked toward the door, her back as straight as a soldier’s.

“Samantha, wait,” Meredith cal ed. Samantha whirled back toward her with a face ful of fury. Meredith took a quick breath and tried desperately to remember something she’d learned as a child but never had occasion to use.

Crooking her pinkies together, she drew up her thumbs to make a triangle, the secret sign of greeting between two hunters.

Samantha just stared at her, face perfectly blank.

Meredith wondered if she remembered the sign correctly.

Had Samantha’s family even taught it to her? Meredith knew there were other families out there, but she had never met any of them before. Her parents had left the hunter community before she was born.

Then Samantha, moving as quickly as she ever had when they’d sparred, was before her, gripping her arms.

“For real?” Samantha said. “Are you serious?” Meredith nodded, and Samantha threw her arms around her and clutched her tightly. Her heart was beating so hard that Meredith could feel it. Meredith stiffened at first

—she wasn’t the touchy-feely type, despite being best friends with wildly affectionate Bonnie for years—but then relaxed into the hug, feeling Samantha’s slim, muscular body under her arms, so like her own.

She had the strangest feeling of familiarity, as if she had been lost and had now found her true family at last.

Meredith knew she could never say any of that, and part of her felt like she was betraying Elena and Bonnie just by thinking that way, but she couldn’t help it. Samantha pul ed away, smiling and weepy, wiping at her eyes and nose.

“I’m acting stupid,” she said. “But this is the best thing that ever happened to me. Together, we can fight this.” She gave a half-hysterical sniff and gazed at Meredith with huge shining eyes. “I feel like I’ve made a new best friend,” she said.

“Yes,” Meredith said—not weeping, not laughing, cool as ever on the outside but, inside, feeling like she was breaking into happy pieces—“yes, I think you’re right.” 14

Matt hunched his shoulders miserably. He had come to the pledge meeting because he didn’t want to stay in his room alone, but now he wished he hadn’t. He’d been avoiding Elena, Meredith, and Bonnie—it wasn’t their fault, but so much violence had happened around al four of them in the past year, so much death. He’d thought it might be better being around other people, people who hadn’t seen how much darkness there was in the world, but it wasn’t.

He felt almost like he was swathed in bubble wrap, thick and cloudy. As the other pledges moved and talked, he could watch them and hear them, but he felt separated from them; everything seemed muffled and dim. He felt fragile, too, as if removing the protective layer might make him fal apart.

As he stood in the crowd of pledges, Chloe came over and stood next to him, touching his arm reassuringly with her smal , strong hand. A gap appeared in the bubble wrap, and he could real y feel her with him. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it grateful y.