"Good. To Bash—Sebastian Venari."

She pulled out a piece of paper and wrote, "Snuggy Snot, 8—A Pretty Girl."

Cat entered the printer’s shop in town feeling quite greedy.

There were only a few businesses in Adairford, selling the kind of stuff college students stuck so far from civilization would find necessary. A pub—most of them were of age, after all, although a few geniuses in their teens had entered the Institute a time or two. A sports apparel store, essential for their intense training. A few clothing stores, a pharmacy, an apothecary that sold most of the ingredients needed for the crafting of spells, and, of course, a printer. Personal home printers worked well enough for notes and exercises, but most people liked to make their reports pretty.

In her six months here, Cat had become a regular. She liked binding her documents and using nice, heavy-grained paper.

"Oh, hello there!"

"Mrs. Lowery. I hope I didn’t catch you at an inconvenient time."

The owner of Thin Tree was a plump sixty-year-old with long white hair. The store looked a lot like a cozy living room, with a foyer and an armchair close to the fireplace where she liked to knit.

Mrs. Lowery's sister taught spells to post-grads. She also liked to knit, but her knitting involved needles crossing in mid-air in the corner of the classroom while she taught. Cat had heard a rumor that in the winter, the woman distributed scarves, gloves, and sweaters to everyone in town.

"Oh, shush. You could never disturb me. Let me just get that knot right, and then I'll be with you shortly. You want to pick your binding while I work? I got new colors in."

"Oh, I'm not here to print a lesson. Don't mind me, I'll just look at your displays for a minute."

She paged through the printer's catalogue and chose a thick pink paper. Cat pulled out her computer and adapted the design she'd been working on to fit the paper’s circular shape.

She'd kept things simple: the doodle of a teapot and a cup in one corner, then a short, "You're convivially invited for afternoon tea at Number Three, Night Hill, on Sunday at four. RSVP by Friday."

She'd signed the invitation by hand to make it look a little more personal. Having the tea this Sunday didn’t leave much notice, but the term ended tomorrow. They had a six-week summer break after that. Cat, always the overachiever, wanted to get the ball rolling before most of Oldcrest returned home for the summer.

"Oh! Afternoon tea. And on the hill, too. How delightful, dear. In my day, I would have squealed for something quite as exciting."

"You studied here?" Cat asked, somewhat surprised.

The older woman laughed. "No, I think not. I was never the studious one. But I was born here. My mother used to own this shop, and her father, and his mother before that, back since the days when we would be copying the speeches the lords of the hill gave us. I went away for high school, and then came right back. There's something about this place. It's impossible to leave. The rest of the world feels wild. And dirty."

Cat understood what she meant. The air was clear here—they barely used cars, and no factories were near.

Oldcrest might have been a little quiet if not for the company of many young sups. And hot teachers. And the occasional attack. Plus the underlying threats from many sides.

Come to think of it, Oldcrest wasn't quiet at all.

"But I've never been on the hill. Not once. I would have been so very excited if this had happened back when I was young."

"Well, you should join us, then. When do you think the invites will be ready?"

"It depends on how many you would like."

Cat thought for a moment. The house wasn't as grand as Levi's home, but a few of the rooms were large enough to fit four dozen people. The weather was kind this time of the year, and if she set up a tent in the garden, she could house the entire Institute, the staff, all of Adairford, and even the shifters in the Wolvswoods. Which wasn't saying much. Overall, perhaps five hundred people lived here. Less than three hundred students, a hundred staff, two dozen teachers…

She doubted everyone would take the invitation, but she could plan for a big event and scale down as needed.

"Five hundred, if you would."

“Oh my! Well, I'll get started right now. They will be ready by morning, latest. I could rush them if you needed me to…”

"Morning is soon enough."

She paid for the invitations, and added a generous tip, before heading back to the dorm. She had a couple of hours until she needed to head over to the pub. Maybe she should take a nice bubble bath.

Cat opened the door to the dorm’s right wing and found herself face to face with Jack.

"I was waiting for you," he said.

Cat stiffened. She didn't know what this was about, but she didn't like it.

"What for?"

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his suit and shrugged.

"You were right. I don't train myself. Because no one I've ever been sent to fight is a challenge. I don't need to. I didn't need to."

Cat waited for him to get to the point.

"If your brother comes here to attack us, I'll have to do something about it. I'd rather not die in the process."

"Not dying is always a good thing. What do you want from me?"

The huntsman grinned.

"Levi sent you with us to protect Chloe. That tells me you can hold your own."

"His slayers were out of the territory. But yes. I'm not terrible at self-defense."

"Good. Train with me, then."

"Aren't you racing with everyone?"

Jack shook his head. "Tris can manage them for a night."

Dammit. So much for her bath.

By training, Jack meant that he would relentlessly launch himself at her and knock her down, hard.

Fuck, the guy was strong.

But strength wouldn't be enough.

She spat blood on the floor and straightened her spine, climbing to her feet.

"All right. You can obviously kick my ass." There was no denying that. "But Seth will wipe the floor with your face."

"Do you have a brother complex or something?" Jack asked.

She had a feeling the man had something against her.

"I'm just saying it like it is. You're not fast enough, and I've seen no magic from you."

"I don't use magic."

Cat kept talking to buy herself some time, all the while gathering her strength. "Well, then, you'd better try to work out how to deal with this."

She extended her hands, and a lightning bolt flashed through the sky, hitting him right on his boots.

She grinned, happy with her aim, although she'd technically intended to hit the ground.

Jack glared at her, eyes narrowed.

"This was weak. And slow. Seth will be a lot faster, aim it properly, and fry your brain. Any mortal would die on impact. Some vampires could potentially survive. You? The first one might not kill you. But he'll summon ten more before you can recover."

Jack looked pissed, but he nodded. "All right. I can be faster."

"Faster is a start."

Promises

She just had time for a quick shower before running to the pub.

"Cat! What will it be?" Chloe greeted her.

"Wine. Wet and white or red." She tilted her head toward Jack, who was sitting around a large table with his cousin, a beautiful brown-skinned witch Cat didn't know well, Gwen, and two other huntsmen. "On him."

After knocking her about for an hour, he totally owed her a drink. Jack nodded.

Cat had only entered the pub a couple of times, but it had always been packed. That Friday was no exception. She was surprised to spot Fin Varra in one corner, seated with Alexius and drinking something that smelled like well-aged spiced rum. He wasn't one to show his face much outside of class.

"Hey."

Bash. She recognized his scent as soon as the door opened. The man circled her shoulders with his arms, pulling her close, and the entire pub came to a complete standstill. Not so much as a fly moved anywhere.

Chloe cleared her throat. "All right, then. Nothing to see. Back to your brew, everyone."

The crowd attempted to resume their conversations, but Cat felt eyes on her as she advanced.

"Did you need to do that?" she whispered to Bash, who shrugged, entirely unabashed.

"I mean, I didn't need to, but I wanted to hug you. And I give nice hugs."

He did.

"Whatever," she replied, giving up. What was done was done, and short of erasing the memory, or killing everyone in the room, there was no undoing it.

Thankfully, the waitress, one of the Campbell daughters, soon arrived with a large glass of red.

"Anything for you, Bash?" the girl asked, batting her eyelashes like she couldn't see his arm around Cat's waist.

Cat did consider gouging her eyes out, but she quickly reined in her vampire instincts.

"A lager on tap, please, Mel."

He smiled at the waitress, and now Cat wanted to scratch his eyes instead.

What was wrong with her? She'd never been half that catty or possessive.

"Since when has this been going on?" Tris asked as soon as they reached the table.

Cat was quick to reply. "Nothing is going on."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Yesterday. Catherine is a goddamn ice queen about it, though. Somewhat predictably."

"Good luck, man," Jack said with a wince. "Better you than me."

Cat flipped him the finger before looking around the room.

"Searching for anyone specifically?"

"Yeah, Blair," Cat replied, without specifying why.

They occasionally spent time together; there was nothing conspicuous about wondering if one of her friends was around.

Sebastian did catch her eye, nodding knowingly.

"She tutors until eight-thirty, so she won't be long."

Cat killed time, nursing her wine and listening to the huntsmen's banter. As the minutes passed, she felt more and more nervous. She turned to the door every time it opened, although she would have identified Blair’s scent before she walked in.