Huntress

I woke in the morning to the sound of an espresso machine.

To my side there was a groan as someone else was presumably also awoken. I opened my eyes and propped myself up on an elbow, squinting.

“Awake?” a young female voice – Holly – asked.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I nodded. The light in the room told me it was later in the morning. It also gave me a better look at Holly than I had last night. Her slim features were more defined and I could see the colours striped beneath the blonde hair.

“I’m guessing I’m not at home?”

She shook her head, looking way too fresh for anyone who was up until five am and awake four hours later. “You haven’t gone anywhere.”

Now I sat up fully and shrugged off the blanket someone had thrown over me. I was lying on a futon-type bed thing, a couch cushion as my pillow. Cramped muscles and rumpled clothes made it feel like the morning after a party.

Only, you know, without the hangover. Thankfully.

Holly offered me a drink of water, which I took gratefully. Then she offered a different glass to Eli, who was sitting up on a nearby bed similar to mine, and must have been the one who groaned.

“What’s the time?” I asked, clearing my throat when the words got stuck.

Holly consulted a clock on the wall that I felt stupid for not noticing. “Nearly ten.”

“And what day is it?”

“Tuesday…”

I ran through my work roster for the week and sighed, remembering I had a shift that started at four. “Alright.”

At some point in the near future, I had to go home. I hoped my dad hadn’t found me missing and panicked; I suppose I could just tell him I was at Chloe’s. A quick check of my phone revealed that only Tris loved me – he sent me a goodnight message at one which I’d failed to notice.

I had a gulp of water and tried not to focus on how shit I felt. Slowly, bits of what happened last night started to come back, in tendrils. Oddly, it felt less real in the bright morning sun.

Sort of like watching a horror movie in the middle of the day.

Throwing the blanket off, I got up, adjusting last night’s clothes. My backpack held a different shirt, one I’d packed ‘just in case’, so I went to find it.

Alec was in the kitchen, holding a mug. He’d changed into long shorts and a white shirt with NOFX emblazoned on the front. I nodded to him without a word and went to retrieve the bag still sitting on the kitchen chair.

“Sleep alright?” he asked, voice gravelly.

“Yeah,” I replied with a yawn. “Not bad, I guess. Considering.”

After locating the shirt – just a plain black singlet really – I unzipped my jacket and draped it over the backpack. Then, facing away from Alec, I pulled my other shirt over my head with one quick motion.

Surely he’s seen a girl’s back before, right?

To his credit, his face didn’t change once I pulled the singlet on and turned around again. To save room in my bag I threw my hoodie on again, leaving the front unzipped and the sleeves pushed to my elbow.

“Where’s Asp?” I asked.

Alec shrugged. “She went out about an hour ago. Why?”

“No reason.”

There was a small awkward silence, the kind which grows harder to break the longer it’s left to set. Then, with exquisite timing, Holly breezed in and put a glass in the sink.

“I just realised,” she said to me, “that we didn’t get properly introduced last night. And I’m guessing Alec wasn’t forthcoming about himself and I’m guessing you don’t know who the hell Eli is either, right?”

Taken by surprise by her up-front manner, I nodded.

“Well, I’m Holly. Holly Langdon. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

She stuck out her hand and I leant forward to shake it. “Finally?”

“Yeah,” Holly nodded. “Asp has been jumping around for a week. Well, her version of jumping around. Diana this, Diana that, Diana’s coming, et cetera et cetera…”

That sounded… odd. Asp gave me the impression she didn’t give a shit whether I made it or not.

“Huh. Right.”

She pointed a black-fingernail-polished finger at Alec. “That over there is Alec Sinclair, whom I have known since I was seven and who thinks having twelve months over me is enough to make him superior.”

Alec made a wry gesture to the effect of ‘well, if the shoe fits…’

I smirked as Holly rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t, loser.”

There was a shuffling sound near the doorway and Eli appeared, looking considerably better than he did last night. He still looked far from good, however.

“Morning,” Alec greeted him without enthusiasm.

Eli waggled his fingers at the other guy and lowered himself carefully into a chair opposite me. In the daylight I could see light brown hair tinged with blonde, an unshaven face and uneasy brown eyes. He made a valiant attempt at a smile.

“I’m alright.”

Holly looked between the two of us. “Di, this is Eli O’Connor. Eli, this is Diana. As in Diana Everard.”

He looked vaguely impressed and I began to feel a bit like Harry Potter.

“How are you?” I tried, in an attempt to be friendly.

“Better since I met him,” he replied, gesturing with his head toward Alec.

Alec acknowledged this with a small smile of his own. Their little exchange reminded me of what previously my brain had assumed to be a dream.

“Speaking of feeling better,” I said, raising an eyebrow, “I don’t suppose I get an explanation of what the hell that was last night?” To illustrate my point I gestured to Eli’s face.

Holly opened her mouth but then looked at both of the guys. “You know, that’s really something you should talk to Asp about, she could probably tell you way better…”

I shook my head. “No way. If I have to wait for another answer from that woman I’ll go mad. Just tell me.”

“It’s… it’s…” Holly started.

“Hard to explain,” Alec finished. “Sort of something you have to see to believe…”

No kidding…

“How desperate are you to know?” the other girl asked.

I thought about it briefly. The list of Things I Really Want Right Now was a short one, and consisted of food, a shower, some more sleep, someone to spontaneously decide to work my shift for me and for my mother to be normal. I suppose wanting my questions answered came somewhere between items four and five.

Holly nodded when I relayed that information. Alec seemed to catch on.

“Can you wait two days? Til Friday night?” he asked.

I gave him a suspicious look. “Two days? Why two days?”

Holly gave a little smile. “That’s when the Masquerade meets again in full. It’ll be a lot easier to show you there.”

The thought of actually going almost made up for not knowing immediately. Although logically it made sense that I would be made attend or shown the Masquerade, I hadn’t thought about it in those terms. It was… thrilling, actually.

“And you swear on… on everything… that you’ll tell me everything on Friday night?”

Both of them nodded solemnly.

I sighed. It would have to do. Quite frankly, at that moment I didn’t feel up to taking anything in, let alone information that’d probably turn out to be important.

“Fine. Whatever.”

Holly smiled. Alec put down his mug in the sink and then slipped a hand in his pocket to dig out keys.

“Need a ride home, dude?” he asked Eli, who rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m good to stay here a while.”

I noticed him and Holly exchange a look, but didn’t say anything. Alec must have caught it too, and his face curled up in a tiny scowl. They didn’t see it, or respond if they did.

I raised a finger. “I’ll take one.”

Alec looked surprised and reluctant but I shrugged. I didn’t want to walk home from Glebe, and he was offering… what did he expect?

“Alright,” he nodded, with a half-shrug.

We were both ready to go and I so followed him outside, out the gate and into the passenger seat of a new-looking, shiny white Lancer. The interior wasn’t quite as spotless as the outside, but it was still nice.

Alec got in without putting Provisional driver plates on the outside, which meant he had to be at least twenty. Or just an idiot. He put sunglasses on and with only one word fired up the engine.

“Address?”

I gave it to him, slightly put off by how tense he seemed all of a sudden. It made the drive fairly awkward. What do you say to someone who’s tense? Lighten up?

No, I decided. Bad idea.

“Are you, um, going on Friday night?” I asked tentatively as we drove into my street, sounding for all the world like a nervous pre-teen girl.

Alec gave a little half-smile as we pulled up in front of my house and I opened the car door a fraction.

“Di,” he said, like it was obvious. “Everyone will be there on Friday night.”

* * *

That night when I got home, the house was quiet.

“Dad?” I called, shedding the light cardigan I wore over my work shirt. There was no answer.

I slung the plastic bag in my other hand onto the kitchen bench. The contents made a muffled thump and rustle.

“Dad, are you here?” I called again, just to make sure.

When once again there was no answer I went to the top of the fridge, where a CD player was gathering dust. After switching it on, I turned it from ABC Radio to the CD setting and turned the volume way up.

The resulting blast of noise was gratifying. It was an old CD, but a good one.

Singing along – as much as I could – I unpacked the food from the shopping bag and set it on the bench. Sure, it was ten thirty, but I was hungry. Dad clearly wasn’t home, so cooking it was.

In truth, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. The last night – and day – had been ridiculously, crazily exhausting. Hunger was winning out.

I’d put the stove on, the pasta in and wiped my eyes from cutting up onions when there was a knock on the door. I turned the music and the stove down a little and went to the front door.

“Hey,” I greeted Tris, surprised.

He stood, hands in pockets, in my doorway. “Hi.”

I stepped backward to let him in. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re here, but… why?”

Tris shut the door for me and then leaned down to kiss me. I stood up on tiptoes and wrapped a hand around his neck to pull him closer, then felt him smile into my lips.

“I missed you,” he whispered. Then he straightened up and said, “And you didn’t reply to any of my messages. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

Cute. I smiled and then led him into the kitchen, where the onions were burning.

“Shit,” I exclaimed, stirring them quickly. Tris clicked his tongue and held his hand out for the spoon.

I gave it to him, sighing. He is a better cook than I am. “Fine.”

Retiring to a stool, I sat and watched him cook. Within ten minutes the pasta was cooking in with the sauce and he was serving it onto plates for us.

“Mmm,” I murmured appreciatively. He’d done something with the ingredients that I could never do. “You’re good.”

Tris twirled spaghetti onto his fork and smirked. “I get that a lot.”

“Oh you do, do you?”

He just grinned and put his fork in his mouth. I rolled my eyes and we ate in silence for a few minutes.

The CD was atill playing, a curiously abrasive background noise to what would otherwise be a romantic dinner for two. It skipped around to the first song again by the time we finished dinner and I was washing up.

“What is this?” Tris asked, pointing with his water glass at the player.

I couldn’t help giving him a look. Tris may not be into the same kind of music as me, but he knows how much I like Lamb of God. “Ashes of the Wake.”

He nodded and, washing up finished, I leant on the sink to remove my gloves.

“So…” Tris drawled. “Now what?”

I sighed dramatically. “I don’t know… I was going to lie on the couch with my shirt undone, but now that you’re here…”

He grinned as I trailed off, tugging at my collar and shrugging. Then, before I could react, he bent down to pick me up and threw me over his shoulder.

A normal girl would squeal and yell and beg to be put down, but not me. The last time I did that I got dropped on a bitumen road.

Turns out even your friends take hasty words literally when they’re drunk. And the only thing worse than an awful hangover is an awful hangover with bruises.

So, instead, I just laughed as I was carried toward the lounge room and the couch. On the way I heard my phone vibrate loudly on the bench and so Tris stopped briefly in order for me to grab it. The laughter died down a little when I read it.

You might want to bring the knives on Friday – A.S.

Unknown number, but at the moment I only knew one person with those initials who knew about Friday – and the knives. I made a mental note and then, as I was dumped gently on the couch, threw the mobile onto the coffee table.

“Who was that?” Tris asked, kissing me lightly.

I scrambled silently for a lie. “It was… uh… Chloe,” I told him, biting my lip and inhaling sharply when his kisses began to trail from my neck to my collarbone. “She tried to warn me to be a good girl when you’re here…”

Tris smirked and kissed me again, this time a little harder. “I really don't see the fun in that.”

A thrill shot through me as I thought again of the Masquerade, and realised just how much I believed that little platitude about bad girls having more fun. There was nothing good about Friday night, but I was still looking forward to it. A lot. Tris, however, didn’t need to know that.

"Neither do I," I replied with a smile, not realising it was probably the last honest thing I'd ever say to him.