Hunter

20. How to Forget Details

Day forty-seven of my imprisonment. My new morning routine consisted of waking up before dawn, when the streetlights winked out to greet the sun as it appeared on the horizon. As silly as it seemed, watching the sunrise every morning gave me a sense of peace - a rare feeling nowadays.

I had a few hours to kill before Simon arrived with his breakfast sandwiches. After the first time he came, I didn't expect him to show up again, convinced that the Alpha would revoke the company. But when he arrived the next day, bearing more food, I realized that this would be a regular thing.

I suspected Rebecca pulled a few more strings to allow Simon to keep coming here.

But Simon wouldn't be here until mid-morning, at least, so I entertained myself by throwing my mirror shards at the makeshift target on my wall. It was difficult - it was the knuckles on my right hand I'd broken, my dominant hand, so my aim wasn't at cultivated on my left. But I took the opportunity with seething pleasure, seizing the chance to make my left-hand throw just as deadly as my right.

When I got tired of that, I took a shower, which was also quite difficult to do with only one hand. It's amazing how much you don't realize you rely on having two working hands until one is taken from you.

I then would sit down on an armchair with one of the books Simon brought for me. After I told him my origin story, he pulled out the books he'd come in with, telling me about them. Apparently, they were texts on supernatural beings of all kinds, written by supernatural beings, not the silly folklore or myths humans tell.

He'd also brought me a clock, which was great, since telling time by the sun's position in the sky was nearly impossible. No matter how much I stared at it, no sudden realization of the time had dawned on me. I don't know how ancient humans were able to do it. So, of course the clock was useful.

I glanced at it now, averting my gaze from the book I was reading, A Summary Of The Supernatural. It wasn't the most original title. I bet I could have come up with something far better, like Guide To Crazy or What To Do When You've Pissed Off An Entire Race Of Mystical Creatures.

Also, it was nearly ten. Simon appeared unfailingly by nine every day.

Obviously, he wasn't coming today.

I sighed, disappointment swelling through me. I shouldn't be surprised. It was only a matter of time before the Alpha revoked my one source of company. I wonder, how long will it take before he inevitably storms in here and steals my books? It doesn't matter, anyways. I shouldn't care about Simon, not at all. He's a werewolf. I kill werewolves.

Don't fraternize with the enemy, Reese.

Still, there was something about Simon I had liked, something that reminded me of...