The Hunter Beside Me

18: Apples

Owen

The mimic watching TV was too close to the front door for us to enter without being seen. I crept around the house, searching for another entrance with Becks, Emory, Lilla, and Bash trailing silently behind me.

A bead of sweat rolled down my spine as I rounded the corner and spotted the backdoor—faded white paint and dirty glass. If I had to, I could easily break the window or bust the wood, but I'd bet the mimics were too cocky to lock their doors, and we'd be able to quietly stroll in.

My stomach sank. I glanced back at Lilla, and she gave me an encouraging nod, but her mouth pulled down at the corners. She must've been thinking the same thing as me—we'd be gone soon.

I'd been a hunter, a spirit, and a man made of magical dirt. Over seventy years in this world, and they'd all been hard. I thought I'd be ready to go. Hell, there were plenty of times I wished for this to be over. Now, the thought of what I was leaving behind made my throat tight.

Glancing around, I made sure we were still alone before motioning for Becks and Emory to stay put. I walked past them and stopped beside Lilla. Her brow furrowed before I pulled her into a hug. A second later, her arms circled my waist and squeezed.

The heat had gone out of my anger a while ago, and I didn't want to go into our last fight without her knowing we were okay. Part of me knew, spell or not, there was a time I loved her. We weren't good for each other, but we had fun, and I would've been a hunter even if I hadn't met her. She didn't ruin my life.

Leaning down, I spoke so only she could hear, "I don't care why you spelled me. I forgive you."

Her eyes were glassy when she looked up at me and mouthed, "Thank you, Owen."

I pecked her forehead and turned to Bash, who was watching us with a tight smile. Closing the distance between us, he hugged me. "It's good that you told her." His voice was strained. "I'm going to miss you so much. I don't want you to go."

I stepped backward. "I'm not ready either, but this isn't the time to get emotional, you damn hippie."

He snorted and wiped his cheeks as I pulled him in for another hug. "I love you, brother."

His fingertips dug into my shoulder. "Love you, too."

Straightening up, I turned and hurried to the front of the group—time to get my head in the game. Becks grabbed my forearm as I passed, pulling me to a stop, but she was studying Bash and Lilla.

His arms were around her, and she held his face as she gazed up at him. Bash spoke softly, but I knew they were saying goodbye, and I realized how out of place this seemed to Becks and Emory.

"What the hell is going on?" Becks asked with Emory standing beside her, waiting for an answer.

I shrugged. "Just saying good luck. No big deal."

Her eyes narrowed, and I thought, why not? Wrapping my arms around her strong frame in a loose embrace, I said, "Be safe in there," and stepped away before I could think about how good it felt to have her pressed against me.

She looked at me strangely, but whispered, "You too."

Emory was staring, but I couldn't see the two of us hugging. Instead, I punched him lightly on the arm. "Be safe." His eyebrows shot up, and I held in a chuckle.

Becks pulled Emory in for a quick hug. "Don't get hurt."

"You either." Emory patted her back.

I took my spot at the front, glad hugging before a fight started with my last one. It was a little too touchy-feely for me, especially when we were supposed to be ready to kill.