Andrea Sanders, legendary hunter, is the kind of legend that only the brave and stupid dare to whisper about at night. After ditching the foster system at sixteen, she follows her father's footsteps into the only life she's ever known: hunting down...
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I swallowed hard, shifting awkwardly on Bobby's couch as I heard the car engine outside cut. New people. New hunters. More people that would know my true identity. The thought alone left a bad taste in my mouth, no matter how many times the boys told me these were good people. I'm sure they were, but in the last six months I'd gone from being a hunting myth to a real person with something to lose.
I didn't like it.
"Oi!" Sam called, pulling Dean's attention from where he was sitting at Bobby's table doing research. "Girls are here!" I could have told them that. I'd heard the car almost a mile down the road. He seemed excited, reiterating just how important these people must be to them. Swallowing down the twinge of jealousy in my gut, I flicked my knife open and closed in an attempt to calm my nerves. Cass had shown up not long after we had, and he joined the welcome party that made their way to the foyer.
Bobby, however, didn't follow. Instead, he rolled his wheelchair over to me and cleared his throat. "Alright, Ando. What's got ya fiddlin with weapons?" I closed the knife quick, fingers curling around it until my knuckles turned white.
"Nothing." He narrowed his eyes and I shrugged. "You know how I am with new people."
His hand found mine, covering both it and the knife within. "I've known them for years. They're good people-"
"I know. I know. You guys have told me over and over. It's still," I paused with pursed lips, "trusting. Not my forte. It took the boys torturing me before I told them who I was and that was only because of you." I swallowed, thankful for the comfort his touch brought me. "Bobby, I've got a real bad feeling about all of this."
"Now who's workin off feelings?" The reference made me chuckle, remembering a simpler time: a lonelier time. "Don't worry about that just yet. Your body's just prepping for a war it never should have had to fight in the first place. Nothing about that's gonna feel right." He squeezed my hand three times, just as he had since I was little. Three squeezes to say 'I love you' without uttering a single word. Managing to pull a smile from me, he continued. "Until then, try and talk to these people. Get to know 'em. I promise they'll have your back until your dying day."
"That day may be sooner than you think."
Letting go of my hand, he whacked my arm. "Don't talk like that, idgit. Now come on." Joyous reunions could be heard from the front of the house. "I've got some family for you to meet."
Bobby left me alone, rolling ahead to greet the guests. I threw the knife back into my pocket with a sigh as I stood to follow. "Bobby, you old rust bucket, come here!" A woman's voice called out excitedly. I hadn't been seen yet as I leaned against the entryway quietly observing. The woman hugging Bobby was in plaid like the rest of us, a beautiful smile covering most of her face. She was around his age and had brown hair with a tint of red in the right lighting.
