Heart of Ice

Chapter Six

Song: Memo- Years & Years

Silence surrounds me as I sit on the branch of the tree, eyes closed and body still. The wind gently ruffles the loose strands of hair that have fallen out of my braid, and off in the distance, I can faintly pick up the sound of a wood pecker hitting its mark on a tree. Rapid hits, directly on its target. Sometimes rhythmic, but every single hit remains strategic. Zoning in on the sound, I try to scheme a method to have the same traits. Since the day I started training, I was known for being diligent and strategic in my moves and had a knack for sneaking so quietly that it was hard for others to suspect me. Meditating in the middle of nature and zoning in on natural strategies worked as an enhancer during my younger training days, and most of the time, when the nightmares became worse or I needed stress relief, it was the only thing that relaxed me and put me back in touch with myself and the world.

Everything is calm in the woods.

Until, from behind me, I pick up on distant footsteps.

Goosebumps spread along my arms as I quickly jump to the highest branch in the tree. The leaves cover me enough that I can't be seen from below, but I can see for miles away. Nobody has entered my field of vision yet, but their footsteps are growing closer. Then, a tall, hooded man steps in front of the trees connected to the center of the woods, only a few feet away from the tree I'm perched in. He walks slowly, examining every inch of his surroundings, and once he stands a little ways off from my tree, I swiftly fall through the tree, landing on the man's shoulders as I wrap my legs around his neck. He grabs my calves, trying to pull me off as we tumble to the ground, and I twist his arms behind his back before pinning him to the ground. From the way his head had slammed into the dirt, he spits out dirt particles as the dust from the dirt falls back to the ground.

"Call me skeptical, but I don't usually see hooded men in the woods unless they're murdering someone or buying drugs," I growl, pushing his head back to the ground. "Who sent you and how did you find me?"

"Well, Buffy, if you had stayed put like you were supposed to, I wouldn't have had to come searching for you like the damn FBI." Hunter hisses back, and I freeze, heat rushing to my cheeks.

Oops.

I lift his head from the ground, meeting his intense glare, and roll my eyes as I get off him. Hunter stands and dusts the dirt off him before facing me. "What are you doing out here anyway?" His eyes rake over me. "And why are you dressed like that?"

I glance down at my outfit before rolling my eyes again. To me, there is nothing wrong with a black sports bra and leggings for training. In fact, I think it's the perfect outfit to train in.

"I was training. And what's wrong with my outfit? They're sports clothes," He looks over my outfit again before forcing his jacket on me and zipping it up. Sometimes, I have to genuinely fight the urge to rip his head off. "Why are you out here? Aren't you supposed to be on the lookout back at the motel?"

We had managed to stay at the motel for almost four days, and the surroundings had been strangely quiet. Nobody showed up to fight us, and we didn't have any attempted kills from Demetrius and Bloodbound either. The more days that went by, the more the both of us grew paranoid. We tried to convince ourselves that they just didn't know where we were, but I think we both know they're waiting for the perfect time to execute their attack.

"Touche," He mumbles, sighing as he sits on the log in front of the tree I had been in. I sit beside him, the scent of his cologne filling my nostrils from his jacket. No matter how nice it smells, I need to remember that, despite discussing the minimal information I need to know about our safety, he has ignored me for the past four days. If he wants to play mean, I can play just as well. He glances over at me. "I guess training is a good idea. Wanna do one on one?"