Authors: C. J. Hill

Slayers (5 page)

BOOK: Slayers

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Her suitcases sat at the foot of the unoccupied bunk bed. Two girls stood by the far wall, talking to Jesse and Dirk. Both were toned and tanned, wearing cut-off shorts and tank tops that showed off their athletic bodies. Both girls also had shoulder-length, badly bleached-blonde hair. They looked like they were trying to be carbon copies of each other.

The shorter of the two appraised Tori in the way a girl sums up a rival. “I’m Lilly,” the girl said and gestured at her copy. “This is Alyssa.”

“I’m Tori.” Tori sat down on the bed. The mattress hardly gave at all. She might as well be sleeping on the floor. She jiggled it and wondered if her parents could FedEx an air mattress to camp.

Lilly turned down the iPod on her bed. “So you’re a senator’s daughter? You live on Capitol Hill?”

Nobody actually
lived
on Capitol Hill. It was made up of office buildings, not subdivisions, but Tori didn’t point that out. “No, my dad just works there.”

“Hmm,” Lilly said as though proving a point. “Do you get to hang out with the president?”

“I’ve met him,” Tori said. “But he doesn’t hang out much with high school kids.”

Lilly tilted her head. “Meeting him isn’t such a big deal. I bet he meets thousands of people each year.”

Tori slid off the bed. “I never said it was a big deal.”

Her answer made Dirk laugh, but Lilly’s eyes narrowed.

Well, camp was getting better all the time. Now Tori was stuck with girls that hated her on sight. It was sort of like high school, but without her friends around to deflect any of the cattiness hurled in her direction. The only reason Tori didn’t leave right then was that she didn’t know how to get her suitcases back to the parking lot.

Tori cast a look at the guys, hoping to seem grateful. “Thanks again for helping with my luggage.”

Jesse headed to the door. “As soon as you’re ready, I’ll show you around.”

Tori glanced at her Rolex—another thing she shouldn’t have brought, but had forgotten to take off beforehand. “I thought I was supposed to go to orientation.”

“That’s for people in the main camp. Dr. B asked me to get you familiar with the routine out here, to see what you can do.”

See what I can do?
There had been a note of challenge in his voice.

At that moment, she knew she would stay—at least long enough to show him and everyone else that she could kick his butt in tae kwon do, or archery, or whatever else he was good at. Because she was surprisingly talented at all of it.

She lifted one of her bags onto the bottom bunk. “Okay. Give me your number, and I’ll text you when I’m done unpacking.”

“I’m right next door. Just come get me.” Jesse took hold of the doorknob, then turned back. “And change into some jeans and shoes. We’ll be riding.”

He and Dirk both left without saying anything else.

CHAPTER 3

I
nside their own cabin, Dirk leaned against the side of his bunk. “Well?” he prompted Jesse. “What do you think?”

Jesse let out a grunt. “I think we’ve unearthed Barbie’s long-lost sister. She even comes complete with matching luggage.”

Dirk laughed. One of the things he liked about Jesse was his ability to work vocabulary like “unearthed” into casual conversation. It probably came from having teachers for parents. “Yeah,” Dirk said, “she doesn’t seem like one of us.” Her outfit, her makeup, her perfectly styled long, brown hair—that’s how girls dressed to go to photo shoots, not summer camp. The rest of the girls in 27 hardly ever did their hair, let alone put on makeup.

Although, to be completely honest, that was probably Dirk’s doing. Back when they were thirteen, he’d gotten so tired of waiting around for Lilly to beautify herself every morning, he stole her cosmetic case and refused to give it back until camp ended. Lilly had just borrowed Alyssa’s stuff, but all the girls had cut down their morning routines after that.

Jesse walked over to the only window in the room. Through it, you could see the side of the girls’ cabin. “I bet Tori has never done a day of real work in her life. She’ll probably act like a spoiled princess the entire summer and refuse to do anything we ask.”

“Which is why I’m glad she’s on your team,” Dirk said.

Jesse turned away from the window to glare at him.

Normally Dirk would rib him some more. After all, Dirk had put up with Lilly’s prima donna behavior for years. Lilly could tackle you during a game, then chew you out for breaking one of her fingernails. It was about time Jesse had someone to drive him crazy. But Dirk couldn’t help being suspicious of the latest arrival. “If she’s one of us, why did it take her so long to come?”

Jesse shrugged. “Maybe she was too busy touring the world with Mumsy and Dadsy to be bothered.”

“Maybe she’s not really one of us.”

Jesse walked to his bed and sat down. “You heard what Dr. B said about her. Do you think her age and athletic ability are a coincidence?”

Dirk shook his head. He didn’t think it was a coincidence, but that didn’t mean Tori was legit, either. Everyone at camp already had counterparts except for Jesse and him. Dirk had always figured Ryker Davis was Jesse’s counterpart because Dirk couldn’t imagine having a counterpart himself.

Counterparts had a link that let them sense things about each other. They understood one another in an unspoken, almost mystical way. Dirk didn’t believe there was anyone like that for him. He didn’t want it, either—somebody knowing him so well. And besides, even if he did have a counterpart, it wouldn’t be some pampered socialite. Tori probably didn’t know how to do her own laundry, let alone have the ability to sift through what was going on in his mind.

“It might not be a coincidence she’s here,” Dirk said. “She could be a plant, trained by someone who wants to know who we are and what we’re doing.” He sat down on his own bed with an irritated thud. “Dr. B is too trusting.”

A frown creased Jesse’s brow while he mulled over Dirk’s words. “You could be right. We should be careful about what we say and do until we know for sure.” He paused. “But we’d do that anyway.”

Jesse lay down and stretched. Apparently, he thought the matter was closed. He picked up a book from the side of the bed and opened it.
The Iliad.
Only Jesse would bring ancient Greek literature to camp. Dirk was firmly ignoring his own reading list for next year’s English lit class. What was the point of summer if you had to do homework?

He walked restlessly to the window and stared at the girls’ cabin, even though he knew it wouldn’t look any different than any other time he’d seen it. He couldn’t help himself. Tori was inside, and he had no idea who or what she was.

CHAPTER 4

T
he camp brochure had said to bring either a sleeping bag or sheets. Tori had gone with sheets—five hundred thread count. She tucked them around the mattress, ignoring how forlorn their turquoise blue stripes looked against the blunt pinewood wall.

Lilly wandered over and peered into her open suitcase. “You brought an iron?”

“Yeah, in case they didn’t have one here.”

Lilly snorted. “Have you ever actually been to a camp before?” Tori pulled out some jeans and put them into the nearest dresser. “Yes, just not one that was so …” She tried not to make the word sound like an insult. “Rustic.”

Alyssa joined them, shaking her head at the contents of Tori’s suitcase. “Gardenia-scented body spray? Okay, that’s only going to be useful if it has insect repellant in it.”

“She’s not trying to repel insects,” Lilly said. “She’s trying to attract guys.” Lilly leaned toward Tori, her blue eyes hard and unwavering. “Don’t use any on Jesse. I have dibs on him.”

Alyssa added, “And I have dibs on Dirk.”

Dibs?
Well, she had to hand it to Lilly and Alyssa for getting right to the point. None of that pretending to be your friend and spreading rumors behind your back that Tori typically got when girls thought she was competition. She was used to that reaction now, numb to it, actually.

Back in junior high when her braces and glasses had come off—back when Tori changed from being a tomboy who barely took time to comb her hair into an actual girl—the jealousy had been a painful shock. So many girls had turned on her; girls she thought were her friends. But now Tori shrugged off the barbs. It was just part of life. She only had a couple of real friends—the rest were just acquaintances to be wary of.

Tori put another pair of jeans into the dresser. “You’ve got to know by now; it doesn’t do any good to call dibs on guys. They like whatever and whoever they want. They’re like cats—but with less shedding.” Tori smiled to soften her words.

Lilly didn’t return the smile.

Great. Was it too much to hope that the other girls in the cabin would have steady boyfriends back home?

Tori glanced around the room, but saw only a few pegs to hang jackets on. Which meant it had been pointless to bring hangers. Could she even fit all her clothes into her half of the dresser?

Alyssa went back to her bed and a celebrity magazine she’d been reading, but Lilly kept watching Tori sort through her suitcase.

“You’re not going to need an iron. Or hangers. And if you brought a bell to ring for the cabana boys to bring you drinks while you lounge by the lake—trust me, you can leave that in your suitcase, too. This is an extreme sports camp. We get dirty, and wrinkled, and sometimes—” Lilly smirked, enjoying the next word, “injured.” She turned and walked back to Alyssa’s bed. “But you’ll find that out soon enough.”

Was that a warning or a threat? And what sorts of extreme sports was Lilly talking about? Body-slamming volleyball? Rowboat derby racing? Whatever. Tori wouldn’t shy away from any of it. Lilly and her evil blonde sidekick could find out the hard way that they shouldn’t underestimate her just because she dressed nicely.

Tori finished unpacking in silence. She pointedly put her iron on the top of her dresser where it would be easy to reach. Then she changed into riding clothes, refusing to feel awkward for disrobing in front of Lilly and Alyssa.

That’s right, she wanted to say, I have designer underwear, too. Because nothing low class ever touches my rear end. When Tori finished dressing, she spritzed on some gardenia body spray, then left without saying good-bye.

“Good luck with your horse!” Lilly called after her, but she didn’t sound like she meant it.

Tori tromped across the path to cabin 26 and went up its stairs. Jesse opened his cabin door before she knocked. As he stepped outside onto the wooden porch, his eyes ran over her, stopping on her riding boots. He still wore his dusty Nikes.

Her sneakers were for running; just like her hiking boots were for hiking, and her water shoes were for when she went to the lake. Half the point of any outfit was wearing the appropriate footwear.

“You’re ready?” he asked, but it wasn’t really a question. Jesse walked down the steps, and she followed after him. He moved down the trail with long, easy strides. He hadn’t changed clothes, but she noted as though it were a new detail, the way his jeans—basic Levi’s—had that worn, comfortable look to them … how they fit perfectly on his lean, muscular legs.

She forced her gaze to his face, to the strong lines of his jaw and his dark eyes.

“We’re going to the archery targets first,” he said, “then the
shooting range, then the stables. The advanced fencing instructor won’t get here for a few more days, so we’ll skip that for now.” He glanced at her boots. “You’ve ridden before?”

“I have my own horse.” He was a palomino named Blitzer, which she boarded at their country club’s stables.

Jesse nodded like he’d expected as much. “Mr. Reed takes care of the horses here. We call him Booker. He doesn’t say much, and he comes off gruff, but he knows horses. He also knows everything there is to know about this camp, so don’t get on his bad side.”

They walked past the large building. A metal dome sat perched on its roof. “What’s inside there?” she asked.

“You don’t need to know that right now.” He sounded like some government operative in a Hollywood movie.

“I thought you were showing me around.”

“I am.” He pointed to a trail that cut through the forest in the opposite direction. “That leads to the lake.” His hand swept toward a log cabin with two entrances. “Those are the bathrooms. There’s a limited supply of hot water, so we have a system: you get yourself wet, turn off the water, lather up, then rinse off. If you use more than your share of hot water, the rest of us carry you down to the lake and throw you in. That’s not an idle threat, by the way. Lilly gets dunked every year.”

“Okay,” Tori said.

“We go running every morning at seven.”

“How nice for the rest of you,” she said. “I’m not a morning person.”

He smiled at her firmly. “You will be starting tomorrow.”

“I run in the evening,” she insisted.

“Great, we do that, too. You can go with us tonight.”

They went running twice a day? Talk about overzealous. She had no intention of running with them at either time. For her, running was a time to unwind, not some sort of social event. She would think
of some tactful way to explain that later. Or better yet, she would just avoid the rest of them until after they’d gone on their nightly excursion.

A few minutes later, she and Jesse came to the archery range. A row of targets had been pinned onto the front of hay bales. Jesse took a compound bow and a quiver full of arrows out of a shed and handed them to her. “Let’s see how many you can put into the bull’s-eye at thirty meters.”

She nocked an arrow into her bow, then sent it flying toward the target. It hit dead center. “One …” she said, and nocked another arrow, took aim, and released. It landed next to the first arrow. “Two …”

He watched her, unimpressed. “Can you do it faster?”

She sped up for her third and fourth arrows. They joined the first two. She turned to him in satisfaction, but he only nodded.

“Okay, let’s move back to the seventy-meter line.”

She had expected some surprise from him, some admiration. His expression registered neither. Which irked her.

Everyone in her PE class had been impressed when they’d done an archery unit and Tori effortlessly made the bull’s-eye each time—and that was without ever practicing. Archery didn’t seem that difficult to her. You aimed. You shot. The arrow did the rest of the work.

Her PE teacher, Ms. Wong, had told her she should join the archery club. Of course Ms. Wong had also told Tori she should join the basketball, track, and cross-country teams. She
owed
it to the school, in fact. But Tori had had enough of team sports back in junior high.

Her school’s teams had been populated by the set of girls who’d turned against Tori. She was probably the only girl in junior high basketball history who was constantly fouled by her own players.

Besides, despite Tori’s athletic ability, she had no intentions of ever becoming a jock. Athletes were just more muscled versions of actors, only there to entertain people.

She hadn’t decided on a career yet, but she wanted a line of work that was refined, intelligent, and respected. Something along the lines of First Lady. Or maybe an ambassador to a country where guys had irresistible accents, like England, Ireland, or Australia.

Jesse walked to the seventy-meter line.

Tori followed, then turned and squinted at the hay bale. She nocked an arrow, took aim, and let it hiss across the distance to the target. It barely made it to the bull’s-eye. She put in another arrow.

“Faster,” Jesse said.

She lowered the bow. “Look, if you have somewhere to be, you don’t have to do this. I don’t mind if you don’t show me around.”

Patiently, as though it should have been obvious, he said, “I’m not telling you to go faster because I’m in a hurry. I want to see your accuracy under pressure.”

She nocked another arrow into her bow, annoyed, and let it fly. It landed just outside the bull’s-eye. She had missed because she’d rushed it, but she didn’t slow down. Her third arrow missed the center altogether.

She shot three more arrows in quick succession, and only one reached the bull’s-eye.

Jesse grunted his disapproval. “You need more practice.”

She lowered her bow. “And maybe I would practice if there were any point to it. But when was the last time someone needed to defend themselves against a bunch of angry hay bales with a bow and arrow?”

He took the bow from her, nocked an arrow, then without taking his eyes off her, he shot at the target. His arrow, impossibly, hit dead center.

“It’s not about defense. It’s about eye-hand coordination, reflexes, and knowing where your target is at all times.” Without waiting for a response, he walked the distance to the target and pulled out the arrows. After he’d finished putting the equipment back in the shed,
he motioned for her to follow him again. “Let’s go to the shooting range.”

She trudged after him, glaring at his back, but not pushing herself to catch up with him.
Knowing where your target is at all times
. Boy, he took himself way too seriously.

She wondered how old he was. At first she had guessed seventeen, but the way he talked—so sternly—he was probably eighteen. When guys got that old, they thought they were adults. Real men. He would probably spend the entire month talking down to her.

She wanted to point out that she hadn’t signed up for archery or any shooting classes, but she didn’t. If he wanted to see her marksmanship, she’d show him. She could fire off a round at seventy-five yards and never miss the center of the target.

They went inside the shooting range. A chubby, middle-aged woman sat at the front desk, her curly black hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was reading a book, but looked up and smiled when they came in. “Well, aren’t you a pretty thing! Victoria, right?”

Tori smiled back. “I go by Tori.” Being a senator’s daughter didn’t usually make her such a celebrity, and it was a little discomforting that everyone knew who she was. A lot of students at her private school were kids of congressmen or ambassadors. It was no big deal. She blended in with them. Here, she stood out.

The woman leaned forward, keeping her finger tucked in her book to save her place. “Welcome to Dragon Camp, honey. You getting situated all right?”

Tori nodded politely. “Yes.”

“I’m Shirley, resident range master and professional mom. Technically, I’m only Bess’s mom, but I claim all the kids.”

That made her Dr. B’s wife. Apparently the camp was a family affair.

Shirley kept looking her over. “All of this can be overwhelming at first. You let me know if you need anything.”

BOOK: Slayers

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