Chapter 3

The day I walked into the Hunter's Guild was the day news arrived that Lucien had been captured.

The main hall was buzzing.

"Is it true? We actually caught the Vampire Prince?"

"Not caught. Just wounded. He got away."

"I heard a silver arrow hit him, nearly killed him right here in Mistport."

"Who went in for the finishing blow?"

"Nobody knows. The blood trail went cold near Old Apothecary Lane."

I stood at the back of the crowd, listening.

Moren handled my registration.

The young hunter in charge of registration, Elias Hawke, looked up at me. "Name?"

"Vera," I replied.

"Age?"

"Seventeen."

"Specialties?"

Before I could answer, someone nearby scoffed. "A girl from an apothecary? What could she possibly be good at besides brewing cough syrup?"

Low laughter rippled through the hall.

I turned to look.

The speaker wore the Guild's grey uniform with three silver pins on his chest, which proved he'd killed three vampires on his own.

His name was Martin Hale.

I'd met him before. In my previous life, a low-rank vampire bit him during a hunt, and he'd begged me in tears to save him. I felt sorry for him and gave him my purification tonic.

Later, to curry favor with Lucien, he sold my location to the vampire elders.

When I was dragged to the dungeon, he stood outside and couldn't even look me in the eye.

He'd said, "Vera, I had no choice."

Seeing him again in this life, I found him quite as insufferable as ever.

Elias frowned. "Martin, knock it off."

Martin shrugged. "I'm reminding her that being a hunter isn't a game for little girls."

I walked to the edge of the training ground and picked up a practice crossbow. "The Guild has a rule for registration, doesn't it? Any recruit who passes three tests earns probationary hunter status?"

Elias blinked.

He probably hadn't expected a girl who looked like she couldn't hold an umbrella steady to bring up the Guild's entrance trials on her own.

Martin laughed louder. "Go ahead."

He leaned against a wooden post at the edge of the training ground, arms crossed, watching me. "First test, silver crossbow marksmanship.

"Second, identifying vampire ranks.

"Third, a real fight."

He looked me up and down, deliberately dragging out his words. "But sweetheart, Guild trials aren't like herb lessons at some apothecary. Back out now while you still can."

I ignored him and turned to Elias. "Can we start?"

Elias hesitated, glancing at Moren.

Moren's face had gone pale.

Of course he was worried.

In my previous life, he'd hidden me for seventeen years precisely to keep me away from hunters, vampires, and everything connected to Silverthorn.

But this time around, hiding wouldn't work.

Lucien had already come to Mistport.

The vampires had already caught the scent of my blood.

If I kept cowering behind the apothecary, I'd end up like before, pushed along by others, tricked into love, and shoved into the sacrificial pool.

I needed to step into the open.

I would stand where every last one of them could see me.

Then I would let them know the truth.

The Silverthorn bloodline wasn't dead yet.

Elias finally nodded. "Alright."

He handed me a training crossbow with silver-tipped bolts.

It was heavy, three times the weight of the small one I kept for self-defense at the shop.

Martin let out a whistle. "Hold it steady. Don't drop it on your foot."

I raised the crossbow.

In my previous life, I really couldn't hold one steady.

Back then, whenever Lucien taught me to handle weapons, he'd stand behind me, wrap his hands around my wrists, and gently correct my form.

He'd said, "Vera, don't push yourself so hard. You don't need to be strong. I'll protect you."

I was lulled by his sweet words.

I put down my blade and my crossbow and placed my life in his hands.

It wasn't until I was pushed into the sacrificial pool that I understood that a woman who hands her safety to someone else might as well be offering her throat to the knife.

This time, I wouldn't make the same mistake.

At the far end of the training ground, ten wooden targets rose one after another.

Each bullseye was barely half the size of a palm.

Elias said, "Ten silver bolts. Hit six bullseyes to pass."

Martin grinned. "If she hits three, I'll eat the crossbow."

I didn't look at him.

I simply raised the crossbow, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

The first silver bolt flew true, dead center.

Martin's laughter died.

The second bolt hit.

The third bolt hit.

The fourth bolt hit.

I didn't pause.

Bolt after bolt screamed from the crossbow like cold lightning splitting a rainy sky.

Ten shots. Ten hits.

The last bolt punched straight through the tail of the one before it, splitting it clean in half before burying itself in the bullseye.

The training ground went dead silent.

Elias stared at the targets, speechless.

Martin's smirk had curdled into something ugly.

I set down the crossbow and looked at him. "Want me to cut it into smaller pieces for you?"

Someone in the crowd couldn't hold back a laugh.

Martin's face turned scarlet. "Don't get cocky. Hitting targets doesn't mean you'll make it back alive."

I nodded. "True.

"So what's the second test?"

Elias snapped back to attention and quickly had someone bring out three sealed black glass vials.

Each contained a blood sample from a different vampire.

The Guild used these to train recruits in identifying vampire ranks.

Scent, color, flow speed, and reactions to silver powder could all reveal a vampire's strength and clan affiliation.

In my previous life, it took me a long time to learn any of this.

To help Lucien deal with the Elder Council, I'd read nearly every clan codex the vampires possessed.

Back then, I believed I was helping Lucien reclaim his dignity.

Now, all that knowledge had become my blade to cut him open.