Ripper (Hunter #1)(4)

“Hey, Kelsey,” I heard someone say.

I glanced over and saw a young werewolf walking toward her car carrying a stack of books that I was surprised she could see over. Ellen Yardley was a student of Liv’s and I ran over to grab a couple of those books hindering her sight.

“Thanks.” She was a lovely seventeen-year-old who would graduate in the spring. “It’s not the weight that bothers me, but boy, are those things unwieldy.”

I laughed as she opened her trunk. “Is your teacher trying to kill you?”

We dumped the books in the trunk. “No, it’s a book drive. It’s my service project. I’m collecting books for a big sale. All the seniors have booths and we’re donating the proceeds to the homeless.”

“That’s great, Ellen.” My high school had been more about keggers and pot than helping the public. I wondered if Ellen knew those same people she was helping would likely kill her if they knew the truth about her. That was the world I’d grown up in. I kind of liked Ellen’s more. “I think y’all are doing some good work.”

“Well, I’m glad you think so because I expect to see you there buying stuff,” the teen replied with a saucy smile. She hopped in her old sedan. “See you later!”

I walked back to the building, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. I waved at some of the teachers heading out. They were supernaturals, too. They accepted me and most of them knew my background. They were just people trying to live their lives and do the best they could for their kids. I hated my father so much in that moment I had to shove the emotion down or I was sure the look on my face would scare the kids.

I opened the door and walked down the hall to Liv’s room and decided to think about another emotion. I always felt it when I walked these halls and people called out cheery greetings. It was acceptance and sometimes it felt awfully close to redemption.

Nope, I was still gonna kill her. She was making me tear up and I couldn’t accept that. I’m not the kind of girl who cries.

I threw open the door, and Liv was sitting at her desk grading papers. She looked up with a sunny smile that immediately turned wary.

“Okay,” she said in her most patient voice. “Maybe I shouldn’t have talked to Helen but…”

My eyes narrowed. “No buts, Liv. You sold me out.”

She snorted and rolled her brown eyes. “You’re such a drama queen. It’s one little case. You know you need something of substance. You can’t spend your whole life hiding from the world.”

“No, I can’t hide from anyone if you keep giving away my hiding spot,” I pointed out. She was tapping her foot, the three-inch heeled shoes making a rhythm of judgment on the tiled floor. “Damn it, Liv, I’m not a missing persons expert.”

Her eyes softened and she smiled. “Yes, you are. You’re an everything expert when it comes to this. You have amazing instincts, Kels. You just don’t trust them anymore. You have to stop punishing yourself.”

Sitting against the edge of her desk, I crossed my arms defensively. “It seems like you’re the one punishing me.”

“Again with the overdrama. You’re worse than my students.” She sighed and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “She needs you.”

“And what if I can’t find her daughter?” I gave up on the angry approach. I couldn’t keep it up with her.

She leaned beside me, letting our shoulders touch. We sat like that when one of us needed comfort. “Then you’ll at least have tried and Helen will know someone gave a damn. I’m not asking you to succeed, Kelsey. I’m asking you to try.”

“Fine.” How was I supposed to say no to that?

Liv gave me a hug. “Excellent. Now that we have that out of the way, I can move on to the freakier news.” Her pretty face twisted into a rueful grimace. “I’m moving to public school as soon as possible.”

“But you love this school.” She was the one lying because I happened to know this was her dream job.

“Yeah, well, at public school you don’t get memos like the one I got today.” She handed an important looking piece of paper my way. It was meant to catch the eye, printed on bright yellow paper so no one could possibly miss it. “That memo informs all teachers that no matter your chosen method of birth control, you should also begin using a condom.”

“And you’re getting this advice from the principal, why?”

“Because we have a fertility god in third grade this year who came into his powers over the summer,” she said with a playful frown. “Apparently being around the little sucker makes you ovulate. Mary, the third grade teacher, is already two months along.”

I tried to place the name, but all I could see was a fifty-year-old with a sweet smile. That couldn’t be her. “But school’s only been in session for two months.”

“Yup. That’s the point. It gets worse. Mary swears she went through menopause five years ago. Does Costco sell condoms? I’m making Scott put two of those babies on if he wants to touch me.”

“Be really safe, go for three.” I sighed because the day was getting away from me. I’d already gone over all the information the super-organized Helen Taylor had left me. I had a list of all of Joanne’s contacts and every bit of information her mom could think of. I had her driver’s license number and her social security number. I had the names of her roommate, her RA in the dorm, and a schedule of her classes. The first thing I’d done was search some of the social networking sights for any sign of her.