Welcome to Shadowhunter Academy (Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy #1)(12)

“Ah, there you are,” said Scarsbury. “George Lovelace was beside himself. He wanted to assemble a search party for you.”

Simon regretted his spiteful thoughts about George’s horsemanship.

“Let me guess,” said Simon. “Everyone else said ‘Nah, being left for dead builds character.’”

“I was not concerned you were going to be eaten by bears in the deep dark woods,” said Scarsbury, who did not look as if he had ever been concerned about anything in his life, ever.

“Of course you weren’t, that would be abs—”

“You had your dagger,” added Scarsbury casually, and walked away, leaving Simon to call after him.

“My—my bear-killing dagger? Do you really think me killing bears with a dagger is a plausible scenario? What information do you have about bears in these woods? I think it’s your responsibility as an educator to tell me if there are bears in the woods.”

“See you at javelin practice bright and early, Lewis,” said Scarsbury, and marched on without looking back.

“Are there bears in the woods?” Simon repeated to himself. “It’s a simple question. Why are Shadowhunters so bad at simple questions?”

*

The days passed in a blur of horrible violent activity. If it wasn’t javelin practice, Simon was getting thrown around a room (George was very apologetic later, but that did not help). If it wasn’t dagger work, it was more swordplay and humiliating defeat before the blades of tiny, evil trainee Shadowhunters. If it wasn’t swordplay, it was the obstacle course, and Simon refused to speak of the obstacle course. Julie and Jon were growing noticeably cool at mealtimes, and a few comments about mundies were passed.

At last Simon staggered wearily to the next exercise in futility and sharp objects, and Scarsbury placed a bow in his hands.

“I want everyone to try to hit the targets,” said Scarsbury. “And, Lewis, I want you to try not to hit any of the other trainees.”

Simon felt the weight of the bow in his hands. It had a nice balance, he thought, easy to lift and manipulate. He nocked the arrow, and felt the tautness of the string, ready to release, primed to let it fly along the path Simon wanted.

He drew his arm back, and it was that easy: bull’s-eye. He fired once more, and then again, arrows flying to find their targets, and his arms burned and his heart pounded with something like joy. He was glad to be able to feel his muscles working and his heart thumping. He was so glad to be alive again, and able to feel every moment of this.

Simon lowered his bow to find everybody staring at him.

“Can you do that again?” asked Scarsbury.

He’d learned to shoot arrows in summer camp, but standing here holding a bow, he remembered something else. He remembered breathing, his heart beating, Shadowhunters watching him. He’d still been human then, a mundane they all despised, but he’d killed a demon. He remembered: He’d seen something had to be done, and he’d done it.

A guy not so different from who he was now.

Simon felt a smile spread across his face, hurting his cheeks. “Yeah. I think I can.”

Julie and Jon were both much more friendly over dinner than they had been for the last few days. Simon told them about killing the demon, what he remembered, and Jon offered to teach him some swordplay tricks.

“I would really love to hear more about your adventures,” said Julie. “Whatever you can remember. Especially if they involve Jace Herondale. Do you know how he got that sexy scar on his throat?”

“Ah,” said Simon. “Actually . . . yes. Actually . . . that was me.”

Everybody stared at him.

“I might have bitten him. A tiny bit. It was more like a nibble, really.”

“Was he delicious?” asked Julie, after a thoughtful pause. “He looks like he would be delicious.”

“Um,” said Simon. “He’s not a juice box.”

Beatriz nodded earnestly. Both the girls seemed very interested in this discussion. Too interested. Their eyes were glazed.

“Did you maybe climb on top of him slowly and then lower your head to his tender, pulsing throat?” Beatriz said. “Could you feel the heat radiating off his body and into yours?”

“Did you lick his throat before you bit him?” Julie asked. “Oh, and did you get a chance to feel his biceps?” She shrugged. “I’m just curious about, you know, vampire techniques.”

“I imagine Simon was both gentle and commanding during his special moment with Jace,” said Beatriz dreamily. “I mean, it was special, wasn’t it?”

“No!” said Simon. “I can’t stress that enough. I’ve bitten several Shadowhunters. I bit Isabelle Lightwood and Alec Lightwood; biting Jace was not a tender and unique moment!”

“You bit Isabelle and Alec Lightwood?!” asked Julie, who was starting to sound freaked-out. “What did the Lightwoods ever do to you?”

“Wow,” said George. “I imagined the demon realms were fearsome and terrifying, but seems like it was pretty much nonstop nom nom nom.”

“That is not how it was!” Simon said.

“Can we stop talking about this?” Jon demanded, his voice sharp. “I’m sure you all did what you had to do, but the idea of Shadowhunters being prey for a Downworlder is disgusting.”