Hooked [Complete]

49. Training

Dru had forgotten about Tyler entirely, but he was still talking to her.

"I mean it, girl," Tyler drawled. "Hearne will take point on the hunt with the most skilled bowmen. With Martin and Billy and Sean. I don't mind hanging back with you. Actually," he grinned, looking her up and down. "I wouldn't mind hanging out with you, anywhere."

Dru blushed a little as she lowered her attention to loading the crossbow. It was evident that Tyler's admiration wasn't for her hunting skills, which were nonexistent.

The blush to her cheeks was all it took. Hearne smelled her heated blood and he was between them in a second.

"Bratcher, I think you've forgotten two important things here."

Tyler put on his best good ole boy and grinned cockily. "Yeah, and what would those things be, Hearne?"

"First, I can tear your arms off like you can rip open a bag of chips. Secondly, this is my—" he looked at Dru and his mouth worked. Dru saw what he wanted to say on his face. This is my woman. But he modified at the last second. "My fiancee." His voice was mild, but his horns became suddenly visible on his head and his eyes and tats streamed green godlight.

Dru snorted. Carrie was right. He was trying to be a modern man, but underneath, he was still a feral beast, who didn't even want another man talking to his woman.

Tyler's chest deflated a little. He hadn't been at the party to see Hearne in his full glory. "Yeah, I guess I kinda did."

Martin slung a hand around Tyler's shoulders, and handed him a crossbow. "Come on, boy. This is target practice, not open season on engaged witches," he winked at Dru and she smiled at him.

But she gave Hearne a dark look for his territorialism. He rolled his eyes at her. "Get used to it. You're mine," he said mirthfully, standing back with arms crossed to watch her shoot again.

As she aimed, she said, "I'm just wondering...did you keep Carrie locked in a tower?"

"There weren't many towers, until about a thousand years ago," Carrie's twinkling voice said. Dru didn't turn around, but she could tell from the sounds Hearne made that Carrie had tugged on his braids, and offered him a mug of something that he swallowed heavily.

"Why didn't you ever teach me to shoot?" Carrie asked him sharply.

"You're too small to draw the kinds of bows we had back then," he replied automatically.

"Surely you could have made a smaller bow..."

"Fine, the truth is I thought you had no business with a bow, when you had me to hunt for you. I was a chauvinist, back then."

"And you're such a feminist, now?" Carrie said dryly.

"Dru has a bow in her hand, does she not?" Hearne laughed.

"If you want to shoot, I'll teach you, Goddess," Sean's voice rang out as he approached. His voice was full of Witchtimbre. Dru twitched. His one sentence uttered with Witchtimbre was much more distracting than Hearne and Carrie's "friendly" banter.

"Oh, I don't know, I'm not planning to hunt," Carrie said a little uncertainly.

"It's still fun to practice," Sean encouraged with the damn voice.

Dru swung around with the bow, her finger still on the trigger.

"I'm trying to concentrate, here," she snapped at Sean.

"Whoa." He glared at her and quickly pushed her loaded bow toward the ground. "And I'm trying to stave alive, here. That's a deadly weapon; don't shoot me by accident."