There is a Reason he wanted to avoid them

“We found him camping near the road,” the Hunter on Matt’s left replied. “He was travelling alone. We thought he should spend the rest of the night somewhere safe.”

Phoebe looked at the hands still holding his arms, then at the duffel being carried behind him. “Then take him to the road. He can find his own way from there.”

“That was my suggestion,” Matt said. For once, agreement with Phoebe offered something useful. He turned toward the Hunter beside him and tried to ease his arm free. “You’ve brought me here. Can I have my bag?”

Her grip relaxed, though she stayed close. On his other side, the second Hunter released him with an apologetic touch to his sleeve. “At least sit down first. You have been on your feet long enough.”

The concern earned a sharp look from Phoebe. “What is wrong with you? Since when do we bring boys into camp because they are tired?”

“He helped us,” said the Hunter carrying his duffel. “We walked into his perimeter, and he cut us loose.”

For a moment, Phoebe seemed to wait for the rest of that explanation. Her gaze travelled over the six of them, lingering on the muddy knees and leaves caught in their clothes. “His perimeter?”

“Snares and trip lines,” another answered. “Around his hammock. We did not see the first until we were already in it.”

Matt watched Phoebe’s expression change and wished the Hunter had found a less direct way to put that. Getting caught had made these six unpleasant enough before whatever was wrong with them took effect. Hearing about it apparently qualified Phoebe to be offended on their behalf.

“You let him trap you?” The question came quietly, with an edge that brought the others’ attention fully onto her. “All six of you?”

“We walked into them,” the Hunter nearest Matt corrected. “He was asleep.”

“He says he was asleep.” Phoebe’s attention settled on Matt, her lip curling as though she had already caught him in a lie. “What did you use, boy?”

“Cord.” Matt met her stare, too tired to dress the answer up for somebody who plainly intended to dislike it. Beside him, one of the Hunters drew a breath that might have become a laugh, then caught herself when Phoebe stepped closer. With another member of the patrol at his back, retreating would mean pushing past her. He shifted his footing instead, keeping Phoebe’s hands in view.

“Do you find this amusing?” she demanded, taking his refusal to move as further cause for offence.

“No. I wanted to leave.” His gaze flicked toward the duffel still hanging from another Hunter’s shoulder. Everything he needed was within reach, provided somebody would stop arguing long enough to let him take it.

“Then you should have kept away from our camp.” Phoebe followed the glance and moved into his path, apparently finding no difficulty in telling him to stay away while preventing him from doing exactly that.

“We brought him, Phoebe.” The Hunter carrying his duffel lowered it beside a tree and stepped forward. “He objected. If you want an explanation for his being here, ask us.”

For the first time, Phoebe looked away from him long enough to give one of her sisters her full attention. Her gaze dropped to the arm the other Hunter had placed across his path, holding him back from an argument he had never wanted while keeping Phoebe beyond immediate reach.

“Move aside.” The order came with an impatient gesture, but the Hunter stayed where she was.

“There is no need to speak to him like that.” Her earlier warmth had faded as she met Phoebe’s stare. “He was leaving when we stopped him. You cannot blame him for being here because we refused to let him go.”

Matt would have preferred almost anything to being the subject of that particular disagreement. Phoebe’s eyes narrowed as she looked from the Hunter in front of her to the others gathering beside him. One of them had taken a position near his shoulder; another remained a few paces behind Phoebe, watching her hands. The patrol had begun arranging itself around an argument Matt was increasingly certain he would not survive if it went badly.

What has he done to you?” Phoebe demanded, looking at the Hunter who had refused to move aside.

“Nothing. We brought him here, and now you are treating him as though he forced his way into camp.” The Hunter stayed beside Matt, close enough that her sleeve brushed his when he shifted to keep Phoebe in view. “He has already tried to explain.”

“You can answer for your own decisions.” Phoebe’s attention returned to him as she stepped closer, bringing the dried mud along her bracer into sharp view. “Six Hunters do not stumble into a boy’s snares and then bring him home like a guest. What did you do?”

“What, sleep? Set traps around my bed?” Matt kept his hands free at his sides, increasingly tired of being questioned as though she had already decided what answer would justify hitting him. “I was trying to get through the night without something eating me.”

“His hammock was behind the perimeter,” said the Hunter who had helped cut the others down. “His bag was beneath it, with his clothes and travelling things inside. We woke him.”

“And you believed whatever explanation he offered because he had a bed hanging nearby?” Phoebe turned toward her, but another member of the patrol answered before she could press the accusation.

“I examined the lines afterward. They were ordinary cord, tied to the trees. Nothing hidden in the knots or buried beneath them.”

“They held all six of you,” Phoebe snapped, her gaze moving across the patrol as though waiting for that to embarrass somebody into agreeing with her. “Did none of you think to question that?”

“Yes. I did.” Matt caught her attention before she could select another Hunter to berate. “Quite a lot, actually. Nobody seemed any happier about the question when I asked it.”

“Enough of your insolence.”

“He is trying to explain,” the Hunter beside him said. “You asked what happened. Let him answer.”

Phoebe turned sharply toward the Hunter defending him, who held her ground while Matt shifted far enough to keep them both in view. A fist closed beside Phoebe’s thigh. If she had doubts about him before, her sister’s intervention seemed to have made them worse.

“Whatever you have done,” she told him, “you will undo it.”

“Undo what?” Matt spread his hands, anger making it easier to conceal that he had no explanation either. “They walked into my traps. I cut them down, packed my things, and tried to leave. Then they dragged me here. At what point did any of that become my fault?”

“Phoebe, he did ask us to let him go.” The Hunter who had carried his duffel glanced toward him. “We should have listened when he—”

“Be silent.” Phoebe cut her off without looking away from Matt. “You have embarrassed the Hunt enough tonight.”

Objections rose around them. The Hunter between them turned toward her companion as another stepped forward to challenge Phoebe, leaving a gap on Matt’s right. Through it, his duffel lay against the tree where it had been deposited. He edged toward it while they argued, hoping to get the strap over his shoulder before somebody remembered that he apparently needed permission to leave.

“You will stay where you are.” Phoebe moved around the Hunter in front of her, following him into the gap.

“What do you want from me, then?” Matt stopped beside his bag and turned to face her. “I didn’t ask to come here, and I didn’t ask them to walk into the bloody ropes.”

Her hand shot to his throat. The shove drove him back against the trunk, but he caught her wrist and punched her in the face before she could settle her grip. Somebody shouted her name as Matt drove his knee into her stomach, tore her hand away, and followed her off the tree with another punch that split her lip.

The first breath hurt enough to feed his anger. After everything she had said, she had actually tried to choke him, and he wanted to hit her again. Phoebe’s return blow caught his cheek as he stepped in, turning his head without stopping him. He drove his shoulder into her chest just as a Hunter caught her upper arm, sending all three staggering sideways.

“Phoebe, enough!” Another member of the patrol seized her other arm while the Hunter who had carried Matt’s bag forced herself between them. Her hands pressed against his chest, but he tried to move around her, still watching Phoebe struggle to get free.

“Let him go!” Phoebe snarled, blood staining her teeth.

“Still haven’t had enough?” Matt rasped. He could feel the Hunter in front of him bracing her feet as he leaned against her hands, and somewhere beyond Phoebe another voice cut across the shouting.

“What is the meaning of this?” Zoë Nightshade’s voice carried between the tents, and the Hunter bracing Matt’s chest turned toward her. He stopped trying to get past as she entered the firelight with her bow in hand. Across from him, Phoebe was still testing her companions’ grip, blood wet along her split lip.

“Phoebe. Who struck thee?”

“The boy,” she said, jerking her chin toward Matt. “After the patrol brought him into camp.”

“After she grabbed his throat,” the Hunter separating them corrected. “He fought her off.”

At that, Zoë examined his neck, though her next words were directed to Phoebe. “Thou wilt stand down while I hear what happened.” Once the struggling stopped, she ordered the others to release her. Both stayed close as their hands fell away, leaving Matt to judge whether their lieutenant’s presence would accomplish what their grip had barely managed. “Lower thy fists, boy.”

“Would you?” His voice scraped painfully. He eased his hands down without taking his eyes off Phoebe, who had begun rubbing her wrist as though she were the one who had been attacked.

“We found him sleeping behind a trapped perimeter,” his escort said before Zoë could answer. “All six of us were caught. We threatened whoever had set it before we knew he was there, so he asked for an oath before coming close enough to free us. Once we were down, he packed his things and tried to leave. We brought him here.”

While she spoke, another Hunter offered Matt a waterskin and loosened the stopper for him. He accepted it, grateful for an excuse to stop swallowing against the dryness in his throat. The water hurt going down. A hand settled beneath his elbow when he winced, accompanied by a quiet reminder to take his time.

“And what did this oath require?” Zoë asked.

“That we would not harm him or take revenge, have somebody else do it, or falsely accuse him of an ambush. Those were his only terms.” His escort stayed beside him as she answered. “We agreed, and he cut us loose.”

Phoebe wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Six Hunters in a boy’s snares. And now they bring him water while explaining why he was entitled to strike me.”

The waterskin remained at Matt’s lips, but he had stopped drinking. Its owner kept her hand beneath his arm as she turned on Phoebe. “You were strangling him. Every blow you received was earned.” Her fingers steadied his elbow when he lowered the skin. “Did you expect him to let you finish because you are one of us?”

“Enough,” Zoë said. “I would hear about the snares.”

“They were ordinary cord,” another member of the patrol told her. “I checked the lines afterward. There was no enchantment I could find, and he took care bringing us down. None of us was injured.”

For a moment, the only sound nearby was Phoebe rubbing blood from her fingers. Zoë seemed less reassured by the answer than interested in the Hunter still steadying Matt’s hand.

“Then explain why all six of you wished to bring him here. He freed you after securing his own safety. What else occurred?”

“He was going to walk back to the road alone,” his escort said. “There were hours until dawn. We wanted him somewhere he could sleep.”

“Against his wishes?”

“We thought he would be safer.” The admission came reluctantly, and Matt felt her attention settle on the marks at his throat. “We should have listened when he asked us to let him go.”

Zoë’s questions were approaching something he would have liked explained himself. Being dragged through the woods by Hunters worried about his comfort had made no more sense than their earlier enthusiasm for his traps. Yet the longer she questioned them, the more closely they gathered around him, and the more closely they gathered, the less inclined she seemed to believe anything they said. Phoebe had only to stand there bleeding while Matt’s witnesses apparently disqualified themselves by offering him a drink.

“Could you ask me something about her attacking me?” He handed the waterskin back before he spilled it. “Or would that spoil it?”

“Thou wouldst do well to remember where thou art.”

“How could I forget?” Matt met her stare, ignoring the warning touch at his sleeve. Beyond Zoë’s shoulder, Phoebe made an impatient sound, but his escort spoke first.

“He has answered questions since we arrived. Nobody has asked whether he needs help.”

“I am trying to determine whether I can trust the answers.” Zoë addressed Matt directly this time. “Who is thy parent? Has thy voice ever swayed another’s judgement?”

“What does my parent have to do with her putting her hand around my throat?”

“Their attachment to thee requires an explanation.”

Like Matt had an answer for that, he was more concerned and weirded out over this than these bitches were.

“So does what Phoebe did,” his escort insisted. “We all saw it. He did not have to persuade us.”

“And now he scarcely needs to speak at all.” Phoebe stepped forward, drawing one of her companions across her path. “You will make every excuse for him before he has to offer one.”

Matt opened his mouth, but the Hunter beside him was already objecting. Another joined her, Phoebe raised her voice to answer both, and Zoë demanded silence while looking straight past him. After being questioned about everything except the reason he had fought back, he was apparently expected to wait while they argued over whether his answers would count.

“No, you are going to listen.”

The shout hurt. Matt faced Zoë, breath drawn for the rest of what he wanted to say, only to find her waiting. Phoebe had stopped arguing too. Her anger remained plain, but she turned toward him without another attempt to interrupt.

“Well?” Zoë prompted. “Thou hast our attention.”

He blinked between them, caught with an answer that suddenly seemed less urgent than the question of why that had worked. Beside him, his escort gave a small, encouraging nod, as though there were nothing strange about either Hunter deciding to hear him out. What the fuck had just happened?