"You look familiar."

A curious male voice sounded above me, and I barely glanced away from my screen to acknowledge him. A zombie army was heading straight towards my sunflower garden of doom and I could guarantee that wherever he was planning on going with 'you look familiar' was nowhere near as interesting to me as those tiny cartoon monsters.

"I have one of those faces."

Did I, though? It had never really come up before, but it was the nicest thing I could say back to him. Hopefully, he'll get the hint and move on.

"No, I think I know you from somewhere," He continued, dropping into the seat beside me. "I just can't remember where. Maybe it's from-"

"If you say your dreams, I'm not going to be held accountable for my actions."

Dark grey eyes met mine with an intensity that made it impossible to stop the shiver that ran up my spine. That was never a good sign; a warning that trouble was on its way and now I had given this guy the attention he wanted. Too bad there was something in his eyes that made me stare, and not just because they reminded me of the sky before a storm hit. Maybe the storm had already arrived as it became clearer. He was scared, and not just because of my threat.

"Well now you've mentioned it," He smiled, the moment was broken as he oozed the type of self-confidence that made it clear that line had worked for him in the past. "That's not it, but if you'd like to feature in them tonight I know a few ways you can inspire me."

Tracker.

It was so obvious now I was focused on him. It wasn't just self-confidence he was projecting, it was a full-on alpha male vibe that made my stomach roll and a bit vomit burn at the back of my throat. Trackers were, all the same, way too much time spent around the werewolves and shifting animals their kind were created to deal with. Much like how Slayers ended up being as creepy as the vampires and undead creatures they lurk around.

"Unlikely, mutt keeper." I rolled my eyes as I leaned as far away as possible from him in my chair as I returned to my game.

Of course, our types are pulled together and more than that, he hadn't yet worked out I was part of his secret world. Do I look familiar, yeah idiot. I do. That fear in your eyes matches the fear in mine and I want no part of whatever trouble you're in or in the process of tracking down.

"What did you say?" He demanded, his tone losing the charming facade he'd had a second earlier.

"Miss Bunting?" We both turn to look at the light fae standing beside the counter. "Please come this way."

She smiles, glowing in that ridiculous way they do when they're happy. The unaware people around us would give credit to good lighting and a healthy complexion only we know better. I force a smile as I stand, tucking my phone into my purse as I am glad to be trapping myself in a room with Little Miss Sunshine rather than staying beside the Tracker; even if he is likely to be visiting me in my dreams tonight. Before I can put any distance between us, his hand is around my wrist and he's standing much too close beside me. Looking up at him now, a few new feelings start to flutter around my stomach.

"You're Elise Bunting?" I am almost offended at how he asks this and tug my hand free as the fae calls my name again.

"Guess I do look familiar after all," I smirk, moving quicker than I need to towards freedom and enjoy the moment.

I hated being a Bunting, with this situation is currently being excluded from years of what my Father calls teenage angst. Following the fae down the corridor, I don't look back and hope that Tracker has heard of me for good reasons, like my record for sneaking out of Huntington's Academy; the school we're all sent to learn some kind of survival skills before being sent our doom. My brother's god complex is even worse than my Fathers so I doubt he would be a friend of the family unless he knows Penny Grimm in which case her tastes have improved since our Academy days.

Daring to look back now, I'm glad I do as he's coming after us and as the fae steps into her office, I follow quickly and slam the door shut behind me. Her eyes are wide and alarmed and I smile, shrugging slightly as I feel for the lock which clicks into place as she stands behind her desk. We both hold our breath as he knocks, and sigh in relief as he retreats.

"Friend of yours?" She asked, the pep back in her step as she directed all that good energy crap my way.

"Never met him before in my life." I forced a laugh, which she politely giggled along with as she motioned to the chair in front of her.

"So how can I help you today, Miss Bunting? You seem to have submitted a lot of paperwork, multiple late applications, though none of which I think you are suited to. I've been a career advisor for many years, and I know we can get you onto the right pathway."

For the second time today, I realise the person I'm faced with has no idea who or at least what I am. Has trying not to be a Hunter dulled whatever transmission we give off to the supernatural world?

"Are you interested in law? You seem the kind who seeks justice."

I stare at her blankly for a few seconds. Shame those fairy senses aren't telling her what I actually am. Justice isn't quite the word I'd use for what we do, but she isn't far off. I bet humans love her career advice and all that intuition she has about them. A hundred years ago her kind would be making them all pay for this so-called kindness by stealing their firstborn.

"Not quite. I was thinking more along the lines of-"

"Oh of course. You like to help people. We have a range of community service courses, councillors, and people with disabilities. That kind of thing. Hm, you don't really like children do you? Teaching would be out, but maybe you could be a social worker?" She rambled, suddenly thrusting all sorts of colourful brochures at me.

Maybe my Father knew I was coming here today and set this up to make me suffer?

Then again, with the Tracker out there maybe this is all Mums doing. Her not so subtle hints about dating and finding the one to spend whatever length of life I have with, have been driving me mental lately. She also knows I'll refuse to match up with another Hunter to keep Dad happy and thanks to a certain Slayer I met at my graduation, of course, it would be a Tracker she'd try to set me up with.

"Oh, oh I'm sorry." The fae, well, Daisy as her name badge reveals, is suddenly silent. Her face is slowly altering to a perfect shade of pink and she gathers up her brochures. "I didn't realise. How can I help you, Hunter?"

"What?" I frowned.

"The Tracker, you're a Hunter. You're here on official business." She explained.

"No. I'm here because I want to study. I want a new career path."

This just seems to completely confuse her.

"You're serious?" Daisy asked after a few minutes of head-turning and not so subtle mumblings to herself. Then she started to laugh again. "I'm sorry, but your kind has a duty. I've never seen another Hunter, Tracker or even a Slayer here unless it's related to a disturbance or investigation."

"I don't want that," I assured her. "I'm here for me. I don't want to be a Hunter."

"Of course you do!" Her frown mirrored my own. "Oh child, going against our nature never ends well. It isn't something you can just walk away from."

"I'll decide that. Just submit all of the applications. I don't care what I do, just whatever has places still available."

"Elise, if I may. You do not want this. I've seen kids like you before, fresh out of the Academy, scared and alone. Go find your family, a friend, someone to mentor and help you adjust to the real world." Daisy moved to my side, the sympathy she felt washed over me like a bad smell. "Which Academy did you go to? I have a friend, she's a librarian at Yates and in special circumstances, they've let students redo their final year. Give yourself some time to discover who you are and what you can do."

"I hope this isn't how you counsel all your prospective students." I looked at her for a second and realised just how pointless this had ended up being. "I'm not scared. I just don't care about a century-old treaty dictating our lives. Thanks for your time."

Yet again that damn piece of paper has found a way to ruin my life. As if being related, four or so generations to its creator, Alistair Bunting, wasn't bad enough, it ensured that the people I care about were killed, hurt or in my currently absent brothers case, kidnapped. For as long as things have gone bump in the night or been the villain in folktales, we Hunters, and the Trackers and Slayers have existed to keep the monsters in check. There were enough of us already, never mind our short life expectancies. I didn't need to join the ranks of doomed and end up like my sibling or worse.

She doesn't stop me as I leave, and with that mess over with my first instinct is to get something alcoholic into me to block out any voices in my head that have decided she's right. Passing through the reception, the Tracker is nowhere to be found which should be good news only I could sense him nearby. Keeping my head down, I slipped on my sunglasses and headed towards the car park. Getting off campus and to the nearest bar was my priority so the muffled sounds of a fight that came from between two buildings were not where I needed to go.

Only I did.

I found the Tracker with a new friend, or maybe an old one. Who could tell at this point and I leaned against the wall to simply observe how this disagreement was going to play out. Barely two punches later, the Tracker was in trouble and as he mumbled some bullshit about the treaty, violations, prayed to the gods, and something about an Alpha wolf shifter, I decided I had to step in. The Tracker needed to be put out of his misery.

"Excuse me, do either of you know where the library is?" I called out, as the shifter threw his fist right into the Trackers face with a blood-curdling crack.

He spun around while the Tracker fell with a groan; lips twitching as he snarled at me and a small trickle of red ran from the edge of his right nostril. Maybe the Tracker got in at least one good shot. Rage burned in the beasts gaze as I was given the once over, and using the back of his hand he rubbed his nose with a loud snort.

"So much for no fucking backup." He spat at the Tracker, before sniffing my way. "Hunter."

"I generally just go by Elise," I shrugged. "And what's your name?"

"She isn't with me" The Tracker argued, attempting to get back to his feet.

"Wow, throw me to the wolves there moron. I was going to help you, but whatever. I'm out. Good luck to you both."

The wolf between us growled and I took that as my queue, starting to walk away. Too bad the mutt followed and since he made enough noise to wake the dead, preempting his position and my next move was easy to do. My fist slammed into his jaw as I spun around, the snap that followed more satisfying than I'd ever admitted. The mutt was nearly double my size, and as much I would love to talk myself up, the surprise factor was the only thing I had going for me and I just lost it. If he came at me again, well hopefully the Tracker had more of a plan than I did.

Thankfully he did, appearing out of nowhere and into the space between me and the beast. He took a shot before the mutt could recover from my hit; the thick silver band of the handcuffs slapped onto his wrists a second later as he took the place of the Tracker on the floor.

With the werewolf contained, his keeper stood there panting over him, sweat running down his forehead before he cautiously rubbed his jaw and slowly opened it. The Tracker did it a few more times and lifting his shirt, and wiped his face which smeared the blood down the side of his face like a bad face painting. Too bad it only gave him more of a rugged, tough look. With his wild, dark hair that fingers would get lost holding onto, it was hard to ignore that little flare of attraction deep in my chest.

"I didn't need your help." And with those words, that flame was extinguished.

"What you're meant to say is, you're welcome." I rolled my eyes at his lack of appreciation and we both let out a not so subtle sigh of relief as the moonstone in the cuffs began to weaken the beast. It was almost sad how fast the fight left him until I saw the bruise appearing on the Trackers face and I was thankful I hadn't earned one of my own.

"Why are you even here?" He demanded.

"That's none of your business."

"Kind of is when I'm trying to work a case and the mention of a Bunting has my shifter making a run for it. Especially if you aren't here for him too."

"To me, it looks like everything has worked out for the best. So you two enjoy your time together, and I'll enjoy never seeing either one of you again!" I give a little wave and decide to get the hell out of there, only he's following me again. "Can you take a hint?"

"Look, Elise, I get it. Your brother is missing and-"

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"Ah, everything? He's one of the shifters wanted for questioning over your brother's last sighting. Marcus is involved in a lot of bad shit. I'm needing him for something I'm doing with Alpha Selene," he paused as if waiting for me to recognise the name which I don't. "Which is why I can't let him be taken in for processing just yet."

It's not hard to put two and two together, as the unspoken question lingered in the air between us. I looked at him. The Tracker looked at me. Was I really going to just walk away without the prize?

You betcha.

"There are enough people looking for my brother, I am not here for that," though I did wonder if my Dad knew about the mutt. "You and your Alpha are welcome to him."

"Is this a joke?"

My mouth opened and I closed it just as quickly deciding not to give him an answer and headed in the direction of the car park instead. He's just like a guard dog, one that decided to escort me off-campus. He may as well start growling as he chased me away from his new toy, and the similarities between him and the creatures he handled were becoming laughable.

"You're leaving?" He does a terrible job at hiding his disbelief over the fact that I am letting him have what he wants with no further argument.

"Why does this seem to bother you so much?"

"I just figured he was why you were here and did I mention the part about a suspect in your brother's disappearance?" The Tracker skipped to cut me off, stepping to the side as I tried to go around him. "Why aren't you all over him?"

"For starters, not my type. Maybe the question should be why are you so invested in all of this? Do you want me to run off and turn you into the Council?"

Though the likelihood of me talking to any of those self-important idiots on a powertrip was even less likely than me getting warm and cuddly with the wolf, the Tracker didn't need to know that.

"No. I thought the Bunting family were close. You're not the little sister I was expecting and Jordan-"

"Oh, it's a Bunting thing. Right. How do you even know Jordan? That asshole would never be friends with you, no offence, but you're a Tracker. Are you wanting to try and make a claim for some kind of reward that Dad's put out?" Rolling my eyes, I am kind of disappointed he seemed to have puppy dog eyes over my last name and possibly my brother.

It isn't really that surprising though. If it's not what we are, the Treaty or my parents attempting to ruin my life, it's my brother. Not that he's the one ruining anything now. The longer I'm around this Tracker, the more I want to put as much distance between us as possible.

"Why do you think we wouldn't be friends because I'm a Tracker? I was in his year, I went to Huntington's. We were good mates." Great, I've offended him and the name drop of the Academy we went to sent a shiver up my spine. "And why do I get the impression I care about his disappearance more than you?"

"What gave you that idea?" I sighed. "If you're pals, well lucky you but be careful of putting your trust in him. He only associates with Hunters so there must be something he benefited from being around you. Also, I know all his friends. I've never seen you before."

He looked thoughtful for a second, before a little hurt and I kind of felt sorry for the guy as he must have realised I was right. Only I did too, and that slip of empathy vanished. Suspicion took its place and I decided there was something here worth investigating. I hadn't seen him before and sure, he would have graduated three years ago but I had made it my mission while my brother was still at school to make it hell for him. Flirting with his nearest, and dearest had been one of my top ten extracurricular activities.

This Tracker was, unlike the mutt in handcuffs behind us, very much my type. There was no way I wouldn't have noticed him and enjoyed finding out where all that confidence came from. There was just something about that stupid smirk on his face that made me want to slap it off and then kiss him.

"I don't think you've told me your name. Hardly fair since you know mine." I pointed out, giving myself a free pass to study him with the cover of flirting.

Despite the attraction I was content to keep a leash on right now, I couldn't deny my gut instinct and the warning that he was only going to lead to trouble. That kind of red flag was usually my green light, only something about today and him felt, different. Today, I would pay attention to the warning and as if he was struggling with his own internal battle I saw the second the Tracker hesitated. His eyes trapping mine and I wondered if could read my mind as I had the feeling he was seeing more than I ever wanted anyone to.

"Logan, Logan Murphy." He practically purred, looking even smugger with himself. "Maybe if you attended a scheduled class or stayed on campus you'd remember me, Bunting. Though with the amount you drink, I'm not surprised. Maybe you are the Elise Bunting I have heard all about."

The name meant nothing, just like his words. So I did what I always did when people underestimated me; I let them. I smiled sweetly, looked up at him from under my lashes and felt his whole body tense as I put my hand on his arm.

"This has been swell. Really. I just think you should know, your werewolf is running away, and Logan. You have no fucking idea who I am."

Logan turned, following the direction I was looking as sure enough, the cuffed creature was making a run down the footpath that led off-campus. He cursed and sprinted after him while I finally made it to my car. I just made it onto the street when I saw the pair arguing and beeping the horn, I got their attention as I pulled up beside them.

"A bit of help?" Logan asked, struggling with the werewolf.

Despite the cuffs and moonstone, he seemed quite aware of what was going on and desperate to get away with more energy than I'd expect him to have. I didn't blame him, being around that Tracker was hard work and I would put money on Alpha Selene not being a treat either.

"Sorry, but you just said you didn't need any help and besides, I'm late for my big plans of day drinking, and then I need to ignore all my responsibilities like the good little Bunting I am." I enjoyed the look of surprise on his face as I pushed the button for the window to go up; even the wolf seemed confused with what was going on.

"Elise! No, wait. Stop!" Logan went to open my door the second he realised I wasn't joking and with a rev of the engine gave a little wave before taking off. "Elise!"

Within seconds they weren't even a dot in my rearview mirror and despite everything, I wouldn't be forgetting the name Logan Murphy anytime soon.