Hunter pretended he didn’t notice. But after dinner was done, he lingered in the kitchen, washing dishes, playing with Casper, giving his dad and uncle time to finish shooting the shit and get down to real business.

Then he crept up the stairs, easing around the step that creaked, holding his breath as he edged as close as he could to his father’s office door.

Their voices were low, and he could only make out a few words, none of which made too much sense.

He eased out a breath, then took another one in. He slid a bit closer.

“Hunter.”

Damn it.

His father’s voice. Hunter didn’t move. Maybe this was a bluff.

Then the door opened. Uncle Jay stood there. “Really, kid?”

Hunter sighed and looked up at him from where he crouched on the floor. “I don’t get what the big deal is. You said it was just surveillance.”

“Come in here,” his father called. He didn’t sound happy.

Hunter shoved to his feet and went to the doorway.

His father was sitting at his desk, two files on the surface in front of him. Both were closed.

“First,” he said, “I’m not happy about the spying.”

“But you never tell me anything! I’m sixteen years old, and—”

“And you’re acting like a teenager. Not yet, Hunter.”

“I can handle it.”

“Like you handled those boys at school?”

Hunter flinched. “I don’t know what that means. What do you want me to do, break their necks? Get expelled? They’re just playing stupid pranks. I can’t exactly kill them for that.”

“What if I told you they would grow up to be criminals? What about then?”

“What about then?” Hunter glanced at Uncle Jay, but there were no answers there. His uncle was leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded.

His father leaned forward in the desk chair, bracing his arms on his knees. “If I told you they would grow up to be criminals, that they could potentially hurt people, could you kill them then?”

Hunter licked his lips. This felt like a trick question, and the wrong answer wouldn’t be something he could take back.

His father didn’t wait long. He shook his head. “You’re not ready.”

“I’m not ready because I didn’t say I could kill my classmates? You’re not making any sense. What does this have to do with one stupid surveillance job?”

“Sometimes watching leads to action.”

Hunter felt like the right answers kept springing up in front of him; he just couldn’t grasp them quickly enough. “Fine. If it comes to that, I’ll stand back and let you guys do the action part.”

“That’s not how this works. If you’re there, you’re there. Nothing halfway, right?”

Hunter nodded. “Right.”

“This is a different surveillance case.” His father flipped open the file folder. “These aren’t full-blown Elementals causing major problems.”

“Then . . . what are they?” Hunter reached for the file, but his dad snapped it closed.

“They’re teenagers. Your age. They haven’t come into their full powers yet.”

“So it’s safer—”

“No.” His dad laughed, but there wasn’t any humor about it. “There’s nothing safe about this one. Not from what I’m reading. These could be four of the most powerful Elementals to surface in years.”

“What have they done?”

“I don’t know yet. There are conflicting reports about deaths and threats and . . . hell, I can barely wrap my head around what’s going on in that town. But really, Hunter, it’s not about what they’ve done.”

“What’s it about?”

His dad leaned back in his chair. “It’s about what they can do.”

Hunter stared at him.

“Say I agreed, and I took you along as a decoy. You’re a teenager; you could fit right in.” He glanced in the file again. “Your mom’s folks even live right in the area. We wouldn’t have to think of an excuse for you to be there.”

“Yes,” said Hunter. “Yes. I’ll do it.”

“And what if you determined they were as powerful as these reports say? Could you kill them?”

Could he kill complete strangers? “If they were using their powers to hurt people, I would do what I had to.”

“What if they’re not using their powers to harm anyone?” said his father. “What if they’re good kids? Boy Scouts? What if they help people?”

Hunter swallowed. “Then . . . why would you kill them?”

His father smiled, a little sadly. “You’re not ready.”

“But—”

“Enough, Hunter. We have work to do.” He lost the smile. “And if I catch you spying again, you’re not going to like the results. Do you understand me?”

Hunter walked out and slammed the door behind him—before realizing he was probably driving his father’s points about immaturity home.

He went back to the kitchen and grabbed his backpack. He should probably put the weapons back before he got in trouble for that, too. He slammed the door to the basement, too, wanting to punch a hole in the drywall. He jammed the key into the gun locker door and punched the buttons, practically breaking a finger in his fury.

Only when he reached into his bag was he careful. He pulled the zipper free on the table and looked inside.