Three
“Heads up!” Damon shouted. He lobbed an apple so big I could barely see his hand around it at Seth.
The stockier boy caught the apple with a solid thump against his palm. He gave Damon a flat look, considered the fruit, and took a bite.
“Maybe if you want to test our reflexes, something less likely to leave a bruise?” Gabriel said casually. He was leaning against the side of the old hunting cabin that was one of our usual haunts. The lichen-splotched wooden shack stood just a fifteen-minute walk from the manor and five minutes from the orchard, which the bunch of us had just come back from raiding.
Kyler poked his head out from inside the cabin. He glanced at me with a glint of curiosity in his gray-green eyes. “What did you all hunt anyway?” he asked. “I mean, assuming your fami
