The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner by Stephenie Meyer Page A

wiser to keep my mouth shut, though. Too much had changed.
    “Don’t write him off yet, Bree. He’s the best, like I said. Give him a chance.”
    Riley was giving me romantic advice? This could not get weirder. I bobbed my head once and muttered, “Sure.”
    “See if you can talk to Fred. Make sure he’s on board.”
    I shrugged. “I’ll do what I can.”
    Riley smiled. “Great. I’ll pull you aside before we leave, and you can tell me how it went. I’ll keep it casual, not like
     tonight. I don’t want him to feel like I’m spying on him.”
    “Okay.”
    Riley motioned for me to follow and then headed back to the basement.
    The training lasted all day, but I wasn’t part of it. After Riley went back to his team leaders, I took my spot beside Fred.
     The others had been divided up into four groups of four, with Raoul and Kristie directing them. No one had picked Fred for
     a side, or maybe he’d ignored them, or maybe they couldn’t even see that he was there. I could still see him. He stood out—the
     only one not participating, a big blond elephant in the room.
    I had no desire to insinuate myself into either Raoul’s team or Kristie’s, so I just watched. No one seemed to notice that
     I was sitting out with Fred. Though we must have been somewhat invisible, thanks to talented Fred, I felt horribly obvious.
     I wished I were invisible to
myself
—that I could see the illusion so that I could trust it. But no one noticed us, and after a while I could almost relax.
    I watched the practicing closely. I wanted to know everything, just in case. I wasn’t planning on fighting; I was planning
     on finding Diego and making a break for it. But what if Diego wanted to fight? Or what if we had to fight to get away from
     the rest? Better to pay attention.
    Only once did anyone ask about Diego. It was Kevin, but I had a sense that Raoul had put him up to it.
    “So, did Diego end up getting fried after all?” Kevin asked in a forced joking tone.
    “Diego’s with
her
,” Riley said, and no one had to ask who he meant. “Surveillance.”
    A few people shuddered. No one said anything more about Diego.
    Was he really with
her
? I cringed at the thought. Maybe Riley was just saying that to keep people from questioning him. He probably didn’t want
     Raoul getting jealous and feeling second best when Riley needed him at his most arrogant today. I couldn’t be sure, and I
     wasn’t going to ask. I kept quiet, as usual, and watched the training.
    In the end, watching was boring, thirsty work. Riley didn’t give his army a break for three days and two nights straight.
     During the daytime it was harder to stay out of the mix—we all were crammed so tightly into the basement. It made things easierin one way for Riley—he could usually catch a fight before it got ugly. Outside at night, they had more room to really work
     around each other, but Riley was kept busy darting back and forth to catch limbs and get them back to their owners quickly.
     He kept his temper well, and he’d been smart enough to find all the lighters this time. I would have bet that this would spin
     out of control, that we’d lose at least a couple of coven members with Raoul and Kristie skirmishing head to head for days
     on end. But Riley had better control of them than I had thought possible.
    Still, it was mostly repetition. I noticed Riley saying the same things over and over and over again.
Work together, watch your back, don’t go at her head-on; work together, watch your back, don’t go at him head-on; work together,
     watch your back, don’t go at her head-on
. It was kind of ridiculous, really, and made the group seem exceptionally stupid. But I was sure I would have been just as
     stupid if I’d been in the thick of the fight with them rather than watching calmly from the sidelines with Fred.
    It reminded me in a way of how Riley had drilled into us our fear of the sun. Constant repetition.
    Still, it was so dull that after