Fur 'n' Fang Academy: The Complete Series: A Shifter Academy Adventure

by C. S. Churton

  “Oh, gone shy?” he asked. “Why don’t we buy you some drinks?”

  He nodded to his wingman, who I hadn’t even noticed standing at his shoulder. They were both mid-twenties, wearing crumbled suits and shirts with the top button undone – office workers stopping for a drink on the way home, probably. And apparently they’d decided we were on the menu, too. I leaned close to him and spoke into his ear.

  “Why don’t you and your buddy head over to the table in the corner–” he glanced over his shoulder to the empty table, and I hardened my voice, “–and stay there?”

  His face screwed up in anger and he glared at me.

  “I was just being nice, you bitch.”

  I don’t know how long Cam had been listening to our conversation, but suddenly he was towering over the man, his jaw clenched.

  “What the fuck did ye just call my girlfriend?”

  “I called her a bitch,” the guy said, turning around, “because she’s a–”

  He didn’t finish that sentence because he accidentally walked right into Cam’s fist, which Cam just happened to be stretching at the time. The punch hit the guy square in the jaw, snapping his head back. He fell to the ground in a heap, out cold.

  “Hey!” the barman said, reaching for something behind the bar. “What did I say about no trouble?”

  Cam held his hands up and stepped away from the downed office worker.

  “Nae trouble here,” he said. “He must’ve just slipped.”

  He made eye contact with the wingman, the one who wasn’t busy taking a nap right now.

  “No trouble,” the other guy agreed, nodding so quickly he might have given himself whiplash. I wasn’t sure whether it was Cam or the barman who had him freaked out, but I figured sticking around to find out wasn’t a great idea.

  I wrapped my arm through Cam’s.

  “Why don’t we head on to a club?”

  The barman dipped his chin to me in a curt nod, and I steered my over-protective boyfriend out of the door before he could do anything to get us permanently barred.

  Chapter Eight

  “I think I’m going to die,” I said, rolling over and burying my head under my pillow. Then my stomach churned, and I leapt from the bed and made a dash for the bathroom.

  After a good ten minutes, I staggered back out again, and glared at Cam.

  “I thought you said shifters were more resilient than mundanes?”

  “Lass, the amount you knocked back last night was enough tae take down a bull elephant.”

  “Really?” I leaned back against the wall. “I don’t remember.”

  “There’s a surprise,” he said, staggering past me into the bathroom. I slapped his shoulder on the way past and he swayed slightly. I snickered. At least I wasn’t the only one feeling like crap.

  I hunted around for some clean clothes and got dressed while Cam was in the bathroom. Dean’s bed was vacant – either he’d got an early start, or spent the night in Madison’s room. Mei looked every bit as crappy as I felt when she rolled out of bed and hammered on the bathroom door.

  “Hurry up!”

  “Alright, lassie, dinnae lose yer hair.”

  “Hey, what’s that?” I said, ignoring the pair of them and looking at a folded sheet of paper lying in front of our door.

  “What time is it?” Cam asked, emerging from the bathroom. “Are they still serving breakfast?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, scanning the sheet, “but I don’t think we’re going to be eating this morning.”

  I showed him the letter. It was short and to the point, with the words, ‘My office, immediately,’ scrawled in Shaun’s hand.

  “Ah, shite,” Cam said, plucking it from my hand. “We’re in the crapper, aren’t we?”

  The short answer to that was yes. We dragged ourselves down to Shaun’s office as quickly as we could – doing a pretty good remake of Dawn of the Dead through Fur ‘n’ Fang’s corridors. They were deserted, so I figured we weren’t the only ones who’d over-indulged last night.

  We made it to Shaun’s office without throwing up, which was no small miracle in itself, and I rapped on the closed door.

  “Come,” Shaun’s voice summoned us from within. I shared a look with Cam and Mei, then pushed it open.

  Shaun looked every bit as pissed off as he sounded. We crossed the threshold, and we’d barely shut the door behind us when he started.

  “What the hell do you three think you were doing last night?”

  I’d answer that if I could remember exactly what I’d been doing, but anything beyond The Wolf and Sheep was a blur. Oh. Wait.

  “It wasn’t Cam’s fault,” I blurted.

  “Really?” Shaun said, glaring at me. “And I suppose that man just fell over, all by himself?”

  “He insulted Jade,” Cam grumbled.

  “I don’t care if he insulted every shifter in your entire pack! You do not risk the exposure of this academy. We have worked hard to maintain a peace with the local mundane population, and I will not have you jeopardising it!”

  “All he did was hit him,” I protested. Jeopardising the peace was a bit of a stretch over one fist fight, especially when the guy had it coming. “And it wasn’t like the barman didn’t know what we were.”

  “And I suppose that makes it okay to go round getting in fist fights? Do you have any idea how many witnesses there were?”

  “But he didn’t shift!”

  “No, he just knocked a man out with a single punch, without breaking a sweat.”

  I bit my lip. I didn’t get the sense I was helping, and I wasn’t sure pointing out that plenty of people could have dropped him with one punch was going to make things any better. Also, the raised voices were making my head pound.

  “I’m sorry, Instructor Miller,” Cam said, hanging his head – I suspect because the room was spinning too much for him to focus on the instructor’s face. “I shouldnae have lost my temper.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” Shaun said. He sank back, perching on the edge of his desk. “Now, I’ve spoken to the owner of The Wolf and Sheep, and smoothed things over. He’s not pressing charges, with the local police or the enforcers – this time. But if it happens again, I’ll call the enforcers myself, am I clear?”

  “Yes, Shaun,” we all muttered.

  “Good. Get out of here, and get down to the main hall. You’re all on cleaning duties for the rest of the day.”

  I had more sense than to complain, so I slunk towards the door with the other two, counting myself lucky not to be doing a spell in the academy’s dungeon.

  “Not you, Jade.” Shaun’s voice halted me, and I turned reluctantly back to him. “I want a word with you first.”

  Mei gave me a sympathetic look, then the pair of them disappeared through the doorway. Traitors. I shut the door and wandered back over to Shaun’s desk. Best just to get it over with.

  “You missed your session with me last night.”

  “I’m sorry.” I hung my head and made a concerted effort to actually look sorry, but it was hard when half my focus was on not curling up into a ball and cradling my head.

  “Worse, you missed your session with Professor Underwood.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.”

  “You damned well should be, Jade.”

  I jerked my head up. I’d never heard him use language like that, not even when I tried to escape. He blew out his breath loudly.

  “You know how important those lessons are. We can’t risk your magic being exposed. I thought I made it clear to you that nothing is more important than getting your powers under control.”

  “Yeah, I guess that includes actually having a life.”

  Shaun’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the desk, and then smoothed his hands out again.

  “I tolerated your juvenile behaviour last year, because I understood that you were under a lot of pressure, but I cannot continue to allow your reckless attitude.”

  “Reckless attitude!” I said,
glaring at him. “It was one night, Shaun. I’ve been working my arse off every night since I got here, don’t you think I’m entitled to one night off?”

  “I think you’re too entitled by far,” he said, glaring back at me. “What makes you think you have the right to risk everything we stand for here, just because you want a night on the town?”

  “Look,” I snapped. “I didn’t ask for t–”

  “You didn’t ask for this,” Shaun cut me off sharply. “I know. How long do you intend to keep playing the victim card? None of us asked for this.”

  I blinked, pulling up short like he’d slapped me. He was right. They’d been born the way they were, and they’d had no more control over it than I had.

  “I know it hasn’t been easy for you,” Shaun said, his tone softening. “And I know you’re facing more than anyone else here right now. And I get that you want to let off some steam every now and then. But, like it or not, and no matter how it came to be, you are a member of the shifter community now. And every time you step outside that gate, your actions reflect on the academy, and the community as a whole. If you can’t commit to learning how to control your magic, I’ll have no choice but to stop you leaving the grounds.”

  My mouth hung open.

  “What? You can’t.”

  “I assure you I can.”

  “No, I meant–” I took a second to get my mouth under control before I blurted something that landed me in even deeper trouble. I sighed. “I’m sorry. I know I should have gone to my lesson with Underwood. I just heard about the night out, and I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t.”

  I headed for the door, before Shaun could start having second thoughts about blocking me from passing through that ward.

  “And Jade?” I glanced back over my shoulder to see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well done for not roasting that sleaze.”

  I grinned and ducked out of the door. I didn’t think he was talking about a verbal roasting. My self-control was improving. I guess Underwood’s lessons weren’t a complete waste of my time, after all.

  My grin lasted exactly four steps, before I remembered that I was going to have to spend my entire Saturday cleaning up in the main hall, and shifter students were like any students – the place was bound to be trashed by the time breakfast had finished. Which, judging by the trickle of students I was passing, was about now. No breakfast for me.

  When I caught up Cam and Mei, they were standing in front of the kitchen hatch, Cam holding a broom, and Mei a cloth and spray bottle. Mickey was standing in front of them, and he clocked me as soon as I walked in.

  “Ah, the third musketeer. I was just explaining to your two comrades what you’re going to be doing today.”

  He glanced around the hall, which was now deserted other than the four of us, and a complete tip, with plates of food left on tables, empty drinks cans on the floor, and a few chairs knocked over. Jeez, and I thought the party had been in town.

  “Lock the doors, please,” he said, and I shuffled back over to the two heavy wooden doors, swung them closed, and dropped the bolt into the floor.

  “That’s better,” he said, nodding his approval, and plucking the spray bottle and cloth from Mei’s hands. “Plenty of time for cleaning later. You look like you could all use some food.”

  I shared a grin with the other two.

  “Yes, please, Mickey,” I said. “That’d be great.”

  “You’re not off the hook with the cleaning, mind,” he said, leaning Cam’s broom against the wall. “But I don’t think one little bar brawl should mean you have to work on empty stomachs.”

  “We’ll get this place gleaming,” I promised.

  We grabbed some seats while Mickey disappeared back into the kitchen. My nose twitched – I’d recognise the scent of eggs and bacon anywhere. To my surprise, the smell didn’t make my stomach churn, grease not normally being the most appetising of smells after a night out. I guess Cam wasn’t completely wrong about shifter resilience. That was pretty cool.

  I grinned at the pair of them.

  “What are you smiling about?” Mei grumbled. “We’re still stuck cleaning in here all day.”

  “Yeah, but did you see the look on that guy’s face last night, after Cam knocked his friend out?”

  Mei chuckled.

  “That was pretty funny,” she allowed. “I thought he was going to ruin his trousers.”

  “Aye, and so he should,” Cam said with a grin. “Did ye see that punch? One tap and goodnight.”

  He flexed his biceps, which, I had to admit, was a pleasant sight. Not that I had any intention of letting him know that.

  “Please. Shifter strength. I could have put him out with one tap.”

  “Oh, that’s fighting talk, lass,” he said, wrapping his arms around me in a bear hug. I was still deciding whether to kick him or kiss him when Mickey set a tray with three steaming plates of food, and three mugs of coffee in front of us.

  “Mickey, you are my personal hero,” I said, wiggling out of Cam’s grip and helping myself to a plate and a mug.

  We made short work of breakfast, laughing and joking the last traces of our hangovers away.

  And then, all too soon, Mickey reappeared, tossing a couple of cleaning clothes in our direction.

  “Time to get started, you three. The plates need to be collected, the tables cleaned, and the floor swept and mopped. And when that’s done, you can make a start on washing up.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I want you to focus your power into the flame and push it as high as you can.”

  I fixed Underwood with my most unimpressed look and slumped further into my chair.

  “Where’s the point? It’s not like I need to go around making flames bigger.”

  “The point, Jade,” Underwood said, “is that you need to learn control. This is an exercise in control.”

  “Why? I just need to learn not to use it.”

  “If you can’t control your magic in a calm, controlled environment like this, then how do you hope to control it when you’re under duress?”

  I shrugged. I hadn’t really given it much thought. I didn’t think much about magic at all outside of this dungeon.

  “I didn’t have any trouble controlling it three nights ago, at the bar.”

  Underwood’s eyes narrowed.

  “So, that was why you missed your lesson? To go out drinking?”

  “You guys really don’t tell each other anything, do you?” I sat a little straighter in my seat and regarded him. “Is it the same with all shifters, because you’re a hal– I mean, a hybrid?”

  A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, presumably at my sudden onset of diplomacy, then his lips pressed together, crushing it. I guess that answered my question.

  “Kelsey has a pack,” I said, “and they let her back in, didn’t they? What about you? Do you have a pack?”

  “My status with the packs is not relevant to your studies.”

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “You know everything about me. I’m just curious if it’s the same for all hybrids.”

  “You call us hybrids,” Underwood said. “Why?”

  “That’s… that’s what you prefer to be called, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” Underwood agreed, inclining his head. “But few shifters care about such niceties when it comes to my kind.”

  “Oh. Well, I just figure a person has the right to be called by whatever term they don’t find offensive. It doesn’t cost me anything to use the word hybrid instead of… the other thing. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I called you that before. I was out of line.”

  Underwood turned on his heel and walked a few steps away. I watched him go, my forehead creasing in confusion, and then I saw his shoulders rise and fall, and he turned back to me.

  “I appreciate your apology,” he said. “More than you know. To answer your question, I have no pack. My mother died giving
birth, and her pack wouldn’t accept me.”

  “They disowned a kid?” I frowned. “But it wasn’t your fault. You were one of them!”

  “In their eyes, not so. My mother had committed the ultimate betrayal by marrying a druid, and they cast her out long before I was born. She was the daughter of an alpha, and they’d had expectations of her.”

  I nodded. That I understood, after watching Dean stick with Madison through thick and thin last year. As the offspring of an alpha, he had responsibilities. Underwood’s mother must really have loved his father to turn her back on that.

  “So, what happened to you?” I asked.

  “My father raised me. I attended Dragondale – the headmaster then was sympathetic to my situation, being, as he was, more open-minded than many, and I learned to control my wolf-side.”

  “Without an instructor to teach you? That must have been...”

  I didn’t have the words to finish that thought. Brutal didn’t even begin to cut it. My lessons were brutal, and I had someone who knew what they were doing to coach me.

  Underwood cleared his throat.

  “Enough stalling,” he said, nodding to the candle.

  I sighed and turned back to it. The single flame was flicking on the wick, about an inch high and swaying to the occasional draught that made it through the dungeon’s door.

  I held my hand out towards it, because I’d found during our sessions that it was easier to channel my power that way.

  “Hand down.”

  “But…”

  “It’s a prop,” Underwood said. “You don’t need it. You can connect your magic to the flame just by focussing.”

  “Fine.”

  I dropped my hand back into my lap and locked my eyes onto the flame again. I allowed a trickle of anger to bubble inside me, and willed it into the flame. Nothing happened.

  “It’s not working.”

  “You’ve barely given it a chance. Focus.”

  I stared at the flame some more, knitting my brows together as I tried to stare it into submission. My hand tingled, and a wisp of movement caught my eye.

  “Shit!” It was smoke, trickling up from my hoodie. I’d set the bloody sleeve on fire. I patted at it frantically, then looked at my arm through the hole singed into the material, expecting to see burned flesh. Instead, it was skin-coloured and healthy looking. I shot a quizzical look at Underwood.