New Moon (Alpha Wolf Academy)

by JJ King

  Bash wiped his hands on his pants and walked straight to the cabinet on the end, one he’d opened. “Like this?” He pulled a thick book out and held it up.

  I grinned and took it from his hands. “Exactly like that.” I flipped through the pages, muttering, “Aconite, aconite,” until I found it.

  Aconite (noun) Aconitum napellus (A. napellus, also known as monkshood or wolfsbane) is a perennial herb often grown as an ornamental plant due to its attractive blue to dark purple flowers.

  “It’s wolfbane,” my eyebrows shot up in surprise. “It’s poison.”

  “We should take it with us, just in case,” Bash said with a frown. “But, we should leave this here for when Daniella wakes up.” He bent to pick up the gun that still lay on the floor next to the examining table and put it on the bed next to her hip.

  I grabbed two needles and filled them with wolfsbane, figuring if we needed poison, there wouldn’t be time to draw it. I put them in another pocket then turned to the door. “Are you sure?” I asked, leaving another opening for him to change his mind.

  “Yeah.” He leaned in to kiss Daniella’s forehead one more time, then strode across the room and hefted the still unconscious guard over his shoulder. “Let’s find somewhere to toss him.”

  I unlocked the door and opened it slowly, listening for the sound of voices or footsteps. When I heard nothing, I poked my head out and glanced up and down the hallway. “All clear,” I murmured, then slipped out.

  We found an open janitor’s closet at the end of the hallway and stowed our captive inside after making sure his binds were tight and his gag was in place. Just to be safe, Bash cracked him on the head again with a broom handle.

  We moved quicker this time, careful not to rush or draw attention, though. I thanked the Old Ones Bash was with me this time, that I wasn’t alone anymore, and that I’d been able to help one person from death’s door.

  Outside, the sun was still shining. I stared at it for a moment, confused as to how it could still be daytime when so much had happened. I had no idea how much time had passed since I’d left Xavier. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and glanced down at the time.

  2:57 p.m.

  Two hours ago, I’d been sitting in the solarium, waiting for Bash to show up. Two hours ago, my life had been completely normal, except for the drama, failed romance, and arch nemesis. I tucked my phone back into my pocket and prayed that in two hours from now, we’d still be alive.

  We passed a few guards along the way, men and women who simply nodded in our direction or raised a hand in passing. Friendly terrorists, I thought, but was grateful no one stopped.

  It only took ten minutes to make it across campus to the library. When we stepped through the main doors into the foyer and found the place empty, I let out a sigh of relief and headed straight towards the rare books room, pulling my mask off as I went.

  And ran straight into a group of waiting guards.

  Chapter 22

  Fury and savage desperation flooded my veins, and I snarled viciously at the men and women standing between me and Xavier. I pulled the gun from my holster and aimed it carefully. Something inside me had snapped, and I was not afraid to use it anymore.

  Bash moved up to flank my back, and we stepped into the room, careful to keep at least one wall behind us as the guards moved around us with their weapons drawn.

  One of them stayed back and through the buzzing in my head I heard him say into his walkie-talkie, “We’ve got her.”

  I wanted to scream and rage. We were so close, we were almost safe, or as safe as we could be until real help showed up and took down these assholes. Instead, we were in more danger than ever, and I was still being mistaken for someone important.

  “I’m not the one you want,” I yelled, but nobody was listening. They just looked at me with glints of intent in their traitorous eyes and waited for their moment.

  Movement came from my right first. A woman with thick blonde hair pulled back in a severe braid moved in so quickly I almost didn’t react in time. When the shot rang out and her body jerked back, I just gaped in shock at the spreading blood on her dark uniform.

  The other guards exploded into action, rushing us with guns and metal rods pulled. By the time my hands stopped shaking enough to tighten on the trigger again, it was wrenched out of my hands.

  A fist slammed into my face, knocking me back into Bash. Pain cut through the shock and I snapped back into the moment. Rage and self-preservation ruled, and I moved, ducking another punch and coming up with one of my own to my opponent’s chin. The snap of her head felt like victory.

  The kick that landed in the small of my back, taking me to my knees, a moment later did not feel like victory. It felt like shit.

  I stumbled to my feet with darts of pain shooting through my midsection and threw up my fists again. We were outnumbered, painfully so, but whatever part of me that had been pushed beyond my breaking point had no ability to give up or even back down anymore. I wondered absently if this was what the berserkers had experienced during Viking raids.

  Before I could realize the full insanity of my wandering thoughts, I was distracted by the sight of Bash’s head snapping back so hard I practically heard his spine groan. He recovered quickly, and staved off another punch, his long limbs working in his favor to keep his opponents at a distance.

  He was beautiful, my spinning thoughts rambled again as my body fought on automatic. Duck, block, punch, I had no idea how I was keeping my own, especially against trained terrorists. Adrenaline, I assumed, and pure rage mixed with desperation. Do or die that was the saying, wasn’t it?

  Three guards moved on Bash, trying to separate us more than they’d already managed. I shifted closer to him, trying to keep his back, but two others closed in on me just then, and my focus shifted.

  This was it, they were moving on us, tired of playing with their prey. Pressure built inside me until it couldn’t be held back anymore. I loosed a wild scream and attacked.

  Everything moved in a blur, too fast to really see or comprehend. My fist connected with flesh, rattling my bones, and fists connected with me, knocking the air from my lungs.

  I’m not sure how long we fought, minutes or hours, but when my body began to lag, my arms to grow too heavy to punch anymore, tears spilled onto my cheeks as my rage was replaced by resignation.

  They’d won. But, at least, we were both still alive.

  I turned my head to tell Bash that it was okay, that he could stop now, and stopped breathing as a guard with a metal baton raised high, moved behind him and swung with terrifying accuracy.

  His eyes flew wide as it struck and, for a split second, he looked at me and apologies swam in those emerald depths. Then they went dark and he crumpled to the floor.

  Hands closed around my forearms, pulling them behind me painfully, but I could see was Bash and the bright crimson blood trickling from his ears.

  “We’ve got her,” a deep voice said into a walkie-talkie just behind me and I jerked my head around, wrenching my arms.

  “You’ve got the wrong person!” I screamed, even though they weren’t listening. “I’m nobody.” A whimper escaped my parted lips. “I’m nobody,” it came out as a defeated whisper.

  My head bowed, too heavy to hold anymore, as they picked up Bash’s body and one really big man, slung him over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing.

  Relief spilled through me. If they were bothering to carry him, they weren’t planning on killing him, yet, anyway.

  No, the thoughts tumbled into my head, unwanted, incomprehensible. They thought I was someone I wasn’t and they’d need a way to make me talk. Bash was being taken as leverage.

  Against me.

  The guard holding my arms pulled them back tighter, bringing my wrists together, and something hard and sharp cut into my flesh. Someone shoved me and I stumbled forward, walking without thought behind Bash’s dangling form, all the fight gone out of me.

  I had no idea how I was goin
g to convince whoever I was being led to that they’d gotten the wrong person, but, for Bash’s sake, and mine, I had to try.

  “I don’t know why you guys think I’m the one you’re looking for, but I’m not,” I looked around, trying to catch someone’s gaze. “I’m here on scholarship. I’m from Newfoundland for Old One’s sake!” I said it as if it negated the attention being directed towards me. Frustration gave my voice an edge. “Why won't you listen to me? You’ve got the wrong girl!”

  “Shut her up, will you?” one of the guards shouted from behind me and, a moment later, I was being turned around roughly and a piece of fabric was being stuffed into my mouth. I gagged on it and tried to wrench my head away, but another guard grabbed my hair and yanked back so hard tears fell freely from my eyes. Another piece of fabric was tied around my face and I was shoved forward and ordered to “Move!”

  Dread weighed me down, making every step nearly impossible. The guards shoved and pulled me along, encouraging me with threats and promises that made my skin crawl. Memories of playing along the ocean shore and reading books with mom filled my mind, sweeping me away from the cold reality I was in. I thought of Xavier, who must be dead by now, and Rory, whose bright light could be extinguished. I let the tears that came fall freely because there was nothing to fight anymore. I was alone.

  We entered the double doors to the auditorium, stepping out of the bright hall lights and into the dim shadows of the huge room. The giant carrying Bash tossed him casually into a chair then stepped back to crack his neck.

  I noticed all of this through a kind of cloud, as if it were all happening to someone else and I was just an onlooker.

  A crash from the stage captured my attention enough for me to look and wonder. A tall man raged up there, his voice booming out of his chest and aimed towards a terrified looking woman who winced but held her ground despite the fear in her eyes.

  He backhanded her, hard enough to split her lip and splatter drops of blood on her collar, but still she stood her ground. A small part of me couldn't help but be impressed at her resilience. The rest of me was too consumed with hate for this abusive asshole to remember that she was one of the people responsible for the death and destruction on campus.

  His voice, thickly accented, resonated through the auditorium, and bounced off the walls built for projection. I recognized the sound of the language as Slavic but wasn’t sure if my movie background could be trusted enough to identify it. My gut wanted to go with Russian, but he was a big, angry, evil man, and I’d watched too many movies with Russian bad guys to be unbiased.

  His sharp movements and angry shouts made my skin crawl and bile roll into my throat. I struggled against my gag as my stomach rebelled.

  Someone shoved me again, hard enough to make me stumble. My foot teetered on the edge of one of the steps, hanging there for a long moment, before my body slumped with fatigue and fell hard against the auditorium chairs. My head cracked against something and everything went hazy.

  I heard shouts all around me and felt rough hands yanking me up. A brilliant white pain raced through me as my shoulder snapped out of joint.

  I heard the rough shouts of the man and shivered as he came closer to me. I shrank back, trying to hide. Even through the pain and shadows, I knew I had to get away from him. He leaned in close and shouted something at the people holding me.

  Their hands fell away and I found myself being scooped up, carried with a gentleness that confused my still ringing brain. My eyes fluttered open and closed, unable to focus on the face before me.

  I was set down on something soft and laid back, then my gag was removed and I could breathe again. The air felt like heaven on my burning throat. I sucked it down like a man dying and felt my mind begin to clear.

  The stage stretched before me with bright lights and props arranged to imitate a living room set. I was lying on a couch, I realized, and my hands were free by my sides. Deep cuts laced my wrists, blood stained my forearms, and my shoulder was severely dislocated, but I was alright, I thought, or I would be soon enough.

  Someone moved in front of me and crouched down so we were face to face, and a sense of unease skittered up my spine again. It was him, I knew, I could feel it in my bones.

  “What do you want from me?” I croaked out the words from my raw throat.

  “Drink,” the single word was issued like a command, with no room for question.

  I took the bottle of water from his hands, lifted it to my lips, and drank. It cleared away the last cobwebs in my mind. When I’d finished the entire bottle, I let it drop to the floor of the stage and closed my eyes. This was the big moment, I’d either convince this maniac I was the wrong girl or he’d torture me, and Bash, to get to me.

  “You’ve made a mistake,” I said slowly, emphasizing each word. “I’m not important.”

  His chuckle started softly then picked up thunder as it built. I squeezed my eyes shut and gritted my teeth, afraid that if I gave into the fear, I’d turn into a blubbering mess and I needed to keep my wits.

  “No, my dear, there’s been no mistake,” his accent was melodic, almost beautiful, but the dark edge of laughter in it was anything but. His hand snaked out and strong fingers gripped my chin.

  I lifted my head, knowing he’d force me if I didn’t comply, and finally opened my eyes to meet his. They were blue, it was hard not to notice. So deep and intense, a rare color even in our world. They reminded me of the eyes I’d looked into every day of my life.

  His were shining with amusement now and something darker that I couldn’t begin to fathom, and they were watching me expectantly.

  The air was too thick. I couldn’t make it travel through my lungs like I wanted. My brain began to fuzz again, this time because too many thoughts bombarded me at once. Those eyes, too familiar, that nose and chin, more masculine but still… mine.

  A band of pressure started in my chest, pinning me to the spot, unable to pry my gaze from his. My mind raced, endlessly, trying to decipher all the little details that linked us physically. It didn’t make sense, my parents didn’t have family, they’d told me every time I’d asked why I didn’t have legions of cousins, aunts, and uncles like most wolves I knew.

  So, why did this man look like me?

  “Who are you?” My voice trembled slightly and the answering look of smugness in his eyes made my stomach clench.

  “You really don’t know, do you?” His smile was wide and toothy, almost as if he was baring his fangs at me. I took it as a threat and refused to answer.

  He chuckled and stepped back from the couch to look down at me with those eerily similar blue eyes. “Oh, come on little girl, look at me. See me.” He stretched his arms out wide. “Blood runs true, it always runs true.” He moved like lightning, grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet. I bit back a scream as he pulled me across the stage to where a long mirror stood.

  “Look!” he commanded, his voice echoing through the auditorium like a god.

  I looked, because I had no choice anymore, because maybe I’d never had one. I looked and I saw.

  He leaned in close enough that I felt the heat from his breath on my ear and whispered, “Don’t you recognize your uncle Viktor, little wolf.”

  Chapter 23

  I shook my head automatically, refusing to believe that my parents had lied about having family, although I'd lie about being related to a psychopath, too, I suppose.

  His laughter boomed in my ear, but the sound in it was not amusement, not anymore. Self-satisfaction oozed from him, completing the image of a madman. I pulled away from his hands, but his fingers dug deeper into my damaged shoulder and wouldn’t let go.

  “Strange, isn’t it?” he murmured, watching me in the mirror. “Seeing someone you didn’t know existed and recognizing yourself in them. I understand completely.” His eyebrow arched and he pulled back with a hiss. “Well, not completely. See, I knew you existed, I just didn’t care.” He tilted his head to the side and considered me. “Until now
, obviously.”

  It was too much. Too much for me to understand, too much for me to question, all of it… was too much, so I did the only thing I could and lashed out. “Back off, asshole!” I screamed the words and tried not to notice the way the men and women in the room glanced at me as if those words were going to be my last. “You’re not my family. I don’t know how this happened,” I pointed between our faces, “but looking alike doesn’t make us family. It just makes you a psychotic fuckwad who attacked an entire campus to get to someone you could have found on the street in Newfoundland.”

  I felt the color drain from my face as my own words sunk in. People had died today, in pain and terror, because this guy had wanted to find me. They’d died because of me.

  But why? Grief and frustration swirled in my head, making it hard to think straight. “Why?” The question slipped from my lips. I raised my eyes to meet his gaze. “Why did you…” I trailed off, unable to finish my own question.

  He just shot me a cocky grin and shrugged. “Why did I attack an entire campus and allow my men and women to kill indiscriminately just so I could find you?” He tapped a finger on my chest with each word. “I couldn’t just leave a straight trail back to me, now could I? No, a little misdirection goes a long way. As far as the world is concerned, this has nothing to do with you. After all, little wolf, it’s just as you said. You’re nobody.” His voice fell flat and deadly.

  It still made no sense. He claimed I was his niece, so what? What kind of uncle slaughtered innocent kids to find his niece so he could deliver a diatribe about how awesome he was? I frowned and shook my head. If I was going to die today, I wanted answers. “Why did you need to find me? What’s so fucking important about me that you’d plan all…” I threw my hands wide, “this, to get me?”

  Viktor made a humming sound in his voice and gazed down at me as if he were searching for something in my eyes. “That’s the question, isn’t it, little wolf? What’s so fucking important about you?”