by Cheree Alsop
She quickly undid the paper and opened the tiny jewelry box. Inside was a necklace with a little golden wolf hanging from a chain. The wolf had a small blue gem for an eye.
“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, giving him another hug. “How did you get it?”
“Nikki helped me,” he replied. He chose not to mention that Mouse had put a tracking device inside the wolf so they could make sure Cassie was inside the Academy at all times. If she left it would set off a warning signal on one of Brock’s computers. He felt slightly bad for impinging on her privacy, but he was willing to do whatever it took to keep her safe.
“Thank you so much,” she said, hugging him one last time. “I love you, Alex. Be careful.”
“I love you too, Cass. Take care of yourself.”
“I will,” Cassie promised. She stepped back and looped her arm through Tennison’s.
“I have a gift for you, too,” Professor Mouse said quietly, appearing from seemingly out of nowhere.
Alex stared at him. “A gift?”
Mouse gave a small smile. “I guess it’s not as cheery as a necklace, but it could save your life.” He opened a plain gray box to reveal a tiny piece of metal.
“What is it?” Alex asked, accepting the box.
“It’s a tracking device as well,” he said quietly, tipping his head meaningfully toward Cassie, though there was so much commotion in the hallway she couldn’t hear them.
“How does it work?” Alex asked, eyeing the object curiously.
“It has an adhesive on the back. Stick it to one of your molars, then be careful not to eat on that side. If you get caught, chomp on it. It’ll send a signal traceable from the next country if needed.”
“You want me to stick it to my tooth?” Alex repeated.
Mouse nodded. “It’s harder to find that way. So many people have fillings that’ll set off a tracker that most don’t scan the mouth. There won’t be a signal to pick up unless you bite it, so it’ll be pretty much untraceable. Trust me.”
Alex did as instructed and stuck the small device in the crevice of his last top molar. He bit down carefully to make sure he had the device in a good place. It was back enough to miss his normal bite, but if he shifted his jaw slightly to the left, he could hit it.
“How’s that feel?” Mouse asked.
“Good, I guess,” Alex replied. “Thanks.”
“Take care of yourself,” the professor said with a small smile.
“It’s time,” Jaze called from near the door.
Termer students were hurrying out to the waiting cars. Jaze held out a coat. Meredith had sewn a heat-reflective blanket inside. If he kept to the middle of the mass and wore the coat only long enough to reach the cars, it would hopefully hide his heat signature until he was securely in the vehicle.
Kalia stood next to Jaze with a small suitcase in each hand that contained the possessions and clothes each of them would be taking home for the break.
“Ready?” she asked.
Alex nodded. “Let’s do this.”
Tennison and Cassie watched side by side as Alex shrugged into the coat. He zipped it up with the realization that he hadn’t worn a coat for as far back as he could remember. He had always phased when he was cold. Extra protection against the weather hadn’t been needed.
“Good luck,” Jaze said with a warm smile. “We’ll see you after the break.”
Alex turned to go, but the dean touched the arm of his coat. “Be careful,” Jaze said. He gave Alex a fatherly smile. “Make sure you get back to us.”
“I will,” Alex promised.
He took one of the suitcases from Kalia and walked through the door Kaynan held open.
“Enjoy the sunshine!” the red-eyed werewolf called after them.
Alex waved a hand.
“I can’t believe we have to take you home with us,” Boris grumbled from behind Alex. “I don’t see why you can’t stay here with the rest of the stinkin’ Strays.”
“You know very well why, Boris,” Kalia replied. “So just shut up and accept it.”
“You’re lucky I’m not your Alpha here,” Boris growled. “Or I would make you pay for that.”
“You would try,” Kalia replied.
Their arguments faded from Alex’s hearing as he passed Jet’s statue rising from the snowbank in the middle of the courtyard. Alex realized that he had never left the Academy for more than a day. The knowledge that the black wolf was always just outside the Academy watching over everything had given him a sense of security. He was leaving that all behind.
Alex set a hand on the statue. The metal was so cold it stung his fingertips. He looked up at the silver seven emblazoned on Jet’s shoulder. His breath made a puff of white fog in the air as he set a hand on the seven.
“Are you coming?” Kalia asked. There was a hint of urgency in her voice.
Alex broke away from the statue with the realization that he was supposed to hurry so the coat didn’t heat up and give him away. He followed Kalia and Boris quickly to the limousine that waited at the front of the courtyard.
“Come on, let’s get moving,” Kalia’s mother said without preamble.
The driver set their luggage in the trunk while Alex ducked after Boris and Kalia into the vehicle. He stared at the spacious interior.
“Scoot over so Mom can get in,” Boris growled with annoyance. “You’d think you’d never been in a limo before.”
“I haven’t,” Alex replied. He ignored their surprised stares and took a seat near the front.
Kalia’s mom slid onto the seat and the driver shut the door. Mrs. Dickson immediately pulled out a phone. She started talking almost before the person on the other end answered.
“Welcome to our lives,” Boris stated dryly.
The limousine pulled out of the courtyard.
***
Alex didn’t know what to expect, certainly not the sweeping white mansion with huge columns and finely manicured lawns as well as a white wall almost as big as the Academy’s surrounding it. After the long hours of travel, they had left the Academy locked in winter far behind; sun peaked behind clouds and grass carpeted the far-reaching landscape, giving a perfect contrast to the spotless white along with black shutters, a black door inlaid with intricate glass etching, and the low green bushes on either side of the widespread stairs.
Two men stood at the top of the stairs at the door. They wore black suits and white gloves. Two more waited near the curved driveway where the limousine driver pulled in. A quick glance through the back window showed four men walking the perimeter and two at the gate who had questioned them regardless of Mrs. Dickson in the back seat. She seemed perfectly content to ignore everything that went on besides the person talking on the other end of the phone.
“Come on,” Kalia said, climbing out the door as soon as it was held open by yet another white-gloved individual.
Boris was out next. Alex followed more slowly. He glanced back at Mrs. Dickson. She didn’t even seem to notice that the vehicle had stopped. He stepped out and saw that Kalia was already halfway up the stairs. A servant carried her luggage and followed her to the doors that were now held open.
Alex reached for his bag.
“I’ve got that for you, sir,” a servant replied.
“I can carry my stuff,” Alex told him. It seemed pointless to have two people climb up the stairs when only one needed to.
The servant smiled. He was about twice Alex’s age with short black hair and a small mustache that twitched in humor.
“I could use the exercise,” the man said, though he was thinner than Mouse.
“Let him carry your bag, Alex,” Boris instructed with an exasperated shake of his head. “It’s not a big deal.”
The big Alpha trudged up the stairs with a servant half his size following behind carrying his suitcase.
“But why?” Alex asked when Boris was at the door.
The servant shot a glance to where Mrs. Dickson was still waiting in the c
ar. Her hand waved animatedly as she spoke so quickly Alex could barely make out what she was saying.
“Why do it for yourself when someone else could do it for you,” the servant stated in a voice low enough for only Alex to hear.
At Alex’s surprised look, the servant winked. “I’m Henry,” he said, sticking out a hand.
Alex felt a hint of relief at the first sign of a normal human interaction at the house. “I’m Alex,” he replied.
“Now, about that bag, Alex,” the servant said. He took the luggage from Alex and gestured toward the stairs.
“I have a feeling I’m not going to understand this place,” Alex said under his breath.
Henry shrugged. “Luckily, it’s not a necessary part of your stay here.”
Alex reached the doors. The servants on either side nodded at him in a gesture that was close to a small bow. “Uh, thank you,” Alex said. The servants smiled and he stepped inside the house.
The grandeur of the exterior was outdone by the interior. A majestic, sweeping staircase ran on each side of the entrance hall. Marble floors, statues in cleverly designed nooks, and black and white as far as Alex could see made up the furnishings.
“Your room is this way, sir,” Henry instructed.
Alex realized he was staring. He hurried after the servant up the right side staircase. He wondered where Kalia was. It seemed he had already lost her, something that felt very possible in the huge house.
Henry opened the fourth door on the right side of the hallway.
“This is the guest wing, sir. This room will be yours for the duration of your stay.”
Alex stared at the huge, sweeping ceiling and vast space of the bedroom that would have taken up the entire Pack Jericho common room along with his room.
“Are you sure this is right?” Alex asked, amazed. “Isn’t there somewhere, uh, smaller I should or could stay in?”
Henry shook his head with a warm smile as if Alex amused him. “I hope it doesn’t disappoint you to hear, but this is the smallest room in the house, sir.”
Alex shook his head in astonishment. “That’s incredible. I wonder how big the biggest room is.”
“That would be the basketball court, sir. It has an adjoining swimming pool and hot tub. I could give you a tour if you would like,” Henry offered.
Alex let out an accepting breath. “Might as well. Good thing I can always find my way back here if I get lost.”
At Henry’s questioning look, Alex remembered that he wasn’t talking to a werewolf. His interactions with humans had been limited to Nikki, Kalia, and Professor Thorson. Now Brock and Caden, he reminded himself. He forgot that a human’s sense of smell wasn’t nearly as keen as a werewolf’s. He also didn’t know if Henry knew he was a werewolf. Given Kalia’s brief description of the fear of werewolves at the Dickson household, he doubted the servants knew of it.
“Uh, good sense of direction,” Alex said.
Henry nodded. “At least I won’t have to worry about finding you lost in some far quarter of the house, sir.”
“You’d need to find me?” Alex repeated. “Why?”
“I am your personal assistant, sir; your servant, if you will. Your needs are mine to fulfill, and I am personally responsible for your wellbeing,” Henry replied.
Alex studied him, not sure if having a manservant follow him around would be a good thing. “Does everyone here have a personal assistant?”
Henry smiled, his mustache twitching with humor. “In a manner of speaking, yes. Mrs. Dickson has four personal servants, as well as two maids, a seamstress, and a butler.”
Alex dared to ask, “For the entire house?”
Henry’s smile deepened. “No, sir. For herself. There are thirty-four servants at the Dickson household, as well as a dozen or so others for hire depending on the season.”
“Why does the season matter?” Alex’s head was reeling with the thought that it took so many people to run one house.
“Gardening, spring cleaning, clearing walkways of snow, trimming hedges, caring for the pool,” Henry listed. He shrugged. “There are hundreds of odd jobs Mrs. Dickson hires out for. It gets a bit hard to keep track.” He flicked his hand toward the door. “Shall we see to that tour?”
Alex was tempted to refuse. There was too much to take in as it was. Between the servants, guards, and Kalia’s family, he had never been surrounded by so many humans. He had already started to regret taking up Kalia’s offer about spending Christmas at her house.
Henry read his hesitation. “It might feel good to stretch your legs after the long ride. Besides, once you get the hang of this place, you’ll see that it’s not so bad.
Chapter Twenty-two
Everyone dressed up for dinner. The concept made Alex want to laugh and cringe at the same time. He tried not to fidget in the dress shirt and slacks Cassie had thankfully insisted he take. There was seldom an occasion to dress up at the Academy. Students were allowed their own form of worship, and there was even a small chapel room at the end of one of the classroom wings, but Alex only went there when Cassie dragged him for Christmas.
He missed Cassie terribly. It had only been one night, yet they had never been so far apart. He was grateful Cassie had Tennison, but looking around the table at the faces of strangers, he realized he had no one.
“How do you like our humble residence, Mr. Davies?” Mr. Dickson asked.
Alex’s head jerked up at being addressed. “It’s, uh, nice,” he replied.
The Dickson family laughed. Small, twittering laughter came from Mrs. Dickson; she held a napkin daintily in front of her lips to hide her smile. Boris gave a deep, throaty guffaw that made Alex’s cheeks burn. Alice and Jordy, Kalia’s younger siblings, giggled because everyone else was laughing. Mr. Dickson fought back a smile that showed humor in the depths of his eyes. The one that got to Alex the most was Elizabeth, Kalia’s older sister. She practically fell off her chair.
“It’s, uh, nice,” she imitated, covering her mouth with dainty white fingers that Alex doubted had ever seen hard work.
Alice and Jordy broke into giggles again.
Mr. Dickson took a calming breath, but he couldn’t fight the smile that stole across his face when he asked, “If this house is just nice, you must come from quite the establishment, Mr. Davies,” he said with a meaningful look at Alex’s department store shirt.
“Dad,” Kalia scolded. She sounded thoroughly dismayed at her family’s rudeness to her guest.
Mr. Dickson lifted his hands. “I’m just saying, Kali. Your young man here must have quite the upbringing if this house doesn’t awe him the way it does the rest of our friends.”
Kalia gave him a stern look. “Maybe grandeur doesn’t impress everyone,” she retorted.
Mr. Dickson chose not to respond.
Mrs. Dickson cleared her throat gracefully and asked, “So Alex, where did you say you grew up?”
Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I didn’t say,” he replied.
It was obvious by Mrs. Dickson’s silence and persistent attention that she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had the answer.
Alex glanced at Kalia. Kalia lifted one shoulder.
“I grew up at the Academy.”
Silence fell around the table. Gazes shifted from right to left. Boris looked at Kalia; the discomfort of their expressions let Alex know just what a mistake he had made.
“Is that Jaze Carso still the head of the establishment?” Mr. Dickson asked.
Before Alex could nod, Kalia cut him off with, “Dad, don’t go there.”
Mr. Dickson threw up a hand. “Kali, I just don’t understand why he has to be the one to run that place. What kind of an example is he setting for those kids?”
“Adam, it’s not our place to question,” Mrs. Dickson said quietly, resting a hand on his arm.
“They’re a bunch of murderers, Marnie. And we’re sending our kids there. How is that supposed to help anything?” he demanded.
Mrs.
Dickson shook her head. “It’s the only place they’re safe.”
“What if by the time they come back, we’re the ones not safe?”
Mr. Dickson’s question hung in the air. Alex didn’t dare even swallow the bite of heavily spiced fish that was in his mouth. He couldn’t believe what they were accusing Jaze of. He didn’t know whether he should say something. He couldn’t let it sit, not with Jaze’s reputation on the line. They should know how much Jaze put himself out there to protect werewolves.
Alex swallowed and spoke quickly before he second-guessed his decision. “Jaze puts his life on the line for—” He caught Kalia’s quick shake of the head and remembered at the last minute that her parents didn’t allow them to use the word werewolf, “For people like your children,” he finished. “He leaves his family and confronts dangerous situations on a weekly basis.”
“If only we could hope someone would end his life,” Mr. Dickson replied.
Alex stood up so quickly his chair screeched back. He didn’t know what to say. His instincts demanded that he defend the one who had done so much for he and Cassie, yet instincts also dictated that attacking someone in their own home was not smart or polite.
Mr. Dickson’s eyes widened. Alex followed his gaze and glanced down. He realized he was holding a spoon in one hand and his fork in the other. Both utensils were bent by his clenched fists. He dropped them. They clattered on the table, the shapes of his fingers imprinted in the fine silverware.
“Please excuse me,” he muttered before rushing from the table.
“Alex,” Kalia called after him.
“Let him go,” he heard Mr. Dickson reply as he hurried to the front of the house. “I’m not so sure inviting him here was such a good idea.”
A servant opened the door when he neared. Alex stormed outside and rushed across the lawn. He wanted to phase, but knew with the heavy security around, he would be shot on sight. He ached to run away, to leave the Dickson residence behind and never look back. To hear what they thought about Jaze and the rest of the professors at the Academy made a knot in his stomach. The taste of fish refused to leave his mouth.