The Werewolf Academy Series Boxed Set

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The Werewolf Academy Series Boxed Set Page 19

by Cheree Alsop


  “She didn’t have to do that.” The fact that their aunt had gone so far as to get him a Christmas present warmed him.

  “I told her the same thing,” Cassie said, “But she insisted, saying that she was so happy to have a family for the holiday this year that she wanted to spoil us rotten.”

  “That might not be a bad thing,” Alex said.

  Cassie laughed. “It might not. We need to get her something so she knows how much it means to us to have her here.”

  Alex smiled. “I was thinking the same thing. I’ll figure it out. We can surprise her when I get back.”

  “Okay. I love you, Alex.”

  “Love you, Cass. Have a good night. Tell Tennison I said hi.”

  “I will,” Cassie promised.

  Alex hung up the phone feeling much better. At least one part of his life made sense and was safe. He was almost asleep when he remembered to plug in his phone. Cassie would surely be upset with him if he let it die and forgot to call her. He smiled. Sometimes it was nice having someone who cared so much. The smile stayed on his face as he fell asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “Is it supposed to be some sort of cruel irony that the full moon falls on Christmas Eve?” Boris demanded.

  “It can’t be that bad,” Kalia replied, though she, too, looked anxious.

  They had spent the entire day trying not to bring up the subject. Kalia’s worried glances toward the door in the poorly used sitting room let Alex know she was still concerned about her father overhearing. The werewolves had been too restless to do anything remotely close to sitting.

  “It is that bad, Kali. It’s not like you know,” Boris spat. At Kalia’s hurt expression, Boris sighed. “Look. I know you’re caught in-between and all,” he said, waving his fingers. “But for those of us real werewolves, it’s hard to think of anything but phasing tonight. Right, Alex?”

  Alex wasn’t sure Boris’ explanation had helped Kalia feel any better. He gave her a forced cheerful smile. “There are benefits to not being able to stop moving. I fixed the squeaky door.”

  Alex opened the door to the closet and shut it again for emphasis. It gave a louder squeak than it had when he started.

  Kalia rolled her eyes. “You took off the hinges, cleaned them, checked the alignment, refastened the screws, and it still squeaks. Did you think of greasing the hinges first?”

  As if on command, Henry came into the room carrying a bottle of grease on a fancy silver tray that looked as if it should be used to carry fine Hors d’oeuvres or wine in fancy glasses instead. He offered it to Alex with a flourish.

  Alex sprayed the grease on the hinges, then opened and shut the door again. To his dismay, it was completely silent. He sighed at Kalia’s satisfied expression. “Okay, so the entire day was wasted.” He gave Henry a weary smile. “Thank you for bringing the grease.”

  “You’re welcome, sir,” Henry replied before leaving the room.

  “He apparently likes you,” Boris noted, flinging himself into a corner couch with enough force to make it tip on two feet before it fell with a thud back to the floor.

  Alex glanced to the shut door uncertainty. “He said he was a manservant and is doing his job.”

  Boris smirked. “Do you see any servants following me around? Our servants avoid Kalia and I like the plague until they absolutely have to be around us. Henry seems to actually like your company. It’s odd.”

  Alex walked to the bay windows as he had done a million times that day. The sun was setting. Relief that he would soon be able to run in the moonlight filled his chest, then a nagging thought touched his mind. He turned slowly. “Where do you go during the full moon?”

  He had a sudden cringing image of phasing in his bedroom and spending the whole time locked within the walls of the Dickson household afraid to make a sound in case the servants checked on him and were terrified out of their minds. The worst would be Mr. Dickson. For all he knew, the ex-Extremist still had weapons that would no doubt render a phased werewolf into a nonentity.

  “We have chains in the basement,” Boris said with a hint of dread in his voice. “Dad’s too worried we’ll kill the servants or terrorize the neighborhood. It’s his requirement when we’re home during the full moon.”

  Alex tried to keep his voice steady. “Even you?” he asked, meeting Kalia’s gaze.

  She nodded, her light blue eyes serious.

  The dread in his stomach tightened into a knot at the thought of chains around his neck and wrists. He had heard of Jet and some of the other professors suffering such things, but never imagined he would also.

  Something flashed in Kalia’s gaze. It took him a second to recognize it as laughter. He glanced at Boris. The Alpha was watching him with an almost-straight face. Suddenly, Boris’ grim expression dissolved into a huge smile.

  “Gotcha,” he crowed.

  Alex looked at Kalia. She was smiling as well. For the moment, it looked as if the brother and sister were extremely pleased with their joke.

  “You know that was mean,” Alex said.

  Boris laughed. “Yeah, but you should have seen your face. You tried to keep calm, but I could tell you were close to panicking.”

  Kalia grinned. “So close.”

  Alex hesitated, then nodded. “I was close.”

  “I told you,” Boris hooted. “He’ll believe anything.” He gave Alex a closer look. “You must really think things are horrible here for us.”

  Alex forced a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t know. Your siblings avoid you. Your parents blow up if you mention a word about werewolves, and you said yourself that you’ve hated what you are since you saw the disgust on your father’s face the first time you phased.”

  He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Sometimes being honest wasn’t the most pro-life choice. Boris looked at his sister. Kalia’s eyes were wide. Alex doubted she had ever heard Boris voice anything like that. He wished he realized Boris had spoken the words in confidence.

  Alex’s muscles tensed, ready to defend himself. It was so close to the full moon that he could feel the wolf pulsing beneath his skin. He could imagine the fur running up his arms. The sensation of his ears wanting to grow and become pointed tingled through the sides of his head. He could imagine his nose elongating, smells flooding it with so much information that to breathe was to understand life.

  “Alex?” the note of panic in Kalia’s voice brought him back.

  Alex shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He realized both Boris and Kalia were staring at him.

  “Sorry,” Alex apologized to Boris. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Boris shook his head without taking his eyes off Alex. “It’s not that. You changed, uh, phased, but only part way. We were watching you and you became something different. It’s like you were a wolf, but still a man.”

  Alex looked at Kalia for confirmation. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said. There was the slightest tremble of fear in her voice.

  “I thought I was imagining it,” Alex told them, wanting to take away their worry. “I was afraid Boris was angry about what I said and might attack me.”

  “Wonder what gave you that idea,” Boris replied with derision at himself. “But you didn’t have to go all weird beast like that.”

  “I don’t know what I did,” Alex said honestly. “It didn’t feel strange, just different.”

  “You had wolf ears,” Kalia told him, the fear gone from her voice. “Your nose was bigger, and hair was starting to grow on your arms.”

  “Fur,” Boris corrected. “Gray fur, like when you’re a wolf. Only, you weren’t.”

  Alex shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  Boris glanced at his sister. “I guess we’re lucky we weren’t at dinner.”

  Kalia gave a half-smile. “Though I would give anything to see Mom’s expression if he did that during chicken manicotti.”

  She gave Alex a hopeful look.

  “No way
,” Alex protested. “Whatever just happened, I’m not doing it in front of your parents. They’re ready to kick me out as it is.”

  “Probably not the best idea,” Boris added. He and Alex had agreed not to tell Kalia about Alex’s bodyguard trip with Mr. Dickson. With her headaches, they didn’t think she needed another stressor. Instead, Boris shrugged. “Anyway. Just don’t do that again, whatever it was.”

  “I’ll try not to,” Alex replied, though it came out sounding more like a question than a statement because he didn’t even know what he had done to make it happen.

  “And to answer your question, we can do whatever we want,” Boris replied. “The servants know something’s up with us, well, me, but they don’t know what. As long as I keep it that way, Mom and Dad prefer not to take an interest in what I do during full moons.”

  “So what do you do?” Alex pressed.

  A smile crept across Boris’ face that Alex was certain meant nothing good. “I’ll show you when it’s time.”

  Alex left them in the sitting room when it came closer to phasing time. His skin itched. There was no fighting the pull of the full moon, and he didn’t want to. He longed to run in the night lit by the bright shimmering reflected light. His body ached for the rush of leaping logs and dodging trees intent on the scent of a deer or rabbit. He wished for the laughing of the brook that traveled through the forest to Dray’s greenhouses that amazingly enough hid Mouse’s helicopter. He wanted to follow the rise of the forest floor to the peak of the cliff that looked over the Academy, the same cliff Tennison had almost jumped off.

  A shudder ran through Alex’s skin, but it was different. He felt the same tingle that he had in the sitting room. His senses felt sharper. He could smell the oily scent of shoe polish applied too heavily to the spare penny loafers in the wardrobe. The whispered swish of a socked foot sounded rooms away as one of the inhabitants of the Dickson manor prepared for bed. There was a scent in the air he hadn’t noticed before, a lemony pine that lingered on the bedframe as though used to shine the mahogany months before they started applying an orange-based cleaner instead.

  Alex’s head jerked up. He stared at his reflection in the mirror across the room. Familiar dark blue eyes looked back at him, the same color as Cassie and Jet’s; but that was all he recognized. Instead of his normal ears, large, pointed ears with gray fur poked through his wavy black hair. A muzzle took the place of his nose and mouth. The nose twitched, and he smelled the scent of the boysenberry candle a servant had placed in an alcove further down the hallway.

  Alex’s heart stuttered. He grabbed at his chest. He winced and stared down at thick black claws that took the place of his fingernails. His knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor.

  ***

  “I’m not sure what the protocol is for this,” a voice said with uncertainty.

  Alex opened his eyes to find Henry hovering over him.

  “Protocol for what?” Alex replied. He pushed himself up to a sitting position.

  Henry grabbed a pillow from the bed and propped it behind him.

  “Well, sir.” Henry glanced uncomfortably out the window. “It’s close to nightfall. The crickets have begun to chirp louder.”

  Alex couldn’t understand what Henry was trying to tell him. He also couldn’t remember why he had been lying on the floor in the first place instead of using the perfectly good bed. He glanced up at the mirror across the room. The images of what he had seen flooded through his mind.

  “Something’s wrong,” he said, rising quickly.

  Henry grabbed him before the swarm of lightheadedness at the sudden movement made him fall again.

  “Take it easy, sir. I’m sure we can get you outside in time,” Henry replied.

  Alex stared at him. “Outside?”

  Henry nodded and spoke slowly as if Alex had lost more than a few brain cells when he fell. “The moon is rising.”

  The realization hit Alex. “You know.”

  “That you’re a werewolf? Yes,” Henry replied simply.

  “But-but Boris said none of the servants knew. I’m supposed to keep his secret.”

  “And yours, I presume,” Henry added. At Alex’s nod, Henry gave a small smile. “Servants know a lot more than we let on; probably a lot more than Mr. and Mrs. Dickson suspect.”

  Alex gave him a searching look. “You’re not afraid?”

  Henry returned the look. “Should I be?”

  Alex shook his head. “I’m not exactly used to being around humans, at least this many. Maybe I should be the one who’s afraid.”

  Henry smothered a smile. “Don’t worry, sir. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  “Do me a favor?” Alex asked.

  Henry bowed his head. “Anything.”

  “Call me Alex.”

  Henry nodded with another smile. “Allow me to show you a back passage outside, Alex. I assume we don’t have much time to lose.”

  The telling shudder that ran down Alex’s spine agreed. He followed Henry quickly to the door.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Alex found Boris pacing the inside of the wall. At Alex’s appearance, the black-coated Alpha gave a snort filled with impatience. Alex let his tongue hang out in the silly wolf grin that always made Cassie laugh. Boris shook his head and trotted away, leaving Alex to follow behind.

  The guards were noticeably absent from the back wall. Alex wondered if that was luck or on purpose. Perhaps Mr. Dickson knew more about his son’s activities than Boris realized. Alex followed Boris to the statue of a lion on the inside of the back gate. The Alpha leaped onto the lion’s back, then up to the wall. The soft sound of wolf paws hitting the ground on the other side came to Alex’s ears.

  Alex leaped onto the lion’s back, then to the top of the wall. He glanced back in time to see a silhouette in one of the windows. His memory of the night before said that it was Kalia’s. He wondered how it must be to stay victim of the moonlight, yet unable to phase and enjoy it. He had no doubt Kalia was pacing inside like he and Boris had done in the sitting room all day. Perhaps it was their activity that had enabled her to stay still. With them gone, he wondered how she would maintain her sanity behind the walls.

  Boris let out a huff of annoyance from below. Alex gave the silhouette one last look, then leaped down. In a flash of shadow, Boris was running. Alex followed him into the silvery moonlight.

  Boris definitely had a destination in mind; it was obvious by the werewolf’s unwavering direction of flight. They loped across a road and back into the underbrush that separated the ritzy part of town from the older establishments. Before long, Alex was following Boris down alleys and streets into a gloomy part of the city in which most of the businesses looked like they had been abandoned.

  Broken windows, cushion-less couches soggy with countless storms, old televisions with the screens smashed out, and garbage bags ripped open by cats and even bigger rats littered the narrow streets. Boris continued to run without pausing as though he had followed the same route many times.

  Alex began to catch the scent of other werewolves. He saw paw prints on the pavement before them. Werewolves in wolf form had crossed the same path. The signs Colleen had taught them in class let him know that the wolf trails were extremely fresh. Boris ran as if they were late; perhaps he truly did have something waiting for them.

  The scent of werewolf became overpowering. Alex began to see shadows in the adjoining alleys, pacing figures who ran as they did, intent on the same destination. Foreboding filled Alex’s chest. Instinct told him not to rush into something headlong that he didn’t know he could get back out of. What if Boris was leading him into a trap? What if Boris’ Extremist parents still practiced, and they knew Alex’s connection with Jet and Jaze.

  His steps slowed. He was about to listen to his instincts and turn around when he glanced back. The golden shine of six pairs of wolf eyes met his gaze. They were following him. He didn’t know if he should fight or run. The spaces between the adjoining all
eys had gotten longer. The scent of rot and the aged, baked wood of the old, collapsing buildings crowded his nose. The wolves behind him paced closer.

  Boris gave an encouraging bark ahead. Alex had to choose between fighting the half-dozen werewolves behind him or catch up to the one who had led him there. Another bark sounded, more impatient this time. Alex snorted softly, clearing the scent of decay away. He trotted to Boris, leaving the other wolves to follow.

  Boris turned at the middle of the long alley and disappeared. The glow of wolf eyes coming from the other direction made Alex hurry forward. He found storm doors flung wide open, revealing the poorly-lit basement of a huge warehouse. With at least a dozen werewolves in front and behind, Alex knew he didn’t have a choice. He gritted his teeth and padded down the cement stairs.

  Alex blinked, then blinked again. He paused at the top of the first landing and stared at the sight before him. Roughly fifty wolves lounged, ran, or tumbled around the huge basement. Machines that had once made up what appeared to be an old carpentry business were pushed to the sides to make room for the revelry. The sounds of barks, yips, and huffs filled the air.

  The padding of paws on cement made Alex’s ears flick back. He stepped to the side in time to avoid the werewolves he had seen in the alley. They shoved past him and trotted down the stairs without a backwards look. The wolves were a mixture of young and old, male and female. Alphas and the others mingled without conflict. It was a haven of sorts, a safe escape for werewolves looking to enjoy the full moon’s forced phase without danger.

  Boris caught Alex’s stare. The Alpha gave a small huff of humor before turning to pace down the cement steps after the other wolves. Alex chided himself for his lack of trust of the Alpha and followed behind.

  As soon as Alex’s paws touched the floor, a shoulder slammed into his, knocking him to the ground. Alex sprang up with his fangs bared and a snarl rumbling from his chest, ready to take on his attacker. All around him, other huffs sounded, giving laughter to the situation. Alex focused on the wiry brown wolf who had struck him. The wolf appeared to be a bit older than him with dark green eyes. He waved his black-tipped tail as a slight apology.

 

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