The Werewolf Academy Series Boxed Set

by Cheree Alsop

  Alex, on the other hand, had to force down his own feelings of panic. He owed it to Siale to give her his trust, but crossing the street felt like climbing a mountain.

  Siale spoke softly. “My friends have known I’m a werewolf since we were little. We grew up together on the beach and on these streets, and we were in the same classes at school until things got too dangerous. They’re trustworthy.” She looked up at him, her gaze saying how important it was to her.

  “Okay,” Alex replied, pushing down his uncertainty. “I’ll give it a shot.”

  Siale led him to the waiting group.

  “Derek said you were back,” one of the girls said, crossing to give Siale a hug. “It’s been way too long!” She glanced at Alex, then did a double-take. “Who’s the hottie?”

  Siale smiled, taking the question in stride. “Sam, this is Alex. He’s my boyfriend.”

  The rest of the girls hurried to join them. Alex felt all of their eyes on him. He gave what he hoped was a confident smile. The girls immediately smiled back.

  The first girl twirled a strand of her long red hair and smiled at him. “Hi, Alex.”

  “Chill, Sam,” another girl said. “Siale said ‘boyfriend’, remember?”

  Sam shrugged, batting her eyes flirtatiously. “It doesn’t hurt to get to know someone else’s boyfriend, right? I mean, what if it doesn’t work out? He’ll want other options.”

  “Sam!” Siale exclaimed, but she didn’t appear the least bit offended. She slipped her arm through Alex’s and smiled at her friend. “Flirt all you want, but he’s mine.”

  “Yet again, all the cute ones are taken,” a girl with curly black hair said with a dramatic sigh.

  “I heard that,” one of the boys called from the group.

  “Oh, Raven, you’ll find a guy someday,” Siale reassured her.

  Alex found Jerry, the boy he had pinned, standing near the street corner. Several other teenagers waited with him. Alex left the girls talking about cute boys. He forced himself to keep calm, reminding himself that he was far stronger than the teenagers around him, but the detached part of him said that was what he should be worried about.

  He felt all of the boys’ eyes on him when he stopped a few feet from Jerry.

  The teenager smiled. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Alex replied. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did. Are you okay?”

  Jerry nodded. There were still red marks on his neck, but he acted as though nothing had happened. “It’s okay, bro. You needed an outlet.”

  Alex was caught off guard. “An outlet?”

  “Yeah, man. You needed to vent, to rage, you needed an aperture for your emotional escape. I understand the necessity of diffusing a burgeoning fury before it turns into an explosion of epic magnitude. I’m happy I could be the focal point for your necessary dissipation of fervent wrath.”

  Alex stared at him. Jerry smiled back, shoving a strand of dreadlocked hair behind his shoulder.

  One of the other boys laughed, taking pity on Alex. “Don’t worry. Jerry’s got a college vocabulary with a surfer mindset.”

  “A surfer mindset?” Alex repeated.

  Another boy nodded. “You know, the waves contain the secrets of life and all that.”

  “If you don’t live on a board, you don’t live,” a boy with a Mohawk said.

  “Hang ten until the world ends,” another crowed.

  The first boy jostled him. “A bad day surfing beats a good day working.”

  Mohawk grinned at the challenge. “When in doubt, paddle out.”

  His friend replied, “The board is mightier than the sword.”

  Mohawk laughed and said, ““A wave is better than a rave.”

  “Toes to the throes,” a girl called.

  “The thrill is worth the spill,” another said.

  Alex fought back a smile at their enthusiasm. He had no idea what they were talking about, but the fact that Jerry seemed to forgive him gave him room to breathe.

  “You got it all wrong,” Jerry said. The entire group fell silent; even the girls stopped their conversation near the sidewalk. Everyone listened to what Jerry wanted to say.

  The teenager didn’t appear to realize or care that he had such an attentive audience. Instead, he looked toward the ocean as though he saw it despite the blocks of buildings in the way. His voice was almost musical when he said, “It’s not that the ocean wants the surfer to descend to the depths of its ebony waves, or that the surfer is compelled to struggle to stay upon the fluctuating surface. Instead, the ocean and the surfer share a symbiotic soul, the ocean to be ridden and the surfer to throw his life upon a polished tree to ride the breaking tides of the moon’s compulsory pull. Together, they create a beauty unmatched by the swell of dawn or the scintillating sound of the seagull before a storm. The surfer and the sea, heart and heartbeat, each seeking the perfect ride where the soul becomes the wave and the water becomes the blood.”

  Silence fell after Jerry was finished. Someone clapped from the back of the group. Jerry blinked and he focused on his friends, his expression showing his surprise at seeing them there.

  “Good words, Jer,” a teen with long black hair braided in beads said.

  “Come on, Preacher,” another told him. “Let’s grab some grub and get down to the beach.”

  “Sustenance for my stomach would be most appreciated,” Jerry replied, allowing himself to be led away.

  Alex watched them go.

  “Don’t worry about it,” the boy with the beaded hair told him. “Jerry forgave you the second you slammed him. He doesn’t have a vindictive bone in his body.”

  “Vindictive, Brooks, really?” Sam asked.

  He laughed. “I’ve been hanging out with Jerry for too long.” His smile faded and his expression became serious. “But honestly, Alex, when Siale told us who you were, we understood.”

  “You shouldn’t have to understand,” Alex replied.

  “What’s not to understand?” Brooks asked. “Werewolves have had it bad for years. You fight for your life and spend your time with Jaze Carso freeing others of your race from fates worse than death. The rest of us are riding waves and chillin’ on the beach. You’re bound to be on edge, especially with the whole officer betrayal thing.”

  “She told you that?” Alex asked, glancing at Siale.

  The girls had gone back to their conversation, but Siale met his gaze with her warm smile before turning to answer one of her friends.

  “If someone I trusted turned me over to someone else intent on killing me, I think I’d have issues, too,” Brooks said. “I’d probably want to hit every human I saw.” His eyes lit up and he glanced at one of the other boys. “That gives me an idea. Hey Reko?”

  “Yeah?” a teen with spacers in his ears answered.

  “Are the Wharfers playing tonight?”

  Reko nodded. “I saw Flynn by Docker’s. They’re probably already warming up.”

  Brooks glanced up at the waning moon hanging within the stars above. “Plenty of light. Let’s give them a game.”

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” Reko asked, glancing meaningfully at Alex.

  Brooks nodded. “Our boy needs to hit someone. Let’s give him someone to hit.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Alex said.

  Reko’s face lit up and he nodded with enthusiasm as if Alex hadn’t spoken. “I’ll spread the word.”

  Alex watched the boy run to the rest of the group. “Is there something I need to know?”

  Brooks shrugged. “Only that we play the Wharfers every couple of days down at the beach. We’re pretty well matched except for Flynn, their quarterback.”

  “You mean football?” Alex asked, grateful to finally be on familiar footing.

  “Yeah, you play?” Brooks replied.

  Alex nodded. “I’m the quarterback for my school.” He caught himself and said, “We have just a school league is all, nothing serious.” If word got out that a werewolf footba
ll team was making the rounds through school tournaments, Alex didn’t want to imagine the investigations that would follow.

  “Great,” Brooks said. “Let’s go.”

  Alex threw Siale a questioning look. She laughed. “Oh, no. Don’t look at me. The girls aren’t getting involved in this one. You guys have fun and we’ll cheer from the sidelines.”

  “Yeah,” girl named Sariah said to Cassie. “The boys are crazy.”

  “Crazy for a good time,” Mohawk replied.

  “That was super lame,” Sariah told him.

  Mohawk laughed and took her hand. “You like it when I’m lame.”

  “I like you,” Sariah said. “The lameness, not so much.”

  She laughed when Mohawk picked her up and carried her across the street toward the ocean. “As long as you say you like me, that’s all that matters,” Alex heard him say.

  Everyone made their way to the beach. Alex followed Brooks and the others north when they hit the sand. Siale’s friends jumped around and jostled each other, their excitement contagious. Alex couldn’t help getting caught up in it when Brooks grabbed the ball Reko had brought from who knows where and motioned to him.

  “Go long!”

  Alex took off running up the beach. Brooks threw the ball and he grabbed it, spinning at the last minute to dodge around a group of girls cooking hotdogs over a driftwood fire. He took several steps back and threw the ball in a tight spiral. It zipped past Brooks and two other boys right into Tennison’s ready hands.

  Brooks looked from Tennison to Alex. “I think we know who’s playing quarterback.”

  Tennison nodded. “Just wait. He’s got skills.”

  Alex smiled at his friend’s compliment. “Only because my receivers are awesome.”

  Brooks grinned. “Flynn’s not gonna know what hit him.” He nodded over Alex’s shoulder. “Looks like they’re ready for us.”

  Alex glanced back to see a group of boys tossing a football a short distance away. Soda bottles filled with sand marked the end zones. The moonlight overhead was bright enough to light the beach without a problem. Spectators already lined the makeshift field.

  A tall boy with long blonde hair eyed him down when Alex and the others met them in the middle of the sandy field.

  “Who’s the newbie?” Flynn asked.

  “This is Al...uh, Al,” Brooks replied. He turned slightly and winked at Alex. “Al’s from inland.”

  “Living without the depthless oceans is unfathomable,” Jerry said with a hint of worried confusion. “Without the knowledge of the perceptive waves, how is one to know the actuality of existence?”

  “No one knows,” Flynn replied with good humor as if he was used to Jerry’s ways. He tossed the football in the air and caught it again. “Ready for a game?”

  “Are you ready?” Reko asked in challenge.

  Flynn grinned. “Born ready.”

  Mohawk pulled a coin from his pocket. “Call it in the air.”

  “Heads,” Flynn replied.

  When the coin landed with the tails side up, Brooks called, “Our ball.” He motioned for his friends to join him in a huddle.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “What’s the plan, coach?” Reko asked.

  Brooks nodded at Alex. “Alex is the plan. Catch the ball when he throws it at you and score.”

  “Got it,” Reko said. He grinned as they made their way to the center. “Best plan ever.”

  “That’s what you think,” a member of the other team said from across the line.

  “It’s what I know,” Reko shot back.

  Alex waited until everyone was set, then called, “Hike.”

  Mohawk tossed him the ball. He fell back a few steps and kept his gaze on Brooks who was double-covered, all the while watching Tennison out of the corner of his eye. The werewolf juked left, faking out his coverage before running for the end zone. Alex let the ball fly. Tennison caught it with ease and let himself get tackled halfway to the other side.

  “So that’s how it’s going to be?” Flynn asked, eyeing Alex as they settled on the new line.

  “That’s how it’s going to be,” Brooks replied with a grin.

  “Hike,” Alex called. He caught the ball and checked both sides. Tennison was covered. Brooks and Reko were held up by blockers, as were the other members of their team. There was a shot to the end zone if Alex cut left and spun around Mohawk and his defender.

  Alex tucked the ball and ran. He spun, then the way was free. Two steps later, a force slammed into him so hard he hit the ground in a puff of sand.

  Alex stared at Flynn. The quarterback of the other team gaped back in realization. Flynn gave his head a slight shake. Alex nodded and rose to his feet, his instincts suddenly on edge.

  “Keep it cool,” Flynn whispered when Alex passed him on his way back to the line.

  Alex turned the ball in his hand, caught off guard but curious as to why a werewolf was hiding out playing football on the beach instead of at the Academy where it was safe. The voice in the back of his mind noted that safe was a loose term of late, but he pushed the thought away.

  “Hike,” he called.

  Brooks made it past his defender and ran for the end zone. Alex threw a tight spiral that hit the human in the chest just before he crossed the line made by the soda bottles.

  “Touchdown!” Reko yelled. Several of the team high-fived each other.

  “Take that,” Mohawk said.

  The other team shot them dirty looks and gathered on the line.

  Brooks motioned for his team to huddle. “Who’s got Flynn?”

  “I do,” Alex said.

  The others stared at him. “The dude’s like hitting a brick wall,” Reko warned, shoving his sun-bleached hair out of his eyes.

  “Yeah,” Mohawk seconded. “It’s like you’re the bug and he’s the windshield.”

  “More like you’re an insignificant speck of sputum colliding with an unyielding pane of glass,” Jerry said, his gaze distant as if he wasn’t thinking of the football game at all.

  “That’s exactly what I said,” Mohawk replied, following them back to the line.

  “Ready for the reply?” Flynn asked. He raised his eyebrows at Alex.

  Alex grinned at the challenge. “Ready.”

  “Hike.”

  Flynn backpedaled a few steps. His gaze flicked from one receiver to the next. Alex counted to ten. As soon as the seconds were up, he rushed the quarterback.

  In the space of a heartbeat, they were both in the sand. Stunned silence came from both the players and those who watched the game.

  “Dude,” Reko said, his voice carrying over the beach. “Nobody’s ever sacked Flynn!”

  Alex sat up and eyed the werewolf next to him. Flynn grinned. “There’s always a first.”

  Alex climbed to his feet and held out his hand. The werewolf took it and rose.

  “That’ll be the last time, though,” Flynn said in challenge.

  “We’ll see about that,” Alex replied.

  When he reached the line, Brooks slapped him on the back. “That was the awesomest thing I’ve ever seen!” the human exclaimed.

  Alex shrugged. “Beginner’s luck.”

  “Whatever,” a boy with blue hair called. “You hit him like a boss! Do it again.”

  “I’ll try,” Alex told him, fighting back a laugh at his team’s enthusiasm.

  “Hike,” Flynn called. He released the ball before Alex reached ten. The tight spiral hit one of his receivers in the arms and he was tackled close to the end zone.

  “Come on, Al,” the quarterback said. “How you gonna stop that?”

  Alex smiled as he made his way to the new line. “You’ll see.”

  This time, instead of waiting to rush, Alex fell back. Flynn’s eyes flickered to the right before he let go of the ball. Alex darted in that direction and caught the ball before it reached Flynn’s receiver.

  Alex took off running. His team and the onlookers cheered as he made his
way toward the opposite end zone. He was almost there when the force of a battering ram slammed him to the ground. He couldn’t stop smiling when Flynn held out a hand and helped him back to his feet.

  “Nice hit,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, would’ve killed the others,” Flynn replied as they waited for the humans to fall in at the line.

  “Good thing I’m tough,” Alex said.

  Brooks took the spot next to Alex. “Got that right! Let’s score and end this thing.”

  “End it?” Alex asked. “We just started.”

  Brooks answered, “We started playing late. The girls have the barbecue going. We don’t want to miss the hotdogs.”

  “Life is best when given a slaughtered carcass that has been mutilated and mashed, pressed into an edible cylindrical form, cooked to perfection by scorching in flames while skewered on a tree limb, laid between a creased piece of toasted dough, and slathered in mutilated tomatoes,” Jerry said.

  Mohawk rolled his eyes. “You have a way of describing food that makes it sound a bit less appealing, Preacher.”

  Jerry gave him a confused look as if he didn’t know what the boy was talking about. “Descriptions are merely words framed around the subject of which the descriptor is describing.”

  Mohawk stared at him. “Uh, you lost me.”

  “Let’s get this party over with,” Flynn said.

  “Gladly,” Brooks replied.

  When Alex called hike, everyone ran for the end zone. Alex knew it was only a matter of seconds before Flynn flattened him to the ground. He counted in his head as he searched for an open teammate, but everyone was occupied. Tennison could have used his werewolf skills to lose his coverage, but it would have been obvious. Alex was glad his soon to be brother-in-law knew to keep a low profile.

  “Ten,” Flynn called.

  Alex watched the charge out of the corner of his eye. The werewolf came in with the force of a bull, intending to smash Alex to the ground hard enough that he would remember it.

  Instinct took over. Alex waited until just before the werewolf hit him and ducked his right shoulder. He caught Flynn low in the chest and forced himself back up. The werewolf’s momentum combined with Alex’s movement threw him up and over Alex in a flip that landed him on his back on the ground.