by Cheree Alsop
“Tell it to the cat,” Alex replied. He held up his hand where the four little claw marks had almost healed. “It wasn’t very grateful.”
Kalia grabbed his hand and kissed the little marks. “I’m grateful even if the kitten isn’t.”
“Come on, Kalia. Let’s go see if we can find it a box. The poor thing’s probably exhausted.”
Alex listened to their footsteps fade down the hall. His heart gave a little sideways beat. “I’m so confused,” he said.
“You got beat to what looks like an inch of your life over a cat. I think I know where the confusion’s coming from,” Jaze replied.
Alex could still hear the smile in the dean’s voice, but it failed to chase away his sudden melancholy.
“It’s not that. It’s Kalia.”
Jaze fell silent. After a moment, Alex heard him scoot a chair closer to the couch. A glance back showed baby William playing on Jaze’s knee. The little boy had a ball in one hand and a plastic ring in the other. He bit one, then the other as if he couldn’t decide which one to chew on.
“Do you have feelings for her?” Jaze asked. All of the humor was gone from his voice. Fatherly concern took its place.
“I think so,” Alex replied.
Jaze let out a small breath. Alex kept his gaze carefully on the moonlight filtering through the window. Tiny flecks twirled within the white stream, catching the beauty and whirling in it as though bathing in the healing light. Alex wanted to lose himself in the light like the flecks, adrift in nothingness, a part of the world, yet away from it. He closed his eyes.
Jaze’s voice broke through Alex’s silence. “As a werewolf, you will know for sure when you fall in love.”
“I get so confused when I’m around Kalia,” Alex admitted. He sat up and leaned against the back of the couch. “It’s like my thoughts go out the window and I can’t remember what I was doing.”
Jaze nodded. “That could be love, or it could be infatuation. I had a few infatuations before I fell in love with Nikki. That was way back,” he winked. “But I remember the confusion, the need to be around them. But when I met Nikki, it was different.”
“How was it different?” Alex asked.
Jaze smiled and his gaze took on a distant cast. “I felt like there was a string tying us together, like no matter what happened to pull us apart, we were always drawn back to each other. I cared about her so deeply from the very beginning that it scared me to the point that I denied it. I tried to downplay my feelings and tell myself that I was wrong. We weren’t meant for each other.”
“She’s a human,” Alex said.
Jaze nodded. “Werewolves aren’t supposed to fall for humans. But I couldn’t change the way I felt. Fate kept drawing us back together. It was like that string was made of steel and refused to break no matter what either of us did.” Jaze met Alex’s gaze. “Do you feel that way about Kalia?”
“I don’t know,” Alex told him. He shook his head, then ran a hand through his black hair to push it back from his forehead. “I think she might be feeling that way. At least she’s happier when we’re together, and she has this special smile.”
Jaze nodded. “One thing I know for sure, is that if it’s meant to be, you will both feel it the same way. It might take some time, and circumstances can always change, but if it’s meant to be, if it’s true werewolf love, you won’t be able to be away from her for long. Once a werewolf finds that special someone, it’s a forever thing.”
“Even if they die?” Alex asked, thinking of Vance and the way the professor seemed so angry most of the time. He had heard about the death of Vance’s mate Nora during the genocide. Alex saw the loss in the professor’s gaze when he thought no one was looking.
“Even if they die,” Jaze repeated quietly. “Too many have gone through that.”
“We’ll keep it from happening again,” Alex told him.
Jaze looked down at baby William. “I just feel like there is so much more to do, Jet. There are so many others who need us.”
Alex froze at Jet’s name. It took Jaze a minute to realize he had said it. When he looked at Alex again, tears showed in the dean’s dark gaze.
“I’m sorry, Alex.” Jaze wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Sometimes you remind me so much of him. Your mannerisms, the way you look. You have his eyes.”
Alex blinked back his own tears. “But it’s not possible. He’s not my brother.” He hated saying the words, hated the way the truth burned through his chest with fierce anger. Drogan had taken more from Alex than he realized the day he had been captured.
Jaze set a hand on Alex’s arm. “It is possible. You are so much like Jet there’s no denying it. Whether he’s your brother or cousin, it doesn’t matter. You’re walking in the shoes of a great person, the best. You share blood, and you share the same purpose.” Jaze gave a small smile. “I’ll bet Jet would have fought for that little cat, too.”
His words brought a smile to Alex’s face. “Maybe so,” Alex agreed.
Chapter Eight
“Alex, wake up!”
Alex opened his eyes to find Trent’s excited face inches from his own. Trent adjusted his glasses that made his eyes look huge. “You’ve got to hurry!” the scrawny werewolf said.
Alex pushed up to a sitting position and glanced out the window. Pale early dawn light showed through the curtains in his bedroom. “What time is it?” he asked, trying to get his thoughts to focus. He could barely remember making it to his bed in the first place.
“Around fifty-thirty,” Trent replied, shrugging as though it didn’t matter. “Get up!”
Alex obeyed because it appeared the werewolf wasn’t going to let him go back to sleep. He rose, grateful that the moonlight and sleep had chased away most of his aches. He grabbed a shirt from his drawer and pulled it on as he followed Trent into the hallway. Not surprising, the rest of Pack Jericho was still sleeping. Sounds of snoring came from both the girls’ hallway and the boys’; Alex wondered sleepily which of the girls snored.
“Hurry,” Trent urged him.
The student practically flew down the stairs. Alex rubbed his eyes and followed Trent at a slower pace than the boy’s urgency demanded. Trent ran between Alex and the doors to the courtyard three times before Alex finally reached them.
Alex had to smile. “What is it, Trent? I haven’t seen you this excited since you got that helicopter engine started.”
“You’ll see,” Trent promised, adjusting his glasses. He shoved the door open and waved his arm with a flourish.
Alex stared at the motorcycle that sat at the bottom of the cement steps. Trent followed him wordlessly down the stairs. Alex set a hand on the shiny black paint.
“Did you make this?” Alex asked, shock clear in his voice. He ran a hand over the chrome that accented the motorcycle’s body. A wolf paw in silver had been airbrushed on either side of the gas tank. Other than that, the motorcycle was pitch black and chrome.
“The dean helped me,” Trent replied. “He got me the parts and I put them together. We just got the painting done yesterday. Terith did the wolf paw.”
“She’s talented,” Alex told him, running a hand over the spotless artwork. “Grace would be proud.”
Trent beamed at the compliment to his sister. “I’ll tell her.” He put something in Alex’s hands.
Alex looked down at the helmet with black and blue lightning crafted along it. The faint etchings of a wolf’s head showed in the waves of the paint. “You want me to ride it?” he asked, surprised.
Trent’s smile deepened. He straightened his glasses and cleared his throat before saying, “Of course. It’s yours.”
Alex stared at him, then at the bike. He looked at Trent again. “You’re giving me this motorcycle.”
Trent nodded.
Alex looked at the bike again. “You’re giving me a motorcycle you and Jaze built.”
Trent gave another nod. “I built it for you, and the dean approved.”
“Jaze said yo
u could give me a motorcycle?” Alex tried to wrap his mind around what the werewolf was telling him. “I can have it?”
“Definitely,” Trent said, repeating, “It’s yours.”
“But why?” Alex couldn’t help the question. He had never received such a gift. He knew how much work Trent put into his projects. There was no doubt the engine was a masterpiece. The student had without question found a way to improve the way it ran as he did with all engines.
“Alex, you’ve done so much for me. I wanted to say thank you.” It was clear by Trent’s tone how much it meant to him.
Alex’s eyebrows drew together as he tried to grasp what was happening. He wondered if he was still half-asleep, or if his pack mate had actually just given him a real motorcycle.
“I don’t think I’ve done that much,” he said.
Trent took a small breath. As Alex watched, the scrawny werewolf blinked quickly. He cleared his throat again. “Sure you have, Alex.” Trent gave him a small smile. “You and Cassie accepted me and Terith as your friends the moment we came to the Academy. We had no one. Our parents died in one of the General’s camps, and we were alone.” He swallowed as though his throat was tight. “You guys have been the best friends anyone could ask for, making sure we’re in your pack, eating together, hanging out during the summer.” A tear broke free. “You’re my best friend, Alex.”
Alex didn’t know what to say. He had always considered Trent his friend, and the werewolf’s words were true, but Alex’s actions had never been with a motive. He just liked Trent’s company and didn’t mind his complaining the way some of the other students did. He knew what Trent and Terith had gone through, and understood Trent’s need to be busy so that the memories didn’t overwhelm him.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Alex said. On impulse, he gave Trent a quick hug.
The werewolf ducked out from his arms. “Uh, that was awkward,” Trent replied. “So let’s not do that again.”
“Agreed,” Alex said with a laugh. He hefted the helmet. “Are you sure about this?”
“Can you drive?” Trent asked.
Alex shrugged. “I’ve never driven a motorcycle, but yeah.”
Trent’s gaze became skeptical. “What did you drive?”
“A Ferrari,” Alex answered.
Trent’s skepticism deepened. “Alright, give the helmet back.”
Alex held it out of the werewolf’s reach. “No, seriously. I’ve driven a Ferrari. I did it at Kalia’s house last Christmas. Her dad gave me the keys.”
Trent’s eyes narrowed. “Is her dad insane?”
“Apparently,” Alex agreed with a laugh. “I almost crashed it into a tree. Boris about lost it. Apparently he wrecked it once before.”
Trent shook his head. “Only you would drive a Ferrari for your first car. I’ll probably never even see one in my entire life.”
“I’ll make sure you do,” Alex promised. He pointed his helmet at the motorcycle. “Especially after this.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Trent said. He grinned. “You’d better get riding. We have school in a few hours.”
Alex swung a leg over the motorcycle. He suddenly felt nervous. “Is there anything I should know about driving it?”
“It’s fast,” Trent replied. At Alex’s rolled eyes, he nodded. “Shift down once for first, and up for the rest. Neutral is up one.”
“How do I shift?” Alex asked.
Trent chuckled as he walked around the other side of the motorcycle. “That’s pretty important.” He pointed to the clutch. “Hold that in, then tap your left foot down one for first. It’s in neutral now. When the RPMs are high enough, kick it up a notch for second, then third, etcetera. Your brake is above your right hand, and at your right foot. Use them both to stop for safety.”
“Is that everything?” Alex asked, though he was afraid he wasn’t going to remember what the werewolf had already told him.
“Uh, don’t kill it?” Trent replied.
Alex smiled. “Thanks.” He put the helmet on and fumbled with the buckle of the chin strap. It took him a minute, but he finally managed to get it snapped.
He looked down at the motorcycle. He had never sat on anything even close to it. The parts were completely custom. It wasn’t any particular make or model; Trent had created an entirely new motorcycle on his own.
Trent reached over and turned the key to the on position, then pressed the starter. The engine rumbled to life. A smile stole across Alex’s face.
“Nice, huh?” Trent asked, pride clear in his expression.
“It’s amazing,” Alex replied.
“Let the clutch out slowly after you shift. Find the sweet spot, and you’re good to go.”
“And Jaze is okay with this?” Alex asked.
Trent nodded. “He said to let you take it for a spin. Just don’t get yourself killed. I told him if bullets, missiles, and Drogan couldn’t do it, I doubted a motorcycle would.”
Alex laughed. “What’d he say to that?”
Trent shrugged. “He said you probably wouldn’t rest until you tried.”
Alex grinned. He shut his visor and shifted the motorcycle down to first gear like Trent had instructed. The engine growled beneath him. A thrum of excitement ran through Alex. He let out the clutch slowly as he rolled the throttle. The motorcycle lurched forward. He let out the clutch and heard the engine falter. Revving the throttle, he pulled in the clutch again until he found a happy medium where the engine wouldn’t die and he wasn’t in threat of whiskey throttling. He let out the clutch more slowly and matched it with the throttle. The motorcycle sped forward.
Within seconds, Alex was out the gates Trent had thoughtfully opened and was racing down the road. The engine roared to a high pitch. He squeezed the clutch and kicked the shifter into second gear. The engine growled again. He pushed it, shifting to third, then fourth when the sound of the engine told him to.
Alex couldn’t stop smiling so big it felt like his face would split into two pieces. If someone saw him, they would think he was crazy. He bent lower over the gas tank, leaning into turns and getting accustomed to the way the motorcycle ate up the road like a hungry beast.
It felt as good as racing through the forest, only he didn’t have to worry about his heart giving out and sending him crashing into trees.
As if in reply, his heart gave a small stutter. Alex just grinned and shook his head. He wasn’t going to stop. He wound down the long single road that made its way through the forest to the Academy. Haroldsburg soon loomed into sight; the small town with its single stoplight was just waking up. Only two cars were out, vehicles Alex sped by as if they were at a standstill. He was through the town in a matter of seconds, then Alex was on his own.
He had never been by himself further than Haroldsburg since the day he and Cassie arrived at the Academy. There was such a rush of freedom, a sensation of breaking out of bars, of leaving walls behind. He had never felt like the Academy was a prison. It had become his home, his sanctuary, but there were times when seeing the same walls, the same windows, the same students, became almost overwhelming, as though if he didn’t find something new, he was going to go crazy.
The fresh world that rushed by him at speeds well over any he could have run filled him with such joy that he had to laugh. He kicked the motorcycle into the next gear. The engine settled into a hum that spread through his arms and legs with contentment as if the motorcycle had also needed the escape. He let out a breath, feeling as if a weight lifted off his shoulders that he hadn’t known he carried.
“Alex?”
Alex nearly jumped at Trent’s voice close to his ear.
“Alex, can you hear me?”
“Hey, Trent,” Alex replied. He searched with his fingers until he found the headset Trent had fit inside his helmet.
“How’s she run?” The pride in Trent’s voice was unmistakable.
“Trent, this is the best gift I’ve ever been given. I don’t know how to t
hank you.”
“Just come back alive,” Trent replied with a chuckle. “If my gift kills my friend, I’m not so sure it was a great gift.”
“Oh, it’s a great gift,” Alex reassured him. “It’s amazing.”
Trent was quiet for a moment, then asked, “When are you coming back?”
“How did you know I’m not?” As soon as Alex asked the words, he knew. “There’s a tracking device on the motorcycle.”
“The dean made me put one on it. He just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
A sharp surge of frustration chased away some of the sense of freedom Alex had been enjoying. He knew Jaze was just looking after him, but he felt trapped, monitored no matter where he went.
Alex tried to keep his tone steady. “Where’s the chip?”
A hint of panic was clear in Trent’s voice when he replied, “I don’t think I should tell you.”
“I just need to know, Trent.”
“Are you upset?”
Alex hated that Trent sounded so worried. The motorcycle had been given with the purest of intentions. Alex tried to let Trent hear how much he appreciated it. “I love this motorcycle. Riding it is the best feeling I’ve had in months.” He shifted down and pulled over to the side of the road. He climbed off the motorcycle as he spoke to Trent. “I just need a bit of escape. I’ll be back, I promise. I just need this, Trent.” He couldn’t hide the whisper of desperation in his voice, and he hated himself for it. His hands clenched into fists. He willed them to relax as he studied the black bike.
“It’s beneath the gas cap,” Trent finally replied. “I put it in a black plastic sleeve that fits into the cap itself so it would be protected from the fluid.”
Alex used to key to open the cap and found the little black circle of plastic directly underneath. He pulled it out.
“I just want you to be safe,” Trent said.
“I’ll be safe,” Alex replied. “You don’t have to worry about me so much.”
“Someone does,” Trent told him.
Alex was about to toss the chip to the ground, yet he hesitated.