by Cheree Alsop
Professor Briggs bowed his head for a moment as if he had been hoping I wouldn’t suggest that.
I looked at the Headmistress. She nodded. “That’s fair. Trace, will you do it?”
The professor didn’t look at me when he walked past. His limp was a brutal reminder of the damage he had barely survived when he attacked Conrad to save my mother. Marks from both werewolf and demon finally made sense. The way that night had impacted Briggs’ entire life showed in the heaviness of his steps.
I watched Conrad tense as though he feared Briggs would attack him again. Instead, the professor paused about a foot away.
I heard him sniff. It wasn’t tentative or meek. No, the professor wanted to know for himself as much as for the rest of us. He leaned in as he breathed out, then sucked in a breath inches from Conrad’s chest. It struck me that the professor smelled the werewolf’s heart, the source of life, and the center of what made Conrad who he was.
The professor stepped back with his eyes closed. He sat silently for a few seconds, then let the breath out. He turned away without meeting Conrad’s eyes again.
“Well?” the Headmistress demanded.
Professor Briggs glanced at me, then away. He straightened and said, “He smells stained, that’s certain, but there is no evil in that man.” The admission seemed to take something from him. I couldn’t tell if disappointment or anger made the professor’s hands clench, but he was quiet for several long seconds before he finally let out a breath and glanced at the Headmistress. “This is your call, Fanny.”
Headmistress Wrengold looked around at the students. “The actions we take at this school impact the rest of mythic kind.” She hesitated, then said, “We can’t punish someone for something beyond their control. As much as I miss my husband, I know you wouldn’t do that of your own accord.” Her voice lowered and she held Conrad’s gaze. “I remember what a good student you were. Rowdy, a bit out of control, perhaps, but good.” A single tear fell down her cheek. “You weren’t a murderer. And I have wrestled with that thought ever since that night. This may not have been the most conventional way to find out what happened,” she said with a glance at me. “But it’s right that we learn the truth.”
The Headmistress looked at each professor in turn. At last, she held Professor Briggs’ gaze until he gave a reluctant, short nod.
“Your assistance is welcome, Conrad Roe. Welcome back,” she said. “We have an empty room in the professors’ wing you can call your own until this matter is resolved.”
Conrad sagged in relief. He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed it. Professor Briggs turned and stalked away through the students without another word. I felt as though I had betrayed him somehow, but I couldn’t take it back.
Later that night I was sitting on my bed toying with my cellphone. It wasn’t set up for anything but phone calls and texts, yet the last text I had received was the one that warned me of my parents’ kidnapping. I couldn’t help checking it every few minutes to ensure that they were still safe. It was an unsettling feeling.
I eventually forced myself to put it down and glanced at Alden’s bed for the hundredth time. I hadn’t seen the Grim since we returned to the Academy. The thought that he and Sparrow might be wandering around somewhere brought me to my feet. I missed the sylph dragon. I wouldn’t feel completely at home back at Haunted High without the little black and purple creature either around my wrist near her name or up riding on my shoulder as had become her new favorite place.
I found myself searching for his scent as I climbed the stairs. The thought made me chuckle to myself. Even in human form, I would forever be a werewolf. That thought didn’t have the sting it used to; instead, I embraced the other side of me, the side I was still getting to know.
Alden’s scent reached my nose. It was fresh. He must have just gone up the stairs. I took them three at a time, anxious to see both of my friends and hope they didn’t hold a grudge toward me for leaving them behind.
“Alden, there you are! I’ve been worried about you,” I said when I reached the thirteenth floor and saw the Grim sitting beneath the window at the end.
I crossed the hallway toward him, but slowed when he lifted his head. Tears showed on his cheeks and the anguish on his face was unmistakable.
“I’m so sorry, Finn.”
I dropped to my knees in front of him. “Alden, what’s wrong?”
He lifted his wrist. It was conspicuously empty.
“Where’s Sparrow?” I asked, unable to hide the fear in my voice.
Alden gestured above him. “I brought her up here every day like you asked me to. She hunted for bugs and loved to fly around. She even caught a grasshopper once. I don’t know how it got up here, especially at this time of year, and it was disgusting to watch her eat it, but she was so happy and you should have seen how good she slept after that. She even caught—”
“Alden, tell me where she is!” I said, panic making my voice tight.
Alden lowered his light blue eyes from mine. “She’s gone, Finn. The other day she flew out the window and hasn’t come back.”
I stared at the window above him. The glass was open a crack, just wide enough for a baby sylph dragon to slip through.
“No,” I said, rising to my feet. I shoved the window up. “No!”
“I don’t know how it happened,” Alden said. “The window was never open before. I thought maybe somebody went to the clubhouse and she followed them up there, but when I checked it, the clubhouse was empty and Sparrow was nowhere to be found.” He buried his face in his hands. “You trusted me and I let you down. I’m so sorry!”
I didn’t know what to say or do. On impulse, I climbed out of the window and called for the dragon as I balanced my way to the clubhouse entrance. A quick check inside showed exactly what Alden had said, nothing. I climbed back down and returned to the window. Inside, I could see my friend hunched over with guilt. I glanced around again. Only the city buildings and the washed-out night sky overhead was visible. No dragon was there to answer my call.
I clambered back inside and did my best to calm my expression. I set a hand on Alden’s shoulder. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, willing my voice to remain steady. “It’s not your fault. I’m sure she’ll come back.”
But I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure at all. The dragon had been entrusted to me. She had even sacrificed her life to me and then sworn herself to me instead of going with the Grim to whatever lay beyond for sylph dragons. I had left her in the hopes of keeping her out of danger, but maybe she had felt betrayed. Maybe she had gone off searching for me.
Guilt squeezed my heart so hard it hurt in a way that reminded me of being on Sir Harbrand’s table. I took several steadying breaths and the pain slowly faded. Without any other option, I held out my hand to Alden. “I don’t blame you. I’m the one who left her. This is on my shoulders, not yours.”
The little Grim surprised me by throwing his arms around me and hugging me tight.
“I thought you’d hate me for sure,” he said with a sob. “You’re my best friend here and pretty much my only friend unless I have food that Brack wants or if I let someone else study from my notes.” He stepped back. “I don’t know what I’d do if you were mad at me.”
“I’m not mad,” I said, trying to reassure us both. “We’ll figure out how to get her back. I doubt she’s gone far.”
It took all of my willpower not to run straight to Professor Seedly, shake him out of bed, and demand to know how to find the sylph dragon. Only the fact that she had been gone several days kept me walking to the room I shared with the Grim. It would have to wait until morning.
I settled on my bed and shut my eyes. I could hear Alden sniff occasionally in his bed and felt horrible for the worry I had inadvertently caused him when I entrusted him to watch over Sparrow.
Sparrow was so innocent and young. She was too fragile to be out in the world by herself, especially in a world that didn’t believe dragons existed in the first pl
ace. But she knew where home was, and I had returned to her before. I hoped that after she had her adventure, she would come back to the place where I always returned. I told myself that everything would work out. It just had to.
On the cliff’s edge between sleep and awake, a sound caught my attention. My eyes flew open just as hands grabbed my arms and legs. A black bag was thrown over my head. I struggled to break free.
“Move and die,” someone whispered into my ear.
I threw him over my shoulder. Something slammed into my head and everything went dark.
Haunted High Book 5
Ashes of Night
By Cheree Alsop
Chapter One
“Something’s following us.”
The strange voice woke me. At the feeling of the bag over my head and my hands cuffed in front of me, I kept perfectly still.
“What is it?”
“It looks like a vampire.”
“Why is a vampire following us?”
“How do I know? I didn’t think vampires could run so fast.”
They sounded tense. I bided my time. My head ached. I tried to remember what had brought me there. I remember returning to the Academy and stopping a fight between Uncle Conrad and Professor Briggs. When I went to bed, Alden had been missing. I tracked him down and he told me about Sparrow flying away. The thought of the baby sylph dragon lost somewhere in the city gripped my heart. I willed my breathing to slow as I fought to remember.
I had laid on my bed and was just about asleep when hands grabbed me in the dark. Someone threw the bag over my head. I remembered a threat.
“Move and die,” someone had whispered into my ear.
I grabbed him and threw him over my shoulder, then something hit the back of my head. At least my headache made sense.
“Drive faster.”
“I am driving faster!”
“Maybe I can shoot him. Hold on.”
The sound of a zipper was followed by the metallic click of clip sliding into a gun. It was a sound I knew all too well. The person to the right of me rolled down his window. That meant the driver sat in front of me. A quick check showed fast breathing from the front seat. There was something different to their scent, something I had smelled only once before. My heart sped up at the realization that I was surrounded by werewolves.
“Steady,” the man in the driver’s seat commanded. “That’s it. A little closer.”
If Vicken was the one following the car, I couldn’t let him get shot.
“No!” I shouted.
I threw my bound hands over the driver’s head and pulled. He gave a strangled yell. I felt the car jerk to the left, then to the right. The car struck something that sent us flipping through the air.
I didn’t know if it was worse watching us roll or experiencing it with a bag covering my eyes. My back slammed into the roof and then I fell back to the seats while my companions bounced around me. I wondered if any of them had thought to wear a seatbelt. If they had put one on me when I was unconscious, I wouldn’t have been able to reach the driver. I figured being in the middle of rolling to a stop wasn’t the time to preach vehicle safety.
The car finally halted on its hood. With my body twisted and upside down, I managed to shove the bag away. It was night and the car lights had gone out during the crash. I took advantage of the darkness to kick out the glass on my side.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the person beside me demanded with a groan.
I ignored him and wiggled my way through the window. I was about to stand when a hand grabbed my arm with a grip of steel.
“Finn, are you alright?”
I grinned at Vicken’s worried expression. His fangs glowed in the moonlight. The accident had landed us down a slight hill from the road. No other cars were in visible. I rolled my shoulders to check for damage. I would have bruises, but nothing worse.
“I’m harder to kill than that.”
“Tell me about it,” he replied drily. “I—”
Vicken jerked backwards with a hand on his shoulder. The sound of a gunshot rang out.
“Wait!” I shouted. I threw myself in front of the vampire. He fell to his knees. I looked back to see one of the werewolves stand up from his hiding place behind the car.
“That should hold him,” he said with a satisfied nod.
I launched myself at the werewolf. He backed up several steps in surprise at my attack. I hit him so hard he landed on his back. My hands closed around his throat.
“I was doing you a favor!” he said tightly. “The vampire was going to kill you!”
“The vampire is my friend,” I growled.
His eyes widened. “Th-that changes things.”
“That was a good shot.”
I looked back to see another werewolf standing over Vicken. He carried a gun that matched the one that had shot my friend.
“Stay away from him!” I shouted.
I grabbed the gun the werewolf beneath me still held, rolled to the right to break it from his hand, then rose to a knee with the gun aimed at the man near Vicken.
He quickly held up his hands.
“Whoa, slow down, son. We’re here to help.”
I glared at him, “Step away from my friend.”
His eyebrows rose at my reference to Vicken, but he did as he was told.
“He’ll be fine,” he said. He waved his gun with his hands still up. “It’s a stunner. No big deal. He’ll wake up with a headache. That’s about it.”
The nonchalance to his words after seeing my friend go down made red burn in my vision. I shot him and then shot the werewolf next to me in the chest. Both dropped the way Vicken had. I ran to my friend and checked his pulse. I sighed in relief at the feeling of his heartbeat beneath my fingers.
“Let’s get you out of here,” I told Vicken.
I knelt and picked him up in my arms. It wasn’t an easy feat given the manacles around my wrists, but I managed. The sound of cars pulling off the road made me hurry.
“If we can just find somewhere to hide until you wake up—”
“What’s going on here?”
The woman’s voice was gruff and deep. I turned slowly and glanced up the hill. Four men stood on either side of a middle-aged woman wearing green cargo pants and a brown shirt. All had guns trained on us. Even with the one I held in my hand beneath Vicken’s legs, I didn’t have a chance. Firing uphill and unable to aim would be a losing battle at best.
I watched her carefully, aware that the sight of the two fallen werewolves behind me didn’t bode well for the encounter. Even though I was downhill and couldn’t smell them, the moonlight that reflected off of their gazes let me know they were also werewolves. I didn’t have time to be amazed that I was currently surrounded by more werewolves than I had ever encountered in my life; my friend’s wellbeing was literally in my hands. I had to play it smart.
“They kidnapped me. I don’t take kindly to being kidnapped,” I said levelly.
The woman’s expression was calculating when she replied, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. My pack was on a rescue mission.” She crossed her arms. I glimpsed what looked like the head of a wolf branded on her forearm.
I shook my head. “Rescue should be willing, don’t you think? And they shot my friend. That doesn’t sound like a rescue to me.”
The woman gave a shallow nod. “I’m afraid some procedures may not have been followed accurately. They’ll be held accountable for their actions.”
“I’d like to return to the Academy,” I told her.
A glimmer of surprise showed in her eyes. “The Academy doesn’t allow werewolves.”
“It does now,” I replied. “And as far as I knew, I was the only one.” I gave the men with her a searching glance.
Her lips pulled up in the barest hint of a smile. “Our secrecy is our protection. I’m just sorry we had to meet this way.”
“Me, too,” I began. “But—”
The snap of a twig w
arned me a second too late. I spun and fired. My bullet went wide at the same time that one impacted high on my sternum. Numbness flowed instantly through me. I fell to my knees, then collapsed on top of Vicken.
“Sorry,” I mumbled as my eyes closed.
Hands grabbed my arms and pulled me away from Vicken.
“See those fangs? And the werewolf’s friends with the vampire. I’m not so sure about this,” a male voice said.
“Look at the mess he made. Are you sure he’s worth it?”
“This certainly isn’t going the way I planned,” the woman said. “Get him back to the Den.”
“What about the vamp?”
“We’ll have to take him with us.”
“We should leave him here to die of thirst. That’s what he deserves for attacking us,” a man suggested gruffly.
The woman’s voice was heavy when she said, “No. We’ll keep him under. We don’t need another fiasco like the winter slaughter.”
“He’ll need blood.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“What about the car?” someone else asked.
“Burn it,” the woman ordered.
I was set in the back of another vehicle. Though I couldn’t get my eyes to open, my brain refused to slide into unconsciousness. I wondered if I was actually getting used to being shot. Perhaps I had built up some sort of tolerance. I wasn’t especially sure that was a good thing, but maybe I could use it to my advantage.
By the time we stopped, I had heard references to the Den several times as well as grumbling about some sort of gauntlet.
“You would do better if you learned to keep your nose down and your thoughts wolf,” a man suggested.
“Just because you think like an animal doesn’t mean it’s easy for the rest of us,” the one who was whining replied.
“Quiet,” the woman said. “You’re lucky you passed the trial; it’s a lot more difficult than when you ran it. Keep this up and another year of rounds will be the least you deserve.”
“Yes, Meg,” they both replied sullenly.