by Cheree Alsop
I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye.
He turned to me. “You’re going to make a fine professor someday, Finn.”
I stared at him, then realized he was holding out his hand. I shook it. “Thank you, Professor Briggs.”
He smiled. “I’ll be happy to teach beside you.”
I grinned. “Think I have a shot of making them scared of me the way they are of you so they stop looking at me like that?”
He actually laughed. “Not a chance.”
I sighed and began to walk back to the werewolves who waited for me.
“Oh, and Finn?” Briggs called out.
I glanced back at him.
He tossed something at me. “This should help!”
I caught the object out of the air, then opened my hand to see a moonstone resting on my palm.
I glared at the professor. He had an actual grin on his face.
“I hate you!” I managed to get out before the phase took over.
My shirt ripped. I made a mental note to tell Briggs he owed me for that one. Luckily, we were in the Academy so I would be able to find my shoes again. With as many shoes as I had lost phasing, I was going to be barefoot before my first year at Haunted High was over.
When I was done phasing, Professor Briggs walked over with a jovial expression and scooped up the moonstone into an ironwood box. I growled at him.
He chuckled. “No hard feelings, Finn, but that’s for bringing your uncle back. I know we need his help defeating Chutka and I’ll be civil.” He winked. “Now.”
He pocketed the stone and walked away, leaving the werewolves caught between staring at our little exchange and pretending they didn’t notice it.
Rhett cleared his throat. “Well, you see our Alpha. Phase, boys and girls!”
I didn’t exactly plan on the corridor being filled with twenty-five werewolves, but it happened. It felt like so much more than just the students who had been milling around. At least I had to give the werewolves credit. They were quiet and controlled as they waited for my orders. The problem was that I didn’t know how to give them.
I knew I could push what I wanted done and compel them to follow, but that didn’t feel right. Instead, I made my way down the hallway of doors and left them to follow. My fear that the door to the forest would be locked didn’t come true. When I approached, the door swung open as if of its own accord.
I was used to such things happening at the Academy, but this time it seemed like too much of a coincidence. I stopped and stared at the door for several long seconds. Things at Haunted High happened in a way that made the school live up to its student-given name. I had taken it for granted on several instances, like the front door opening, as well as the front gate, and the fact that the door to the forest was usually open when I needed it to be. But it suddenly bothered me. Why was it open? Who opened it? Was someone watching me? If so, why didn’t I smell them or see them?
With the number of werewolves behind me and the forest beckoning me into the snow with its tantalizing, crisp scent, I pushed my troubled thoughts to the back of my mind. But I vowed to revisit them when I was in human form and such reasoning was easier. There had to be a source behind the assistance I received; I just needed to find out what it was.
When I stepped into the snow, all thoughts of haunted schools, demons, or moonstones left me. Instead came the excited barks and howls of the wolves at my back. I glanced behind me and couldn’t help the wolfish grin that spread across my face.
The wolves acted like puppies experiencing their first snow. They snapped at snow mounds, rolled in the fluffy white stuff, and bit at branches that then made the snow tumble off onto their friends. The sight of even the older wolves letting go of their inhibitions to enjoy just being an animal for the moment filled me with joy. Given the way of life I had seen at the Den, I doubted any of them had ever felt so carefree. No matter what, if I failed at everything else, I had given twenty-four werewolves the opportunity to feel happiness and freedom. That was worth celebrating.
I took off through the snow. At a single yip from me, every wolf followed close behind. I ran for the joy of it and to see what the werewolves would do in a wild setting. As I watched, they instinctively branched off in groups of five or six, choosing the weakest to set their pace while the strongest followed at the back to ensure nobody was left behind. It was interesting to watch the pack dynamics. The older wolves watched over the younger ones and helped them navigate the bigger windfalls or streams we crossed.
I chose specific obstacles to see what they would do. Usually, the younger werewolves would watch the way I did it and then attempt to follow. This happened with climbing snow-covered boulders or traveling down ravines. If the younger wolves couldn’t make it, the older ones found a safer way around. When we all met up on the other side of the obstacle, every wolf appeared pleased to be a part of the pack.
I began to experiment with compelling the wolves to go where I wanted them. At one point, with a single push of an idea, I ran down the middle of a ravine and directed two groups of five to run on either side at the top. The other wolves followed me to the bottom. With my ears, I kept track of the wolves running above. When the ravine ended and the wolves with me took the trail to the top, we met up with the others who appeared thrilled at following my command.
I chose harder and harder obstacles. At one point, I even sent the werewolves an image of a werewolf in a tree. It was hilarious to see several of the older ones try. The younger werewolves sat around me barking and encouraging their packmates. Snorts of laughter and poofs of snow heralded failed attempts. After the last werewolf fell from the skinny branches, they all turned to me with eager expressions.
The realization of what they expected came with the understanding that a leader should never ask those who follow him or her to do something that the leader wouldn’t do. Grinning at my own foolish suggestion, I stood at the base of the tree and studied the branches. It wasn’t that they were high up. A good leap would land me on several limbs thicker than my forearm. It was the concept of landing with four feet instead of two and balancing that way.
I had gotten myself into the situation by throwing out what appeared to be an impossible command. It was my turn to try it.
Gathering my paws beneath me, I leaped into the branches. A mad scramble ensued in which I desperately attempted to place all four feet on separate branches. I failed miserably and ended up falling into the snow. The werewolves massed around me with good-natured snorts and huffs of laughter that I returned. I had learned my lesson.
Conscious of the late hour and the fact that the werewolves would all be sleeping in new rooms that night, I turned us back toward the Academy. A single thought from me was enough to disband the control and set the young wolves running after the older ones. Quick games of tag, steal the stick, and other not-so-very leader-like competitions ensued in which I was usually the instigator.
I blamed it on the fact that I had never actually played like a wolf and had apparently missed a very enjoyable part of a werewolf’s childhood. I had no problem making up for lost time when it meant solidifying friendships among the wolves and increasing their trust in the strange werewolf who had so drastically altered their entire lives.
A stray scent was enough for me to bark out a command that brought every werewolf back to formation. This time, instead of branching off into separate packs with the weaker members in front, I compelled them fall in behind me. It took only a thought for them to group the younger werewolves in the middle and send the strong wolves to either side and the back. When everyone was set, I advanced forward a step at a time.
My straining senses picked up additional signs of the creatures. The crackling of berry bushes joined with huffing, snuffling sounds. The musky scent that wafted to me said that there were four of them. Each individual smell was unique, but carried similar markers.
At my quiet bark, the werewolves behind me stopped. I advanced alone. Rhett gave a worried whi
ne, but I was glad he didn’t follow.
The first bear lifted his head. It was easy to tell by his scent that he was indeed a he, something I hadn’t noticed during our rushed introduction at the Den. Gender hadn’t seemed important at all during that tense time. But in wolf form, it was easy to tell with a sniff that two of the other bears were female, and the smallest one was a male like the first. My brain catalogued the scents without me thinking about it.
At the biggest bear’s huff, the other three bears turned to look at me. I realized how much bigger they were when I was in wolf form. It occurred to me that approaching them as a wolf was probably not the best idea. The bears hadn’t exactly been happy about their transportation in the back of the moving truck, but when we reached the Academy and I showed them the path to the forest door, they had run through without hesitation.
It was neat to see them in their natural habitat. The fact that they had found the berry bushes Professor Seedly loved made me wonder how upset he was going to be, but the bears definitely needed it more. They had torn through the beef sides Mr. Handsworth had been generous to provide from the kitchen stock. They also relished the strawberries that Mrs. Mellon donated to the cause. The fact that the professors had turned out so generously after we had told them the reason we had allowed bears to run through the Academy had touched me deeply.
The biggest bear took a few shuffling steps forward. The massive pawprints he left in the snow were as big as my head. I hoped he didn’t miss his main sustenance of werewolves from the Den.
I could have compelled him. Pushing the Alpha command would have guaranteed my safety; but it felt wrong. Instead, I waited with my muscles tense and my heart thundering in my chest as the bear drew near. I would run away and compel if I had to, but for the moment I hid my fear that he would smash me flat before realizing I was the one who had saved their lives.
The bear paused about a foot from me. He leaned his snout forward and watched me with his small eyes. His nose touched my forehead and he breathed deeply. When he snorted out, his breath moved my fur. He drew his snout back and watched me down his nose. It was an unsettling moment, me uncertain if I needed to spring away to avoid death, and the bear with his unreadable eyes.
Finally, the animal gave another snort. He pushed his muzzle forward again and bumped his forehead against the side of my face. I grinned and licked his nose by way of what I hoped was a wolf greeting. The bear ambled back to his friends. When he returned to eating the berries, I padded back to the wolves. I hoped the fact that I had narrowly escaped death through my own stupidity didn’t show on my face.
Something must have, because Rhett gave a wolfish grin and shoved my shoulder with his. I huffed with laughter and led the werewolves back to the Academy.
“I thought that bear was going to eat you alive!” Rhett said with a laugh when we had phased back to human form.
We sat at the tables in the dark cafeteria going over our little adventure.
“Yeah,” a werewolf named Lizzy said. “He was, like, fifty times bigger than you! How did you dare to approach him?”
“He’s the Alpha,” a young boy who went by Gimmick told them. The awe on the boy’s face when he looked at me made me feel uncomfortable. “He can do anything!”
“Well, not anything,” I told him. “But I have the bad habit of trying anyway.”
The other werewolves laughed.
It felt nice to sit there after the run. The camaraderie with the werewolves was unmistakable.
“It was awesome running and knowing exactly where you wanted us to go,” a boy close to my age said. “I’ve never felt that before. It was as though each of us fit into some sort of machine, and every piece had a purpose.”
I nodded. “It felt that way for me, too.” I smiled at the eager group. “This is honestly my first time being in a wolf pack.” I gestured at the Academy. “I’ve been alone at Haunted High since I started.”
“Why weren’t werewolves allowed here?” a girl asked.
They deserved to know the truth. They might not have to face as much prejudice as I did, but it was vital that they know the danger one of their kind had brought to the Academy, and why parents wouldn’t be thrilled that more werewolves had been allowed back.
“You know what I showed you about the demons?” The mood became solemn as each of the werewolves nodded. “Well, it was a werewolf who released the demons in the first place. He was tricked, he wanted power, and one of the demons used that to control him and attack students and professors at this school.” Sorrow and horror showed on the faces around me. It echoed the emotions in my heart. “A lot of people were killed. Some students even had to become professors to keep the Academy running. It was a hard time for them, and it took a long time for the other monsters to learn to trust werewolves again.” I gave a wry smile. “They’re still learning. We just have to be patient. Fighting Chutka is going to go a long way in dealing with that. We have to stay strong, stick together, and always act for the good of the pack. Can you do that for me?”
Nods came from every student.
That brought another smile to my face. “I know you can. I feel how happy you are to be here. I know you’re going to enjoy it when the demons are gone and our schedules return to normal. This is a great place; you’ll see.”
A little girl raised her hand.
“Yes, Misty?” I asked.
“Some of the monsters are scary,” she said in a timid voice.
I nodded with a warm smile. “They are, but you know what?” I said, leaning forward.
“What?” she asked.
“Every monster in here is my friend,” I told her. I might have been stretching the truth a bit, but I figured that was alright. I hadn’t had a class with every monster at the Academy, but my goal was for the prejudice against werewolves to be completely gone by the end of the year; viewing each student as a friend helped me treat them that way. If I could get the other werewolves to do the same, we might have a chance of succeeding. “Every student at the Academy wants to learn and grow just the way you do,” I said. “And they each have families that love them, and friends they like to hang out with.” I winked at her. “I’ll bet if you give them a chance, they’ll want you to be their friend, too.”
Her eyes were wide when she asked, “But what if they don’t?”
“Then you come talk to me,” I told her. “I find out what the problem is and we’ll fix it together, okay?”
That made her smile. “Okay, Mr. Alpha, Sir.”
I laughed. “Call me Finn.” I looked around at the rest of the group. “Everyone, please call me Finn. I’m not a very good Sir, and I’m still learning how to be an Alpha. Finn suits me fine and I’ll even answer to it.”
The older werewolves chuckled. Gimmick rubbed his eyes.
I stood up. “Time for all good werewolves to get to bed. You each have your bunkmates, right?” The youngest ones nodded while the older ones shepherded them closer. I couldn’t help the pride that filled me when I looked at them. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I told them honestly. “The Academy needs you and I need you. We’re going to make an awesome pack, I promise. Now get some sleep.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Alpha Finn, Sir,” Misty said sleepily as she followed Star to the stairs.
A chuckle escaped me as I watched them go.
Rhett waved before helping Gimmick up the stairs toward the room they would share. I waved back and then leaned against the doorframe to the cafeteria as I watched them file tiredly away.
“You’re going to make an awesome pack, huh?” a voice said from behind me.
Chapter Eleven
I spun around to see Uncle Conrad watching me. I wasn’t sure when he had entered the cafeteria, but the sight of him standing there with his hands in his pockets made me sad. He had eaten in this same cafeteria as a student, and probably laughed and joked the way my new werewolf pack did. I didn’t have to wonder if he missed it. The answer was there in his eyes that matched my mom’
s.
“How many werewolves were here before?” I asked quietly.
“Eleven,” he replied. He lifted a shoulder. “I guess you could say it was a slow couple of years for werewolves.”
I asked the question I didn’t want to. “How many—”
“All of them besides your mother,” he answered without waiting for me to finish. His head hung low. “I killed all of them, Finn. I watched the Darkest Warlock tear through their bodies with my hands and leave them there to die. And I couldn’t stop him.”
He looked at me, his gaze haunted. “I hear them here, laughing and running through the halls, howling to scare the other students like we used to, chasing each other and seeing who could phase the fastest.” He looked around him, his gaze distant. “I’m surrounded by the ghosts of the people I love most, and it’s all my fault they’re not here.”
I thought of Vicken’s words to my uncle. “You didn’t know what you were doing or who you were freeing.”
My uncle fell silent with a lost expression on his face. I wanted to help him, but I didn’t know what to say. I wished Dara was there to ease his pain, but she didn’t deserve it, either. Her ability was both a blessing and a curse. I didn’t want her to hurt in order to help others who were haunted by their own actions.
A thought occurred to me. I glanced at the werewolf. “Uncle Conrad?”
“You don’t have to call me that. I haven’t exactly been much of an uncle to you,” he replied morosely without looking at me.
I gave him a small smile. “You saved my life. That’s pretty uncle-like if you ask me.”
He glanced at me. The barest ghost of a smile touched his eyes but not his mouth. “I guess it is.”
I nodded. “So, Uncle Conrad, do you know why this place is called Haunted High?”
He gave me a skeptical look as if he thought I was playing a joke on him. “The ghosts. Trace told me you encountered a few of those. Sounds like it was a bit of a nightmare.”