Academy of Assassins (An Academy of Assassins Novel Book 1)

by Stacey Brutger

  “I don’t have much time, princess. You’re in danger.” The man shot a terrified glance over his shoulder, his movements jerky. “I’m using the last of my power to contact you. I can’t protect you Earthside any longer. You must come home.”

  Something about his soft voice made her skin crawl, sending her heart slamming against her ribs at the mere sight of him. “Home?”

  She was looking at a male version of herself.

  His hair and coloring were the same as hers, but that was where the similarities ended. He was downright gorgeous, but something about him made her want to puke.

  “Don’t you recognize me?” A small, charming smile tipped the corners of his lips, and the compulsion to run nearly overwhelmed her.

  Morgan shook her head, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

  “I’m your cousin…Ethan. I’ve come to save you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Save me?” Morgan parroted, fighting the urge to vomit. No matter how hard she tried to move, she couldn’t step away from the mirror. Something was pulling her forward, and it was all she could do to resist the compulsion.

  Ascher stumbled to her side, barely conscious, and grabbed her hand.

  Ethan scowled at the beast, something dark moving in his eyes. “They are killing young girls in their search for you. They won’t stop until they find you.” He held out his hand to her. “We must hurry, we don’t have much time.”

  Morgan’s stomach dipped dangerously at the truth of his words.

  “I say we turn her over.” Catalina’s voice was cold.

  Ascher snarled, and Morgan grabbed for him before he could lunge at Catalina. The witch was completely unfazed. “We’re talking about witches losing their lives. She’s not worth their loss.”

  It was her job to protect others, and if going with him would stop the killings, what choice did she have?

  The mirror rippled, the portal fading, and he scowled, clearly frustrated. “They are not your friends. They’re trying to keep you from your birthright. This is your home. They’re keeping your powers imprisoned. I can help set you free. All you have to do is step through the portal.”

  Kincade completely ignored Ethan and stepped in front of her, his distrust of the other man clear in his eyes. “Someone is going to a lot of trouble to get their hands on you. We need to find out why first.”

  Magic shimmered in the room as the portal began to shut down.

  “We have to go.” Ethan held out his hand toward her, and she felt another tug of magic urging her to go with him. “Now.”

  “No.” Kincade and Ascher spoke in unison, both of them blocking her path.

  Her heart did a funny flip at seeing the two of them working together.

  MacGregor shoved aside the young woman wrapping up his head. “If you go through that gate, you will not be going alone. Ascher is too weak to protect you, and he’ll end up killing himself when he follows.” The effort of speaking winded him, and he gave a loud, hacking cough that left his lips bloody. “Kincade will follow, too. Possibly the others. What do you think will happen to them in the void?”

  They would die.

  For her.

  It was too much.

  As if sensing she was weakening, MacGregor struck. “He can’t force you to go with him. The torque is keeping you hidden. He knows more about the murders than he’s saying. Don’t sacrifice yourself now, not when you might be the only one who can stop the killings.”

  Overwhelming relief slammed into her.

  The last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near her cousin.

  “Don’t be foolish.” Annoyance flickered across Ethan’s face. When she made no move to go to him, he dropped his hand, and every expression on his face vanished. “Remember this. What happens next is your doing. You will submit to me…eventually”

  The surface of the mirror shimmered, and his image disappeared.

  The magic from the Primordial World flashed into the room and seeped into her skin. The runes on her back flexed, pressing deeper into her body, dragging the magic into her very bones and absorbing it.

  Ascher sagged against her, and she shoved away her troubling, wrapping her arms around his waist to keep him upright. “We need to get you and MacGregor back to the Academy.”

  “And you.” MacGregor wilted. “They now know what you look like. They’re going to come after you hard and fast. We need to speak with the headmistress and let her know trouble is coming.”

  The mirror rippled as the witch opened the portal, and the sigils flickered, turning back to gold. Her image shimmered and faded, replaced by the reflection of the Academy. Morgan took a step forward, dragging Ascher with her, until Catalina stepped in her way.

  “The hellhound stays. He’s a danger, his identity unknown. He could be the one who led the attack. We can’t risk it.”

  Fury bubbled up from Morgan’s gut. Her hands curled into fist, fighting against the urge to deck Catalina.

  “He was injured saving your life, you ungrateful bitch.” She refused to leave Ascher behind. Never again.

  Catalina smirked. “Too bad you don’t have any power to run the mirrors. It’s not your decision.”

  The fuck it wasn’t.

  Morgan strode forward, pulling a barely conscious Ascher with her. Catalina’s smug smile faded. Without a second’s hesitation, Morgan twisted and brought up her elbow, slamming it into the witch’s face. Bones gave a satisfying crunch, and the bitch dropped to the floor, clutching her nose, blood gushing between her fingers.

  Ignoring the shocked gasps, Morgan stepped over her legs, then shoved Ascher through the mirror. She turned, and saw Draven hauling MacGregor to his feet, a grimace of pain crossing the old man’s face.

  Knowing he was in good hands, Morgan stepped through the mirror.

  The darkness wasn’t so deep this time. She could almost see shadowy shapes moving, and the air wasn’t as cold. The markings along her back burrowed deeper, until they felt stamped into her bones, her spine arching as liquid heat rushed through her blood.

  The pleasure lasted only a few seconds, when pain slashed deep into her body, the worst of her wounds searing shut in one vomit-inducing second. Her vision dimmed, the world spun, and she was yanked forward, then spit out through the other side of the mirror.

  MacGregor had arrived first, but only by a few seconds.

  Their abrupt arrival startled the waiting team.

  Not wanting people to look too closely at Ascher, needing to get him away from the others, Morgan snapped out orders. “Get MacGregor to the infirmary. And someone get the headmistress. She needs to know about the latest developments.”

  Three people hoisted up the old man, while more were assessing and working on his wounds. In under a minute, he was on a gurney and on the way out the door.

  One person ran for the headmistress.

  Which left Morgan to deal with the remaining two.

  “We’re the first wave. The rest remained behind to close the rift. There are more wounded. Replenish the supplies and get more people in here.”

  The snotty girl from the infirmary glanced suspiciously at the mirror. “How many?”

  Survivors.

  Morgan swallowed hard at the pitiful number. “Six.”

  The girl blanched, then squared her shoulders. “Bring me your friend, and I—”

  “You’re in charge here. You need to be prepared for more injuries. I’ll take him.” No way in hell was she leaving Ascher again.

  She needed to find a place to stash him, somewhere no one would look for him.

  If they found out he was a hellhound, they would—at best—remove him from the school grounds. At worse, they would have him killed.

  Not happening.

  Grabbing Ascher’s arm, she hauled it over her shoulder, taking most of his weight, and dragged him out of the room. Even with her extra strength, he was dead weight.

  The first place they would look would be her room.

&nb
sp; She knew of only one place where people wouldn’t think to search for them…the guys’ barracks.

  She reached the first landing and half propped, half pinned Asher against the stone as a group of people hurried down the hall. She thought she managed to elude everyone, until the last person she wanted to see stumbled into view and spotted her.

  “What happened?” Neil rushed forward, sounding alarmed as he helped lift Ascher when he began to slide down the wall. “Let me help.”

  “No.”

  Neil stopped, his face losing all expression, and she felt like she just kicked a puppy. “We can’t bring him to the infirmary.”

  Then he did something she never expected. He sniffed Ascher. Instantly, curiosity brightened his eyes. “What is he?”

  She didn’t want to tell him, but she couldn’t risk that he would try to stop her. They needed to get moving. “Hellhound.”

  “Holy shit. Really?”

  Something about the way he studied Ascher reminded her of Catalina—like he wanted to take Ascher apart to see what made him tick. Bile churned in her stomach, and she cursed herself for foolishly trusting the boy.

  She needed to get Ascher away.

  Now.

  “I can hide him in my room.”

  Morgan took more of Ascher’s weight and began to move them faster through the halls. “No, I won’t risk him being discovered.”

  “I can disguise his smell. No one would ever know.” The urge to shove Neil away and protect Ascher was nearly overwhelming. The darkness inside her stirred, and she breathed deeply to push away the need to eliminate the threat.

  “No. Using magic hurts you. I won’t help you kill yourself.” Morgan steered them toward a set of stairs, then took all of Ascher’s weight against her. “Anyway, the hunters are too good. I just need time to stitch up his wounds and get him out of here alive. I can take it from here. The less you know about us, the less trouble you will be in.”

  Neil shot her a confused look, but obediently backed away, his glasses knocked askew. “Okay.”

  Dejection slumped his shoulders.

  The curiosity in his eyes didn’t vanish.

  It sharpened.

  Wanting to ensure he didn’t follow, she quickly smiled at him. “But you can do something…if you’re willing.”

  He immediately nodded. “Whatever you need?”

  “Can you make sure no one follows us?”

  Neil chewed on his bottom lip in indecision, studying Ascher harder, and Morgan tried to shield him with her body the best she could. “You sure? If he gets loose and hurts—”

  “I’m sure.” Morgan could feel Ascher’s blood trickle down her back where they were touching. “He’s in no condition to hunt. I can handle him. Please?”

  Very reluctantly, Neil nodded. “You’ll owe me.”

  Relief loosened the knots in her shoulders. “Thank you.”

  She watched him leave, tapping into the stones of the Academy to track him, only taking a deep breath when he didn’t double back to follow them.

  It took ten minutes of hauling Ascher’s ass up the stairs before she reached her destination.

  Only to find the doors closed and warded.

  Morgan knew she could hack the magic, but it would take time.

  Time Ascher didn’t have.

  She slammed her fist against the door in frustration, and magic swarmed up from the wood like angry bees. It investigated her fist, the sensation like ants crawling over her skin. Then, much to her shock, the doors clicked open, the wards granting her access. Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Morgan grabbed Ascher once more and shouldered her way into the barracks.

  She guided him toward the closest empty room, right next to Atlas, and settled Ascher onto the bed. If anything, Ascher looked in worse shape, his face sweaty and pale, his eyes barely open, his wounds bleeding through the hastily-wrapped bandages he received at the coven.

  She needed supplies.

  After ransacking the main area and coming up empty, Morgan headed straight toward Kincade’s room. He was too organized, too anal, not to have supplies. She found them in the army locker at the end of his bed, along with a slew of weapons.

  As she straightened with her loot, a movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention. She whirled, dropping the box of supplies and grabbed her blades.

  Only to confront a cloudy mirror.

  But the longer she stared, the clearer the image became.

  That’s when she saw them…the guys. They were traveling through the trees at a run.

  Hunting.

  Drawn forward, Morgan touched the mirror, but a solid surface met her fingertips.

  Not a portal.

  “Son of a bitch!” Kincade’s familiarity with her fighting style began to make sense.

  He’d been spying on her.

  Anger seared through her at his deceit.

  At the lies.

  It all made sense. The way he anticipated her moves when they fought, how he could mimic her exactly. Why he seemed so surprised when they first met…because he’d seen her before.

  It all made horrible sense.

  Not only did he know she could fight, but the bastard still gave her a hard time.

  Made her feel inadequate.

  It didn’t explain his grumpiness toward her—or maybe it did.

  He really didn’t like her.

  The longer she watched the mirror, the more exposed she felt, wondering what exactly he had seen while watching her.

  The creep!

  A thump and cursing drew her away from the mirror.

  Ascher!

  Quickly scooping up the supplies, she hurried two rooms down to find Ascher trying to pick himself up off the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Morgan dropped the supplies on the desk, then grabbed his arm, helping him back onto the bed.

  “You were gone.”

  Morgan rooted around in a medical kit the size of a piece of luggage, unable to connect this guy to the hellhound she knew. If she hadn’t seen him change with her own eyes, she would never have believed it.

  Knowing she couldn’t avoid him any longer, she grabbed the swabs and began cleaning his wounds, concentrating on her tasks so she didn’t have to look him in the eye. His skin was hot to the touch, the peroxide drying in seconds. A knot formed in her gut, and she wondered if he had a fever or if the heat was the result of him being a hellhound.

  It felt odd to be close to him, touching him, and she was unable to stop recalling every word she ever told him, going over and over everything they’d shared.

  Things she never would have told anyone else.

  She had trusted him completely, and she wasn’t sure where they stood now.

  He knew everything about her, probably knew her better than she knew herself, while she knew nothing about him.

  She didn’t like it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you could turn human?”

  “I was going to, but you’re prickly with others. I finally decided to get you used to me first. I couldn’t risk losing you. It was more important to keep you safe.”

  He sucked in a harsh breath, and Morgan lightened her touch, realizing that in her annoyance she had been pressing on his wound harder than necessary to clean it. “Sorry.” She paused, and swallowed hard. “I thought I lost you when you went through the portal. I never expected to see you again.”

  Morgan didn’t know how to feel about him. Too see him alive did something to her heart, but the lies left her emotions twisted into knots.

  She wasn’t sure how to react, so she decided to stick to a safer subject.

  She owed him at least that.

  “Thank you for protecting Macgregor. You saved his life.” Morgan dropped another bloody cotton swab in a pile with all the others, then picked up the needle, carefully threading it.

  “There are only two things you care for in this world, and he’s one of them.” His voice was rough, like he
hadn’t spoken for a long while, the tone a caress down her spine. “I had to try.”

  Morgan’s head snapped up and met his startlingly familiar blue eyes. Disconcerted to find him staring at her, she looked down at the needle and thread. “Don’t move. This is going to hurt.”

  He didn’t make a sound while she stitched up the wounds along his ribs. Every time she pierced his flesh, her own skin flinched. The longer she touched him, the more her hands tingled. She needed a distraction before she completely lost her shit.

  “If what they say is true, you’re both powerful and rare. Why waste your time on me?”

  “Not so rare.” She felt his eyes on her face, studying her as if she was the most fascinating creature he’d ever seen. It was both heady and made her want to hide. She had to shake her head to clear her thoughts when he continued speaking. “It’s just that we’ve learned to keep to ourselves. The others hunt us for our abilities, so we rarely venture out of our villages.”

  He winced when she tugged the needle through a particularly nasty gash on his side, barely pausing in his story. “The bloodlines are purer in some of us than others, making our beast stronger. We crave freedom, so we go for runs and hunt, doing whatever is needed to protect our village.”

  “You were captured.” The fondness in his voice didn’t allow for any other option. He would never have left his friends and family voluntarily.

  He grunted, his voice smoothing out the more he spoke. “I was stupid. I wandered too far away from the village. I heard a woman scream and went to investigate. It turned out she didn’t need rescuing. When I showed up to help her, she slipped a collar around my neck. She was a witch, and had heard rumors of a hellhound in the area, and wanted to cash in on the high black market price on our breed.”

  “No wonder you bit me the first time we met. You must have thought I set the trap.” Biting off the end of the string, she grabbed a jar of salve and coated the wound.

  “Sorry.”

  Morgan glanced up at his husky apology, charmed by the embarrassing blush on his face. “For what?”

  “With the collar, we’re locked in our beast form, which is why we take such care. If we’re a hound too long, we’ll remain stuck in that form forever. The only way free is to kill our master.”