by Cheree Alsop
Alex nodded. “Thank you, Jaze.”
The dean stepped out of the door and shut it behind him.
Alex was immediately flooded with questions.
“Did the bullet hurt?” Trent asked.
“Was there a lot of blood?” Marky pressed.
Von had a finger in his nose when he asked, “Did you have to get stitches?”
Pip hung near the back of the room. He gave Alex a weak smile when the Second looked at him. “It hurt,” Alex said, “But it’s healing.”
He took a step toward the couch, but his leg chose that moment to buckle.
“Easy,” Jericho said, catching him before he could hit the ground. He practically carried Alex to the couch and helped him get settled.
“I’m fine,” Alex protested quietly, his cheeks red.
Jericho met his gaze. “You’re not fine, and until you are, you need to take it easy. You heard what the dean said. That bullet was silver. We all know the effects a silver bullet can have on a werewolf.” The shadows in the Alpha’s brown eyes let Alex know he understood the effects all too well. “Take it easy,” Jericho insisted.
Alex nodded. The room fell quiet, all eyes trained on him. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “Uh, everyone should get some rest. I won’t go anywhere.”
“Promise?” Cassie asked. Her face was pale and drawn. It was obvious the night’s terrors had taken a lot out of her.
Alex gave her a reassuring smile. “I promise. Go get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
The other members of the pack obeyed. They were too exhausted to protest, and knew being late to combat training in the morning would come with a price, especially since they had been given an extra hour of sleep. It was well past midnight. Every hour of rest was going to count.
Cassie ran to her room and came back carrying the warm red blanket Nikki had given her their first night at the Academy. It was her favorite possession. She set it carefully over her brother.
Her dark blue eyes searched his. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“I’m good,” Alex told her, feigning a yawn. “With this blanket, I’ll be asleep in no time.”
She gave him a wide smile. It surprised Alex when she leaned down and kissed his forehead. His heart gave a painful throb. Their mother used to do that every time she tucked them into bed; no one had kissed his forehead for the last six years.
“Good night, Alex,” Cassie whispered.
“Night, Cass,” he replied.
She paused in the doorway one more time to reassure herself that he was safe. He listened to her tired footsteps as she made her way to her room. The door shut behind her with a quiet snick.
Alex let out a slow breath and looked around. The meeting room was warm and inviting. Pictures of mountain scenes were spread along the walls between the windows, and the lamps in each corner glowed softly on their lowest settings. It should have been cozy, and Alex knew he should have been exhausted.
Yet the memories of the attackers kept racing through his head every time he closed his eyes. He wanted to fight them, to protect Cassie, to keep the man in the middle from pulling the trigger. There were too many guns. He couldn’t save anyone. Rest evaded him.
Eventually, Alex stood. The pain in his leg chased the other thoughts from his mind. He wanted to hit something, anything, yet there was nothing he could punch without damaging it.
Thoughts of the combat training room below toyed in the back of his mind. The rage in his veins cycled over and over until he felt like he would go crazy if he couldn’t let some of it out.
He glanced down the hallway where Cassie slept. The sound of soft breathing and one person muttering in her sleep came to him. Alex limped toward door to their quarters. With each painful step, he reminded himself of the men who had threatened his sister. They would pay someday. He would make sure of it.
The anger fueled him as he limped down the stairs by leaning on the railing and easing his injured leg down one step at a time. When he reached the bottom, he felt like he had accomplished something.
After what felt like an hour later, Alex stood triumphantly in front of the combat training room. He pulled the door open and limped to the dummies in the corner. The image of the man with the gun floated in his mind, then shifted to the face of the man with the mismatched eyes. The man had watched while Alex and Cassie’s mom and dad died, paralyzed by silver darts and then slain by his knife across their throats. He had then turned with a cold look on his face. Only the sound at the door had prevented him from killing the brother and sister at that moment.
Alex hit the dummy so hard it slammed backwards to the floor. He took a step forward to finish it, but his wounded leg gave out under the weight and he fell on top of the dummy.
“This is awkward,” he muttered. He rolled and came up on his good knee, drove an elbow into the dummy’s sternum, punched its stomach, and followed with a chop to the throat. He collapsed on his back fighting for breath.
“Really terrifying,” a voice said from the other side of the room.
Adrenaline rushed through Alex’s veins. He jumped up to a defensive crouch, his hands up and senses straining.
“Slow down, Rocky. I’m not going to attack you,” Kalia said with a hint of apology in her voice. She stepped out of the shadows with her hands raised. “I figured you knew I was here, what with a werewolf’s nose and all that.”
Alex glanced at the fallen dummy. “That is not how I would have killed a dummy with someone watching.”
“I hope not,” she replied.
Alex willed his muscles to relax. His leg screamed at him for the movements, and as the adrenaline began to fade, he really regretted it.
“Uh, aren’t you supposed to be in the medical ward or something?” Kalia asked, giving his leg a meaningful look.
Alex sat on the dummy and gingerly stretched out his leg. “For a bullet wound? They save the medical ward for more important things than that.”
An unwilling smile crept across her face. “More important?”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “Like decapitations and stuff.”
“Oh,” Kalia answered. “Right. Because there’s a lot they can do about a decapitation.”
Alex shrugged. “You never know.”
“I hope I don’t,” Kalia replied.
Alex gave her a searching look. “I’m honing my skills as a lame warrior. Why are you here?”
“You are a lame warrior,” Kalia said, crossing her arms even though another smile touched her face.
Alex rolled his eyes. “That was a setup and you didn’t answer my question.”
“I, uh, well. . . I couldn’t sleep.” Kalia’s icy blue eyes studied the ground.
“Are you generally an insomniac?” Alex asked curiously.
She shook her head. She swallowed, then admitted, “I have a fear of guns.”
A chill ran through Alex’s body. He nodded, his voice quiet when he said, “That’s understandable.” Silence filled the space between them for a few minutes. Alex broke it by asking, “So why the training room?”
Kalia gave the dummy Alex was sitting on a pointed look. “I guess it’s not the safest place. I just supposed that if I could, you know, defend myself, I might not be so afraid.” Her last few words trailed off until they were barely audible.
For the first time, Alex saw past her stony countenance, icy blue gaze, and the tension he felt when she was around. Instead, he saw a girl his age who had been uprooted against her will and thrown into an Academy filled with a race of people she feared.
“You don’t have the strength of a werewolf,” he said quietly.
She shook her head and her white-blonde hair swished above her shoulders.
“You don’t have to fear us,” Alex said, willing her to believe it.
“I know,” she replied with hesitancy in her voice. “It’s just. . . I don’t. . . .” She sighed and began again, “I don’t fit in at home and I don’t fit in here. What
happens when they send me away?”
“They don’t have to send you away,” Alex told her.
“With you and Cassie being attacked, they’re going to tighten down on security and my parents used to be Extremists.” She covered her mouth and stared at him, amazed at what she had admitted.
“It’s okay,” Alex reassured her. “You don’t have to worry so much. Lots of people used to be Extremists. I can’t blame them for being afraid, and neither does Jaze. We just have to find a way to exist side by side in peace.”
Kalia searched his eyes as if looking for something. “How can you say that when you and your sister almost got shot?” She motioned to his leg. “When you did get shot? How can you be so cavalier?”
Alex’s mouth pulled up in a smile. “Cavalier?”
She rolled her eyes. “My mom’s big into vocabulary. She says, ‘You must talk like a lady to attract a true gentleman.’”
Alex snorted. “Seriously? What if you don’t find a gentleman that can understand your vocabulary.”
She laughed. “That’s exactly what I told her!”
“And what’d she say?”
“To stop being so cavalier,” Kalia replied.
Alex laughed. His leg began to ache. He moved off the dummy and eased his leg out straight.
“You really should be in the medical ward, shouldn’t you?” Kalia asked with concern in her voice.
Alex shook his head. “Jaze cleared me. I’ll heal good enough once my body gets rid of the silver.”
“Jaze?” Kalia repeated.
Alex glanced at her. What she was asking suddenly occurred to him. “Oh, uh, Dean Jaze. Hard habit to break. We’re kind-of like family.”
Interest showed in Kalia’s gaze. “How’d you become family with the dean?”
Alex wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell her. He settled onto his back on the mat and studied the white panel ceiling. “My parents were killed by Extremists when I was eight. We were brought to the Academy as orphans. Jaze and Nikki took care of us and the rest of the Strays,” he said the word with a hint of bitterness that he tried to hide. “But they cared about Cassie and me because Jaze and my brother were really close.”
Kalia’s voice was quiet when she asked, “What happened to your brother?”
Alex was silent for a few minutes. His voice was almost steady when he said, “My brother was Jet.”
Surprise filled Kalia’s words. “You mean the statue of the werewolf who fought hundreds to save the werewolf race? I’m not a werewolf, and even I’ve heard of him.”
Alex nodded without looking at her. The image of the black statue in front of the school filled his mind. Sadness brushed his thoughts. “Yes, that Jet.” He had become a legend through the werewolves he had saved, a martyr to their cause, one of those who had sacrificed everything to save others. Yet to Alex, he was the big brother the young werewolf had never had enough time with. Sometimes Alex wished Jet wasn’t a legend, because then Jet would still be alive.
“Your brother was brave,” Kalia said softly.
Alex nodded, but didn’t say the words that burned in his heart. He didn’t tell her that stories couldn’t hold someone when they hurt, and legends never soothed a broken heart. They couldn’t teach you how to ride a bike or track in the woods; they couldn’t take you to your first ballgame, or show you how to throw a football. Legends felt insubstantial when the brother left behind no longer had the one he used to look up to.
Alex pushed up from the floor. Kalia reached out a hand to help, but Alex let out a slow breath and willed his legs to hold. He felt a whisper of pride when they obeyed.
“I’d better go to bed. See you in the morning,” Alex said.
“Goodnight, Alex,” Kalia told him. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Alex wasn’t sure if he would go that far, but he nodded and left the room. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he regretted the rashness of his decision to go down them in the first place. He clenched his hands into fists and worked his way slowly up them. By the time he collapsed on his bed, he had wondered for the thirtieth time if fighting the dummy had been worth it. He definitely felt like more of a dummy than the one he had slammed to the ground in the training room.
Chapter Eleven
“As you know, we’ve already questioned Cassie about what she saw. We just need to go over the details in case we missed anything,” Jaze said, his tone kind.
Cassie sat next to Alex with her gaze on the table. He hated the terror that had filled her gaze when she recounted what had happened two nights ago. Alex looked at the professors and staff members who watched him. Nikki and Lyra gave him warm smiles. Mouse was busy fiddling with a small electronic device. Jaze gave him an encouraging nod, while there was true interest in Vance’s expression. Alex couldn’t forget the way the huge werewolf had carried him to the Academy as if the fate of the world rested on his life. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“I think I told you everything,” he said.
“The tiniest detail could help us,” Chet pressed. “You sure you don’t remember anything else?”
Alex let the memories flood over him, hoping for something that would help them. He finally shook his head, frustrated. “I was too worried about protecting Cassie to pay more attention to the men. I would know their scent if I saw them again, but that’s about it.”
The dean nodded. “Thank you, Alex. If you think of anything else, please let us know.”
“I will,” Alex promised.
He and Cassie rose. Together, they watched the professors walk out of the room. Several heads were bowed as they walked in twos and threes in deep discussion.
“Where do you think they’re going?” Alex whispered to Cassie.
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “Probably their offices.”
“I’m going to follow them,” Alex told her.
“Why would you— Alex!” Cassie said in a loud whisper.
Alex motioned for her to keep quiet as he limped around the table and paused at the door. The staff members were heading to the other end of the hallway away from the classrooms. The students never had a reason to go that way. It was made up of teachers’ offices and a storage closet at the very end.
“See, I told you,” Cassie whispered.
“Wait a sec.” Alex’s eyes widened when Professor Dray pulled open the door to the storage closet, glanced behind the other professors to make sure nobody was watching, and stepped inside. Chet followed, then the other professors. Soon, even Jaze was inside the closet. The door shut with an audible click.
“Did you see that?” Alex asked excitedly.
“All the professors are crammed in the storage closet, so?” Cassie replied.
Alex limped down the hall as quickly as he could manage. He threw open the storage room door. Disappointment flooded him when he saw that it was empty. He turned to show Cassie, but his bad leg faltered at the sudden movement and he fell against the back of the closet. Something popped, and then he was rolling down a flight of stairs. He covered his head as he rolled and hit the bottom with a loud thud.
Dazed, Alex blinked at the surprisingly well-lit room. Monitors, screens, diagrams, and digital readouts lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Red and yellow markers moved across city maps. Several people on rolling chairs watched the screens. They wore headsets and spoke into them. A few glanced down at the intruder before turning back to their work.
Alex’s gaze shifted to the professors who glared down at him with disapproving looks.
“Alex, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Jaze asked.
“Uh, ouch,” Alex replied, too stunned to question what he was seeing.
“Alex,” Cassie called, running down the stairs. “Are you o—”
Cassie’s mouth fell open when she reached the bottom step and turned the corner. “What is this?” she asked.
“It was a secret,” Vance replied.
Lyra slapped his shoulder. “It’s the hea
dquarters of Jaze’s werewolf security and protection database. We monitor werewolf activity all over the world.”
Cassie’s gaze flitted over the screens. Jaze stepped forward to help Alex to his feet. Alex was about to ask a question when Cassie let out a scream and buried her head against him.
“It’s him, Alex. It’s him. Don’t let him find us. Don’t let him know where we are,” she said, her voice shaking.
Alex held her tight and quickly searched the monitors. A knot tightened in his stomach at a face shown on one.
“Are you alright, Cassie?” Nikki asked, hurrying quickly to her side.
“Can you take her out?” Alex asked.
Surprised, Nikki nodded. Alex moved his sister’s tight grip to the dean’s wife and watched them make their way slowly up the stairs. When the door shut, he turned to find everyone’s gaze on him. He motioned toward the monitor.
“That’s the man who killed our parents.”
The professors looked at the screen. Jaze’s brow was furrowed when he asked, “Are you sure?”
Alex nodded, feeling sick. “I would never forget.”
“Who is that?” Lyra asked.
A skinny man with spikey brown hair turned in his chair. He held a bag of potato chips and had paused mid-crunch. Recognition flooded Alex. He was taken back to a small house filled with werewolves and humans who were Jet’s friends. They were there for Alex and Cassie’s seventh birthday. It was the night they phased into wolves for the first time.
The man answered, “Drogan Carso; General Jared Carso’s son. He’s topped the werewolf’s most wanted list just below his father for continuing with the genocide on the General’s orders.”
Jaze nodded. “Thank you, Brock.”
“Anytime,” Brock replied. He grinned and spun back around in his chair as he crunched on another chip.
“Wait,” Alex said, his heart hammering in his ears. “Your uncle’s son is the one who killed my parents, and now he’s coming after us?”