Werewolf Academy Book 7

by Cheree Alsop

  Alex stared at him. Jaze had truly been his father figure for most of his life. To hear the dean say as much in his own way gripped Alex’s heart in a tight fist.

  “We’re not going to lose this place,” Alex said with determination. “It’s worth fighting for.”

  Jaze watched him, his gaze distant as though he saw something other than Alex standing in his place.

  “Don’t stop fighting,” Jaze said quietly.

  Alex nodded at Jet’s words. “Never stop fighting.”

  Jaze let out a slow breath and nodded. “Alright, then what do we do. Should I remove you from being his assistant?”

  “And give someone else the torture?” Alex replied with a half-smile. “As much as I’d like to give the honor to Torin or Boris, I think they would have killed Mr. O’Hare by now. I’ve already conquered one bear. How much harder can it be?” He gave a smile he hoped didn’t look as forced as it felt. When dealing with Mr. O’Hare, he knew better than to hope it would get easier.

  “Alright,” Jaze gave in. “I’ll talk to the school board and figure out what the appropriate punishment should be. In my opinion, maybe you should have let the grizzly eat him.”

  Alex chuckled. “Good thing you’re not his assistant.”

  Jaze nodded. “I agree with that completely.”

  Alex rose and made his way to the door.

  “Hey, Alex,” Jaze said.

  When Alex turned back, the dean’s smile had faded, replaced by a look of respect. “I’m proud of the way you’ve handled this.”

  His words took some of the weight from Alex’s shoulders. The younger werewolf nodded. “Thank you.”

  He walked back up the hall with the knowledge that not only had he lost his position as starting quarterback, he had solidified his position as assistant to the most unforgiving, cruel, and spiteful man he had ever met. Yet Alex couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Through it all, Jaze was proud of him. He would do anything to stay worthy of the look of respect in the dean’s eyes. As long as Jaze thought he deserved even a tenth of the dean’s high opinion of him, Alex could survive anything. He hoped.

  Chapter Seven

  “Time to go.”

  Alex opened his eyes. He had almost forgotten that Trent had kept true to his word and slept in his quarters. Alex had pulled the couch beneath the window where he could get the strongest moonlight for his healing back and had almost fallen asleep when the door had opened. Trent entered, tossed his pillow on the ground in front of the unlit fireplace, wrapped himself in the blanket he had brought, and fallen asleep without a word. Alex had decided not to question his friend. He was tired enough for the both of them.

  Now, the croak of Trent’s tired voice brought him to full alert.

  “Jaze?” Alex asked.

  Trent peered at the small screen of the watch he wore. “Yeah, he’s calling the team. I’ll go get the others and meet you down there.”

  “It’d be easier if you were already in their quarters,” Alex said meaningfully.

  Trent nodded. “It would, but I’d rather stay in our quarters,” he answered, stressing the word. He pushed open the panel on the wall and stepped inside without waiting for Alex to respond.

  Alex made his way down the dark tunnels and pushed open the door to the Wolf Den. The screens were lit and Brock sat on his throne in the center surveying the information that came across. The human’s throne was a swivel chair with various Kick-Me signs stuck to the back and surrounded by wrappers from many different types of snacks. Jaze’s best friend held a candy bar in one hand and a corndog in the other. Alex knew it was time to start worrying. Brock was usually a one-food-at-a-time person unless the situation was particularly intense.

  Alex walked up the stairs. “That bad, huh?” he asked quietly.

  Brock nodded without looking at him. The human’s gaze was glued to a screen with words running across it.

  “I got it,” he said into his earpiece. “They’re on their way.”

  He looked at Alex. “You might want to go armed to this one.”

  Caden, Brock’s cousin, stood behind a long table already covered in a vast array of weaponry.

  “Want the usual?” he asked.

  At Alex’s nod, the human handed him the Glock the werewolf carried on their risky missions. He double-checked the slide and magazine before buckling on the shoulder holster Caden held out.

  “Food in both hands?” Alex heard Cassie say to Siale. “We’re in trouble.”

  “Gear up accordingly,” Dean Jaze said, entering closely behind them.

  Jericho, Terith, and Tennison followed. The werewolves went straight to the table.

  “Good to see you’re still at the Academy,” Jericho said with a nod at Alex. “We missed you at dinner.”

  Alex stifled a grimace. “I was busy cleaning the bathrooms.”

  “Seriously?” the Alpha asked. “I thought you’d had enough of toilet duty after your stint with Pack Torin.”

  The thought of his time as Torin’s Second sent a shudder down Alex’s spine. He had thought he was done with cleaning toilets after that term. Unfortunately, Jaze’s board members didn’t feel the same way. He knew the smirk he had seen on Mr. O’Hare’s face when the man ‘accidentally’ walked in on him scrubbing the tiles would linger in his mind for days. He wondered if he had unintentionally become the human’s pawn, and the thought rankled his pride more than he liked to admit.

  “What can I say?” Alex asked lightly. “Don’t leave the school grounds during school hours. If there isn’t a class being held in the forest, it’s outside the boundaries.”

  He felt everyone’s stares. Alex didn’t want to explain further. He shoved his Glock into his holster and focused on Jaze. “What’s the situation?”

  The dean’s gaze said he understood exactly how Alex felt. He saved Alex from further scrutiny by answering, “We’ve found Drogan’s trail.”

  Alex’s heartbeat sped up at the proclamation. After they had defeated the mutants Drogan created in his attempt to make a Demon like the one Alex could turn into, Drogan had vanished. Though the summer went by much more peacefully, the thought of Alex’s half-brother lingered in his mind. Drogan had vowed to kill Alex for leaving him in Dr. Kamala’s clutches. Despite Alex’s pleading on national television for Drogan to leave the werewolves in peace, he knew his brother wouldn’t give up. The Extremist’s silence had only increased his certainty.

  Alex was already heading for the helicopter.

  “Fill us in on the way,” he called over his shoulder. “Let’s move!”

  Everyone hurried to join him. Jaze climbed into the back of the helicopter and let Trent sit next to Mouse at the pilot’s seat.

  “I could use the practice,” Trent urged.

  “Not on a mission,” Mouse replied. “We’ll see about the trip home if everything goes well.”

  The small professor guided the helicopter up through the floor and past the greenhouses designed to slide to each side of the hidden cavern passageway. They rose above the dark Academy and turned to the horizon.

  “Drogan’s not there,” Jaze said in answer to Alex’s questioning gaze. “But we know he was there less than a week ago. He set up shop in an old water treatment facility and turned it into his own private laboratory.”

  “A lab for what?” Cassie asked.

  “For his own twisted experiments,” Jaze replied, his tone showing his distaste. “He’s trying to make something, but we don’t know what, yet.”

  Alex was grateful Siale had been assigned a permanent position with Brock. After all she had gone through as a victim in one of Drogan’s labs, he was glad she would be spared finding another of his half-brother’s lairs. Mercy wasn’t one of Drogan’s virtues. He had promised to shield his fiancé from such things; he hoped Brock would use discretion if what they found proved too difficult for her to see.

  “The Black Team’s arrived,” Mouse called over their headsets. “They say it’s dar
k. Do you want them to move in?”

  “How far away are we?” Jaze asked. The white of his knuckles from where he gripped the side of Mouse’s chair was the only sign of his anxiety.

  Alex realized his own fists were clenched and forced them to relax. He wasn’t going to find another body pit. Memories of mutilated bodies and a single hand reaching toward the sound of his voice swarmed him. He had held Siale close against his body, willing her heart to keep beating despite the potentially fatal wounds that lined her body. He couldn’t think of the corpses beneath them, nor the fact that after the explosion, their only hope of escape had been cut off. He concentrated on the sound of Siale’s heartbeat and attempted to keep her from slipping away by telling her about his life.

  “Alex, you ready?”

  Alex realized they were no longer moving. The helicopter had landed in an empty parking lot with unlit streetlights. The buildings around them were dark at the late hour. Alex looked up to see everyone watching him. Jericho and Terith were already outside. Cassie and Tennison exchanged a worried look from the other side of the helicopter.

  “Ready for this?” Trent repeated. He tried to hide the worry he felt, but it rounded his tone.

  Alex pushed up to his feet. “I’m ready,” he said.

  Trent ducked outside with a hand on Alex’s arm. Mouse and Jaze were busy conferring with Darian, the head of the Black Team. Alex was grateful Jaze hadn’t seen his lapse in attention.

  Mouse jogged back over to them. “Darian will take the Black Team through the back. He’s already got snipers on the roof. Heat signatures show a dozen guards, but there’s no sign of Drogan. We’re going in on three.”

  “You got this?” Trent asked quietly when the others fell into their usual pairs.

  Cassie and Tennison ghosted around the front of the building. Terith and Jericho followed close behind.

  “I’ve got this,” Alex replied. He jogged after his sister, careful to keep to the shadows in case there was anyone watching from the buildings around them. The fact that Mouse had landed them in the middle of the building’s parking lot said that they weren’t as concerned about the element of surprise as they were about rescuing whoever might be inside.

  In one of Professor Chet’s rants during combat training, the werewolf had explained how letting an enemy know an attacker was coming could put them into their standard defensive procedures; while the element of surprise was valuable, knowing how defenders reacted to an attack told valuable information about whoever was in charge.

  “Are we concerned about hostages?” Darian asked over their earpieces.

  “From what Mouse’s surveillance has shown, all warm bodies appear to be performing tasks. Be alert for armed guards.” Jaze paused, then said, “Mouse, the lights.”

  “Got it,” the small professor replied.

  A moment later, the lights went out in the building. Alex could hear the commotion inside. His muscles tensed and his senses strained, following the movements of the people they were about to confront.

  “Slow and steady,” Jaze said quietly over their earpieces. “Ready, go.”

  Jericho kicked the door open, then spun to the right in case anyone charged out.

  “Clear,” Alex said after a moment. He ducked inside.

  His wolven eyesight made out the empty first floor. By the sound of things, the men and women in the building were on the second and third floors. Alex led the way to the stairs.

  “Cassie, Tennison, sweep this floor in case we missed anyone,” Alex ordered.

  “Got it,” Tennison replied. His sister nodded, her gaze searching the darkness.

  “Be careful,” she said.

  “Will do,” Alex promised. He walked silently up the steps. Trent followed close behind, their footsteps soundless the way Professor Colleen and Professor Rafe had trained them to walk during their outdoor classes in the forest.

  “We’re taking the back stairs,” Jaze said into their earpieces. “Wait for my command.”

  “Four bodies on the second floor,” Brock told them from the surveillance equipment. “They’ve been walking set routes. Prepare for armed guards.”

  Alex slipped his gun from the holster. They avoided using firearms whenever possible, but if Jaze felt it was necessary, things could get out of hand.

  Jericho reached for the handle to the door at the top of the stairs. Alex waited on pins and needles.

  “Go,” Jaze said.

  Alex nodded and Jericho opened the door. Alex dove through. Two guards spun and shot from the end of the hallway. Bullets tore into the wall next to Alex’s head. Alex shot the one on the right and Trent took the left. Both guards fell with small paralyzing darts sticking from their necks.

  “Machine guns?” Terith noted quietly. “That’s a bit much.”

  Her brother gestured to the liquid silver that dripped from one of the bullet holes marring the beige wall. “They’re armed for werewolf.”

  “Is that silver?” Brock asked over their earpieces. “Terith, get a closer look.”

  She complied, angling her head so the camera attached to her earpiece could capture the view.

  “Get a sample,” Mouse said. “I’d like to know what concentration they’re using.”

  Terith dipped a swab in the liquid and put it in a bag in her pouch.

  “They definitely knew we were coming,” Jericho said quietly.

  “Be careful,” Alex told them. “Jaze?”

  “Clear,” the werewolf said. “Let’s move on. Brock?”

  “The other six are on the next floor,” the human told them.

  “There are some strange readings at the end of your floor, though,” Siale said. “Someone should check it out.”

  “Will do,” Alex replied. “Jericho, Terith, cover us.”

  He and Trent made their way down the wall to where the guards had fallen. Alex kicked the machine gun free from the closest guard’s hand even though the dose from the dart would keep him out for hours. It paid to be careful. He fought back a smile at the thought. Siale would be proud of him.

  “What is that smell?” Trent asked quietly.

  The door they stood in front of was made of thick metal and sealed all the way around. Alex stepped closer and took a sniff of the scent that shouldn’t have been able to make its way through, yet a faint smell touched the air. Alex’s stomach twisted.

  “This isn’t going to be good,” he said, his voice tight.

  “What did you find?” Siale asked.

  Alex touched the doorknob. Trent set a hand on his arm. “Maybe we should let someone else go first.”

  Alex shook his head. “Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Eight

  Alex tried the doorknob, but it was locked. He used his werewolf strength to force it to turn completely. A metallic pop sounded and the door swung inward.

  The smells rushed out, surrounding them in death and decay. Alex fought back the urge to stumble outside and never look back. Instead, he forced one foot in front of the other. Memories attempted to swarm him, but he pushed them down. Alex blinked in the dim lighting. His eyes focused and the knot in his stomach turned into a burning pain of dismay.

  Bodies strapped upright to tables lined the walls. I.V.s with empty bags protruded from withered limbs. The bodies looked mummified as if they had been drained completely of blood.

  “What is this?” Trent asked.

  “Alex, what did you find?” Siale demanded. Concern for her fiancé filled her voice.

  “Uh, I’m not sure yet,” Alex answered honestly, his voice rough.

  He steeled his nerves and made his way to the first body. Alex avoided looking at the hollow-cheeked face. Plugs had been removed from the human’s arms and legs where the major arteries ran. He could smell Drogan’s scent in the room. His half-brother had definitely drained their blood, but Alex couldn’t fathom why.

  Alex’s hands started to shake. He reached for a chart on a nearby table, but hit the side of it, sending both the
chart and a tray of operating tools crashing to the floor.

  Trent was immediately at his side.

  “Steady,” his friend said quietly.

  “Are you guys okay?” Terith asked. “Oh my goodness!”

  Alex rushed to the doorway the same second that Siale’s gasp of dismay sounded through his earpiece. He covered the camera at the side of Terith’s head and turned her back to the hallway.

  “Wait outside,” he demanded, his voice words gruffer than he meant them to be.

  “O-okay,” Terith replied quickly. Jericho took her arm and steered her down the hall.

  “We’ve reached the third floor,” Jaze said over their earpieces. “Hold up. We’ll take care of things and call you if we need you.”

  “Ten-four,” Alex replied.

  Spots showed in his vision. He barely heard Trent retreat from the room. Alex pulled the door shut and leaned against the heavy metal. His legs gave out and he slid to a sitting position.

  “Guards are down,” Jaze said.

  Alex barely heard him. He buried his face in his hands. “Siale,” he said, his words quiet. “Siale, are you okay?”

  It was a moment before she answered, “I-I don’t know. Are you?”

  Alex shook his head, but couldn’t make himself respond. A hand touched his shoulder. Alex jumped at the contact. The world around him spun. He felt as though he was back in the room and one of the corpses was after him. He knocked the hand away and drew his gun within the space of a heartbeat.

  His eyes focused and he found himself staring down the Glock’s barrel at Trent.

  His best friend’s hands were raised and eyes wide. “Alex, it’s okay. Lower your gun. It’s just me!”

  Alex’s vision warred between memories, nightmares, and reality. The scent of the room clung to his clothes and his nose, refusing to leave him in peace. He kept seeing withered hands reaching for him. He told himself it had been Trent’s hand on his shoulder, but he wasn’t sure if he believed his own words.