Secret Wolves: Supernatural Shifter Academy Series

by Bailey, G.

  * * *

  It takes us less than half an hour to reach our stop, emerging from the metro station in a wave of excited chatter. I do my best to stick close to the others as we walk, but it’s difficult when there’s so much to take in, and I find myself pausing at practically every street corner to gawk at something or another. The streets are tight and winding, lined with buildings dating back hundreds of years. We pass parks, clock towers, fountains, and flowerbeds, all crammed in next to hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurants and Colonial museums.

  I’m so caught up in the sightseeing that I don’t even notice Amelia flanking me until we come to a stop at an intersection and she sidles up next to me. “Brix.”

  I glance at her before looking frantically for the others; they’ve already crossed the street, and the light has gone red, leaving the rest of us behind. Not looking forward to whatever it is she wants to discuss, I slowly turn to her. “Was there something you wanted to talk about, Amelia?”

  “I… Yes.” Her voice is uncharacteristically soft, and she crosses her arms over her chest, looking at the ground. “Look,” she says, finally making eye contact, “this isn’t easy for me to say, so I’m only going to say it once. I wanted to thank you.”

  I blink. “Thank… me?”

  Amelia nods. “Hunter transformed for me out on the quad this morning. He wasn’t able to hold it for more than a few seconds, but it’s more than he’s ever done before.” She clears her throat. “He said you were the one who showed him how to do it.”

  “Er… right.” I rub the back of my neck sheepishly. “I just felt like maybe he needed a different approach. I gave him a few pointers last night, and he trusts me, which I think helped.” Rushing on, I add, “It wasn’t anything dangerous, though. He seemed pretty down about it, so I thought, if I could help…”

  “I know.” There’s a look on her face that it takes me a moment to identify, before suddenly it hits me—gratitude. And a hint of remorse. She shuffles her feet. “You know, I’ve been trying to show him how to shapeshift ever since we were kids. He could never get it right. I was always the quick learner, and I think maybe some part of him resented me for it… I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I was starting to wonder if he’d ever get there.”

  “Maybe you just needed to have a little more faith in him,” I suggest gently.

  “Maybe.” She looks at me thoughtfully. “And maybe he’s not the only one.” Biting her lip, Amelia looks as if she wants to say something else, but then the light turns green, and we begin to cross the street. “I’ll see you around, Millie,” she says at last, before moving away and disappearing into the crowd.

  “What was that about?” Landon asks as I rejoin the group. “Amelia giving you more problems?”

  “Actually… no,” I reply. “I think maybe she was trying to apologise. In her own way.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Landon says, shaking his head. “An apology from Amelia Fucking Ash. What else does this trip have in store?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” I say, nodding towards the end of the street where the Boston Convention and Exhibit Center towers in front of us, “but I think we’re about to find out.”

  Chapter 37

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it, not even the time Mollie took me to a concert in London for my thirteenth birthday. It seems like practically the whole city of Boston is crammed into this one multi-block area, and what’s even more spectacular is the fact that, if the administration is to be believed, everyone here is connected somehow to the shifter community.

  The Boston Convention and Exhibit Center is a modern building a lot like the Academy, with a massive overhanging roof supported by hundreds of crisscrossing beams. All around us, people are moving about, jostling and murmuring to one another while they press forward in a rush to get into the building. You’d think it was Comic Con and not an international peace conference, but then again, I would be lying if I said it wasn’t exciting to be here. It’s astonishing to me that they’ve managed to put this all together in such a short amount of time - the only explanation is that the diplomats in charge of the conference have ties to some very important people, and why wouldn’t they? They would have to, in order to keep an entire species’ existence under wraps for this many centuries.

  I can make out the figure of Josie at the front of the group, but once the rest of the students are all assembled, she quickly moves aside to make room for Russo and Hawthorne, the latter of whom straightens up and projects his voice so that everyone can hear him when he speaks. “The official talks will be happening on an ongoing basis, every day until the end of the convention. I would like to remind you all to be on your best behaviour - you’re not only here as representatives of the Academy, but as representatives of the shifter community as a whole. This could very well end up being a critical moment in the history of shifter-human relations, and I would strongly encourage you all to remember that.”

  He takes a step back to allow Russo to move forward and speak, her hands behind her back as she clears her throat. “In addition to the main diplomatic talks, there will also be several other sessions led by important figures in both our communities, all with the goal of strategizing and encouraging integration. I would also personally recommend listening to some of the lectures on keeping a low profile while living in densely populated human communities, such as Boston. Again, though, it will be up to you all how you decide to spend your day. The Academy faculty fellows will be around the convention center until the day is over, and you will be free to spend your time here as you see fit. Remember, though,” she adds, a knowing gleam in her eye, “this is an academic trip. Don’t take this as permission to run wild around the city. Our resident witches will be keeping an eye out for your magical signatures, so it’s in your best interest not to stray too far from the convention center. Other than that, though…” She spreads her arms out. “Enjoy yourselves, and I hope this experience is an educational one for all of you.”

  Silas and I exchange a look. He shrugs his broad shoulders, and I nod. Seemingly finished with their speeches, the two school presidents turn around and retreat into the building, leaving the rest of us to trickle in on our own. The guys and I linger behind for a moment, waiting for the crowd to clear up, and Landon turns to us as the students disperse. “So,” he asks, “where to first?”

  “Anywhere that’s not here,” Shade replies haughtily. “As if listening to a bunch of brown-nosing politicians is anyone’s idea of a good time.”

  “You heard Russo,” Hazel shoots back at him. “They’re going to be tracking us. We have to at least put in some effort.”

  “Just think of it this way,” I say, “it’s better than class, right?”

  “It would be,” Shade agrees, “if it weren’t a Saturday.”

  I purse my lips. “Good point.”

  “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you,” Silas says, “but I actually want to see these so-called peace talks. This affects all of us, whether we like it or not, and if a bunch of bureaucrats are going to be deciding our futures, I’d like to hear what they have to say.”

  “Same here,” Hunter puts in. “Most of the board members are going to be there, and I ought to go there to support my dad - at least, for a little while.”

  “Screw that,” Landon replies. “I want to learn about blending into human society.”

  “I wouldn’t mind just poking around for a bit,” Hazel adds. “You know, to see what looks interesting.”

  “Maybe we should split up, then,” I suggest. “We can all meet up around lunchtime and go get something to eat together. Until then, we can go do our own thing.”

  “That works for me,” Shade replies. The others murmur their agreement.

  “I guess we’ll see you guys later, then?” asks Xander, turning to us.

  “Sounds like a plan,” I reply.

  The group disperses into the building, Hazel, Xander, and Ruby heading in one direction and
Landon and Shade heading in another. I’m left standing between Hunter and Silas. “Well,” the dragon shifter says, turning to me, “do you want to come with us, Boots?”

  “Yes,” I reply. It’s not even a question; Silas is right. This could end up being a landmark event, and like it or not, we’re smack in the middle of it. This could also be a chance to learn more about the experiments the humans conducted on us, and one look at Silas tells me he’s thinking the same thing. Now is the time to be strategic, especially if it means getting some insight into the humans’ plans for us.

  Wordlessly, the three of us file into the building, taking in the soaring ceiling and massive banks of glass windows on all sides. Everywhere I look, I see booths with conflicting messages and themes - some are clearly geared towards shifters, while some seem to be more human-focused. Opportunists using this as a chance to sell their services to the magical community have staked out at a lot of the tables, and the walls are littered with signs declaring messages of coexistence and unity. It all feels a bit disingenuous.

  I follow the two guys down the length of the hall, weaving my way between other attendees as I do my best to keep up with them. At one point, I almost run smack into a security guard who’s no doubt here to make sure unsuspecting humans don’t wander in, thinking it’s some kind of public access event. I’m struck by the fact that there’s no easy way to tell which of the attendees are humans and which are shifters; if you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was no way to distinguish them at all. I spent most of my life thinking that, and yet here I am. Talk about getting thrown into the deep end.

  There are signs directing us up a steep set of stairs and towards the main auditorium where the peace talks are being held. There’s already a crowd forming outside, although the number of students waiting to get in is surprisingly small; the others are likely more interested in the glamorous aspects of the conference than the messy political stuff, which only makes me feel even more out of place. Silas comes to a halt on one side of me, with Hunter on the other, and as we stand there, pressed body to body while we wait to be let inside, I feel more aware of their presences than ever before. On one side, Silas: big, thoughtful, and determined to find out the truth, even if it means walking into danger himself. On the other, Hunter: lanky and brooding, with an inferiority complex that he’s been nursing all his life that belies a more fun-loving side underneath. Both incredibly handsome, both so different… and yet both more similar than one would realise. And I’m what links them together, in more ways than one. It’s… a heavy notion, and it makes me feel something I can’t quite put my finger on. Once again, my mind drifts back to the kiss I shared with Hunter, only for me to be struck with overwhelming guilt at having done it behind Silas’ back; part of me wants to blurt it out right then and there, just to be rid of the tension, but I’m paralysed with indecision.

  Finally, they let us inside the auditorium where a banner reading, “Human-Shifter Peace Summit” hangs over the stage. A roundtable sits in the middle, with well-dressed men and women on all sides, and I can see the Academy executives already sitting in prime spots in the front few rows. It’s silent inside, and the talk seems to have already started; a moderator is in the midst of asking whether the shifters’ policy of secrecy is sustainable in today’s culture.

  The three of us are relegated to one of the back rows, and I slide in between Hunter and Silas, my eyes wide as I watch the politicians below us. “That’s hardly the point, and you know it,” says one of the speakers, a dark-skinned woman in an impeccably tailored suit. “The discussion isn’t about secrecy—it never was—and I think questions about shifter culture is a diversion from the real issue, here.”

  “With all due respect, Ma’am,” replies one of the older men flanking her, “the issues are linked. We have to face the fact that keeping the existence of shifters a secret from humans is becoming less realistic by the day. It’s only giving these fringe groups more ammunition against us.”

  “And why should that be our responsibility?” pipes up another speaker. “We should be addressing how this information keeps getting out, instead of throwing the baby out with the bathwater.”

  I lean in to Hunter as the moderator struggles to keep a hold on the increasingly tense debate. “Do you know who any of these people are?” I whisper.

  Hunter’s brow furrows. “I recognise a few of them from my father’s meetings. The ones on the left look like some of the shifter representatives. I’m guessing the others are the human ambassadors.”

  “They’re the ones with the leverage here,” Silas states flatly. It’s not a question. I can see his hands gripping his armrests tightly, and part of me wants to reach out and smooth the tension out of them, but I can’t bring myself to, not with Hunter on my other side.

  “You’re arguing in favour of secrecy,” the moderator says to the first woman. “Do you have any thoughts on protected communities, then?”

  “If by ‘protected’, you mean ‘segregated,’ then yes, I have quite a few,” the woman replies shortly. “This isn’t an either-or situation. Humans and shifters have lived together for hundreds of years - there’s no reason to change that. It would just be caving to the humans who want us out of the way.”

  “Who said anything about us wanting shifters out of the way?” replies a man on the other side of the table. “Everyone has to realise that we’re talking about a small fraction of humans who know about shifters, and an even smaller fraction of those who want to subjugate them.”

  The debate rages on, replies firing back and forth so quickly that I can hardly keep up. Hunter watches them intently, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes occasionally moving down to where his father is, while Silas frowns, lost in thought as he listens. I’m left wondering how on earth anything is going to be resolved in the short time that this conference is set to go on… until my cell phone vibrates in my pocket.

  Frowning, I dig it out and glance at the screen. It’s a text message from an unknown number.

  Watch your back. It isn’t safe for you here.

  Chapter 38

  My body is tense as we emerge from the assembly room an hour later, my shoulders hunched and my fingers nervously carding through my hair as I stare down at my phone. I know I should have been paying more attention during the peace talks, but as soon as I got that text, it was more or less over for my focus. Could it have been a wrong number? Sure, but I doubt it; even after replying with multiple messages asking who the sender was, I received no response, and my mind has been a mess trying to figure out who it might be. It sure as hell doesn’t feel like a coincidence, especially now that the whole Academy has up and left the island to surround ourselves with humans for the next week in an unfamiliar city. The idea that the warning might actually be a threat has crossed my mind, although from whom? Hawthorne? That would be bold, even from him, especially considering that the number could be traced, in theory. Another student? That hardly seems more likely; if it were someone I knew, why wouldn’t they tell me to my face? I’m left spinning out with more questions than answers, and I think Silas and Hunter can tell that something is wrong. They keep shooting me glances out of the corners of their eyes as we head back down the stairs and make our way towards the entrance.

  “Are you all right?” Silas asks, putting a hand on my shoulder as soon as we get outside and into the blessed fresh air. “You look a little shaken up.”

  “It’s just… everything they were talking about,” I reply, lying through my teeth. “It’s unnerving, listening to them discussing our futures like we’re just pawns in some game.”

  “Is that not what we are to them?” The dragon shifter asks, crossing his arms. “To the humans, at least?”

  “Maybe you should have more faith in them,” Hunter speaks up, putting his hands in his pockets. “It’s only the first day of the conference. They’ve got more time to figure out a solution.”

  “For all the good that will do,” Silas says, shaking his he
ad. “I’ll be curious just how much of a say they give the shifters, at the end of the day.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask him, brow furrowing.

  “Do you really think the humans care about resolving this peacefully?” he asks. “I’ve seen how they operate. They made my parents disappear because they were talking about changing the status quo. I don’t expect this to be any different—the only question is how many people they’ll end up throwing under the bus just to make this all go away.”

  Hunter looks like he’s about to reply, but we’re interrupted by the sounds of familiar voices approaching us from the left. I look up to see Hazel and the twins walking over to us. She’s laughing at something Xander said, and judging by the way they’re looking at one another, I’d say that their first foray into exploring the conference was a success - more of a success than mine, at any rate.

  “Hey,” Ruby says as they come to a stop next to us.

  “Hey,” I echo. “Where did you guys end up going?”

  “This breakout session about integrating with human society,” Xander replies, “although it was all bullshit. Just a bunch of pro-human propaganda.”

  Silas shakes his head. “I’m not surprised.”

  “How are the talks going?” Ruby asks.

  “About as well as you’d expect,” Hunter admits. “They’re deadlocked. Nobody can agree on anything.”

  “Figures,” Hazel says, frowning. “I’m just surprised they’ve even been able to keep a lid on things as long as they have. I’m starting to see now why there’s so much tension between the two groups.”

  “Which is exactly why this whole thing is pointless,” comes a new voice, and I turn around to see Shade coming to a stop on our other side, Landon following him. “I’m telling you, we’d be better off just fucking around for the next few days.”