Secret Wolves: Supernatural Shifter Academy Series

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Secret Wolves: Supernatural Shifter Academy Series Page 30

by Bailey, G.


  The sounds of fighting still in our ears, the eight of us make our escape, cresting the hill and disappearing into the night.

  Epilogue

  The underground is surprisingly crowded, even late at night, although maybe that’s a good thing; at least this gives us a way of blending in, even if we are still dressed in our Academy uniforms. Quite a few people shoot us weird glances as we pile onto the train, and I can understand why - we look a mess, all covered in blood, dirt, and sweat… but we’re alive. And we’re still together.

  It’s not until I’ve taken a seat, Hunter on one side of me and Shade on the other, that I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. My arm feels heavy and lethargic as I pull it out, almost afraid to see who’s contacted me this time.

  On the screen is a single text message from an unknown sender.

  Come to London if you want to survive this, or he will make you watch them all die.

  Continuing reading Millie’s story in Demonic Vampires by clicking here.

  Description

  The Academy is chasing us and if we are found, none of us will get out of this alive.

  After escaping the academy and the secrets they found out, Millie and her guys find themselves needing to make new alliances to survive in the human world. But trusting strangers has never been easy for Millie or her guys.

  With a face from Millie's past coming back, tension building between Millie and the guys, everything just became a little more complicated.

  How can Millie protect herself when her heart is torn between more than one of her closest friends?

  18+ Reverse Harem Romance which means the main character will have more than one love interest. This is book three of a five-book series and will be rapidly released.

  Chapter 48

  I’ve spent my life on the run.

  It hasn’t always been a conscious decision; in fact, a lot of the time, it’s been a decision made for me by others. The result of outside circumstances falling on me and moving me around like a pawn in the giant chess game that is life. Hell, it’s been happening since before I was even aware of it. First, my parents, running away from their responsibilities, running away from a future with their child. Handing me over to the people who would end up shaping my life in indescribable ways. Then there was me, moving from living situation to the next with no end in sight, no goal other than surviving another year on a path with no conceivable future. And once that situation became intolerable, I ran from the system itself, stumbling blindly into my fate like a kid running through a dark forest, and I’ll be damned if I wasn’t starting to get used to not running.

  It was just starting to feel like a climax, like all the constant fleeing was finally coming to an end. Yes, I went from being an orphaned human to being a hybrid shifter, part of a secret supernatural community running parallel to the normal world. Yes, the life I knew was turned upside-down, replaced by one of magic, mayhem, and politics far above my ability to understand. And yes, there was a new danger in that, there were new unknowns… but I had a place. The Shifter Academy had felt like the last stop on a long and meandering journey with no destination. I was starting to build something for myself, a community - hell, more than a community, a family.

  I guess that’s the thing about life, though, isn’t it? Every time you start to get used to one thing, something else turns up that throws it all out of whack again. There’s no such thing as certainty, and I was a fool if I thought that a boarding school for shapeshifters would turn out to be anything but uncertain. So I guess I’m the fool in the end, right?

  At least, that’s what I tell myself when I come to an abrupt stop at the end of a dark alleyway somewhere in downtown Boston, in the United States, my clothes filthy and my eyes bloodshot. Blaming it on having too high expectations is a hell of a lot easier than confronting the fact that it feels like the whole world has turned on me and my friends, seemingly overnight. One such friend comes to a halt beside me, his brows furrowing over his black eyes as he glances around the alleyway, lips pursed. “What’s wrong, Boots?” he asks, his eyes darting to me. His arms are full of a grocery bag - not much in the way of provisions, but considering we’re both broke college students and fugitives, we’re going to have to make do.

  “Does this alleyway look familiar to you?” I ask with an uncertain look at my surroundings.

  The dark-skinned siren shifter frowns. “Shit,” he mutters. “Now that you mention it…”

  I let out a frustrated groan. “We’ve been going in circles! Why does this city have to be so damn confusing?”

  “For whatever it’s worth,” Landon replies, “these streets all look the same at night.”

  “That’s exactly the problem,” I protest, raking a hand through my chestnut hair as I put the other one on my waist. “How the hell are we supposed to get back to the bridge if we’re lost in the middle of the… What the hell is this neighborhood even called?”

  “Back Bay?” Landon supplies. “I think. We’re by the university. That’s all I know. Remind me again why we’re making a supply run at one in the morning?”

  “You’re asking the wrong person,” I reply.

  Landon snorts. “I mean, if they’re so hellbent on finding us that they’re willing to come after us in the middle of the night, then maybe we ought to just let them take us and get it over with.”

  “You don’t mean that,” I tell him.

  “No,” he replies, his shoulders dropping. “It felt good to say it, though. Let’s head out to the boulevard,” he suggests. “We can make a left this time.”

  I give him a short nod, and we start towards the other end of the alleyway. It was raining earlier, and the cobblestone streets are still glistening with water. The night is relatively quiet, punctuated by the occasional peal of drunken laughter or burst of music from a car stereo, but I’ve learned by now that quiet doesn’t automatically mean safe.

  It’s only been two days -- or has it been three? -- since we fought our way out of the Boston Shifter Academy and made a break for it, but it already feels like we’ve been running for a lifetime. This isn’t even our city; the U.K. Shifter Academy brought us here for a field trip, an academic experience that couldn’t have gone more wrong if it had been planned that way.

  Ostensibly, it was a conference to address the escalating tensions between shifters and humans, but if one thing has become clear to me since finding out I was a shifter, it’s that nothing between humans and our kind is simple. Now, a terrorist attack, a few lies, and a brief spell under house arrest later, here we are, glancing over our shoulders to make sure Academy representatives aren’t hot on our heels whenever we leave the rundown motel where we’ve been staying for the past two nights, courtesy of our new friends, Ruby and Xander.

  Tonight is my and Landon’s turn to venture out and get supplies, and as stir-crazy as I’ve been going cooped up inside with the others, the only thing worse is the uncertainty of venturing outside. As runaway shifters privy to information about the human-run Academy’s plans, we have targets on our backs, and we know it well.

  I’m so lost in thought that I’ve let my attention slip away from the present. Only the feeling of Landon’s hand darting out and closing around my wrist is enough to make me look at him. His olive skin has taken on an ethereal glow under the moonlight, his eyes glistening. The warmth of his skin on mine isn’t lost on me, even as he holds me back to keep me from moving forward. “What’s wrong?” I ask him, eyes wide.

  “I thought I heard something,” Landon replies, glancing over his shoulder.

  I pause, concentrating. “I don’t hear anything.”

  He presses his lips together. “Maybe it was just a rat or something.” Slowly, we start forward again, Landon’s hand not leaving my wrist… and I would be lying if I said I wanted it to. But that’s an issue for another time, it seems; moments later, the siren shifter stops dead in his tracks and exclaims, “Nope, not a rat!” I turn to watch as he drops the bag of groceries to the
ground, his skin rippling with practiced ease as aqua-green scales begin to cover his body, glimmering with an almost inhuman beauty in the light of the full moon. It all happens so fast that I’m barely even aware of it, the world feeling like it’s moving in slow motion as Landon whirls around and yells, “Leave!” His voice has taken on an inhuman, commanding tone, the tone of a siren giving an order, and I follow his gaze to see a figure at the mouth of the alleyway, blocking the exit.

  My heart jumps to my throat. “What if it’s a-” I begin.

  Landon shakes his head. “It’s not.”

  As if on cue, the figure at the end of the alleyway reaches into its coat and withdraws a gun, lining up a shot as casually as if we were on a battlefield and not the middle of a city street. “Boots!” Landon yells, pushing me out of the way seconds before a bullet ricochets off the brick wall behind me. Adrenaline takes hold of me then, and I scramble for that cool blob of energy at the pit of my stomach that I’ve come to recognise as the source of my shifter magic. In spite of the fact that, as a hybrid, a bastard experiment performed by the humans in an attempt to learn the secrets of shapeshifting, I have access to all five shifter forms -- wolf, witch, siren, vampire, and dragon -- I’m still stumbling to learn to use my powers. This obviously isn’t helped by the fact that I’m no longer taking formal lessons, and although I’ve come a long way since starting at the Academy, it’s still a struggle to focus when I’m under stress.

  The human -- at least, I think it’s a human -- at the end of the alleyway begins to advance on us, firing another shot that glances off the tough scales on Landon’s shoulder. He lets out a hiss and barks out another command using his siren song. “Get away from us!”

  The figure pauses for a moment, bristling, and I can see them struggling not to obey. Landon and my friend Hazel are powerful shifters, and assured in their abilities, but that doesn’t make them all-powerful. It doesn’t make any of us all-powerful.

  Moving with difficulty, it continues its forward push, and I see that the figure is a woman. She isn’t dressed in Academy colours, nor is she distinguishable from any other human we’ve seen around the city, but the mere fact that she’s not running in fear at the sight of Landon tells me she’s one of two things. Either she’s a pro-human terrorist or an agent of the Academy who’s been sent to retrieve us, and neither option looks great for me and Landon. Gripping the pistol with both hands, she unleashes a flurry of bullets, barely managing to shake off Landon’s command. She’s had training to combat shifters, that much is clear.

  Before I can protest, Landon is moving in front of me, shielding my body with his own, grunting a little at the harmless but still painful impact of the projectiles. “A little help here, Boots?” he asks.

  “On it,” I say, and summon my siren form. Moments later, my skin is glistening with scales like Landon’s, a surge of new power rushing through me as I get access to the form’s abilities. “Let’s hope she’s bi,” I mutter, glancing at my fellow shifter. “Count of three. One… two…”

  “Leave!” we scream in unison, the combined force of our siren scream enough to send a shockwave rippling down the alleyway. It catches her full-force, and this time, she isn’t able to resist for more than a few seconds. The look she gives us is one of pure hatred even as she turns around and walks robotically away from the alleyway, her movements stiff and controlled as if she were a puppet on invisible strings.

  We wait until she’s disappeared into the Boston night before either of us dares to breathe again, slipping back into our human forms. There’s a long pause and I realise Landon is still shielding me. His body radiating heat that envelops me like an embrace against the cold night air. “Landon...” I say, my heart fluttering in my chest at the sensation of his form against mine.

  “Oh. Oh!” He glances down and pulls away from me, getting to his feet. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay.” I smile up at him as he extends a hand and helps me to my feet. “I… appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he tells me, winking, and I reluctantly let go of his hand so he can pick up the dropped grocery bag. “Shit. I think we bruised the apples.”

  I sigh and stoop down to help him. “They should still be edible ,” I say, stealing a glance in the direction the human went. “Do you think she was with the Academy?”

  Landon presses his lips together. “I don’t know,” he admits. “We’d better take side streets back to the motel, though. Just to be safe.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” I agree. “The others are going to need to know about this.”

  The siren shifter gives me a grim nod, and together we make our way back down the alleyway and onto a narrow path that runs parallel to the main road. It’s going to take us a while to find our way back, but I feel safer with him by my side than I would on my own, especially if there are more humans on our tail.

  Besides, I think grimly, setting my jaw as we round a corner, running is what I do best.

  Chapter 49

  Somehow, we manage to find our way out of the tangle of streets, following the winding roads and alleyways nearly all the way to the river which glistens ominously under the moonlight. It’s quiet out, and that’s almost disconcerting, given how much has happened over the last few days. We were never supposed to get caught up in some sort of war between species. Though you might not be able to tell on the surface, the world feels like it’s coming down around us. People -- innocent people -- died in the attack on the peace talks, and it feels like we’re running headfirst into a conspiracy we can’t escape.

  Josie, one of the two witch shifters who tracked me down when my abilities first manifested, seems to think President Hawthorne was behind the attack. A way to strong arm the school board into allowing him to continue his experiments. Whether he was behind it or not, though, he got what he wanted out of it. I cringe inwardly as we cut across an abandoned intersection at the thought of what the school must be doing to the other students right this second. We have to put a stop to this, I remind myself. This isn’t just about you anymore.

  Eventually, Landon and I arrive outside the rundown motel. We’re on a desolate street bordering the river, lined with boarded up buildings and closed down shops. It’s not the most savoury area, but it’s out of the way, and so far, the Academy hasn’t found us. We walk in through the reception area, passing a man dozing at the front desk, and work our way to the back of the building, where we’ve taken two connecting rooms using what money we had on us. Hazel, Ruby, and Xander are in one, while me and the guys are in the other, the bed stripped of pillows and blankets, which we’ve scattered around the floor. It looks more like a den than a motel room at this point, but considering we have nowhere to go and next to no resources, our options are pretty limited.

  Landon holds the groceries while I fumble the door open, and I’m surprised to see that the light is on. In spite of the early hour, it looks like everyone is up and gathered in the cramped suite, including Hazel and the twins; she’s perched on the edge of the kitchenette table, leaning absently against Xander without even looking like she realises what she’s doing. The two of them are talking as if they’re in their own little world, Ruby watching with an amused look on her face from the corner by the door. It makes me smile a little, in spite of our situation. I’m happy if she’s been able to find a connection with someone. And as for me and the guys…

  Silas, the tall dragon shifter, is sitting on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders hunched forward as he watches the near muted TV . On the screen is continuing coverage of the attack at the convention center, as well as several banners speculating the cause of the bombing. If they only knew.

  His brown eyes catch mine as soon as he hears the door shut behind us, and a look of genuine relief spreads across his face. “You’re back,” he says, untensing a little. “I was starting to get worried. You guys were gone a long time.”

  “So was I,” Hunter, the vampire shifter, echoes from his seat
at the kitchen table. He looks distressed and weary, his fiery hair tousled and his blue eyes bloodshot. He hasn’t been sleeping well the past couple nights, that much I know. The truth is I haven’t been sleeping well, either. Ever since we arrived at the hotel I’ve found myself waking up during the night, unspeakable nightmares flying through my head -- what if something happened to them, to any of them? What if Hawthorne realises just how close my relationship with them has actually become? What if…? Each time I lie there in silence, trying to tell myself to breathe. That it was just a dream, as I listen to the comforting sounds of the guys around me.

  But Hunter has been restless, too, for reasons I don’t know. He’s been thrashing in his sleep, murmuring things to himself, getting up to go for long walks outside the motel. I’m aware that he hasn’t had the easiest go of it -- not only is his father on the school board, but it took him until just a few days ago to even learn how to shapeshift. I make a mental note to ask him how he’s doing as his sapphire eyes meet mine for an instant, something complicated flashing across his face too quickly for me to identify it.

  I glance over at the wolf shifter, Shade, who is sitting on the kitchen counter and examining his fingernails. His overgrown blond hair is wild from sleep, and he is more stunning each time I look at him. I feel my stomach turn over when he abruptly looks up, raising an eyebrow at me almost imperceptibly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a knowing smirk. Damn him. In spite of his attitude and constant teasing, he’s been here for me more than I could have ever expected over the past few days -- in more ways than one. A chill runs up my spine as I remember the feeling of his skin on mine on that rooftop, the night air whipping at our hair as we pressed desperately against each other, our lips locked. “I wasn’t,” he quips. “Boots and Thyme can handle themselves.”

 

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