Secret Wolves: Supernatural Shifter Academy Series

by Bailey, G.

  “But why…” I begin.

  “If the rumors are true, and he does have shifting abilities, then he has no need for shifters anymore,” Hazel says. “We’re all expendable now, and he knows it. I think he’s trying to install himself as some kind of… behind-the-scenes dictator. His goals go past the shifter communities, Millie. He wants to use his powers to rule the world.”

  The prospect is so cartoony and absurd that it’s enough to make me laugh, but I can’t manage even a chuckle. Hawthorne gave himself powers. Some way, somehow, he finally got what he wanted. And that’s no laughing matter.

  “What do we do?” I ask, although whom the question is directed towards, I can’t say for sure.

  “Did you get your powers back?” Hazel asks, point blank.

  “Yes,” I reply. “Yesterday. It’s… a bit more than I bargained for. There are some odd side effects.”

  “Side effects?”

  I shake my head uselessly, looking around at the guys, who are all listening intently. “I don’t know,” I admit. “It feels like I’m stronger than I was before. More durable.” More bloodthirsty, adds a small voice in my head. More prone to violence. But I don’t voice this last bit.

  “Good. Brilliant.” Hazel sounds relieved. “We need you, Millie. There’s no way we can win this fight without you.”

  “But—” I protest.

  “Hybrids might be our best weapon against Hawthorne,” Hazel points out, “especially if he has more than one powerset. You’re all Theo’s been talking about—he thinks you’re the one who will save us once and for all. They practically had to drag him out to keep him from looking for you some more.”

  My throat goes dry. Theo has made no secret of his… admiration for me, but this hits on a different level. If he truly wants to use me as some kind of trump card, what does that mean for me? For us?

  “You have to come to Edinburgh,” Hazel continues. “That’s where the resistance is gathering. The Academy hasn’t touched us yet, thank god, but if we want to keep it that way, we need someone with your powers here with us. This could be our last chance against Hawthorne, Millie.”

  “Okay, Hazel,” I say, after a moment’s pause. “We’ll be there. We can leave today.”

  “Please hurry,” the siren shifter says, and hangs up. Slowly, I look up and around at the guys.

  This could be our last chance against Hawthorne, Millie.

  No pressure, right?

  Chapter 88

  “I guess this means we have our marching orders, right?” asks Landon, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and jamming his hands in his pockets. “It feels like it’s all about to come to a head.”

  “I’ve got some news for you, Landon,” Shade replies easily, crossing his arms. “This all came to a head a long time ago. The rest of us are just stuck playing catchup.”

  I’m not sure whether that notion is comforting or panic-inducing, but either way, I manage a small smile as we follow the old cobblestone road that runs alongside the river. There aren’t many people out and about, but now isn’t the time for drawing unwanted attention - especially if it’s coming from uninitiated humans.

  Silas has fallen silently into step beside me, his tall form casting a protective shadow over my body, which somehow helps put me at ease. Hunter, on my other side, slips his hand into mine and squeezes it gently; I return the gesture without needing to say anything. That might be the best thing about this relationship, I’m realizing: we no longer need words to understand each other’s emotions.

  “Where in Edinburgh are they organizing?” asks Shade.

  I frown and consult my phone for Hazel’s text. “She said they’ve taken over a hotel… The Balmoral?” I shrug. “Never heard of it.”

  Landon’s eyebrows shoot up, but before he can say anything, Hunter exclaims, “The Balmoral? How the hell did he manage that?”

  “I take it it’s a swanky place,” Shade states.

  “‘Swanky’ doesn’t begin to cover it,” Landon explains. “It’s an honest to god castle. It also happens to be smack in the middle of the city center, so clearly Theo wasn’t thinking about location.”

  “Any landmarks you can point me to?” I ask, just as we turn right and onto a small stone bridge leading to the other side of the river. From here, I have a good view of pedestrians coming from either direction, and it seems like the coast is clear.

  The vampire and siren shifters exchange a look. “It’s on Princes Street,” Hunter replies after a moment. “My parents took me there on business once. Aim for the Scott Monument - I remember passing it on the way there.”

  I nod, a frown of concentration furrowing my brows. I’ll be the first to admit I’m no geography expert, but I think I know the statue he’s talking about. I hope. “Everyone hold on,” I instruct, linking my free hand with Silas’ and watching as the others do the same, forming a perfect circle. “I’m still adjusting to these new power levels, so I don’t know if…” I don’t even have time to finish the sentence before I feel another powerful surge of energy coursing through me the moment I invest the slightest bit of concentration. An image of the monument appears behind my closed eyelids, as clear as if I passed it every single day, and the next thing I know the world around us is shifting in the blink of an eye. A split second later, the stone bridge has become a concrete sidewalk, the sun now obscured by the shadow of the enormous gothic tower we now find ourselves standing under.

  I barely even had to think about it, let alone exert myself, and I stumble back, nearly hitting one of the support columns before Shade catches and steadies me. “You’re something else, Boots,” he murmurs before letting me go.

  I shoot him an uneasy grin. “Let’s hope in a good way.”

  The park stretches long on either side of where we are, but it doesn’t take Hunter long to get his bearings. “There,” he says, craning his neck and nodding in the direction of the intersection to our east. “That’s it—that big brown one with the clock tower.”

  We step out from under the shadows to get a better look, and lo and behold, there it is. It looks like it could have come out of a storybook, an enormous, imposing building that might once have housed royalty. Landon whistles through his teeth. “It’s not exactly under the radar.”

  “There’s something smart to that, though,” Silas points out. “Theo’s clearly strategizing. If there are as many shifters in the area as Hazel says, it might make them think twice if we’re headquartered somewhere so obvious. It sends a message.”

  “We’ll just have to wait and see if it sends the right one,” Shade says, his expression darkening. I move to ask him what the problem is, but he’s already moving past me, the look on his face uncharacteristically stormy.

  “What’s gotten into him?” Landon asks, falling into step beside me as we cross the grass, rejoin the sidewalk, and make a beeline for the hotel. Nothing suspicious is standing out, but the possibility that this could be a trap has crossed my mind. We’re too far in it now to backtrack, though, that’s for sure.

  “I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “Silas just mentioned Theo, and he got all…” I shrug, searching for the right word.

  “Possessive?” Landon quirks an eyebrow at me and then bursts out laughing when he sees my expression. “You know, maybe I ought to give that whole ‘dark and brooding’ thing a try. It’s a nice aesthetic.”

  “You know I can hear you, Thyme,” Shade calls over his shoulder to us.

  “So am I right, then?” Landon demands. “Don’t tell me Theo has you all in a twist. Jealousy is unbecoming.”

  “It’s not jealousy,” Shade replies, a little too quickly, and I can see the tension in his back and shoulders. “It’s suspicion. Can you blame me for not tripping over myself to trust the guy?”

  “He’s taken good care of us so far,” Silas points out, “and he clearly cares about shifter wellbeing. I mean, look at Millie: he practically took her under his wing.”

  “I know,” Shade grow
ls. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “We just have something in common,” I insist, catching up to the wolf shifter. “You know how rare hybrids are, Shade.” Still, there’s a twinge of doubt, but I push it away. It’s obviously just projection.

  “Damn right, you are,” Hunter says, grinning. “And with this new… boost, or whatever you want to call it, you’ll wipe the floor with Hawthorne. He’ll never even see it coming.”

  My shoulders slump and I look down at the ground, lost in thought. Shade, seeming to sense my unease, drops a bit of his glumness and glances at me. “Look, Boots, I didn’t mean-”

  “It’s not that,” I say with a sigh. “It’s these new powers. It’s like I’m back, and I’m me, but… Something’s different. And I’m not sure if it’s in a good way or not.”

  “Why? Because you’re so much more powerful now?” asks Silas.

  I nod. “I mean, you saw what happened to Edith. To your parents.” It’s a low blow to bring it up so soon, but if there were ever a time to make my feelings known, it’s now, before we charge straight back into the fire. “What if they somehow get to me? You saw what I did back at Josie’s, and that was after being rusty for who knows how long. If they turned me, who knows what I would be capable of?” I look to the others for an opinion, but their silence tells me everything I need to know: they’ve considered the same thing, and it worries them too, even if they don’t say it. Sighing, I shake my head. “All this time trying to get my powers back, and now I’m starting to wonder if I should’ve just stayed human.”

  To my surprise, Hunter is the first one to speak up. “Don’t talk like that.” His ocean blue eyes meet mine, and I see nothing but empathy and affection reflected back at me. “This is who you are, Boots. It’s who you’re meant to be. And we’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe - to keep us all safe.”

  He looks around at the others, and they nod their agreement. “We’re with you, Boots,” Silas says finally, effectively ending the discussion and putting my mind at ease. “No matter what.”

  The interior of the hotel is just as lavish as the exterior: everything seems to be gilded, with live palm trees, gold trim, and balconies visible all the way to the upper floors. Not for the first time, it crosses my mind just how lucky I am to have come from basically nothing to staying in places like this. It’s a little melancholic to know that I’ll never get to appreciate it for what it is; it’s a means to an end for us, nothing more.

  I’m expecting some kind of security, or at least some sort of grouchy bouncer like there was at Theo’s last base, but to my surprise, the doorman ushers us in without a second thought. Another shifter, perhaps?’

  Almost as soon as the concierge sees me, her face lights up. “You must be Millie Brix,” she says, reaching across the desk to give me an enthusiastic handshake. “And your… friends?” she adds, nodding in the direction of the guys.

  I nod. “We’re—” Then, thinking better of it, I lean forward. “We’re here for Theo.”

  “Indeed.” The woman hurries out from behind the desk. “He gave us explicit instructions to look for someone of your description. Honestly, he’s visited quite a few times, and I’ve never seen him all bent out of shape like this.” Lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone, she adds, “I take it you’re… one of them, then? A shifter?”

  “Er… yes,” I reply after a moment’s hesitation. “And yourself?” We might as well be talking about our favorite foods!

  “Me? Oh, no, no,” the concierge replies. “I’m just a normie, myself.”

  I can sense Silas’ hackles go up. “Then how do you know-”

  She holds a hand up. “It’s all right. We at the Balmoral have been hosting your kind for more than a hundred years. It’s a bit of a trade secret. We’ve never had one shifter rent out the entire place before, though. You guys having a party or something?”

  “Something like that,” I reply evasively. “Do you know where I can find Theo?”

  The concierge blinks, her smile faltering just a little. “Why don’t I show you to your rooms first, and then I would be happy to lead you to him.”

  “Oh.” I shuffle my feet. “I was hoping I could talk to him now. It’s… kind of time sensitive.”

  “In that case,” she replies, after a moment’s pause, “shall I take the gentlemen up?”

  “Oh, no, no,” Landon says, laughing. “We know better than that by now. We go where she goes.”

  The concierge looks suddenly uncomfortable, glancing over her shoulder for a moment before explaining, “The thing is, Ms. Brix, Theo is in recovery right now. He had a bit of a nasty accident before he came here and doesn’t have the energy for too many visitors. He requested that when you arrived, I bring you to speak with him—alone.”

  Shade’s eyes flash. “Are you fucking kidding me? The nerve of this guy—”

  “Hey.” I put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. You guys go on up, and I’ll meet you once I get the debrief from Theo.”

  “Good enough for me,” Hunter says. “I could use a shower.”

  “Excellent.” The concierge gestures to an underling, who hurries to her side. “Huel here will help you with your luggage. If you’ll follow me this way, Ms. Brix…”

  Casting one last glance back at the guys, I allow her to lead me through the lobby in the direction of what looks like a restaurant: spacious and bright, all bathed in the glow from a sun window. It’s more or less entirely empty. “Theo is just at the table in the back corner, there,” the concierge says, pointing. Indeed, I can see a figure with a familiar head of snow-white hair, his back to me.

  Thanking the woman, I excuse myself, taking a deep breath as I make my way over to his table. He doesn’t seem to hear me coming, and at last I come to a stop stiffly behind him. “Hi, Theo.”

  Chapter 89

  For a moment, I wonder if he even heard me. I’m just opening my mouth to speak up again when slowly, he turns around in his seat. Those white eyes bore into mine, ethereal and unnerving in equal measure. His hair is slightly mussed, I see, but what’s more shocking is the fact that his pale skin is mottled with fresh cuts, scrapes and bruises—much like Silas’ was last night. Seemingly seeing my surprise, Theo smirks at me. “You should see the other guy.”

  Clearing my throat, the tension momentarily broken, I reply, "You look like shit."

  "I feel like shit," Theo informed me, before lifting his left arm. To my surprise, it's in a sling.

  "What happened?" I ask, my nerves giving way to my curiosity.

  "Wolf shifter got to me," Theo replies. "Nearly ripped my arm right off. It was hanging by a thread by the time the others dragged me out of there. I… wasn't ready to leave," he adds, and his eyes flicker up to meet mine almost tentatively. A rush of… something hits me squarely in the chest, my cheeks flushing a little as I look down at the ground, suddenly desperate to not have him staring at me the way he is. Seemingly sensing my agitation, Theo pulls his gaze away from me, straightens in his chair, and gestures at the seat across from him. "Please, sit." I do as I'm instructed, careful not to brush against his injured arm as I settle into the chair on the other side of the table. "Anything to drink or eat?" Theo asks, already rummaging for his wallet. "I'm buying."

  "That's okay," I hasten to assure him. "Forgive me if my appetite isn't the best right now."

  "Indeed," says Theo. "I've been told congratulations are in order. You're a shifter again."

  "For better or worse," I mutter dryly, venturing a glance at him.

  Theo smirks. "Thank god for that."

  A moment passes, and then I clear my throat. "Out of curiosity, Theo, why did you want me to come here alone?"

  Theo clears his throat. "Yes, about that. I hope this doesn't make you feel uncomfortable, Millie, but I…" He takes a breath. "You are special to me, and that's the long and short of it. Not in spite of your hybridism, but because of it." Leaning forward in his seat, Theo makes a move to reach for me w
ith his free hand… but then seems to think the better of it and lets it drop to the table. The longing in his expression is palpable, so much that it's almost unbearable. "We're two of a kind, Millie," he says conclusively. "Whatever else we are, we share a story shared by almost no one else in the world."

  "Except Hawthorne," I reply in a dismal tone. "And whoever else he's gotten his hooks into."

  Theo's expression darkens, all the tenderness seeping out of his voice. "He isn't going to get away with this, Millie. One way or another, we're ending his despotism."

  "How, though?" I ask, finally allowing the cracks in my disposition show. "He's brainwashing real shifters, Theo. I assume you've figured that out by now."

  "I had heard reports," Theo admits. "Nothing concrete, though, nothing that standard manipulation wouldn't be able to do. I take it you've seen this firsthand?"

  "Silas' parents," I reply quietly. "They used to be heads of their community. They were planning a coup. Until yesterday, we all thought they were dead."

  "The dark dragon shifter's parents?" Theo's brow furrows. "I think I remember meeting them once or twice, back before the Academy's oppression became overt. They had some of the strongest convictions I'd ever seen."

  "So what do we do, then?" I am. "Any ideas on what could be controlling them in the first place?"

  "My first thought would be sirens," Theo says, "but not even the strongest of them is able to sustain their song for that long, and at that distance."

  "Witches, then?" I prompt, wondering if it's possible Josie just isn't in the loop.

  Theo shakes his head. "I grew up among witches," he reminds me, "and I never once heard of a spell that powerful. That said, though, a spell seems to be the only possibility. If the witch shifter were powerful enough…" His voice trails off and he looks thoughtful.

  My thoughts once again return to Edith, the strongest witch shifter I've ever met. I'm having a hard time imagining someone stronger than she is. The prospect puts an unsettling feeling in my stomach. "Let's say it is a spell, then," I suggest. "What would we have to do to stop it?"