Secret Wolves: Supernatural Shifter Academy Series

by Bailey, G.

  Some kind of a remote enchantment? I have time to wonder. It dawns on me that he must be communicating with the spellcaster telepathically, if such a thing is even possible. I can’t even do it after being given my powers back, and my blood runs cold at the thought of what that means for Hawthorne’s own abilities. That’s all I have time to consider, though, before Hawthorne is reaching out towards the first person he sees when he opens his eyes again: Hunter.

  “No!” I yell. I don’t think. My brain has already reverted back to fight or flight, my senses closing in on the sight of him brandishing his twisted mind control device at one of the men I love. On autopilot, I lunge to the left and knock the vampire shifter out of the way. He hasn’t even had time to shift yet—none of us have. It’s taken us that long just to process what’s happening. Hunter goes stumbling to the side, out of the line of fire just as the rune releases a surge of energy.

  I’m not that lucky. Right in the path of the power beam, I’m hopeless to do anything but take the brunt of the magic squarely in my chest. “Millie, no!” yells one of the guys, but I’m not even sure which one. My brain—no, my whole being—is already being consumed.

  I’ve been mind controlled once before, back when we went to get help from some of Edith’s contacts. That was a siren’s song, and although it had felt all-encompassing in the moment, in reality, it was miniscule compared to what I’m now experiencing. A blip, really, nothing more. This is so much worse.

  While the siren’s enchantment made me into a marionette, a human puppet helpless to do anything but obey, the brainwashing spell is different. My body is still my own this time, but in an instant, my entire worldview has changed. The rune colors my thoughts, casting all my memories in the horrid glow of a brand new context. It’s like suddenly seeing the world in monochrome, except instead of shades of black and white, it’s now shades of chaos and control. My entire perception of my life and the people in it has been turned on its head. Some of the sweetest memories from my time at the Academy—making love to the guys, first learning to use my powers, finding a real home for the first time in my life—are no longer beautiful. I’m consumed by an overwhelming disgust and revulsion thinking about them, like they were just some embarrassing phase rather than my entire purpose.

  I swear, I try to fight it. Even as these horrible new feelings wash over me, a small voice in my mind still yells that it’s all a lie, that I need to resist, that the new worldview being forced on me isn’t my own. But with every passing millisecond, that voice diminishes, like it’s being pulled down a dark corridor until it’s out of sight completely. Resisting it is like trying to catch air with my bare hands: impossible.

  Hawthorne is looking at me with an expression of pleasant surprise on his face that quickly turns into a full grin. What once would have been frustration now becomes happiness within me. Hawthorne is pleased, I think, a smile spreading on my face to mirror his own. That’s good. I’ve screwed up so many times, I should be thankful he’s given me this beautiful second chance. “Isn’t this an interesting turn of events?” he asks.

  My smile broadens. “I can’t believe it,” I say wonderingly, all traces of my old attitude gone. “You saved me.”

  “No, Millie,” Hawthorne says, putting his hand on my shoulder again in a way that’s almost fatherly. This time, it doesn’t make me cringe; it makes me proud. “You’ve saved yourself. I just helped show you the way.”

  “Millie, don’t!” yells Hunter from behind me. That’s enough to make me remember our audience, and I frown. A voice that once enchanted me is now as bothersome as a fly buzzing around my head. Why can’t he just let me enjoy this new sense of clarity that I’ve been gifted?

  Slowly I turn around, my expression hard and cold. The guys are all standing there, staring at me like they’ve never seen me before in their lives. Good. I feel the same way. The disgust that overtakes me as I look them over is surprising even in my altered state; how could I have once thought I loved these people? They’re nothing but children, fighting stubbornly against the inevitable. No, worse than that; they’re actively hindering Hawthorne’s plans. Why can’t they see that control is the only way to coexist? Shapeshifting was never meant to be democratized. It was meant as a means to an end, a source of power to shape the world, and they shouldn’t have it. The thought that I once cared about these people makes me cringe. “Don’t what?” I demand, moving to stand beside Hawthorne.

  “Don’t let him get to you,” Landon begs, the fear in his voice palpable. “Please.”

  “Please.” I snort and shake my head. “As if begging will help. Get a grip, Thyme.”

  “What the hell have you done to her?” roars Shade, lunging towards Hawthorne. The Academy President raises his hand almost lazily, shifting rapidly into his witch form and sending out a pulse of telekinetic energy that sends the wolf shifter flying into the opposite wall.

  None of the others have transformed yet—whether out of shock or sheer disbelief, I can’t say—but now the spell seems to be broken. They shift all at once, but even in their forms, they’re looking at me guardedly. They’re afraid to attack me, I realize, and the thought makes me want to cackle. They don’t want to hurt me. This is rich.

  Hawthorne says exactly what I’m thinking. “This is a nice bit of irony, don’t you think, Ms. Brix?”

  “Absolutely,” I reply without missing a beat. “Shall we convert them too? Whatever else they are, they could be useful to us.”

  “Oh, I hardly think that’s necessary,” Hawthorne says, pocketing the rune and taking a step forward. “Considering the trouble you’ve given me, I think it’s only fair that the punishment fits the crimes, don’t you?”

  There’s the most subtle feeling of doubt, but I squash it in an instant. I deserve whatever’s coming to me and more. All the chaos I sowed for the Academy, all the blood on my hands, it was all leading up to this. The fact that I’ve been given this new lease on life is more than I deserve. I’m lucky Hawthorne believes in second chances. “Yes, sir,” I reply.

  “You son of a bitch,” Hunter yells, leaping towards Hawthorne.

  I calmly step between him and the man I’m now loyal to, blocking his path. “No can do,” I croon, grinning at the way the vampire shifter’s face twists in horror. “If you want to get to him, you’ll have to go through me. And something tells me you won’t want to do that.”

  “No,” Hawthorne responds, “but they’ll have to. They’ll have to because you’re not going to give them a choice. The only question is, who to start with?” Furrowing his brow, he gives the guys a once over before settling on Silas. “Appropriate, I think,” he says. “Almost poetic, considering how he turned you against me in the first place. Dispose of him if you please, Ms. Brix.”

  “Gladly,” I say, rolling my shoulders back and turning on Silas.

  The dragon shifter, who up until now has been completely silent, looks utterly devastated. His heartbreak is written on his face, the flashes of his parents’ fate practically playing right before his eyes. “Millie, please,” he whispers, holding up his hands. “Don’t do this. Fight him!”

  “That’s your first mistake, Silas,” I croon mockingly. “I’m not going to fight him. I’m going to fight you.” And with that, I shift into my vampire form and lunge at him.

  Silas barely has time to transform into a dragon before I’m on him, pummeling with supercharged blows that glance off his scales. He whips his tail out, catching me in the side and sending me stumbling, but doesn’t breathe fire. Even though I’m actively trying to kill him, he still doesn’t want to seriously hurt me.

  Pathetic.

  With a hiss, I storm forward again, using my witch magic to form a force field around myself and physically knock him over as I charge him. Silas yells out in pain as he goes flying into a wall.

  “Millie,” commands Landon desperately in his siren voice, “get Hawthorne out of your head!”

  Except he isn’t in my head. There’s nothing in my
head except for me, the new and improved Millie Brix, and no siren song can change my convictions. Vampire again, I grab Landon by the throat and toss him effortlessly across the room. Hunter grabs me from behind, and his superior strength is enough to give me pause… Until I call on my dragon magic and blast a stream of fire over my shoulder. He has no choice but to pull away as he fights the scorching heat, and a solid kick to Shade’s side as he charges me is enough to get him out of my hair for now. I’ll deal with him next, I decide.

  By now, Silas has regained his footing, and a flap of his massive wings makes me back up just as he pulls out all the stops and shoots a fireball on me. Crying out, I shift into my own dragon form, effectively nullifying the heat, and lock my jaws around Silas’s as I rake at his scales with my claws. He thrashes with his tail once more, nearly knocking the wind out of me, but I hold my ground, biting down with all the strength I can muster.

  “Please, Millie!” Shade yells from the corner of the room. “We love you!”

  Again, I feel the slightest flicker of doubt, and again I push it away. It’s too late for these kinds of platitudes now, and besides, Silas is running out of air. I can feel him weakening under me, unable to breathe with my teeth clamped around his snout, and ever so slowly, his muscles begin to fail…

  Only for the door to blast open with the force of a magic I’ve only seen before in one other person. “Millie, stop.”

  Standing in the doorway is Theo himself.

  Chapter 97

  For a moment, it’s like all other sensory input goes out the window. It has nothing to do with his feelings for me, which are not only irrelevant now, but disgusting; my only loyalty is to the Academy and to Hawthorne. That’s where it always should have been, and where it always will be. How pathetic of him to think there could have ever been something between u! Given my relationship with the guys, which is also disgusting and irrelevant, he’s left with the air of a schoolboy with a silly crush. It’s almost laughable.

  That’s not what gives me pause now. Rather, his very nature is what makes me freeze in my tracks. Theo is a hybrid, and a natural-born one at that. He wasn’t created in a lab the way me and Hawthorne were. His abilities are innate, and his skills are the stuff of legends, making him arguably the most important potential asset we have. And yet, in spite of the obvious futility of resisting the Academy, still he fritters his power away on a fight he can’t hope to win. It’s as frustrating as it is contemptible, and it sows a disdain in the pit of my stomach that nothing else can compare to. My head snaps to look at Hawthorne. His hand is back in his pocket, no doubt touching the stone, but for some reason he still hasn’t used it. Does it need to be recharged? Or is it dependent on the spellcaster’s own energy reserves?

  It doesn’t matter, I think, folding my hands daintily behind my back. I’ve seen the light. That’s what’s important at the end of the day. With this in mind, I eye the rebel leader with a cold composure. “Fancy seeing you here, Theo.” I practically spit his name out. “Decided I couldn’t be trusted on my own? Probably a smart idea, in retrospect.”

  Theo’s eyes drift from me to Hawthorne and the guys and then back to me. “I was afraid of this,” he says, a twinge of regret in his voice. “This was why I didn’t want you to go. You’re too valuable to be taken advantage of by the Academy.”

  “Taken advantage of?” I ask, taking a step towards him. “Taken advantage of? That’s rich.” I snort and shake my head. “You’re the one who’s been taking advantage of me. From square one, all you’ve cared about is your own damned legacy. Why waste so much time on a cause that’s so clearly worthless? It’s ridiculous.”

  “You’re wrong,” Theo tells me in a stoic tone of voice. There’s frustration hidden just below the surface, along with a haunting sense of melancholy that makes me pause for a fraction of a second. Is he… disappointed in me? I shake the idea off. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. It doesn’t matter what any of them think. “You’ve spent all your time as a shifter standing up for what’s right, Millie,” he goes on, his pale eyes boring into mine with a surprising intensity. “Hell, you’re the direct result of the Academy’s abuses! How can you not see that?”

  “Don’t you get it?” I hiss back at him. “That’s the whole point, Theo. The Academy made me. I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for the humans. I owe them everything; I don’t owe the shifters jack shit.” Cocking my head to the side like a predator observing my prey, I change the subject. “How did you figure out this was going to happen, anyway? Did you follow us here?” I chuckle. “Stupid of you not to bring backup. You know you’re outnumbered.”

  “I’ve told you since the beginning,” Theo replies slowly, “I’ve always felt a connection to you, Millie. Call it love, call it camaraderie, call it a sixth sense. Call it whatever you want. I knew something was wrong from the minute you left. And it looks like I was right.”

  “Isn’t that sweet,” I purr. “The legendary Theo’s in love. Unfortunately for you, my allegiances have changed.”

  Crossing my arms, I move to stand beside Hawthorne, who looks as pleased as punch. “You heard her, Theo,” he says, putting his hand on the top of my head like a proud parent. “It would be easier if you just joined us, you know. We could use someone with your abilities on our side.”

  “I’ll die first,” Theo replies without missing a beat.

  “Boots, please,” Landon calls to me, his voice seeming far away. The hope has mostly gone from his tone, replaced with resignation.

  I ignore him. “Use the rune,” I tell Hawthorne. “Fix him. Hell, fix all of them, while you’re at it.”

  “Not so fast,” Hawthorne says. “I still deserve satisfaction for all the problems the rebels have caused me. Even better if your boy toys can watch while you tear this bastard’s throat out.”

  A wicked grin slowly spreads across my face, and I loosen my neck, already itching for another fight. It’s funny; before, after getting my powers back, I was afraid of myself. The bloodlust scared me, as did the ease with which I doled out violence. Now, though, it’s like I’ve been reborn. The idea of a violent fight sends a surge of excitement through me. “Gladly, sir,” I say.

  Theo holds up his hands. “I don’t want to fight you, Millie.”

  “That’s too bad,” I tell him, “because I’m just about ready to rip you limb from limb.”

  “This isn’t you,” the rebel leader protests. “Remember everything you’ve done!”

  “Useless,” I snap, and shift into my witch form before turning on the guys. “You might want to close your eyes for this. Your precious figurehead isn’t going to leave this room alive.”

  “No!” Shade yells, lurching forward, but Russo grabs him by the arm and pulls him back just as half a dozen other shifters make their way into the room. Things have just gotten a lot more interesting.

  “This should be good,” Hawthorne says, and crosses his arms.

  That’s all it takes for the apartment to descend into chaos. Russo may be human, but the guards she summoned are not, and before the guys can meddle in my business anymore, the newcomers are shifting into their forms. Rules of engagement don’t exist here. Without any fanfare, the Academy shifters descend upon the guys, who are left to shift back and defend themselves, essentially distracted from my dealings with Theo and Hawthorne. A shame, since I was hoping to watch them die or be converted personally, but we can’t always get what we want. With a snarl of aggression, I round on Theo and extend my arms.

  My telekinetic blast hits him squarely in the chest, but he’s already shifted his lower half into his vampire form, anchoring himself to the ground with his supernatural strength. “Millie, I know you’re still in there,” he says. His voice is eerily, frustratingly calm, and even though rage is pouring off me, his pale eyes seem to be looking right into me. “You can pull yourself out of this. I know you can.”

  “Like hell,” I hiss, transforming into a wolf and charging him. I fly into him, my teeth tear
ing into the untransformed flesh of his upper torso as I use my own momentum to hurl him onto the ground. Shade’s training, it seems, is still coming in handy. I’m on top of the hybrid shifter in seconds, snapping my fangs furiously at him.

  Theo gets his arms up and summons a force field of his own. It expands in a rapidly growing bubble, forcing me away from him. I dig my heels in, but it’s no use; he’s been around longer than me, and his magic is stronger. But I’m more tenacious. Shifting into my siren form, I let out a scream of pure sonic vibration that connects with his bubble. I can see the energy field vibrating from the pressure of the waves, and Theo lets out a grunt as he concentrates on keeping the barrier up.

  Hawthorne and Russo, meanwhile, are watching both fiascos like fans at a sports match, and the pride on Hawthorne’s face makes my heart surge in my chest.

  “Why don’t you fucking fight back?” I yell at Theo at an even louder volume.

  That finally does the trick. His force field fragments momentarily—only for a split second, but it’s enough of an opening for me to expel a jet of fire in his direction. The hybrid leader is forced to leap out of the way, losing his concentration and allowing the barrier to drop. Sprouting my dragon tail, I swipe it in his direction, sending him flying off his feet. He collapses in a heap, and when he drags himself back up, there’s a trickle of blood running from his nose, which is clearly broken. It’s hardly a surface wound, nothing compared to some of the violence I’ve seen, but seeing the blood on Theo’s pale face makes me freeze in my tracks.

  I hurt him, I think. I actually hurt the rebel leader.

  The feeling it elicits in me is strange, and I don’t like it. It’s like the slightest hint of uncertainty wells up in my stomach, a flicker of doubt as he stares defiantly back at me, still not doing anything to hurt me. Frustrated, I yell again, “Fight me, damn it!”

  “No, Millie,” Theo says, his voice startlingly calm. “I’m not going to fight you.”