by Cheree Alsop
The student practically flew down the stairs. Alex rubbed his eyes and followed Trent at a slower pace than the boy’s urgency demanded. Trent ran between Alex and the doors to the courtyard three times before Alex finally reached them.
Alex had to smile. “What is it, Trent? I haven’t seen you this excited since you got that helicopter engine started.”
“You’ll see,” Trent promised, adjusting his glasses. He shoved the door open and waved his arm with a flourish.
Alex stared at the motorcycle that sat at the bottom of the cement steps. Trent followed him wordlessly down the stairs. Alex set a hand on the shiny black paint.
“Did you make this?” Alex asked, shock clear in his voice. He ran a hand over the chrome that accented the motorcycle’s body. A wolf paw in silver had been airbrushed on either side of the gas tank. Other than that, the motorcycle was pitch black and chrome.
“The dean helped me,” Trent replied. “He got me the parts and I put them together. We just got the painting done yesterday. Terith did the wolf paw.”
“She’s talented,” Alex told him, running a hand over the spotless artwork. “Grace would be proud.”
Trent beamed at the compliment to his sister. “I’ll tell her.” He put something in Alex’s hands.
Alex looked down at the helmet with black and blue lightning crafted along it. The faint etchings of a wolf’s head showed in the waves of the paint. “You want me to ride it?” he asked, surprised.
Trent’s smile deepened. He straightened his glasses and cleared his throat before saying, “Of course. It’s yours.”
Alex stared at him, then at the bike. He looked at Trent again. “You’re giving me this motorcycle.”
Trent nodded.
Alex looked at the bike again. “You’re giving me a motorcycle you and Jaze built.”
Trent gave another nod. “I built it for you, and the dean approved.”
“Jaze said you could give me a motorcycle?” Alex tried to wrap his mind around what the werewolf was telling him. “I can have it?”
“Definitely,” Trent said, repeating, “It’s yours.”
“But why?” Alex couldn’t help the question. He had never received such a gift. He knew how much work Trent put into his projects. There was no doubt the engine was a masterpiece. The student had without question found a way to improve the way it ran as he did with all engines.
“Alex, you’ve done so much for me. I wanted to say thank you.” It was clear by Trent’s tone how much it meant to him.
Alex’s eyebrows drew together as he tried to grasp what was happening. He wondered if he was still half-asleep, or if his pack mate had actually just given him a real motorcycle.
“I don’t think I’ve done that much,” he said.
Trent took a small breath. As Alex watched, the scrawny werewolf blinked quickly. He cleared his throat again. “Sure you have, Alex.” Trent gave him a small smile. “You and Cassie accepted me and Terith as your friends the moment we came to the Academy. We had no one. Our parents died in one of the General’s camps, and we were alone.” He swallowed as though his throat was tight. “You guys have been the best friends anyone could ask for, making sure we’re in your pack, eating together, hanging out during the summer.” A tear broke free. “You’re my best friend, Alex.”
Alex didn’t know what to say. He had always considered Trent his friend, and the werewolf’s words were true, but Alex’s actions had never been with a motive. He just liked Trent’s company and didn’t mind his complaining the way some of the other students did. He knew what Trent and Terith had gone through, and understood Trent’s need to be busy so that the memories didn’t overwhelm him.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Alex said. On impulse, he gave Trent a quick hug.
The werewolf ducked out from his arms. “Uh, that was awkward,” Trent replied. “So let’s not do that again.”
“Agreed,” Alex said with a laugh. He hefted the helmet. “Are you sure about this?”
“Can you drive?” Trent asked.
Alex shrugged. “I’ve never driven a motorcycle, but yeah.”
Trent’s gaze became skeptical. “What did you drive?”
“A Ferrari,” Alex answered.
Trent’s skepticism deepened. “Alright, give the helmet back.”
Alex held it out of the werewolf’s reach. “No, seriously. I’ve driven a Ferrari. I did it at Kalia’s house last Christmas. Her dad gave me the keys.”
Trent’s eyes narrowed. “Is her dad insane?”
“Apparently,” Alex agreed with a laugh. “I almost crashed it into a tree. Boris about lost it. Apparently he wrecked it once before.”
Trent shook his head. “Only you would drive a Ferrari for your first car. I’ll probably never even see one in my entire life.”
“I’ll make sure you do,” Alex promised. He pointed his helmet at the motorcycle. “Especially after this.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Trent said. He grinned. “You’d better get riding. We have school in a few hours.”
Alex swung a leg over the motorcycle. He suddenly felt nervous. “Is there anything I should know about driving it?”
“It’s fast,” Trent replied. At Alex’s rolled eyes, he nodded. “Shift down once for first, and up for the rest. Neutral is up one.”
“How do I shift?” Alex asked.
Trent chuckled as he walked around the other side of the motorcycle. “That’s pretty important.” He pointed to the clutch. “Hold that in, then tap your left foot down one for first. It’s in neutral now. When the RPMs are high enough, kick it up a notch for second, then third, etcetera. Your brake is above your right hand, and at your right foot. Use them both to stop for safety.”
“Is that everything?” Alex asked, though he was afraid he wasn’t going to remember what the werewolf had already told him.
“Uh, don’t kill it?” Trent replied.
Alex smiled. “Thanks.” He put the helmet on and fumbled with the buckle of the chin strap. It took him a minute, but he finally managed to get it snapped.
He looked down at the motorcycle. He had never sat on anything even close to it. The parts were completely custom. It wasn’t any particular make or model; Trent had created an entirely new motorcycle on his own.
Trent reached over and turned the key to the on position, then pressed the starter. The engine rumbled to life. A smile stole across Alex’s face.
“Nice, huh?” Trent asked, pride clear in his expression.
“It’s amazing,” Alex replied.
“Let the clutch out slowly after you shift. Find the sweet spot, and you’re good to go.”
“And Jaze is okay with this?” Alex asked.
Trent nodded. “He said to let you take it for a spin. Just don’t get yourself killed. I told him if bullets, missiles, and Drogan couldn’t do it, I doubted a motorcycle would.”
Alex laughed. “What’d he say to that?”
Trent shrugged. “He said you probably wouldn’t rest until you tried.”
Alex grinned. He shut his visor and shifted the motorcycle down to first gear like Trent had instructed. The engine growled beneath him. A thrum of excitement ran through Alex. He let out the clutch slowly as he rolled the throttle. The motorcycle lurched forward. He let out the clutch and heard the engine falter. Revving the throttle, he pulled in the clutch again until he found a happy medium where the engine wouldn’t die and he wasn’t in threat of whiskey throttling. He let out the clutch more slowly and matched it with the throttle. The motorcycle sped forward.
Within seconds, Alex was out the gates Trent had thoughtfully opened and was racing down the road. The engine roared to a high pitch. He squeezed the clutch and kicked the shifter into second gear. The engine growled again. He pushed it, shifting to third, then fourth when the sound of the engine told him to.
Alex couldn’t stop smiling so big it felt like his face would split into two pieces. If someone saw him, they would t
hink he was crazy. He bent lower over the gas tank, leaning into turns and getting accustomed to the way the motorcycle ate up the road like a hungry beast.
It felt as good as racing through the forest, only he didn’t have to worry about his heart giving out and sending him crashing into trees.
As if in reply, his heart gave a small stutter. Alex just grinned and shook his head. He wasn’t going to stop. He wound down the long single road that made its way through the forest to the Academy. Haroldsburg soon loomed into sight; the small town with its single stoplight was just waking up. Only two cars were out, vehicles Alex sped by as if they were at a standstill. He was through the town in a matter of seconds, then Alex was on his own.
He had never been by himself further than Haroldsburg since the day he and Cassie arrived at the Academy. There was such a rush of freedom, a sensation of breaking out of bars, of leaving walls behind. He had never felt like the Academy was a prison. It had become his home, his sanctuary, but there were times when seeing the same walls, the same windows, the same students, became almost overwhelming, as though if he didn’t find something new, he was going to go crazy.
The fresh world that rushed by him at speeds well over any he could have run filled him with such joy that he had to laugh. He kicked the motorcycle into the next gear. The engine settled into a hum that spread through his arms and legs with contentment as if the motorcycle had also needed the escape. He let out a breath, feeling as if a weight lifted off his shoulders that he hadn’t known he carried.
“Alex?”
Alex nearly jumped at Trent’s voice close to his ear.
“Alex, can you hear me?”
“Hey, Trent,” Alex replied. He searched with his fingers until he found the headset Trent had fit inside his helmet.
“How’s she run?” The pride in Trent’s voice was unmistakable.
“Trent, this is the best gift I’ve ever been given. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Just come back alive,” Trent replied with a chuckle. “If my gift kills my friend, I’m not so sure it was a great gift.”
“Oh, it’s a great gift,” Alex reassured him. “It’s amazing.”
Trent was quiet for a moment, then asked, “When are you coming back?”
“How did you know I’m not?” As soon as Alex asked the words, he knew. “There’s a tracking device on the motorcycle.”
“The dean made me put one on it. He just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
A sharp surge of frustration chased away some of the sense of freedom Alex had been enjoying. He knew Jaze was just looking after him, but he felt trapped, monitored no matter where he went.
Alex tried to keep his tone steady. “Where’s the chip?”
A hint of panic was clear in Trent’s voice when he replied, “I don’t think I should tell you.”
“I just need to know, Trent.”
“Are you upset?”
Alex hated that Trent sounded so worried. The motorcycle had been given with the purest of intentions. Alex tried to let Trent hear how much he appreciated it. “I love this motorcycle. Riding it is the best feeling I’ve had in months.” He shifted down and pulled over to the side of the road. He climbed off the motorcycle as he spoke to Trent. “I just need a bit of escape. I’ll be back, I promise. I just need this, Trent.” He couldn’t hide the whisper of desperation in his voice, and he hated himself for it. His hands clenched into fists. He willed them to relax as he studied the black bike.
“It’s beneath the gas cap,” Trent finally replied. “I put it in a black plastic sleeve that fits into the cap itself so it would be protected from the fluid.”
Alex used to key to open the cap and found the little black circle of plastic directly underneath. He pulled it out.
“I just want you to be safe,” Trent said.
“I’ll be safe,” Alex replied. “You don’t have to worry about me so much.”
“Someone does,” Trent told him.
Alex was about to toss the chip to the ground, yet he hesitated.
“I want to throw this away,” he said into the headset.
“I know,” Trent replied, his voice resigned.
Alex spoke his thoughts aloud. “If I don’t, I’m still going for a ride. I might be gone for a while.”
“Be gone as long as you want,” Trent said. The relief in his voice that Alex might not actually get rid of the chip Jaze had trusted him to place was palpable.
Alex let out a breath of resignation and put the plastic back in the gas cap. He climbed onto the motorcycle again and started it. “Tell them not to look for me unless I call them first,” he said, his tone firm.
“I’ll tell them,” Trent replied quickly, as if worried Alex would change his mind. “Uh, Alex?”
“Yeah?” Alex asked. He ran a hand over the smooth gas tank, his emotions at war.
“Will you be back today?”
The concern in Trent’s voice brought a small smile to Alex’s face. “I’ll be back tonight, I promise.”
“Good,” Trent said with so much relief Alex could practically hear him smile. “I won’t bug you anymore. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Thanks,” Alex told him. He paused, then said, “And you never bug me.”
Trent gave a little huff of laughter. “You’d be the first,” the small werewolf replied. “I’ll talk to you when you get back.”
The receiver clicked off. Alex started the engine and continued down the road. The thought that his ride was being monitored bothered him, but the fact that he could take out the chip at any time gave him at least some sense of control. He knew the motorcycle was probably far beyond the protection Jaze felt he needed. The fact that he rode by himself at all said something about the dean’s trust in him. Alex didn’t want to abuse that. He needed to ride the motorcycle. He wouldn’t press Jaze’s trust and lose his freedom.
Chapter Nine
Alex followed the horizon to a city whose buildings reached the sky. He slowed as he entered the outskirts. Though he had been to big cities several times on missions with Jaze’s pack, entering by himself had a completely different feeling. He had a sense of being small and insignificant as he drove between the buildings. Vehicles rushed by, honking at him if he drove too slowly. He had to concentrate on stopping at the red lights and starting again without killing the motorcycle. It was more difficult with drivers waiting impatiently behind him.
An overwhelming sense of claustrophobia filled Alex as he wound his way down the busy streets, waiting for crowds that hustled across the walkways as soon as the lights changed, and sometimes before. Instead of conspicuous as a werewolf, he felt completely ignored, just another light post or parking sign that meant nothing to the droves of people that massed along the sidewalks intent on unknown destinations.
Alex felt a slight longing to be one of them, to have a place to go amid the rush of traffic and pedestrians. He wondered at the families who lived in the huge apartment buildings and got distracted watching children playing along gutters where water rushed to drains beneath the roads.
For the first time in his life, Alex lost all sense of direction. Smell couldn’t tell him which way was home. He had taken so many turns and detours trying not to get killed in traffic that he found himself in the middle of the city without any idea of how to get back to the Academy. He knew he could call Trent, but he balked at the idea. He didn’t want to admit defeat, to let those at the Academy know he had gotten himself lost. It was his first time out. He would figure out how to get back.
Alex found a small park of grass and trees nestled among the buildings. He parked the motorcycle near the end of a row of cars and shoved the key in his pocket. Even if he was green to city life, he knew better than to tempt thieves with such a machine.
Eight or nine boys and girls close to his age played soccer in the middle of the grass. Laughter from younger children who hung and climbed on the playground nearby filled the air. After the chaos of the city, the park felt
like a sanctuary. Alex sank down onto the grass and watched the kids play. The feeling of the early morning cool green blades beneath his fingers calmed the whirlwind in his mind so that his thoughts were clear again.
The ball rolled close to his knee.
“Kick it back,” someone yelled.
Alex looked up to find all of the kids his age watching him. He feared in that moment that they knew his secret, that they had realized he was a werewolf in their city, an enemy to be dealt with.
“Kick us the ball,” a boy wearing a red shirt called. The boy jogged closer. There was nothing intimidating about him. He merely watched Alex curiously as though his lack of response was puzzling.
Alex shoved down the feelings of attack and willed his muscles to relax. He stood slowly, glancing from the ball to the group of boys and girls who watched him. At the red-shirted boy’s gesture, Alex kicked the ball back.
“Thanks,” the boy called before returning to the group.
Alex sat back down with his heart pounding in his chest as though he had just survived something death defying. He allowed his guard to relax enough that he leaned back on his elbows. The sound of the wind through the trees vied with the hum of traffic. It felt so strange that such a place survived within the city. To his senses, it felt like the city crowded everything else out, that the buildings, traffic, and the overall hustle of life didn’t have room for such serenity as trees and grass.
Hope. The word brushed through his mind. It had been Jet’s description for the scent of grass. Alex smiled as he smelled it. Perhaps the city and park weren’t at war. Perhaps somehow in this chaotic state, they had found a happy medium, some semblance of peace. Maybe Jet was right about there being hope.
Alex heard the footsteps, but after his last hasty conclusion, he decided to let them approach without wondering if they meant his imminent death.
“Want to play?”
Alex looked up to see the boy in the red shirt along with a girl with blonde hair tied back in a bunch of braids.
The girl smiled down at him. “Paul had to go home. We’re one person short.”
Alex’s instincts screamed for him to refuse. It could be a trap. He wasn’t a human. He might give himself away. “Uh, okay,” he said. His instincts replied that he was an idiot. Alex ignored the feeling and followed the boy and girl.
