Academy of Assassins

by Stacey Brutger

  He padded toward the bathroom, then paused to glance at her over his shoulder.

  “I promise we won’t leave without you.”

  As he disappeared, Morgan wondered if his connection to her conniving cousin was finally broken by their mating bond. She focused on the three remaining guys, eyeing them up and down. As one, they all stepped back a pace.

  “Draven.” He gulped when she said his name. “Do you have any spare clothes Ascher might be able to wear?”

  “Of course.” He released a heavy breath of relief and hurried off to do as bidden.

  Ten minutes later, Ascher exited the bathroom, his wet hair tousled. There was a wildness around him that drew attention, a pure predator staring back. His shirt was a little too tight, revealing every line of his chest, his pants a little too large, hanging mouthwateringly low on his hips. He prowled toward her, and her stupid stomach dipped in anticipation.

  He came to a stop at her side like he belonged there. “Ready?”

  She licked her lips and had to turn away, struggling to remember how to speak. “Uhmm…yeah.”

  Afraid he would touch her and reduce her to a puddle of lust, she darted for the door, practically racing toward the auditorium to escape her troubling emotions.

  The auditorium was half full. Ryder saw her confusion, and answered her unspoken question. “School doesn’t actually begin for another few days for most of the students.”

  Then there was no more speaking as they began to climb the bleachers. She and Ascher followed Ryder’s lead, heading toward an empty bench off to the side of the large room, conscious of people staring. She tugged at her black T-shirt, acutely aware she didn’t really fit the group of hot eye candy.

  Only a few minutes had passed when the teachers strode toward the center of the auditorium. Her eyes were instantly drawn to Kincade, and her mouth went dry. He actually dressed up, his button-down shirt molding to his form to perfection. He looked almost unassuming until she spotted the weapons strapped to his body, changing him from sexy professor to deadly assassin. He reminded her of a warrior from the ancient legends she read about in one of MacGregor’s many books, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

  Before the teachers could take their seats, the runes on her back flared to life, stealing the air from her lungs. Pain rippled down her spine, sending shards of agony into her every nerve ending, threatening to drop her to her knees when she doubled over. The guys were shouting, but their words were nothing more than a low mumble that didn’t penetrate the buzzing in her ears.

  Ascher knelt in front of her, carefully lifting her face. His warm touch centered her, dragging her away from the crippling pain threatening to consume her. “What is it?”

  Her lips were numb as she forced the words out past her clenched jaw. “Something’s coming.”

  He scanned her face once, then nodded. “Someone is using a lot of primordial magic. We have to go.” He shot to his feet, hauling her upright with him. He tucked her next to him and headed for the nearest exit. Before they took two steps, the air in front of them rippled, and a rift tore open not ten feet away.

  Screams erupted around them, and Morgan spun to see two more rifts. When she heard thumping from behind her, she turned to see dozens of small rocks tumbling from the portal. They uncurled and straightened, opened their large mouths and roared.

  Rock trolls.

  They were about as tall as her knees, a porous, dusty brown, with heavy beer bellies. Their faces were squished, making their bulbous noses seem even larger, their large tusks giving them an underbite. They had small, flat ears, and pure black eyes that reminded her of the beady eyes of a spider. They usually lived in tunnels under mountains, their bodies like rocks, and often ate unwary travelers. They almost always kept to themselves, and Morgan couldn’t imagine what could have enticed them to attack.

  Ascher yanked on her arm, dragging her out of the path of a nasty spiked cudgel. Morgan grabbed the railing leading up to the auditorium, ripped it from its moorings, and swung. The impromptu bat cracked into the troll, the impact reverberating up her arms like she hit solid stone, but served to launch the little bastard back through the rift.

  Ascher lifted a brow at her, then mimicked her by tearing off his own railing. Ryder didn’t bother with anything so small. He peeled up the nearest bench and used it like a bulldozer to scrape the lot of them back into the rift, the muscles of his arms and legs straining under the weight. She followed a step behind, swinging at the ones who tried to jump over and bite him.

  Draven and Atlas had pulled their blades, whirling and spinning as they hacked away at a slew of warty red imps stampeding for their unprotected backs, deftly dodging the wickedly sharp, twisted horns that sprouted out of the imps foreheads, and leaping over the lash of their speared tails.

  Beyond them, the whole auditorium was in chaos.

  At the far end of the room, a horde of bloodthirsty gnomes threatened to devour anyone foolish enough to get too close. They resembled innocent lawn statues until they turned and you saw their blood-drenched teeth and vicious, bulging black eyes. Sores covered their faces and hands until they resembled tiny little zombies, the end result of waking a gnome while it was still daylight.

  Another group battled a decaying crowd of ghouls, while another struggled to escape what appeared to be a large yeti at least seven and a half feet tall, broad as a small car, and probably weighing as much as one.

  More than half the students had taken up arms, and anarchy reigned.

  Kincade leapt off the stage, cutting a wide swath through the creatures as he made his way toward her, his eyes hard and determined. Even the teachers picked up arms and descended into the crowd.

  Her team surrounded her in a protective circle, but there were too many attacks from all fronts. “The portals need to be closed. We need to get to the witches.”

  Werewolves snarled in the distance, and Morgan snapped around to see a small knot of students surrounded by a swarm of imps. “There.”

  Even as she watched, the werewolves were torn apart. Not waiting for approval, Morgan headed in their direction, letting the wildness inside her free, using her speed and flexibility to shove through the crowd.

  Harper was at the center of the group, doing her best to blast whatever came too close, but the circle around her was shrinking alarmingly fast. Morgan caught one nasty creature on her blade like a freakish shish kebob. It screamed in pain, took a swipe at her, then slumped forward, his dying breath stinking of the rotten gore stuck between his teeth.

  She broke through the circle, took stock of the witches versus fighters, and knew they didn’t stand a chance without help. “Harper, gather all the witches and close those rifts.”

  Harper’s pale blue eyes met hers, fear bleaching her face of color. When she didn’t respond, Morgan cracked her palm over her cheek.

  A snarl curled Harper’s lips, the spark of life flowing back into her eyes. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  Morgan snorted. “Fine, but later. Those who can’t help close the portal, use your power to keep the creatures at a bay.”

  Harper glared at her for another second, then began orchestrating the witches. One witch used the power of air to catapult a small group of creatures across the auditorium. Another was using her ability to control animals to freeze a few of the closest creatures while Atlas and Draven slashed them to bits.

  Ryder remained at her side, fangs bared, claws at the ends of his fingers, nothing human remaining as he guarded her. “Ascher? Kincade?” Morgan whirled, searching for them in the mosh pit that had taken over the auditorium’s main floor.

  To her surprise, the two men fought back-to-back, the sight awe-inspiring as they demolished everything within their reach. Kincade’s moves were systematic and controlled, while Ascher’s were wilder and more daring—both men were stunning to watch.

  But while they were the best, there were just too many attackers.

  “Stay here and get those portals
closed.” Without waiting for the witches to respond, Morgan shoved her way back into the fight, ignoring Ryder’s shout of outrage. One student had a gnome clinging to his back, his teeth latched tight to the kid’s shoulder. She hesitated for a split second at the sight of blood, terrified touching him would bind them together, then she shoved away her fear, pried the little beastie away from the kid and smashed the creature against the floor until he was still.

  The guy gave her a nod of gratitude, then spun away to rejoin the fray.

  She didn’t make it two steps before an imp latched onto her leg and began to scale her like a frickin’ tree, its claws puncturing her thigh, then slicing into her hips and back as it climbed. Morgan hissed in pain, then threw herself backwards, squashing the little shit like a bloated tick. Blood and ichor drenched her back and oozed down her legs when she stood, the stench so strong it felt like she was inhaling sulfuric acid. Her eyes watered, and her throat burned until her lungs felt like they were on fire.

  She stumbled, and came face-to-face with a ghoul. He bared its jagged teeth when it locked eyes on her, reaching for her with meaty fists. She flung herself sideways and twisted.

  A second too slow.

  Nails scored her hip and raked down the outside of her leg. Seeing her injured and under attack, a small rock troll grinned at her in triumph and leapt toward her. She snatched him out of the air, then spun and bashed the ghoul over the head with him over and over. Shards of rock and brain matter splattered her until they both fell dead.

  By the time she reached her team, she felt like she’d run the gauntlet. Her leg was on fire, her back aching, and blood was trickling down the side of her face where chips from a rock troll she’d demolished had sliced her brow.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kincade cursed when he saw her, while Ascher looked furious.

  Morgan drew back her blade and sent it spinning through the air, watching it plow into the eye of the ghoul leaning down to take a bite out of Kincade. “Saving your ass.”

  They managed to hold the rift, but they were being crowded on all sides, the number of hunters slowly dwindling as they were overwhelmed and dragged through the rift.

  That’s when she noticed it. “They’re not trying to kill the students, they’re trying to capture them!”

  Kincade cast a sharp glance throughout the auditorium, then cursed when he noticed she was right. “If we don’t get our asses in gear, we’ll be next.”

  A large roar reverberated through the room, and Morgan spun to see the giant yeti bearing down on her. Ascher returned the challenging roar with one of his own and launched himself through the air, transforming midflight.

  The hellhound and yeti collided, their bodies slamming together with a thud she could feel in her chest. Ascher sank his teeth into the yeti’s shoulder, his claws raking through the dense fur, instantly staining it red.

  The big creature howled in pain and rage, then clamped arms bigger than Morgan’s entire body around Ascher and began to squeeze. Ascher yelped, and she watched them stagger toward the rift.

  “No!” Taking advantage of her smaller size, she darted between the fighters, slashing at anything that got in her way.

  She was two feet away from Ascher when arms grabbed her from behind and wrenched her backwards. She instantly recognized Kincade’s hold, his hot stone scent enveloping her. “No! No! No! Lemme go.” She kicked and punched, but the bastard refused to release his hold. “Please.”

  No matter how hard she struggled, his grip remained unbreakable, his arms like granite. Ascher must have heard her yelling and increased his attack, using his claws to shred anything he could reach. The yeti bashed his fists against the hellhound’s ribs, and even with Ascher’s protective hide, Morgan heard bones break.

  The yeti strained to keep his hold, then flung himself and Ascher through the rift with a roar of triumph.

  “No!” Morgan watched in horror as Ascher disappeared, and knew with a certainty that this time he wouldn’t be returning.

  The portal rippled, and the rift began to shrink. The creatures gave a screech of warning and stampeded toward the portals, knowing if they were caught on this side of the rift, they would be hunted down and exterminated.

  Less than a minute later, the rifts slammed shut.

  Morgan stood frozen, devastation shattering her soul, until she felt gutted. “Get your hands off me.”

  His touch made her skin crawl. “Morgan—”

  “Now!” His betrayal cut so deep, she had a hard time catching her breath. When his arms dropped away, her legs shook so hard she was barely able to remain upright and not curl up into a ball and scream. “I could’ve saved him.”

  “They would’ve taken you, too.” He reached for her, and Morgan flinched, hastily backing away.

  She couldn’t believe she fell for that fairy tale crap he told her about being a family, cursing herself for being so gullible.

  The rest of the guys gathered around her, but she didn’t pay any attention to them.

  “You bastard.” She shoved Kincade away, unable to stand having him anywhere near her, and he stumbled back in shock. “You go on and on about your elite team, promising we would never be alone, but at the first opportunity, you turned your back on him. How dare you! You’re just like those at the coven where I was raised. At the very least, Ascher was in the school, which means he was your responsibility to protect.”

  She lifted her hand, twisting her arm until the intertwined marks were clearly visible. “These mean nothing if you pick and choose when you honor them.”

  Kincade’s face hardened with every word, then he advanced on her. “What do you think would’ve happened to him if they managed to take you?”

  “You—”

  “No. It’s your turn to listen.” He grabbed her arm when she tried to back away. “Our first duty is to protect you. Your hellhound understood that. He wouldn’t want you to risk your life for him, and you know it. The people they took are only alive right now because they didn’t capture you. Once your cousin gets his hands on you, their lives are forfeit. Are you really so selfish that you would risk all their lives to save your precious hellhound?”

  His words began to punch holes in her rage, and she bit back a curse.

  He was right, she was being selfish.

  She would have gambled and risked everything to save Ascher.

  And though Kincade didn’t know it, she would have done the same for him or any of the other men on their team.

  “He’s still alive.” Kincade’s voice dropped, and he eased closer like she was a skittish animal. “Feel through the connection.” He traced a finger lightly over the marks. “Close your eyes and concentrate.”

  Her heart pounded frantically, the fragile hope in her chest a dangerous thing. If Kincade was wrong, if anything happened to Ascher, she wasn’t sure she would be able to forgive herself…or him.

  Morgan closed her eyes, and after a second, the obsidian and silver lines flared to life. Pain seared along her nerve endings, so sharp it stole her breath.

  Only it wasn’t her pain.

  Some of it came from Kincade, her angry words having wounded him deeply…the rest came from Ascher. It lasted only a split second before he blocked her, but it told her enough.

  He was alive.

  Kincade pulled her closer, and she allowed herself the luxury of leaning against him, needing his strength when her legs abruptly went weak. “We’ll get him back,” he promised.

  Morgan believed him, feeling his determination through the markings.

  He would do it…because it mattered to her.

  She marveled at the novelty of having her opinions and feelings matter.

  Having someone care.

  “We need to go.” The headmistress paused next to Kincade, bloodied and ruffled, but relatively uninjured. “We need to organize everyone, evacuate the remaining students, and get the injured to the infirmary.”

  Kincade stiffened, his grip ti
ghtening like he didn’t want to let her go—or out of fear she would be torn from him—and she knew he was going to object.

  “Go. I’ll wait with the guys in the barracks.”

  He eyed her suspiciously, then glanced over her head at the guys. When they nodded at his silent question, he grudgingly loosened his hold, and was immediately swarmed by people needing his attention.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “Morgan!” Her head snapped up to see Neil weaving his way through the crowd. He was bruised and banged up, but didn’t appear injured. “You all right?”

  She ignored his question, her mind on one thing. “We’re heading upstairs to strategize a rescue mission.”

  “Mind if I tag along?” He was jittery, and Morgan felt bad for leaving him stranded without a roommate. He didn’t have many friends, and after the attack, she didn’t blame him for not wanting to be alone.

  “Sure.” She gave him a forced smile. “Welcome to the party.”

  He straightened his ever-crooked glasses, flashed her a relieved smile, and something in her chest loosened at seeing he managed to survive the massacre.

  Everyone was silent as they entered the barracks, and she surveyed each of them. “Are any of you seriously injured?”

  While Atlas and Draven were bloodied and covered with black goo, they appeared relatively sound, with nothing more than minor scratches and bruises. Ryder seemed to have taken the brunt of the injuries, his shirt so shredded it was practically falling off him. He was still on edge, his eyes a little wild yet, his teeth still sharp, his ears a little longer and more pointed than normal.

  Morgan nodded to him. “Do you need the infirmary, or can you change?”

  Ryder paused from scraping blood off the bottom of his shoe, his broad shoulders stiffening as he glanced at her warily from the corner of his eye, clearly uncomfortable with the discussion.