Werewolf Academy Book 2

by Cheree Alsop

  Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I didn’t say,” he replied.

  It was obvious by Mrs. Dickson’s silence and persistent attention that she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had the answer.

  Alex glanced at Kalia. Kalia lifted one shoulder.

  “I grew up at the Academy.”

  Silence fell around the table. Gazes shifted from right to left. Boris looked at Kalia; the discomfort of their expressions let Alex know just what a mistake he had made.

  “Is that Jaze Carso still the head of the establishment?” Mr. Dickson asked.

  Before Alex could nod, Kalia cut him off with, “Dad, don’t go there.”

  Mr. Dickson threw up a hand. “Kali, I just don’t understand why he has to be the one to run that place. What kind of an example is he setting for those kids?”

  “Adam, it’s not our place to question,” Mrs. Dickson said quietly, resting a hand on his arm.

  “They’re a bunch of murderers, Marnie. And we’re sending our kids there. How is that supposed to help anything?” he demanded.

  Mrs. Dickson shook her head. “It’s the only place they’re safe.”

  “What if by the time they come back, we’re the ones not safe?”

  Mr. Dickson’s question hung in the air. Alex didn’t dare even swallow the bite of heavily spiced fish that was in his mouth. He couldn’t believe what they were accusing Jaze of. He didn’t know whether he should say something. He couldn’t let it sit, not with Jaze’s reputation on the line. They should know how much Jaze put himself out there to protect werewolves.

  Alex swallowed and spoke quickly before he second-guessed his decision. “Jaze puts his life on the line for—” He caught Kalia’s quick shake of the head and remembered at the last minute that her parents didn’t allow them to use the word werewolf, “For people like your children,” he finished. “He leaves his family and confronts dangerous situations on a weekly basis.”

  “If only we could hope someone would end his life,” Mr. Dickson replied.

  Alex stood up so quickly his chair screeched back. He didn’t know what to say. His instincts demanded that he defend the one who had done so much for he and Cassie, yet instincts also dictated that attacking someone in their own home was not smart or polite.

  Mr. Dickson’s eyes widened. Alex followed his gaze and glanced down. He realized he was holding a spoon in one hand and his fork in the other. Both utensils were bent by his clenched fists. He dropped them. They clattered on the table, the shapes of his fingers imprinted in the fine silverware.

  “Please excuse me,” he muttered before rushing from the table.

  “Alex,” Kalia called after him.

  “Let him go,” he heard Mr. Dickson reply as he hurried to the front of the house. “I’m not so sure inviting him here was such a good idea.”

  A servant opened the door when he neared. Alex stormed outside and rushed across the lawn. He wanted to phase, but knew with the heavy security around, he would be shot on sight. He ached to run away, to leave the Dickson residence behind and never look back. To hear what they thought about Jaze and the rest of the professors at the Academy made a knot in his stomach. The taste of fish refused to leave his mouth.

  Familiar footsteps ran across the lawn. He carefully composed his expression and turned with his arms across his chest.

  “I’m so sorry,” Kalia said. “I can’t believe he said that.”

  Alex kept his gaze on the white walls and black shutters of the mansion. “I guess it’s good for me to know what he thinks.”

  She shook her head. “Not like that. He can have a little decorum.”

  Alex’s lips twitched into a smile. “One of your fancy words again.”

  She let out a sigh. “I have a few other choice words I’d rather use.”

  Alex’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, really?”

  She nodded, opened her mouth, then shook her head with a little stomp of one foot. “I’m out of practice. Apparently the Academy has been good for me at least in one way.”

  Alex let out a small laugh. He turned his attention back to the house. The sound of the guards walking the wall a few hundred paces behind them was loud in the night. Alex could see the silhouettes of other guards checking the grounds near the house. The front door was opened by the servant. Mr. and Mrs. Dickson walked out. They paused on the porch and stood arm in arm, conversing quietly as if they didn’t notice Kalia and Alex on the vast lawn.

  Alex shifted his attention back to the white walls. “It’s amazing how something so beautiful and grand can be so cold and unfeeling.”

  “I know what you mean,” Kalia replied.

  Alex glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and realized she was watching her mother as Mrs. Dickson made her way carefully over the wide expanse of grass toward them.

  Kalia leaned closer and said in an undertone, “Just for your information, Jet may have been personally responsible for killing two of my uncles along with three cousins.”

  Alex could only stare at her. “You didn’t think to tell me that before dinner where I just proclaimed my loyalty to Jaze and his cause?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Would it have made a difference?”

  Alex sputtered. “Well, no, but, uh, but I would have at least been a bit more prepared for your father’s Jaze bashing fan club.”

  Mrs. Dickson reached them. “Are you two enjoying a little fresh air?”

  “Any air is better than being in that house one more minute,” Kalia replied.

  Mrs. Dickson’s gaze showed no reaction to her daughter’s comment. She shifted her eyes to Alex. “I hope you found your accommodations suitable.”

  “Uh, more than suitable,” Alex replied, remembering his earlier understatement that had been taken so badly. “Thank you for your hospitality.” He studied the ground at her feet. “I, uh, would like to apologize for dinner.”

  She waved her hand as though brushing away the conversation. “Don’t bother. That’s the most lively I’ve seen Adam since he and Kalia went at it at the beginning of the school year. It’s funny how he argued so hard for her to go then, and yet his opinion flips when it’s the most inconvenient for him to be disagreeable.”

  “Yeah, funny,” Kalia muttered.

  “Thank you for allowing me to stay here,” Alex told Mrs. Dickson. “I promise to induce fewer outbursts.”

  “And take away my enjoyment of our meals?” she said in a tone that was so heavily laced with sarcasm Alex couldn’t tell what part she was serious about. She turned away with a flit of her fingers before walking back across the grass.

  “She doesn’t act like she lost someone she cared about,” Alex noted quietly.

  Kalia shook her head, her shoulder-length blonde hair brushing back and forth. “She doesn’t. They were Dad’s brothers, and she despised them. He did, too, if the truth was known, but like she said so poetically, it’s convenient for him to be offended and cause arguments. He revels in drama.”

  “Why not just say the word werewolf?” Alex asked. “That’s got to be dramatic.”

  Kalia shook her head quickly. “The last time Boris did, Dad almost shot him, for real.” The note of fear in her voice let Alex know just how traumatic that had been. She let out a shaky breath. “My parents may be harmless on the surface, but they still have their Extremist side tucked away beneath.”

  After a few minutes of silence, Alex asked, “Do they know which one carries the werewolf gene?”

  Kalia’s eyes drew up at the corners in the hint of a satisfied smile. “No. They’re too afraid to check. Neither wants to carry the guilt.”

  “Of having werewolves for children,” Alex finished.

  “Of having beasts.” Kalia’s eyes flashed gold.

  “Kalia...” Alex tried to warn her.

  Kalia let out a cry of pain and hunched over with her head in her hands. Alex looked around quickly. Mrs. Dickson was already back inside the house. Her husband was nowhere to be seen. The guards acte
d as though they couldn’t care less about Kalia’s troubles.

  “I’ve got you,” Alex said softly.

  He picked up Kalia in his arms and carried her into the house. The servant at the door opened it without question. Once inside, Alex ran into Henry at the bottom of the sweeping staircase.

  “What is going on, sir?” the servant asked. Alex had to give him credit for showing more alarm than the two guards on the porch and the servant at the door.

  “She has a horrible headache,” Alex explained.

  Kalia held her head in both hands as if it was about to split open.

  “I appreciate that you are trying to help her, sir,” Henry said. He tried to figure out a way to take her from Alex, but maneuvering his arms didn’t seem to gain him any purchase.

  “I’m alright, Henry. I just don’t know where her room is,” Alex told him.

  “Oh, uh, right,” Henry stammered. He hurried up the stairs ahead of Alex and led the way along the hall. “This is her room, sir.”

  Henry pushed open a door to reveal a room that made Alex’s look like a kennel. Beside her huge four poster bed, private bathroom complete with a four person jetted bathtub, and recessed vanity, there was a sitting area with comfortable couches, a fireplace, bean bags, and enough recliners for a dozen friends.

  Alex took Kalia to the bed and set her gently on top of the carefully folded bedspread.

  He knelt down near her face. “What can I get you?” he asked.

  Kalia shook her head, then winced, her eyes squeezed shut.

  Alex didn’t know what to do. He looked back at Henry. “Do you have anything for headaches?”

  “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” Henry rushed from the room looking frazzled.

  Alex hated seeing the pain that filled Kalia’s face. He would do anything to take it away, yet he felt helpless.

  “Hold me,” Kalia said in a small voice. She opened her eyes just enough to give Alex a pleading look. He was shocked to see that her irises were still golden. The headache was lasting longer than the others he had seen.

  Alex climbed carefully onto the bed. Kalia scooted higher so that her head could rest against his chest. He ran his hand up and down her arm, hoping it helped.

  “It’s not going away,” Kalia said with alarm in her tight voice.

  “Your eyes are still gold,” Alex told her.

  Kalia gave a little sound that might have been either from pain or dismay.

  “It’s okay,” Alex said softly. “You’re going to be alright. Just hang in there.”

  When he fell quiet, Kalia said, “Keep talking. Your voice helps.”

  Alex’s heart gave a loud thump at that. Put on the spot, he tried to think of what to say.

  “Please?”

  Kalia’s pleading voice cut to Alex’s core. He took a calming breath. “I’ll tell you about the Academy before the students came. I don’t know if you want to hear it, but I don’t know what else to say.” He thought back. “When Cassie and I lost our mom and dad and Jet, we were taken to the Academy with the first group of orphans from the genocide. Torin was there, along with Trent and Terith. Torin was already a bully.” Alex gave a wry smile, remembering. “That first morning, Torin tried to force Trent to make his bed. Trent refused. I think Torin was about to kill him when I stepped in.”

  “What happened?” Kalia asked in a whisper.

  “He gave me the worst beating of my life,” Alex replied. “He had rage issues. I think he would have killed me if Vance hadn’t interrupted.”

  “That’s horrible,” Kalia said, a bit stronger.

  Alex shrugged. “I guess that’s what happens when kid werewolves are displaced and lost. You have to take out your frustrations somewhere. I just happened to be the first thing that stepped in Torin’s way.”

  He tried to ignore Kalia’s scent. It tickled his nose, filling his senses with honey and clover. He reminded himself that she was hurting, which was the only reason he was holding her.

  “What else?” Kalia asked.

  Alex thought quickly. “The Academy was much smaller back then, just a fragment of what it is now. They built one of the dorm wings and the classrooms. Apparently they were busy building the rest of the underground, too. I never knew it was there until this year.”

  “It’s incredible,” Kalia agreed.

  Alex smiled. “You sound like you’re feeling better.”

  Kalia nodded, lifting her head from Alex’s chest. Their eyes met, and he was relieved to see that hers were blue again.

  “Thank you,” she said. She lowered her lashes, her cheeks coloring red. “I’m sorry.”

  Alex shook his head quickly. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I was glad I could help. It’s a horrible feeling, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop the pain.”

  “You definitely helped,” Kalia said.

  Alex slipped off of her bed. He stood next to it with uncertainty.

  “I think I’ll get some sleep,” Kalia told him, the blush still coloring her cheeks. “I’m always exhausted after a headache.”

  “You should sleep,” Alex agreed. He glanced back at the door to find Henry watching them both; the servant held a glass of water and several small pills sitting on a tray. “Uh, Henry is here if you need some medicine.”

  “I think I’m okay,” Kalia replied. Her eyes were already closed and the words slurred slightly.

  “Goodnight, Kalia,” Alex whispered.

  He made his way to the door. He and Henry watched her for a moment until he realized how creepy it would be if she awoke to find them still there.

  He left the room and Henry followed, leaving the tray with the water and medicine on one of the lavish end tables that decorated the room.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “Mr. Dickson requests your company,” Henry told Alex after Kalia’s door shut behind them.

  “My company?” Alex was surprised. “I got the feeling Mr. Dickson didn’t especially like me.”

  “He sent me to find you,” Henry replied, leading the way down the stairs and along another hallway Alex hadn’t been. “That’s why I met you at the door. He’s been waiting for a few minutes.” There was a hint of trepidation in his voice as if in fear of Mr. Dickson’s retaliation if they were late.

  Henry opened a door to reveal a massive study. Books lined the walls all the way to the vaulted ceiling. Other shelves held collectibles that looked as though they had been gathered from across the world. A huge window took up the entire wall opposite the door. In front of it was a large, polished desk that made up the only furniture in the room. Despite the late hour, Mr. Dickson sat behind it reading a book. He looked up at their entrance. Disapproval at their tardiness was evident on his face.

  “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to see me, Mr. Davies,” Mr. Dickson said in a cold voice.

  “I’m sorry it took us so long. Kalia had a headache and I was helping her to bed,” Alex explained.

  Mr. Dickson was quiet for a moment. He finally nodded and indicated the single chair on the other side of the desk.

  “Please, take a seat.”

  Alex glanced back at Henry. The servant gave him an uncomfortable look before leaving the room and shutting the door quietly behind him. Alex gathered his nerves and crossed to the chair. His footsteps echoed against the walls, making him feel even smaller.

  He took a seat on the thinly cushioned wooden chair and waited. Mr. Dickson studied him closely, his hands linked together and elbows resting on the arms of his lavish leather chair. Alex felt every inch of his features scrutinized.

  “I have need of your,” Mr. Dickson cleared his throat, “Talents tonight.”

  “I don’t understand,” Alex replied.

  Mr. Dickson lifted his lips in a humorless smile. “Why do you suppose I would allow my daughter to invite someone of your bloodline into my home?”

  Alex shifted uncomfortably on the chair. “I thought you were being nice.”

 
Mr. Dickson gave a small chuckle. “Nice. Well. Yes. I suppose there is that.” His gaze was bland when he met Alex’s. “You must realize by now that there are not too many nice individuals left in this world toward those with your unfortunate traits.”

  “Whether they are unfortunate or not is up to me to decide,” Alex replied in a steady voice. He tried not to let show how much Mr. Dickson’s conversation bothered him.

  “Yes, well, so be it.” Mr. Dickson waved his hand as though he couldn’t care less. “I called you here because I am in need of your assistance and if you value your relationship with my daughter and son in any way, you would do best to accompany me.”

  A tremor of concern ran down Alex’s spine. “Accompany you to do what?” he asked carefully.

  Mr. Dickson straightened a stack of papers near his elbow. He then lifted a manila envelope. “I am a criminal defense attorney, and I have gotten to the point where I need to let go of a few clients. Some of those clients don’t take kindly to being let go, if you know what I mean.”

  Alex realized what Mr. Dickson was saying. “You need me to be your protection?”

  Mr. Dickson smiled. “I have plenty of bodyguards, Alex, but I can’t involve them in these matters. What I need is for someone to discreetly manage my safety during these interviews. It should be simple, really.” His gaze narrowed. “I have a strong feeling that Jaze Carso is teaching you much more than academics at that Academy. It’s time to prove yourself, my boy.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  Mr. Dickson’s lips pressed together in a tight line before he said, “Then I’ll have to invite Boris along instead. I’d prefer to keep my son out of my business, but if you insist on taking the coward’s way out, I will have no choice.”

  Alex’s stomach clenched. He was being blackmailed into acting as Mr. Dickson’s personal security. He had no idea what kind of men Mr. Dickson was dealing with. He didn’t want to mess with them, but he didn’t want Boris too, either.

  “Need I remind you that one word from me and you’ll be back at the Academy? From what I hear, it is a dangerous place for you right now.”

  The knot in Alex’s stomach turned to steel. He didn’t want to bring the danger that followed him back to the Academy where his family and friends lived. If he wanted to stay, he had to do what Mr. Dickson asked.