by Cheree Alsop
“We’ll call it quits for today,” Colleen said. She rolled her violet eyes. “I don’t think any of you can concentrate enough to make it up the course safely with Christmas break so close anyways.”
Nobody contradicted the professor. Snow was falling more thickly, making it dangerous for anyone to attempt the upper levels of the course. Alex felt relieved at the chance to escape.
“Want to walk with us back to the Academy?” Torin asked Kalia where she waited by the tree line.
“You should tell her you tried,” Cassie encouraged quietly.
Alex shook his head. “It’s not worth it.”
“You’re going to let Torin win?” Tennison asked in surprise from Cassie’s side.
Alex rolled his eyes. “I’m not letting Torin win. I’m...” But he was at a loss as to exactly what he was doing.
A sharp slap sounded in front of them. Alex looked up to see Torin put a hand to his cheek and Kalia stomp back toward them, her eyes flashing and her lips set in a tight line.
“What happened?” little Caitlyn asked when they caught up to Kalia. Pack Torin burst out laughing and Sid shoved Torin’s shoulder. Torin grinned as though he had won something.
“He said I owed him a kiss for rescuing me,” Kalia exclaimed. “Can you believe that?” Alex caught sight of a hint of red in her cheeks before she turned to walk beside Cassie.
Alex followed them with surprising feelings of jealousy. When Kalia glanced behind her, their eyes met and held for a moment. Kalia smiled at him and slipped her arm through Cassie’s. The girls talked quietly and giggled on their way back to the Academy.
Alex let the rest of Pack Jericho pass him. He kicked the snow and lost himself watching the way it coated the land and trees, covering the bushes, game trails, and meadows in an expanse of powdery white that was unbroken except for the places where animals had left their mark.
Alex wondered if there was a way for him to be blanketed like the snow, if his internal scars and dark places could be covered and hidden so that they wouldn’t surface at the worst times. He wanted to laugh and joke like his friends and pack mates, carefree, guessing about what Christmas would bring. Yet Christmas reminded him of parents that had been slain in front of him, and of the terror of being pursued by Drogan. He remembered how it had been to gather around a tree with his mom and dad and Cassie. They had been innocent once, unaware of the truth of their heritage and the way their lives would come crashing down around them.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was surrounded by the ghosts of those he had lost. He hoped that he might one day be strong like Jet, but thoughts of the pit and Drogan’s mismatched eyes made his insides quake with a fear that left a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew Drogan was being dealt with by the GPA, but that didn’t help when the man’s face surfaced in his nightmares along with the General’s.
Alex had only seen the General in pictures posted on Brock’s surveillance boards. The fact that the bloodthirsty werewolf Extremist was his father made Alex feel as though the blood in his veins was tainted. He felt unworthy to be at the Academy, yet when those thoughts shifted to Cassie, he balked, knowing it was ridiculous that she could be judged for being related to someone so dark and twisted.
Alex believed it of himself, and he waged internal war over it. He felt as though darkness fought to overcome the happiness he held inside. The things he had seen and experienced left a hollow edge to his thoughts, as though he didn’t deserve joy. He didn’t know what to think anymore.
“I knew if I waited long enough you’d get here.”
Alex’s head jerked up at the sound of Kalia’s voice.
She smiled at him, completely oblivious to his dark thoughts. “You’re going to make us both late for lunch.”
“I’m not hungry,” Alex replied.
“You’ve got to eat,” Kalia told him. “You’re going to lose too much weight.” She squeezed his arm. “Don’t want to miss any of these muscles.”
Alex tried a smile and failed.
Kalia sighed and fell in beside him. “I don’t know what’s up with you, Alex, so I’m going to make it easy. I’ll go to the dance with you.”
Kalia tried to peer at his ducked face. Alex couldn’t fake happiness, and he hated himself for the confusion that filled her eyes.
“Torin asked me to the dance,” Kalia said quickly as though searching for something to distract him. “That’s really why I slapped him. I told Cassie that he said I owed him a kiss, but he didn’t. I don’t know why I said that. I think it’s easier than telling her Torin wanted to go with me. I don’t know if he was joking or what his deal was today—”
“I think you should go with him.” The words were out before Alex could stop himself.
Kalia stopped in her tracks, stunned. “What did you say?” she asked, her breath fogging the air.
Alex knew he had gone too far to retreat. He shoved his hands in his pockets and met her gaze. “Go with him, Kalia.” His voice was harsher than he intended.
Kalia stared at him. “But I thought...and Cassie said...and we’ve always...” Tears appeared in her eyes. She blinked quickly, forbidding them to break free. In the place of hurt, anger filled her expression. “Alex Davies, I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” Kalia shouted. “But you can’t treat a girl like this. I deserve better.”
She stood there with her chest heaving and arms crossed, her icy blue eyes flashing in anger.
Alex knew she expected an apology, but he didn’t have it inside himself to give. Silence wrapped around them like thick cotton, sinking in to cover all the things he couldn’t explain. He felt for a moment like he was truly covered in snow. Alex said the only thing he could.
“I know you deserve better.” He spoke quietly, but the words still echoed in his ears, like they were the loudest shout instead of just a whisper.
Kalia’s lips were red. They stood out as she talked. Alex focused on them instead of the words that cut into him. “I hate you, Alex.” She spun on her heel and stomped through the gate.
Before she could reach the Academy, Kalia gave a cry of pain. She fell to her knees in the snow holding her head.
“Kalia!” Alex shouted. He ran to her side. One look was enough to confirm that her eyes were gold. “I’ve got you,” Alex said gently. He gathered her in his arms and stood.
Alex managed to pull open to the door to the Academy and had just stepped inside when a roar that sounded like it came from an angry bear stopped every student in their tracks.
“What did you do to her?” Boris demanded, shoving through boys and girls who were making their way to the Great Hall for lunch.
Kalia cringed in pain at the volume of her brother’s voice.
“She has a headache,” Alex explained quickly, making his way toward the medical wing.
Boris grabbed Alex’s shoulder, spinning him around hard enough that he almost dropped Kalia. “Why does she have a headache?”
If it wasn’t for Kalia clutched to his chest, Alex would have snapped right there. Instead, he gave Boris a look filled with such anger that the Alpha actually took a step back.
“I will talk to you after Kalia is taken care of,” Alex said in carefully spaced words.
Every student in the hallway stared at them as Alex pushed past the Alpha into the medical wing.
“What happened?” Lyra asked, hurrying up the hall at the sound of the commotion.
“Kalia’s having another bad headache. Can you help her?” Alex hated the note of desperation in his voice. If someone didn’t do something quickly, he felt like he was going to explode.
“Right in here,” Lyra said.
Alex followed her to an empty room and laid Kalia on the bed.
“It’s bad,” Kalia moaned.
“I’ll help it go away,” Lyra told her.
At the professor’s nod, Alex slipped out of the room. The second he was in the hallway, Boris grabbed the front of his shirt in two fists and slammed him against the
wall.
“Why does she have a headache?” the Alpha demanded. “I know she doesn’t get them for no reason.”
“Because I won’t take her to the dance,” Alex growled. He gripped Boris’ hands and tried to pry them away from his shirt, but Boris wouldn’t budge.
“Is she not good enough for you?” Boris yelled.
Lyra’s head poked out of the door. “Guys, take your dispute elsewhere. You’re not helping Kalia with your fighting.”
A chagrined look crossed Boris’ face and he set Alex down.
“Sorry, Professor,” he said.
Alex shoved past Boris with more force than was necessary. The Alpha let him go.
Chapter Twenty
Alex was glad Jaze wasn’t in his office. He opened the panel in the dean’s wall and slipped inside. Hurrying through the tunnels, he bypassed the control room and reached the secondary vehicle storage room where Trent worked on his projects. The werewolf was nowhere to be seen. Alex crossed to the motorcycle that stood near a pile of motor pieces. The helmet was resting on the foot peg and the key was in the ignition as though Trent guessed Alex might need it.
He pushed the door that opened a hidden passage in the side of the wall. Alex strapped on the helmet and started the motorcycle. The growl of the motor helped to ease the tension in his muscles. He kicked it into first gear and sped down the tunnel.
Light broke around him when he burst through the second door that led to a dirt road hidden at the edge of the forest. The tires skidded in the snow, but Alex didn’t ease up. He gunned the motorcycle down the dirt road and onto the main one where it wound away from the Academy.
Escape. That was all he could think of. Emotions swirled through him with the force of a blizzard. He couldn’t put the Academy and everyone inside behind him fast enough. He kept pushing the bike until he was in the highest gear, speeding down the freeway at far faster speeds than an officer would allow. It wasn’t the safest ride considering the patches of snow that drifted across the road. Alex found himself hoping he would wreck, that he would feel something besides the emotions and memories that pressed in on him from every side, threatening to suffocate him.
“Alex, you okay?” Trent’s voice buzzed over the headset.
Alex was half-tempted to turn it off. He reached up a hand, but hesitated without touching his helmet.
“I feel like I left a part of me in that pit, Trent.”
The words were low, harsh. It tore Alex up to admit them, to tell his friend that he was less than the werewolf Trent looked up to.
“I know you did.”
Trent’s words surprised him. “You do?”
“Yeah.” The honesty in the werewolf’s voice pierced through Alex. “I’ve heard your screams at night.”
Alex swallowed. He wondered how many of his other pack mates had heard the nightmares that plagued his sleep. He let out a slow breath. “I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m falling apart or I’m going to explode at any second.”
“Boris doesn’t help.”
Alex nodded at his friend’s insight. “Yeah.”
“It’s not smart to hit a punching bag that can pummel you back.”
Alex chuckled at Trent’s words and the tightness in his chest eased a bit. “He let me go before one or both of us ended up in the medical wing.”
“It gets slow in there. I don’t think Professor Lyra would mind the company, but your mom might.”
Alex nodded. “She doesn’t need to know what I’m going through.”
“Why not?”
The front tire hit a particularly icy patch of road. It took Alex a moment to steer out of the slide. He slowed down a bit.
“Because I don’t need anyone else thinking I’m crazy.”
“You’re not crazy, Alex. You went through something bad, really bad, and you’re trying to get over it. It’s PTSD.”
“PT what?” Alex asked, amused that his friend had actually given him a diagnosis.
“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Soldiers get it from the things they see at war. It doesn’t surprise me that you have the same problem.”
Trent’s understanding made Alex feel just a bit better. “Okay, Doctor. So what do I do about it?”
“First of all, you don’t need a doctor; you need a psychiatrist. You’ve got to talk to someone about what you went through. It helps to get the memories out in the open so you can deal with them.”
Alex fought back a laugh at the seriousness of the werewolf’s tone. “And second?”
“Meds, heavy meds. The heavier, the better,” Trent concluded.
Alex burst out laughing, then so did Trent. “The heavier, the better?”
Trent chuckled. “Definitely. You need all the medication you can get, my friend.”
“Good to know,” Alex said.
Silence fell between them for a few minutes. It felt better to know that someone cared about where he went and what he was going through. He knew he could talk to Cassie, but she and Tennison seemed happy and he didn’t want to worry her. The same went with Meredith. She had gone through so much that he didn’t want to bring up her experiences and make her go through them again.
Trent’s voice was quiet when he asked, “How long are you going to be gone?”
“I’m not sure,” Alex replied. “I just need some time to think.”
“I’ll cover for you.”
Alex swallowed against his suddenly tight throat. “Thanks a lot.”
“Anytime,” Trent replied. He was silent, then said, “If you need to talk, I’m here.”
Alex nodded, but didn’t answer. He drove the motorcycle through the afternoon, skirting small towns along the same path he had taken the first time Trent showed him the bike. He eventually reached the city and steered through the crowded streets feeling more confident than he had the last time. Dirt-blackened snow filled the gutters but the streets and sidewalks were clear.
The droves of people hurrying to their destinations did so wearing thick coats, gloves, hats, and boots. Alex felt conspicuous in his thin tee-shirt and jeans, but the cold didn’t bother him. He pulled up to the park half-expecting to see the same students playing soccer. Instead, the snowy expanse was broken only by the tracks of dogs and cats that were no longer in sight. Someone had built a snowman near one corner of the park, but it had been tagged with green spray paint in some sort of a gang symbol.
Alex pulled his motorcycle next to the curb and climbed off. It felt strange being there alone after the excitement of learning a new game and making friends last time. He walked through the snow, kicking at it with the toe of his sneaker. The place felt like his memories, haunted almost, like the students who had been there were merely ghosts playing with his mind.
Frustrated, Alex climbed onto the motorcycle once more and drove to the little café. The red neon sign flashed ‘open’, but he didn’t have any money. Unwilling to make that mistake again, Alex was about to gun the motorcycle toward home when he noticed a man bending over a car across the street.
The man rose and Alex realized with a start that it was Ruse, one of the thugs who had tried to steal his motorcycle. He had the same buzzed haircut with the stars on the sides of his head, but he looked different in slacks and a white shirt that was somewhat tucked in. Ruse fiddled with the engine for a few moments, then hurried to the driver’s side of the car and attempted to start it. The engine didn’t make a noise.
He swore and hit the steering wheel. “Late again,” he growled, running a hand across his shaved head. “I’m seriously going to lose my job this time.”
“I didn’t think someone like you had a job,” Alex called from across the empty street.
Ruse glanced in the direction of Alex’s voice. When he realized who was speaking, he climbed out of the car. Alex was surprised to see a wry smile fill the man’s face as he glanced from Alex to the motorcycle.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” Ruse admitted.
Alex nodded toward the car.
“Is that yours or are you trying to steal it, too?”
Ruse shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat and leaned against the beat-up car. “It’s mine.”
“Why should I believe you?” Alex asked suspiciously.
Ruse looked as though he was debating whether he owed it to Alex to explain or not. He finally walked around to the passenger side of the car.
“Because if you call the cops and tell them I’m stealing it, I’ll never get to work,” Ruse said. He pulled something out of the glove box and held it out. “Check it.”
Alex hesitated before crossing the road, but there was no one in sight and he already knew he could take on the thug if Ruse proved to be up to his old habits. Alex accepted the paper. It was a vehicle registration under the name Roosevelt Gans.
“Who’s Roosevelt?” Alex asked dryly.
Ruse sighed and reached for his back pocket. Alex took a step back in case the thug decided to pull out a weapon. Ruse gave him another wry grin when he saw the movement. “It’s alright. It’s just a driver’s license.” He handed it to Alex.
Alex studied the picture. It was a younger shot of Ruse with a red bandana around his neck and diamond studs in his ears. The name said Roosevelt Gans.
“Anyone who calls me Roosevelt besides my mother learns pretty fast not to,” Ruse told him, taking the license back.
“So if you have a car, why try to take my motorcycle?” Alex asked.
Ruse shrugged. “Times are tough. Paychecks don’t quite make ends meet the way they should. I figured we could sell a bike like that for a pretty penny.” He gestured toward it. “Custom jobs bring in the cash.”
Alex tried to understand. “But it’s not yours.”
Ruse shut the door and leaned against it. “I was going to make it mine before you went all Kung Fu on us.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Tell me something. Are you a werewolf?”
