Breed of Havoc (The Breed Chronicles #3)

by Lanie Jordan

  BREED OF HAVOC

  It's been over a year since Director Greene recruited me to join the CGE. Things aren't exactly going as planned. I've been chased down by demons, I survived a vampire bite when no one ever has before, and last Phase, I found a demon that liked me because of my DNA. The thing is, I liked it back and I don't know why.

  I was convinced this year couldn't be any worse, but I was wrong. Almost everyone is scared of me or hates me. People are saying I'm dangerous. They're calling me a freak and a demon.

  And I can't argue with them when I think they might be right.

  DEDICATION

  To everyone who has been waiting for this book: You guys are the best. (And I'm sorry it took so long!)

  To my lovely mom and my wonderful friends: As always, I love y'all.

  To all the readers and bloggers who've supported me along the way: I wouldn't be where I am without you.

  To my Kat: Well...you'll see. *wink*

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Cover

  Breed of Havoc

  Dedication

  Title Page

  Chapter 01

  Chapter 02

  Chapter 03

  Chapter 04

  Chapter 05

  Chapter 06

  Chapter 07

  Chapter 08

  Chapter 09

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Copyright

  About Lanie

  Other Titles

  Excerpt

  CHAPTER 01

  Phase Three started with a bang. Literally.

  Fireworks went off behind the North Tower in a rain of colorful designs in the dusk sky. Beside me, Tasha Monroe (one of my best friends) shook her head. Her long, golden-brown hair shimmered down her back. “You’re going to get yourself expelled,” she muttered under her breath, staring at her boyfriend, Chris Stevens.

  Beside her, Chris’s light green eyes were wide as he looked at his feet to avoid her glare. He slid his tablet under his leg, trying to get it out of sight. Seconds before the fireworks had gone off, the tablet had been resting in his lap, but then he’d touched the screen and boom, pretty colors filled the sky. But these hadn’t been small fireworks like he’d set off during Phase One. These had been big ones. Considering he was already on Assistant Director Barnes’s bad side for setting off smoke-bombs last Phase, it surprised me that he’d try something so risky.

  Even Director Greene (who was pretty lenient with this stuff) didn’t seem pleased this time. On his way to the podium—for his usual beginning of Phase speech—he’d stopped and glanced at the firework display over the North Tower. He turned back and started moving again, his eyes narrowed. He stormed over to Assistant Director Barnes and said a few words. After a few nods, she turned on her heel, marched up the bleachers, and pointed one slim finger at Chris. “With me. Now,” she said, making the come-with-me motion. She went back down the bleachers, not waiting to see if he followed, likely because she knew he had to.

  Chris gulped, ran his fingers through his few-inches-too-long dark blond hair, cast one look at the rest of us, and then followed her.

  Tasha’s eyes were wide as she tracked him with her gaze. She started to stand up, as if to follow them.

  Beside me, my boyfriend and other best friend, Lincoln ‘Linc’ Stone, laid his hand on her arm to stop her. “You can’t do anything for him.”

  Greene and Barnes walked a short way away and left Chris standing in front of everyone. Half the P3s were chuckling while the other half looked at him like it was the last time they’d see him. Chris stared blankly ahead, his shoulders sagging more and more with each passing second.

  Tasha started tapping her foot. “I swear, if he does get expelled, I’m going to kick that skinny boy’s ass.”

  Linc shrugged. “Can’t say he’s boring.”

  I, being a wise person, kept my mouth shut. For at least three seconds. “He won’t be expelled. Greene had him set-up all that Halloween stuff last Phase.” As far as good arguments went, it was pretty weak. Unfortunately, it was the best I had.

  Tasha nodded grimly. Her brown eyes were dark with anger. “Yeah, to keep him out of trouble. Now he’s gone and gotten himself into more.” She made an angry face. “The idiot. It’d serve him right if he did get expelled or suspended again.”

  “Again?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” Tasha rolled her eyes. “He was suspended at the beginning of Phase One for pulling this kind of crap. Don’t know why he keeps pressing his luck. Director Greene is nice, but Chris is going too far with the fireworks, especially when no one knows where he gets them.” She sighed now. “That’s probably what they’re asking him.”

  I started to say something, but then stopped when whispers of “Greene’s coming back” spread.

  When Greene stepped up to the podium again, he looked ready to attack. An angry man in a suit was a scary sight, especially when that angry man was Greene. The suit, a light shade of brown, only made his dark brown eyes seem that much fiercer. His gaze was hard, his lips a thin, angry line. “I had fully expected to start this Phase with a less-than-enthusiastic speech,” he began, his tone clipped. “However, since the incident with Mr. Stevens, my priorities have changed, and instead you’ll be receiving a different less-than-enthusiastic speech.” He paused for half a second. “I want to make it perfectly clear to every Prospect here that having fireworks is against the rules, unless you’re given express permission to use them. Furthermore, sneaking them onto the property is much, much worse.”

  “How’d he get them here?” a guy asked.

  Greene, either not sure of the answer or deciding not to give anyone else any ideas, ignored the question. Instead, in the same clipped tone as before, he said, “As of right now, many of you are underage, and for the time being, we are still your legal guardians. We at the CGE try our best to have reasonable rules and expectations of our Prospects. We’ve done everything we can to treat you with respect and not limit what you can or cannot do. We’re determined to make your time here as enjoyable as possible. However, we do have a few rules and we’ve had them since each of you joined. They’re not difficult rules to follow. In fact, I believe they’re very reasonable, and if any of you took a second to consider where you were before coming here, I’m confident you’d agree.”

  A few people nodded reluctantly, like they saw his point but didn’t want to.

  “We’ll go over those rules again, just to ensure everyone is on the same page.” He walked out from behind the podium to stand in front of it. His gaze traveled along the bleachers and he looked each of us in the eyes at least once. “Sneaking drugs and weapons onto the property is forbidden. Fireworks are forbidden. Telling anyone the true nature of our work here is forbidden. Bringing attention to our facility is, as you may have guessed, also forbidden.” He waved his hand now. “There are a few more, but the ones I listed are among the most important. You can all understand why.”

  A girl a lot braver than me raised her hand. “Why are fireworks banned? I’m not arguing,” she added quickly, “I’m just curious. They seem…less important than the other things.”

  “That’s a fair question. The answer is simple: it draws attention to us, attention that we cannot afford to have. It’s October now, so the time for fireworks is long past. Our cover story here is, of course, secure. However, we don’t need the police called, wondering why a research facility has firewo
rks going off this time of year. That’s the last thing we want. I wasn’t happy with the display during your first Phase, but it was closer to July and therefore less likely to be reported.” He paused now. “We don’t need, nor do we want, the New Orlando Police Department asking questions about us. Police officers tend to be curious people. All they need is one answer they don’t like and they’ll make it their life’s mission to get a satisfying one. That answer would only raise more questions and could—though I’ll admit it’s unlikely—lead to the knowledge of demon hunters and then demons.”

  “Someone, either the president or the cops, just need to tell people about demons already.”

  A few people shouted their agreement.

  I didn’t see who’d made the comment, but Greene had since he was standing at the front of the bleachers.

  “This is something else we’ve discussed before, Mr. Gregory. Yes, having the world know about demons might make things easier in the long run. The long run,” he added. “Until the chaos that ensued ended, it would only make our jobs that much harder and cost us too many lives in the meantime.”

  All around the Gregory kid, people shook their heads and shot him looks like they thought his question had been stupid. I almost laughed. Seconds before, they’d been right there with him, nodding as he’d asked. He glared at them.

  My how the tides turn, I thought.

  Greene cleared his throat to bring attention back to himself. He looked at the small crowd, studied it. “Under normal circumstances, I don’t get into many details about your fourth and final Phase. However, with what happened last Phase and what happened today, I believe I should address a few points earlier than usual.” He waited a beat. “Next year will mark the last Phase of your training for some, while it will also mark the beginning of a new Phase of training for others.”

  “But we already knew that,” someone commented.

  “Perhaps. But what you may not know is that making it this far is no guarantee that you’ll make it to Phase Four. Even if you do, it does not mean you’ll be selected for the treatments. The rules from here on will be much stricter. Things that were forgiven or overlooked in previous Phases won’t be so easily ignored this one. Breaks will rarely be given. Broken rules will result in consequences.” His eyes darkened. “Most of you have been with us for two years and you’re all well aware of the rules. You know what we’ve expected of you. I’m sad to say, we’ll expect even more from this point forward.”

  The words surprised me. I’d assumed the first Phase was the one he used to weed out those who hadn’t or wouldn’t make the cut. Like Felecia Fitzgerald, my ex-nemesis and the indirect (or maybe direct) cause for the vampire bite that could have (and probably should have) killed me. But now we’d have more hoops to jump through?

  Linc and I exchanged frowns. He sat, resting his elbows on his knees, but then he twisted to raise his hand in the air.

  Greene nodded to him. “Yes, Mr. Stone?”

  “So we’re not all going to make it to Phase Four?”

  “No, I’m afraid that scenario is unlikely. Not impossible, but I’ve yet to see it happen. Phase Four is one of the most important, so we’re even more selective of those who pass.”

  A guy in the middle row waved his hand. “Because of the treatments?”

  “In a large part, yes. Not everyone will sign up for them, and not everyone who does will be given the opportunity to receive them. We must be certain those who remain in the program are up to the training required and the treatments themselves.”

  “So when do we find out if we’ve made it?” Eric Reynolds asked, not bothering to hide his glare. He was about the same height as Linc, and before summer break, he’d been about the same build as him, too, but he’d bulked up a little since. His hair was dark blond and shaggy, and his eyes, a dark brown, were always narrowed in a glare—usually in my direction.

  My jaws clamped together just hearing his voice. I didn’t feel bad silently hoping he was among those who wouldn’t make it. Not after the crap he pulled last Phase, or over summer break. He and Rachel Clarkson (who blamed me for Felecia’s expulsion over said vampire incident) were the new Banes Of My Existence. Systematically, they made my summer break miserable, like at the end of last Phase, and managed to get everyone else to join in on her Hate On Jade parade.

  “You’ll either find out when you’re excused from training, or before the start of Phase Four.”

  Eric snorted. “Bet the Demon Whisperer makes it,” he muttered under his breath as he shot a dirty look my way.

  I knew Linc hadn’t heard him. I probably shouldn’t have been able to, but my senses had improved in the last year. They were better than almost anyone else here (except maybe some of the CGE agents), though what I saw or heard wasn’t always good. Like now. And it was, I thought bitterly, one of the main reasons he hated me. Because I already had demon DNA.

  And it could do with the fact that you punched Rachel in the face last Phase.

  But I was pretty sure it was mostly due to the DNA thing since everyone now thought of me as part demon.

  Linc wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Ignore him.”

  “What?” My eyebrows scrunched together. “You heard him?”

  “No, but I didn’t need to. You’re staring at him like you hope his head will explode or catch on fire, so I’m assuming you heard something and it wasn’t nice.” He lifted a hand to my face and brushed aside stray strands of my hair. “What’d he say?”

  “Nothing new,” I mumbled.

  Linc’s expression hardened for an instant, but then he just pulled me closer, so I rested my head on his shoulder and listened as Greene continued on.

  “Your classes will be more difficult than before, but I’m sure you’ve already surmised as much,” Greene said, almost smiling now. “Your weekly allowance will be raised by ten percent and you’ll participate in more real-life scenarios.”

  “So it’s just like last Phase, only more fun,” someone snickered.

  Greene heard the guy and shook his head. “Not quite. There will be some added perks, yes. But your weekends will be spent much as they were during your summer break, with three-hour training sessions three weekends a month beginning in November.”

  There was a collective groan. “Isn’t that illegal or something?”

  Greene didn’t say anything for a full minute, just raised an eyebrow and stared at the question asker—Natalie Pierce, my second Combat partner from last Phase. “No, it is not illegal, Miss Pierce. Most teenagers go to school and work part-time jobs. Consider the weekend training your part-time job.” There was another pause, and this time, he did smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, if you feel you’re not up to the task, you can speak with me after I’m finished here. I’d be glad to make other arrangements that might suit you better.”

  “In other words, deal with it or leave,” Linc muttered.

  I elbowed him, even if I did agree with his interpretation. Natalie was nice enough. Not exactly friendly, but at least she didn’t actively hate me. Considering the number of people I could lump in that category, I wasn’t exactly anxious to see her go. The number of people who actually liked me now was very small.

  Someone else raised their hand, but Greene waved them off.

  “Let me make something perfectly clear, shall I? This phase won’t be easy, and next Phase will be even worse. If you’re selected for the genetic treatments, your schedules will change drastically. You’ll be expected to follow a strict diet, a daunting training program, and a minimum of twice-weekly checkups with one of the doctors on staff. One of those appointments will include getting an injection. Those who receive the treatments will not be permitted to leave the property for the first six months after receiving them.”

  “What?” Eric jumped to his feet as P3s all around him went wide-eyed. “We’ll be stuck here, for six months, without being able to go anywhere else?”

  “That is what I said, yes.” Greene w
aited until Eric retook his seat. “Those first months are crucial. There are too many variables that must be watched for. The transition will not be as easy as it may sound, and any unknown contaminants could jeopardize the treatments’ effectiveness and your lives.”

  A girl in the front row shook her head. “That stinks.”

  “Perhaps. But you’d enjoy a six-month quarantine even less, which is what the protocol used to be before we made advancements in the treatments.”

  “But it’s still basically quarantine. Only we’re stuck here.”

  Personally, I wasn’t worried about that. We only went to New Orlando once a month as it was, and even then, I rarely went. I wasn’t a big shopper and I had everything I needed right here. Not that I had to worry about it either way. It wasn’t like I could get any more treatments. At least I didn’t think so.

  “That is true. Again, I assume you’d much prefer being stuck here than being stuck in a small room for those six months. I also think it’s safe to assume you’d enjoy having your genetic treatments contaminated even less. That can be…painful and rather unpleasant from what I’ve seen first-hand. I’m sure your instructors would be happy to provide you with pictures, should you be interested in seeing them. Actually, I may suggest they do that.”

  That seemed to shut everyone up, even though a few Prospects still seemed unhappy with the news.

  “The treatments are dangerous,” Greene continued. “They’re not like a Christmas gift you can return if you don’t like what you’re given. You can’t exchange them for something better. For better or worse, they are something you’ll live with for the rest of your lives. This is one of the reasons we have four Phases. This is one of the reasons why our policy is so strict, and why we wait until you’re eighteen before you’re allowed to receive them. Not everyone can handle the treatments.”

  Tasha raised her hand, and when Greene called on her, she said, “What do you mean?”

  “What I mean is some take advantage of their new found strength. Some think they’re invincible and act reckless, doing something that harms themselves or others. Some have psychological issues. The transition is smooth more times than it’s not, but for some rare individuals, it can be dangerous, both physically and mentally. This is another reason the Prospects are kept under close observation for so long.”