Breed of Havoc (The Breed Chronicles #3)

by Lanie Jordan

  Then again, weren’t my genetics the reason other people hated me?

  Either way, this whole thing ranked lower than dirt. If I’d actually had a list of things to do on the weekend, being here wouldn’t have been anywhere on it. Ever.

  Rachel and her friends would do anything they could to make me look bad, and unfortunately, it probably wouldn’t take much when just breathing accomplished that.

  Greene let the silence last for another minute or so. “Are there any other questions?”

  “Can we go back to sleep now?” someone said, blinking rapidly, like they were fighting to stay awake.

  Greene chuckled. “Yes. Check your emails tonight—you’ll be sent the time for your first meeting next week.”

  Rachel and her friends moved in front me, preventing me from moving unless I wanted to knock them over or be knocked over. The first part didn’t sound half bad, but then that’d only give them more fuel against me, so I just sat and patiently waited. It wasn’t like I was in a hurry, anyway.

  When Kristina walked by, I said, “Thanks.”

  She paused in front of me. “I meant what I said. I don’t have any problems with you, not anymore.” She shrugged. “You probably don’t want to do this—and hey, can’t say I blame you—but you should. I’d be interested in hearing what you’ve got to say.” She shrugged again and left.

  I frowned after her. I didn’t want to do it, damnit, and I couldn’t figure out why Greene wanted me to. “What is he on?” I muttered.

  “Pardon me?”

  I looked up and found Greene standing in front of me now. “Er, sorry.” I really needed to work on that thinking out loud thing.

  “I’m assuming that was to me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  I would have lied—still considered it—but he didn’t seem angry. He looked amused. “Well, kind of. I mean, you know they hate me.”

  “They don’t understand you. I don’t think any of them hate you, Miss Hall.”

  This time, I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “The point is,” he said, “I mentioned last year that I wanted you to set an example and I think this will help you do that.”

  “I think you’re asking for trouble.”

  “Perhaps.” His lips raised at the corners. “But perhaps you’re not giving them enough credit. Before today, would you have expected anyone to defend you?”

  “Yes—”

  “Really?” he shot back.

  “Okay, no, but—”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. At least one person proved you wrong. Word of mouth goes a long way, Miss Hall. Think of the movies you and Mr. Stone rent.”

  I wanted to ask how he knew, but then I remembered it’s Greene. He knew everything.

  “You’d be more likely to pick a movie someone you trust vouched for, as opposed to, say, reviews from strangers, correct? You’d likely read the reviews, but your friend’s opinion would hold more weight.”

  “Okay, I can see your point there…”

  “Unfortunately, life at the CGE can be, and often is, similar. In fact, it’s much the same everywhere, as I’m sure you already know. Everyone knew about you within days. Word of mouth—both good and bad, I’m afraid—travels quickly.”

  “And if she decides she hates me again?” I muttered.

  “Then you’ll manage, I’m sure. You’re very resourceful.”

  Resourceful. How the heck was I resourceful? But instead of asking that, I picked another question that popped into my head. “Why did you call us here today? Why not just wait until next week?”

  “Mainly, I wanted to see their reactions, and yours, when I suggested you participate. Also, I didn’t want you to feel obligated, and had I done this next week instead of today, I was fearful you would feel that way.”

  “I’m not supposed to feel that way now?”

  He smiled down at me—but it was more of a grin than an actual smile. “I’m not above hoping you’ll feel some obligation.”

  I laughed. “You’re a sneaky man, Director Greene.”

  “And you, whether you choose to believe it, remain a valued asset, and the other Prospects—especially the P4s—can learn a lot from you.”

  It always gave me a weird feeling when he said something like that. Or anything complimentary, really. Compliments made me feel weird, especially coming from Greene. I couldn’t place it exactly, but it always felt like there was some hidden meaning behind his words, or some other way he meant them.

  Or maybe I was just downright paranoid.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Thank you for coming this morning. I’ll email you with the same information as everyone else. If you feel you’d like to join in on the mentoring, simply show up at the requested time. And if, understandably, you wish not to participate, then don’t. It’s as simple as that.”

  “If I don’t show up now, they’ll think it’s because of them.”

  “There is that.”

  My eyes narrowed. “You’re even sneakier than I thought you were, aren’t you? You wanted me to think that!”

  He shot me a half-innocent, half-amused look. “I’m simply giving you options.”

  I shook my head. “That’s what you want me to think you’re doing.”

  He chuckled. “Very well. At the end of your first Phase, I told you that I may not do or say something I’d like to, but it didn’t mean I was above hoping someone else would do it for me. It’s called delegating.”

  “It’s called manipulating.”

  “It’s been called that, too.”

  My mouth dropped open and he actually winked at me. Greene. He winked. I was so surprised that I gaped after him, not even realizing he was walking away until he was nearly out the door.

  “Hell,” I muttered.

  By the time I followed him out of the auditorium, he was nowhere in sight. After a second, I decided that was probably for the best. I was going to go back to sleep and force myself to forget this morning happened, at least for a few hours. Sleep helped everything, didn’t it? Kinda how duct tape and super glue fixed everything.

  Reaching the third floor, I cursed at myself for going too far and missing my floor. I turned around and muttered angry things under my breath until I reached my room.

  When I went inside, I tossed my ID on the desk and plopped down on my bed, dropping my head to my hands. What the heck was Greene thinking asking me to mentor people? People older than me. People that hated me. He had agents for that, damnit. And he knew—he admitted as much—that I’d do it. I couldn’t back out of it now, not when everyone heard him ask me to participate. I’d never live it down. Hell, I probably won’t live it down either way, I admitted silently.

  I didn’t know what Rachel’d do or how she’d do it, but I was sure—hell, I was willing to bet—she’d do something to embarrass me. She’d do something to make me regret doing it.

  CHAPTER 07

  Despite wanting to go back to sleep, I never did. Being the nice girlfriend I was, I waited a few hours before waking Linc to tell him about Greene’s new plan for me. Linc said I should do it. He tried saying I had until December to decide, but seemed to think I was too dumb to realize that was less than a week away. Or maybe he was just trying to make it sound better. (Which it did, but for only half a second.)

  Tasha, when I finally told her later that same day, said Greene was trying to cause me to have a mental breakdown with all the stuff I had to do. She was infinity percent (her words) against the idea. After being glared at by Tasha, Chris said he saw pros and cons to both sides. When I asked him what the pros were, he only gaped at me, like he hadn’t expected me to actually ask.

  So I was basically left with one vote for, one against, one tied, and my own vote of undecidedness. I was glad for their opinions—I just would’ve been more glad if they would have actually helped me decide.

  The good news: I had a full week to figure out what I was—or wasn’t—going to do. The bad news: I only had a week to fig
ure out what I was—or wasn’t—going to do.

  More good news: classes picked up pace and I was too busy worrying about those to worry about the mentor thing. More bad news: my classes were kicking my butt.

  By Sunday afternoon, I still hadn’t come to a solid decision about the mentor program. Despite their opinions, Linc and the others figured I’d do it, so by that evening, I admitted they were right, I’d do it.

  But it didn’t mean I had to like it.

  The closer it got to nine—the time the meeting started—the more I questioned my sanity, or maybe my insanity. “Why do I do this to myself?” I asked. “I know better, don’t I? Shouldn’t I?”

  “Because, as Tasha would say, ‘you’re a stand up girl, Jade Hall’,” Linc said in a pretty good impression of her.

  I snorted. “Yeah, she’d probably comment on my obvious lack of brain cells, too.”

  “Probably.”

  “Can I sneak you in as backup?”

  “No.”

  “Can I try?”

  “No.”

  “Well, you’re no fun. What kind of boyfriend won’t let his girlfriend sneak him in as secret backup when he knows she’ll probably need it?”

  He blinked, obviously trying to decipher what I’d said. “The me kind.”

  “I’ll remember this moment when you need backup.”

  “You be sure to do that.”

  We were in his room, with me sitting on his bed and him sitting at his desk chair in front of me. I kicked the chair away, and he spun around and around, grinning the whole time. “You’re kind of annoying when you’re being unflexible and unwilling to—”

  “Is ‘unflexible’ a word?”

  “Probably not. It’s actually ‘inflexible’, but ‘unflexible’ sounds better.” I waved my hand at him as he smirked. “That’s beside the point. The annoying part is the issue.”

  “The issue is you’re procrastinating.”

  “Probably,” I muttered angrily, which made him grin again.

  His eyes landed on the clock. “And you’re going to be late if you don’t leave.”

  “Fine. I’m going.” I rose from the bed. “You’ll walk me up?”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “You told me not to. You told me, and I quote, ‘Don’t let me talk you into going with me. I can do it myself—’”

  “Oh, that’s low.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Using my own words against me. That’s almost as bad as using logic against me.” When his eyebrows lifted and he didn’t say anything else, I let out a sigh. “Okay, I really am going. I can do this.”

  “You can do this.”

  I walked to the door and had it open before spinning back. “Are you sure—”

  He shoved me out and closed the door, laughing.

  “Your support is overwhelming!” I yelled at the door. I thumped my fist on it once, stuck my tongue out, and then walked away. I made it a few steps before I remembered I’d left my ID in his room. I hope the meeting goes really long and I have to wake his butt up. I grinned at that. It was a small comfort, but it made me feel slightly better as I took the stairs to the fifth floor.

  The door was open so I walked inside, hoping someone—someone who liked me—was there. Peter or Adam, or even Harry or Dale. But once inside, I quickly realized no one but the P4s had arrived. Rachel swung around, her gaze zeroing in on me. Surprisingly, she didn’t say anything, only glared before spinning back to her friends.

  There were two tables and nearly a dozen chairs now. Instead of sitting at the table (because no one else was either), I took a seat at the far end of the bleachers, away from Rachel and her lot.

  Every few seconds, Rachel or someone else would glance at me and, covering their face with their hand, whisper something to the person closest to them. I heard them. It was the same old bullshit. Me being part demon, the baby Sercoon’s reaction to me, and now, of course, the Burrower that’d hunted me down.

  Did anything stay secret here, or was it only my issues that were known to every Prospect?

  Peter and Adam walked in before I could think about it more. Peter had his usual relaxed smile on his face. Adam, spotting me, winked and followed Peter to the center of the room, where most of the others were standing and talking to each other.

  “Is this everyone?” Peter asked.

  A few people looked around, as if double-checking, and nodded.

  “Alright. Come on over so we can start the meeting.”

  Everyone took a seat. Me and Kristina were the last two standing, so we ended up sitting next to Peter and Adam, with the other P4s across from us. I didn’t mind a bit. Given my choice, I would’ve sat by them, anyway.

  Still smiling, Peter looked at everyone. “You’re here to learn about the genetic treatments you’ll be getting in a few months. So, anyone have any questions or a place for us to start?”

  “I do.” It was Rachel, which had me cringing inwardly. “Are we going to end up as weird as her?” Naturally, she pointed to me. “I mean, have her weird abilities,” she corrected with a fake smirk.

  Peter’s eyes narrowed slightly but the smile remained in place. His tone was friendly enough, though it was cooler now. “Unlikely.”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “That’s something at least.”

  “If you think,” Peter started, “I wouldn’t ask for the abilities she has, you’re wrong. And if you think you’re better off without them, you’re wrong again.”

  “Why?” There was a maliciousness in Rachel’s tone. “We’ve all heard the rumors from last Phase, that she’s turned into a freaking magnet for demons. What’s so great about that? What’s so great about attracting killer demons?”

  “Attracting killer demons? Not much. But you’re leaving out the fact that not all of them hate her.”

  “That’s supposed to be good? They like her.”

  “Some do, yes. Though I have no idea how that would be helpful to hunters.” The sarcasm dripped from Peter’s tone smoothly.

  “Didn’t one nearly kill her last Phase?” a dark-haired guy asked. I’d overheard his friends call him Tommy.

  Rachel shot Peter a yeah-answer-that-one look.

  “None of the abilities come without a price. Even the ones you’d think would only benefit you have downsides.”

  “How?”

  This time, it was Adam that spoke. “Your senses are improved. You’ll hear sounds you’ve never heard before, which is great until you hear something you shouldn’t. Most hunters can see a lot further away, but some...their eyes are more sensitive to light. We’re stronger, but when most of your opponents—demons—are still two or three times stronger than you, it’s not exactly a huge advantage.”

  “Then why do people get them?” David, a light-haired guy, asked.

  “Because they help,” Adam answered.

  “You’re all forgetting that not every hunter has had the treatments.” Peter glanced at everyone. “There are more hunters without them than there are with. People were doing this before the treatments were available.”

  David shook his head. “I get that, but if they don’t help, then what’s the point?”

  “A small advantage is better than nothing, isn’t it?” Adam asked. “Wouldn’t you still be here, even if you couldn’t get the treatments?”

  As a few people nodded, Tommy leaned closer. “But what about her?” he said, indicating me. “What other abilities does she—”

  Peter shook his head. “‘She’ has a name. And this isn’t about Jade or her abilities. This is about you and your soon-to-be abilities. If all you want to do is discuss Jade, I’m afraid we’re all wasting our time here. Keep it professional—not personal.”

  “Will getting the treatments hurt? No one’s ever said.” Kristina looked at the other P4s. “I’ve heard some things, but I’m not sure if they’re true or not.”

  “They’re…uncomfortable,” Peter said. “I’m not a scientist, so I don’t understand the technology beh
ind it or every little detail, but you’re unconscious while receiving them. Once you wake up, it’s like a constant state of growing pains for a few weeks—not quite painful, but not quite not, either. More achy and annoying, like you’ve got the flu. Your muscles are rebuilding, strengthening.”

  “You know when you sleep somewhere new and you hear strange new sounds?” Adam asked.

  Most of the small group nodded. Some looked unhappy thinking about Adam’s words. That’d always been one of my least favorite parts of moving around—getting used to all the new sounds. New footsteps, weird creaking, noisy dripping.

  “It’s similar to that, only intensified. For me, it was like hearing constant whispers. It took some time to adjust to it,” he said. Beside him, Peter snorted, so Adam glared at him. “Okay, so it took me a long time to adjust.”

  Peter leaned back in his chair, grinning. “You jumped at every weird sound.”

  A bit of color crept into Adam’s cheeks. “The point is, you have to readjust to things again, relearn sights and sounds. Even textures can feel different. It takes some getting used to.”

  “Was it different for you?” Kristina asked.

  I stared ahead, wondering why no one was answering.

  “Jade?”

  “Yeah?”

  Peter smirked. “The question was for you.”

  “Me? Oh!” I blinked. “Yeah, I guess it was different. Before I got to the CGE, I never thought about what was or wasn’t normal for me or anyone else. Honestly, I never had much reason to. People see and hear things differently, but I never knew there was that big of a difference between what I saw and heard versus what others saw and heard.”

  Though, looking back, it did explain things a little, like when I’d lived at the Pond. There were a few times when the others would have been in another room talking and I’d comment, and then they’d go quiet or shout at me about eavesdropping. I never understood why they’d yelled at me, because I’d always assumed they’d been talking loud enough for me to hear.