The Girl Who Cried War

by Heather Hildenbrand

  When they do, I pause, coming up short as Professor Higgins rises from the brown leather couch.

  "Good morning, Romy," he says, extending a hand. "I hear you've been looking for me."

  Chapter 2

  I blink, a little thrown off at how normal Professor Higgins looks sipping a beer in Valkyrie on a Sunday morning. I mean, he’s always been a little hipper than most teachers with his social media-driven t-shirts and trendy styled hair. There’s a reason most girls in our class have a secret crush on him and why Talia calls him Professor Hottie. At least, she did before she met a certain shaggy-haired werewolf. Professor Higgins is young–thirty, maybe–and rides a motorcycle every day, no matter the weather. The only other person I’ve ever seen pull off a motorcycle in sketchy conditions is Talia, and she’s a fucking ninja warrior.

  The guy standing in front of me is the last person I’d ever have suspected of being involved in a werewolf murder plot. He’s so normal. And nice. And smart. The only teacher whose class I actually enjoyed.

  But right now, he’s a suspect, and I work to keep my feelings separate from the task at hand.

  For all I know, this guy is a killer. If Brody fooled us, maybe he’s fooling us too.

  “Hi,” I say warily. “Um, how did you know I was looking for you?”

  He taps his earlobe. “Teachers have ears everywhere.” His smile seems genuine, but I can feel Kash tense behind me.

  “This is Kash–” I begin.

  “Montgomery, yes.” Professor Higgins offers his hand in a shake. Kash takes it, but I can feel his uncertainty rolling off him in waves. “We’ve met before, though you were probably too young to remember,” Professor Higgins says. I can see my surprise mirrored in Kash’s eyes, but neither of us comments here in the open. “Please, call me Xan.” He lets go of Kash’s hand. “I’m so sorry about your dad,” he adds, his smile slipping.

  In his eyes, sympathy shines, but I can tell Kash is instantly defensive.

  “You knew him then?” Kash asks.

  Professor Higgins–Xan–glances around at the mostly empty bar. “Why don’t we move to one of the areas with a bit more privacy so we can talk?”

  Kash glances around with him, and I do the same, but the bar is mostly deserted this time of day. There’s no sign of Brody or any of his werebros. Still, we both follow Xan back to the same sitting area I last shared with Talia and Anna what feels like a lifetime ago.

  I sink down onto the leather couch beside Kash, and Xan sits next to us in the chair that Talia favors.

  “Anything to drink?” he asks.

  “We’re fine,” I say.

  “We’re here for answers,” Kash says in his best scary-guy voice.

  Xan merely nods. “I can imagine. I wish I had more of them for you.”

  Kash’s eyes narrow. “Why don’t you tell us what you do know, like how I supposedly know you?”

  “Happy to,” Xan says, undeterred by Kash’s suspicion. “Otto and I were friends for a long time,” he says, and Kash flinches at the casual way Xan says his father’s name. “I’ve spent the last couple of months digging into what might have happened to him.”

  Before I can process what he’s saying or ask one of the million questions rattling around in my head, Kash slides the slip of paper from his pocket and places it on the table between us. Xan glances down at what I know is his handwriting.

  “We know you’re the last person who saw him alive,” Kash says, and I grab his leg and squeeze in a silent request for him to take it down a notch.

  As Anna would say, I’m hoping to catch more flies with honey and all that.

  “We know you met with Kash’s father the night he died,” I explain. “We found this in Otto’s office, and I recognized your handwriting,” I say, gesturing to the paper. “What we don’t know is why you met with him that night or what you might have seen.”

  “It’s true, I did meet with Otto before he was killed,” Xan says. “I met with him several times, actually.”

  “Can you tell us what the two of you talked about? How did you know him?”

  “Otto and I go back to our college days,” Xan tells me. And then to Kash, he says, “I can see the suspicion in your eyes, and I want to make it clear that I didn’t kill him. Otto was my best friend. We met freshman year at a bonfire out near the Charles River. We hit it off, despite the lines drawn between our kinds, and spent the next four years causing trouble together until we both had to settle into our responsibilities. ”

  Kash relaxes a fraction. I’m confused about what he means about our kinds, but I let it go.

  “Do you remember what you two were talking about that night? Was there anything off about him that you remember?”

  “We were meeting up to discuss my latest findings.”

  “Findings?” I repeat.

  “Last year, I was passing through town. I stopped to grab a beer with Otto just like I always do when I’m in the area, and I noticed an increase in werewolf activity since I was last here.”

  “You were passing through and just noticed something like that?” I ask, interrupting him. This conversation is getting weirder and weirder.

  But Kash eyes him knowingly. “You’re not human.”

  Xan offers a secret smile.

  “Are you a werewolf?” I ask, lowering my voice despite the fact that we’re alone on this side of the bar.

  “No.” He shakes his head. “I’m more what you’d call pest control.”

  Kash doesn’t laugh, but there’s less murder in his eyes now, replaced with something more like intrigue.

  “Wait.” Finally, his words sink in. “You’re saying you’re a werewolf hunter?”

  “The official term is huntsman,” Kash says quietly.

  Xan nods. “That’s right.”

  “Holy Buffy,” I say, staring at Xan with wide eyes. “This world just keeps getting more and more paranormally.”

  His brows lift, and he opens his mouth, probably to correct the fact that I just said a made-up word. But my gaze swings to Kash.

  “Is there anything else you’re not telling me about? Sparkly vamps? Mermaids? Flying Spaghetti Monster?”

  Xan’s brow crinkles in confusion. “What’s a flying–”

  “It’s best not to ask,” Kash tells him, and I scowl. He grins, placing a quick kiss on my nose before answering, “No, Pepper, this is it. Werewolves, witches, and huntsmen. You’re all caught up.”

  I exhale. “Okay. Fine.” I sit back and gesture to Xan. “So you’re a huntsman. What exactly does that mean? And why didn’t Kash know about your friendship with his dad?”

  He glances at Kash, and when Kash doesn’t object, he continues.

  “As long as there have been werewolves, there have been huntsmen. Stronger, faster, and with longer lives than the average human, we are nature’s way of maintaining the balance. ”

  “This is sounding a lot like a ‘mortal enemies’ situation,” I say.

  “There is some truth to that. Our purpose is to protect humans from shifters who go rogue.” His eyes dart to Kash again, and mine follow. “We’re not technically enemies of werewolves, but most shifters are leery of our kind,” Xan says, pausing to chuckle at a memory. He shakes his head. “Otto was never concerned with the bullshit prejudices between our races, but neither of us wanted to stir the pot too much, so we kept our friendship a secret from most people over the years.”

  “How is that possible?” I ask. “If you’ve met Kash before, that means you must know his mother, Lina, right?”

  Xan nods. “Of course. I was there the night Otto and Lina met. Hell, I was his best man, and–” he pauses. A sheepish look crosses his face as he looks up at Kash. “I’m actually your godfather.”

  My mouth falls open, and my eyes dart to Kash.

  He sighs, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “My parents told me my godfather was my dad’s friend from college, but they said his name was Andrew.”

  Xan smiles and take
s another sip of his beer. “That would be me. Xan Andrew Higgins.” His eyes turn wistful. “Otto had always intended on telling you the truth before you became Alpha, but fate had other plans, it would seem.”

  Curiosity burns through me. “I still don’t understand why Otto needed to keep his friendship with you a secret. What’s so bad about a huntsman and a werewolf being friends?”

  “Werewolves are naturally leery of huntsmen. Our strength, speed, and senses make it easy for us to kill rogue wolves.”

  “Not to mention your magic blades,” Kash mutters, and my eyes widen.

  Xan chuckles. “Yes, we also have huntsmen’s blades. They bond to a huntsman’s soul, and as long as a huntsman and his blade are bonded, he does not age. We can still be killed in battle, but we’re pretty hard to kill once trained. That’s not why Otto kept our friendship a secret though. He was worried your council wouldn’t take kindly to a pack ‘teaming up’ with a huntsman.”

  Interesting.

  “What happens to a huntsman’s blade if he’s killed?” I ask.

  Xan shrugs. “The blade will seek out its new master.”

  “Are all huntsmen males?”

  “I’ve never met a female huntsman, but I suppose it’s possible,” Xan considers.

  “So you guys don’t have mates?” I ask. My heart breaks for him. Forever would be awfully lonely without someone to share it with.

  “Oh, we have mates,” Xan says, and I startle. “But when a huntsman meets his mate, he must give up his blade in order to be with her.”

  I gasp. “He becomes human?”

  Xan nods.

  “Maybe we can continue our history lesson a little later, Pepper,” Kash says, glancing at his watch. “We still have a few more questions about what you and my father were doing that night, and we need to get back soon.”

  I nod and bite my lip against all the questions still burning on my tongue.

  “What findings were you reporting to my father?” Kash asks, directing the conversation back on topic.

  Xan blows out a breath, his eyes becoming serious.

  “Werewolves in this area are born, not bitten, and they nearly all belong to your pack. Occasionally, there’s a lone wolf or two traveling through, but this area stays pretty clear since it’s so close to Somerville lands. That wasn’t the case when I showed up this time. Instead, I found an abundance of newly turned wolves. Bitten wolves. And we both know that’s not something the Somerville pack would condone. So, I went to Otto. He tried tracking them himself, but every time he got close, they vanished without a trace. He even tried going to your council.”

  Kash scowls. “Let me guess. They blew him off because he didn’t have enough evidence?”

  “Precisely. When Otto couldn’t find them on his own, he asked me to look into it, to track the new wolves back to their alpha,” he says before training his eyes on me to explain further. “A huntsman’s ability to track werewolves is unparalleled.”

  Kash and I exchange a look. Even after everything I’ve learned, it’s hard for me to wrap my brain around the fact that Professor Hottie is actually Xan-the-werewolf-huntsman.

  “What did you find?” I ask, trying to stay on topic. “When you looked into the bitten wolves, were you able to figure out who was behind it?”

  A pit forms in my stomach. I have a feeling I know where this is leading. Or to whom.

  “I didn’t find much initially, but with the werewolf population out of whack, and Otto in the dark, it was my duty as a huntsman to get to the bottom of everything. So, I took the teaching job here in order to investigate without drawing attention to myself. For months, I used all my free time to search, but it yielded nothing. Finally, Otto and I realized they must be using magic to cloak their wolf side. So, we changed tactics.”

  My mind reels at the fact that he’s been investigating for months. “Changed how?” I ask.

  “We knew there had to be magic involved, and that meant a witch was also involved. I put all of my resources into finding him or her.”

  “Did you find the witch?”

  He shakes his head, taking another sip of his beer before answering. “We got close. I found an address, but the place had been abandoned already. Nothing identifiable was left behind, nothing magical anyway. But I did find one thing. A truck. Also abandoned. Registered to one Brody Harrison.”

  “Shit,” Kash says under his breath, his voice taking on more of an animalistic sound.

  “I sent a note to Otto to meet me here so I could give him the name, but he never showed. I thought he had just gotten busy with pack business. It wasn’t until a few days later that I found out what happened to him.”

  Kash curses again, this time louder. His hands ball into fists on the table.

  “It’s Brody,” I say, a little shell-shocked. “It’s been Brody behind everything this entire time.”

  I should have known. After what he did to those girls and then experiencing his cruelty firsthand, I should have guessed. But it’s still a shock that turns quickly to rage on Kash’s behalf.

  “I’m going to find that asshole and rip him apart slowly,” Kash says.

  His voice is calm, but there’s definitely murder in his eyes. I can’t blame him. I’m feeling the same way right about now.

  “You’ll want to be careful about it,” Xan says, and even though I’m pretty sure Kash doesn’t really hear the warning, I lean in.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Brody’s working with some powerful magic,” Xan says. “Whoever’s helping him cloak his pack isn’t someone to mess with. The witch saw us coming for that house and was long gone before we got there.”

  Kash doesn’t answer. I can tell he’s already checked out of the conversation and is dreaming up all the ways he’s going to torture Brody when he finally gets his hands on him.

  “We appreciate the advice, and I promise we’ll be careful,” I say, “But we can’t let this go. Brody has a lot to answer for.”

  I hesitate, wondering how much to trust Xan, but he’s already proven he’s on our side by helping Kash’s dad.

  “Listen. You know I wasn’t in class last week,” I hedge.

  Xan nods. “Your absence did not escape my notice.”

  “I wasn’t on vacation or skipping because of some youthful indiscretion.”

  “I can see that,” he says. “Besides, I never believed you had just skipped town with your boyfriend. Not when you’re this close to graduating.”

  I startle. “Wait, what do you mean? What do you see?”

  “My eyesight is a little bit better than humans. I can see the lingering bruises you’ve covered with makeup. Care to explain further?”

  Quickly, I tell him the real reason I haven’t been in school these last couple of weeks and about the pregnant girls. The words spill out of me, but Kash doesn’t interrupt or try to stop me, so I keep going. I don’t stop until I’ve explained Brody’s plan to take over the Somerville land or Kash’s role as alpha.

  When I’m done, Xan whistles low. “That kid has some big balls if he thinks he can take on the largest pack in the northeast,” he says.

  “I look forward to shoving those balls right down his own throat,” Kash says, and I can’t help how much I enjoy the mental image.

  Kash’s phone buzzes where it sits on the table, and I look down to see Lynch’s name lighting up the screen.

  Kash snatches the phone to his ear. “What did you find?”

  I wait impatiently while Kash listens to whatever Lynch is saying.

  “Fine. Yeah… just meet us here,” Kash says after a moment.

  Then he ends the call.

  “Delta house is wiped clean. No sign of Brody or his pack,” Kash says.

  Damn.

  I’m not surprised, but I’d hoped for some kind of lead. Kash is silent, and I know he’s thinking the same thing–just with a lot more rage in his veins.

  “Look, I loved Otto like a brother,” Xan says. “He was a good man
. If there’s anything I can do, anything you need, just say the word.”

  He pulls a business card from his wallet and holds it out to Kash. Kash takes the card with a nod before sliding it into his pants pocket.

  “Thank you,” I tell him. “We really appreciate it. And thanks for talking to us today.”

  We rise from the couch as Xan downs the last of his beer before standing as well. Kash reaches out to shake Xan’s hand before turning to leave. I start to follow Kash outside, but Xan grabs my arm.

  “Hey, Romy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I know you have your hands full here, so I just have to say I’m impressed with the way your social stats have risen these last few weeks despite everything that’s happening.”

  “Um, thanks,” I say, not quite sure how we’ve circled from hunting werewolves to something as mundane as a school project.

  “Keep it up,” he says and starts to walk past me.

  “Whoa, come again? You don’t mean–”

  He turns back. “That I expect your finished report turned in on time? Of course I do,” he confirms.

  My eyes widen. “Are you serious? Xan, I can’t possibly–”

  “Professor Higgins,” he corrects, and I’m stunned into silence. His smile is crooked and a bit mischievous as he adds, “Sure there are evil werewolves to put down, but it’s the little things that make life worthwhile. Besides, it’s not like I can give you an extension because of a looming werewolf war. Everybody knows that werewolves aren’t real.” He gives me a wink before walking away.

  I stare after him, my mouth hanging open, and decide to never go drinking with a teacher again.

  Chapter 3

  When we arrive back at the pack house, the baby shower prep is in full swing. Behind us, Lynch dismounts before Talia has even come to a full stop, his inner party-planning diva coming out in all its glory.

  “Who’s responsible for that monstrosity?” he yells, gesturing wildly to the large banner being hung.

  “Your mom,” Doyle shouts back from his place on the ladder.