by Cheree Alsop
Alex grimaced at the sensation of blood dripping down his back. “Why would I need anyone else here with me?”
“You don’t expect me to believe that you left Cassie at the Academy without protection, do you?” Drogan replied.
“Who says it’s unprotected,” Alex shot back. “Jaze and the others will defend her with their lives.”
Drogan nodded. “If you believe in my nephew so much, why isn’t he here to fight beside you?”
“Because I wanted to kill you myself,” Alex replied in a growl.
Drogan’s eyebrows rose. “So Jaze has no idea you’re here?” He laughed at the thought. “Well that’s rich. How’s Cassie going to feel when I ship your dead body to the Academy doorstep?”
Alex’s heart clenched. He replied through gritted teeth, “Leave Cassie out of it. This is between you and me.”
Drogan lunged with the knife. Alex spun to the right, punched Drogan in the shoulder as he passed, then jumped on him. They slammed into a couch and rolled over the back. Pain sliced along Alex’s side. He let out a cry and pushed back to his feet. The knife Drogan held glittered darkly with blood.
“I’m happy to kill you first,” Drogan said. “Then I’ll go for Cassie. I’ll know when she’s unprotected.”
Alex knew he had to stall as long as he could to give Jaze the best chance of rescuing Pip’s family. He clutched his side in an effort to slow the flow of blood. “I know you have a vendetta against Jet, but why try so hard to kill us? We’re just kids.”
Drogan’s mismatched eyes darkened. “I have my reasons.”
He made a swipe for Alex’s chest. Alex ducked under the knife and spun, sweeping Drogan’s legs out from under him. The man hit the floor and rolled to avoid Alex’s punch. His fist hit the floorboards so hard they splintered. Drogan jumped back to his feet and kicked Alex in the stomach. Alex rolled with the blow and reached his feet in time to jump back as Drogan slice at his chest.
“What do they teach you at that academy?” Drogan demanded.
Alex gave a humorless smile. “How to avoid being murdered by low-minded beasts intent on killing children.”
Drogan gave a growl of disgust. “I’m the beast?” he asked. He fainted once with the knife, dodged to the right when Alex blocked it, and landed a sharp kick to Alex’s thigh where he had been shot.
“You’re the one who killed my parents,” Alex shouted. He slammed a fist into Drogan’s chest hard enough to propel the man against the fireplace. “You killed Jet.” His second punch landed on Drogan’s stomach. Though it was protected by Kevlar, the man let out a gasp of pain. “And you took away everything that was good in my life,” Alex concluded. He grabbed Drogan by the shoulders and spun to the right, using his strength to throw the man across the room.
Drogan was up faster than Alex expected. He threw a lamp, and when the Gray knocked the lamp away, he threw the knife by its point so hard that when it struck Alex’s left shoulder, it knocked him back a few steps. Adrenaline rushed through Alex, numbing the pain and sharpening his senses. His left arm refused to respond. He ripped a drawer from the dressers with his right hand and threw it at the man.
Drogan blocked it with a forearm. Alex used Drogan’s own tactic and followed the drawer, bowling the man to the ground. He punched Drogan twice in the face and was about to land a third when his heart stuttered. He paused, fighting the strength that fled from his body.
Drogan took advantage of the weakness and threw him into a wall. Alex slid to a sitting position. He blocked a punch. His heart stuttered again as he tried to block a kick. Drogan slammed a fist through Alex’s guard, connecting with the knife that stuck out of the werewolf’s shoulder. Alex let out a cry of pain as the blade was forced deeper.
The need to phase surged through his skin. He had to defend himself. Phasing would send the silver shards from the knife deeper into his body. If they reached his bloodstream, he knew they could reach his heart.
“Not so tough, huh?” Drogan said. He tore the knife out of Alex’s shoulder.
Alex managed to grab his hand before Drogan drove the blade into his throat. They struggled, Drogan pushing the knife down with all of his strength, and Alex fighting to hold it back as it wavered inches from his skin. His left arm shook and he fought to keep it firm despite the blood he felt pooling down his chest.
“Give up,” Drogan said.
“Never,” Alex growled. But he didn’t know how much longer he could fight. If he phased, Drogan would slip the knife in before he was in wolf form.
He had to get back to Cassie. His heart stuttered again.
Drogan smiled as he felt Alex’s grip weaken. Alex knew he had lost as the man with the mismatched eyes shoved the blade down. Alex closed his eyes so Drogan’s face wouldn’t be the last thing in his mind.
A crash sounded on the porch. Two yells followed and were quickly silenced.
Drogan looked at the door. Alex took advantage of the distraction and kicked, shoving Drogan back against the couch. Alex rolled to his feet and staggered to the wall. The door crashed open. The sight of the fierce, protective rage on Jaze’s face filled Alex with relief.
The Alpha attacked Drogan before the man could move. Within seconds, Drogan was pinned to the floor with the silver knife held to his throat.
“You’re finished, Drogan,” Jaze growled in a voice that sent a shiver down Alex’s spine.
“I have your boy Pip’s parents,” Drogan replied with a note of triumph. “If you kill me, they’re dead.”
“They’re already safe,” Jaze told him.
Drogan’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re lying.”
Jaze glared down at the man. “Next time, don’t try to reiterate your threats by forcing the boy to visit his parents over Christmas. Werewolves tend to remember where they’ve been.”
Happiness spread through Alex at the thought of Pip’s family safe again. His knees wanted to give out. He leaned heavily against the wall, willing them to hold. The silver in the wounds was preventing them from clotting and healing as a werewolf’s should. He had already lost a lot of blood.
“Stay with me, Alex,” Jaze said, glancing at him.
“I’m alright,” Alex replied, forcing himself to stand up straight.
Jaze gave a nod of approval and turned his attention back to Drogan. “With your help, we’ll take out the General’s bases one by one. Your father won’t have any legs to stand on.”
“I won’t help you,” Drogan snarled.
“Oh, you will,” Jaze said. He pulled Drogan to his feet and shoved him toward the door. The man was no match for the Alpha’s strength. “Vance, where’s the chains?”
“Got ‘em,” Alex heard the huge Alpha respond beyond the door. The sound of chain links clinking together followed.
Jaze stepped back inside. He crossed to Alex and ducked under his arm. “Let’s get you outside,” he said in a voice much softer than he had used with Drogan.
Alex allowed himself to be helped out of the small cabin. He squinted at the sudden brightness of daylight on the snow. Somehow during their battle, he had forgotten the sun still shone. Now, it bathed his shoulders, reminding him that he had survived. He closed his eyes and absorbed the sensation of warmth amidst the white-washed world.
Voices made him open his eyes. He smiled at the sight of the professors who surrounded the tiny cabin.
“I told you we should have taken the helicopter to the Academy,” Mouse said, adjusting his glasses as he gave Drogan a disapproving look.
“Where would we have put it?” Kaynan replied. His red eyes looked unsettlingly intense. “Do you have a helicopter hiding place we’re unaware of?”
The shrug and smile that was Mouse’s reply let Alex know that the professor did indeed have secrets.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“How are you holding up?” Jaze asked, his tone concerned.
“Fairly good,” Alex replied. He pushed away from the wall of the cabin he had been leaning against
, then stumbled.
Jaze caught him. “Mouse, Alex needs you,” Jaze called over his shoulder.
Mouse hurried over. “If you choose going after the number two man on the werewolf most wanted list instead of attending Biology, I would recommend Biology,” the professor said, checking Alex over. His hands came away bloody. “Take off your shirt,” he directed.
Alex gingerly pulled the wolf sweatshirt over his head. His thoughts were foggy, and he found it hard to focus on the werewolves who checked his wounds.
“They’re filled with silver shards. They won’t clot until we get them out,” Mouse said, his words tight.
“Can you do that here?” Jaze pressed.
Mouse shook his head. “The shoulder wound is too deep; I need better equipment. We need to get him back to the Academy.”
Jaze’s face loomed into view. Alex tried to focus. “Do you think you can make it to the Academy?” he asked as Mouse wrapped bandages over the wounds from the backpack he carried. “Vance wouldn’t mind carrying you.”
Alex shook his head, forcing his mind to clear at the thought of being carried again by the huge professor. “I’ll walk.”
Vance chuckled behind them. “I don’t mind. You’re like carrying a twig.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Coach. I think I’ll walk.”
“It’s your funeral,” Vance replied.
“Really?” Kaynan responded. “That’s what you choose to say? The kid’s bleeding and you say it’s his funeral?”
“What?” Vance argued. “It’s a figure of speech.”
“An idiom,” Mouse said.
“What did you call him?” Kaynan asked with a laugh.
Vance rolled his eyes and indicated Drogan. “Let’s get this garbage back before his men start to wonder at their radio silence.”
“I’m hoping they’re a bit preoccupied with the destruction Chet and Dray brought on their base. Brock said they were thorough,” Jaze replied, shoving Drogan forward. The chains around the human’s arms and legs rattled.
Vance gave a snort that took the place of a laugh. “When Brock says thorough, it’s like him describing the way he devours a donut. There’s nothing left.”
“Did you hear that?” Jaze asked, focusing on Drogan. “Nothing left. How will your dad feel about that?”
Drogan glared at the werewolf. “He’ll kill you.”
“He’s already tried and failed,” Jaze replied. “Now it’s my turn. Let’s get moving.” He pushed Drogan again. “Walk.”
Alex saw the still forms of Drogan’s men beneath the trees. Jaze’s attack had been deadly and stealthy until he reached the cabin. Alex wondered if Jaze had known he had been in danger, which was why the last two men had fallen so noisily.
He had to force himself to put one foot in front of the other as he followed Jaze and Drogan. Kaynan scouted ahead while Mouse and Vance protected the rear. If there was to be an attack, the werewolves hoped to have the advantage beneath the trees.
Alex’s wounds throbbed with each step. He shoulder hurt the worst, while the slice down his back and the shallow one across his side burned, especially when sweat brought on by the silver broke out over his body. He shivered despite the fact that werewolves seldom got cold.
“You alright?”
Alex glanced up to see Jaze walking beside him. Vance had taken the dean’s place holding Drogan’s chains. The man would be stupid to try anything with the hulking werewolf at his side.
“Just ready to be back at the Academy,” Alex replied. His teeth chattered.
Jaze shrugged out of his jacket and put it over Alex’s shoulders before the young werewolf could deny the help.
“Take it,” Jaze said, reading his expression. “I don’t know why I brought one and it saves me from having to carry it.”
Alex slipped his arms into the sleeves and zipped it up, grateful for the warmth. “Thanks.”
“We need to talk about why you went to the cabin by yourself,” Jaze said. “But that’s a discussion for a later date. For now, concentrate on making it back to the Academy. Nikki and Lyra were on standby when we left.”
“Pip’s family is really safe?” Alex asked quietly so Drogan wouldn’t overhear.
Jaze nodded. “As soon as Pip told me what happened, I sent Chet and Dray out to the location he described. I imagine they’ll have quite the family reunion tonight.”
“I’m glad,” Alex said.
Jaze glanced at him. “Me, too.”
Snow crunched beneath their shoes. It was much harder to walk silently in human form, especially when the snow was thick enough to walk across with paws, but shoes broke right through. They followed the same trail Alex had run earlier. Three sets of tracks lay on top of the one, showing that the professors had used the same trail to reach the cabin.
As the silver wreaked havoc on Alex’s body, his found his ability to do more than walk hampered. He stumbled and Jaze righted him. At the werewolf’s question, he shook his head though he was only vaguely aware of what the dean had asked. The minutes dragged on until he felt like they had been walking through the snow for hours and days. As the daylight faded and darkness stole through the trees, he began to believe they would never reach the walls and halls he thought of as home.
***
“Look,” Jaze said.
It was the first word Alex recognized after what felt like hours in a foggy haze. He lifted his head and saw the Academy spires just visible through the darkness. Hope filled his chest. He was almost there.
The pounding sound of a helicopter cutting through the air reached them.
“Can we make it?” Kaynan asked, falling back to join the group.
Mouse shook his head. “It’s too far.”
“You’ve lost,” Drogan said with a humorless smile. “Give up.”
“Pull together. Guard the prisoner and Alex. We can take them,” Jaze replied, his tone confident.
The pounding grew nearer. They couldn’t see where it hovered, but a few seconds later, men appeared between the trees armed to the teeth with guns and ammo. Their black outfits shone dully in the sunlight, letting Alex know they were made of the same Kevlar Drogan wore.
Alex’s heart fell. “They’re bulletproof,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Kaynan replied over his shoulder. “We’re not exactly helpless.” He pulled the wristband from his wrist and snapped it open. The blade caught the afternoon sunlight.
“A knife?” Drogan asked with humor in his tone. “That’s supposed to save you?”
Kaynan grinned at him. “In a manner of speaking, yes.” He pushed something black on the top of the knife. A little blue light began to flash.
“Let Drogan go,” one of the men surrounding them called out.
No one in Jaze’s group spoke. There was a tense silence as each waited for the other to act. Jaze’s head tipped slightly to the side and a smile spread across his face. “It’s here,” he said.
Bullets tore through the air. The men around them scattered and shot back at the drone that hovered above the trees. It looked like the werewolves were winning until the sound of a louder gun began to pulse. The drone was hit twice. It spun in a half-circle, hovered for a moment, then exploded.
“Run!” Kaynan yelled.
Gunfire peppered through the trees. Jaze ducked under Alex’s arm and the dean practically carried him away from the men who swarmed forward. Bullets hit the bark around them, chipping away pieces that stung the werewolves’ arms and faces. Alex glanced back in time to see Drogan trip Vance. They rolled against a large boulder. The silver knife flashed in the moonlight.
Alex put his hands to his mouth and howled. Before his voice even died away, answering howls echoed through the forest as though the werewolves had been waiting for his signal. Shadows began to appear, gray and black forms that blurred past them, intent on the strangers that attacked in their forest. The students were fast, darting between the trees and taking down the men.
“Y
ou good?” Jaze asked.
At Alex’s nod, the Alpha tore off his shirt and leaped, phasing to the form of the black wolf before his paws touched the ground. He loped through the forest in pursuit of the attackers.
Alex leaned against a tree with his hands on his knees, fighting to keep standing as he searched through the trees. Drogan was nowhere to be seen. Screams of the men being pursued by the werewolves reached Alex’s ears. He wanted to be there with the rest of the students, to drive away the men who dared to attack. Instincts demanded that he keep those who looked to him for protection safe from men like Drogan. He didn’t want to fail them, but he couldn’t focus through the pain enough to put one foot in front of the other, let alone phase and attack with the rest.
The sound of a wolf’s quiet huff made him glance over his shoulder. The sight of Cassie in her wolf form made him want to cry. Until that moment, he hadn’t been certain he would ever see her again. He dropped to his knees. She ran to him, butting her head softly against his chest. He hugged her, entwining his fingers in her soft cream-colored fur.
“I tried to stop him,” he said. Tears broke free. “I wanted to avenge Mom and Dad. I wanted him to pay for what he did to Jet.” The tears were lost in Cassie’s fur. She gave a quiet whine. “But I didn’t want to leave you,” he concluded. He sat back on his heels, but the pressure was too much on the wound across his side. He sat down in the snow.
Cassie gave a worried whine at the smell of blood.
“I’m okay,” Alex reassured her. “It’s just a bit of silver. Nikki and Lyra will get it out.” His tongue felt thick. He wanted to talk to her more, to promise her that he would never leave again, that they would be safe and he would make sure no one could ever hurt her, but his mouth wouldn’t obey. He had to content himself with listening to the helicopter as it pulled away.
He wondered how many men had survived. He hoped Jaze would come back with the news that Drogan was among the casualties, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t true. After all the man had done to him, and all Drogan had taken from him, he knew Drogan wasn’t gone. The fist around his heart was still strong. He had to live to fight again.
