Ashes of night, p.11
Ashes of Night, page 11
part #5 of Haunted High Series Series
“When do we start?” Rhett asked.
The expectancy in the air was charged with excitement. I decided to take advantage of that. “As soon as this cafeteria is spotless to Mr. Handsworth’s standards.” I glanced at the cook and he gave me a nod of approval. “We’ll begin training tonight. Werewolves to the forest with me. The rest of you will find your respective tutors from my team and join them where they request. But for now, get to work!” Laughter followed my barked command and the students quickly took the towels Mr. Handsworth gave out and began to clean.
“We’re starting their training tonight?” Lorne said in surprise. “What are we supposed to do?”
“Vampire things,” I replied. “Fighting, arguing, drinking blood, strangling people you don’t want to talk to.”
My attempt at a joke fell flat.
Lorne and Jean exchanged glances. “Vicken was our leader. We don’t know what we’re doing. We’re not exactly teachers here.”
Lyris and Dara both nodded.
“I hate other people, you know that,” Dara said.
“Yeah, Finn,” Lyris agreed. “We’re winging it.”
I motioned for my group to move away from the cafeteria door even though the chaos of cleaning beyond ensured that nobody could overhear us. When we were out of sight from the other students, I leaned against the wall.
“I’m winging it, too,” I admitted. “I don’t know how to be a leader.”
“Right,” Brack said. He was as solemn as I had ever seen him. “Alphas are born knowing how to lead.”
I stared at him. “You’re kidding right?” I looked at each of them. “Do you know how many mistakes I’ve made? I’ve nearly gotten you guys killed way too many times!”
Alden grinned. “Well, that’s true.”
I shook my head. “I’m worse at this than any of you.” I met Dara’s gaze. “I run toward trouble. Vicken’s always getting mad at me for it. You know that.”
“But you’re brave,” Lyris said.
“Or stupid,” I reminded her.
“Finn,” Dara began.
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I not saying this to be hard on myself. Trust me. I deserve that. But what I’m saying is that no one is born a leader, at least as far as I know. Even Professor Briggs became a teacher out of circumstance. He wasn’t any more ready than we are. Yet look what we’ve learned!”
“To fear him?” Alden put in helpfully.
I chuckled, thinking that Briggs would like that response. “Yes, and to listen to him. He needs us to respect him in order for us to learn from him.”
“How are we supposed to get other students to respect us?” Alden asked. He shoved his white hair out of his eyes. “I can’t even get them to pass me the ketchup at lunch.”
I smiled at the thought that he was joking, but the seriousness in his light blue eyes made my smile disappear.
“You’re right,” I realized aloud. “There’s only one way to get them to respect any of us. We can tell them stories, but there’s no reason for them to believe any of it unless we show them.”
“What are you thinking?” Dara asked warily.
I shrugged. “If we want to teach them how to fight demons, we need to show them we know what we’re talking about.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Lyris said.
Lark’s eyes lit up. “I know where some demons are!”
I nodded. “Me, too. Think Headmistress Wrengold will approve a fieldtrip?”
The answer was no, of course. There was no way we could get hundreds of monster students to the worst part of the city.
“There’s demons closer to the school,” Alden said in a voice that told of how much he hated the idea of returning to the demon world beneath the cemetery.
“But how do we get in without Mezania?” Dara asked.
“We don’t,” I replied. “There’s too many demons down there. We don’t want to endanger students needlessly.”
Silence fell over the corridor. I couldn’t blame my team for their reluctance in training students who might not respect what they had been through. There had to be some way to let the students see that we knew what we were doing without putting anyone in danger. I, for one, wanted to avoid as many encounters with demons as possible, but that went against what my team needed.
“What if you show them?” Dara said.
Her suggestion took me by surprise. “You mean memories?” I asked.
She nodded. “Like you did when you were trying to get Professor Briggs and the others not to kill Conrad. Show the students how we fought the demons, the Wiccan Enforcer, the Demon Knight, and the Darkest Warlock. They’ll have to believe us then.”
“It won’t be just stories,” Alden said excitedly.
“I don’t know if I can push that hard,” I admitted. I looked at Dara. “Even with your help, sharing memories with the professors was difficult. How do we show all the students?”
“You do it with our help.”
I turned to see Rhett watching us from the doorway to the cafeteria. The other werewolves crowded behind him.
“We know we made a mess,” Rhett apologized. “Maybe we can help make up for it.”
“How would you help me share a memory with everyone?” I asked in confusion.
Rhett grinned. “You really aren’t good at being a werewolf, are you?”
I laughed. “Not at all. Maybe I needed to spend more time at the Den.”
“Definitely not,” Rhett replied, his dark eyes glittering. “You got us away from there just in time.” He crossed to me; the other werewolves followed. Other monster students began filing out of the cafeteria. Scents of cleaners, lemon, and a lingering hint of spaghetti colored the air.
“There’s just one question,” Rhett said.
“What’s that?” I asked warily.
“Can an old Alpha learn new tricks?”
I grinned. “I’m not that old.”
He held out his hand so that it hovered just in front of mine. “This is a trick werewolves learn by the time we’re toddlers. It’s how we have conversations without our parents being involved.” His eyes held sorrow at the loss of his father. “I guess you could say it was our own way of rebelling, only we didn’t know it at the time. Now push something at me.”
I sent him the memory of us fighting the Demon Knight in the basement. Details like jumping through demon fire, using Mercer’s imitation flames to protect my team, and borrowing Dara’s strength to grip the key on the Demon Knight’s chest came back full force. I was there again, forcing my mind to remain calm while Lyris and Brack chanted, willing my grasp on the key to be sure despite the pain of the fire, and taking a chance to protect the students who didn’t know of the doom beneath the school.
When I pulled away, my fingers shook from the force of the memory. I leaned against the wall with my gaze on Rhett.
“That looked like a rough night,” he commented, his eyes wide.
I forced a smile. “It gets better.”
“I can hardly wait,” he replied wryly.
He turned to the next werewolf, a girl named Star who had already made several friends among the monsters.
“I’m going to share with Star and as many students as I can push to,” Rhett told me. “Then she’ll share with another werewolf who will do the same. We can easily reach everyone in here.”
“I can give you strength to reach more,” Dara offered.
Rhett shook his head. “Given the memory your boyfriend just showed me, you deserve a break. He wouldn’t be here without you, and we wouldn’t be here without him. We owe you.”
Dara shot me an embarrassed smile as Rhett turned to the other students.
“Close your eyes,” he told them. “Clear your minds. I’m going to show you how our Alpha saved your lives.”
Chapter Ten
By the time Rhett and the other werewolves finished sharing the memories of my team defeating each of Chutka’s subordinates, along with our run to Lark’s basement to trap demons, and the vanquishing of the Darkest Warlock at the Maes headquarters, I felt exhausted. I couldn’t avoid the looks of awe mixed with horror on the faces of the students who looked at me. Even my own team had amazed expressions.
“I told you about the Darkest Warlock,” I said to Alden in an effort to wipe the hero-worshipping look from his eyes.
“I know,” he replied breathlessly, “But it’s not the same as seeing it! You should tell us all of your stories that way!”
I glanced at the other students, then looked away from their stunned expressions and said quietly, “I don’t think so. I think showing them was a bad idea.”
“Why?” Alden replied. “You didn’t expose them to danger, and now they have to believe what you guys have been through. It was a great idea!”
I glanced at Dara. The hint of a smile ghosted around her lips as if she found humor in the new adoration I was receiving.
“Stop laughing,” I told her.
“I’m not,” she replied as her mouth split into a grin. “I’m admiring your bravery.”
I fought back a growl of frustration and faced the students. “Let’s call it a night.”
“Now?” a vampire called out. “But after seeing all of that, I’m ready to learn how to fight demons!”
“Yeah,” Adalia from Mrs. Mellon’s class said. “You guys defended us. It’s our turn. We’re not going to cry in a corner while some demon lord tries to take over our school.”
“Demon Prince,” Dara corrected.
“And he’s trying to take over the world, not just Haunted High,” Lark put in helpfully.
“All the more reason to start training,” Rhett concluded. “We’re with you.”
I couldn’t deny the excitement in the gazes around me. My team had asked for me to help them gain the students’ trust. With the expressions on the faces that looked up to us, the team would have no problem getting the monsters to follow what they said.
“Fine,” I gave in. “Let the training begin.”
A cheer went up from the students. My team began to divide the monsters into groups the way we had decided.
I caught a glimpse of Professor Briggs standing near the unicorn photograph that hid the entrance to the basement and walked over to him.
“I, uh, meant to give them a pep talk in the cafeteria, and it sort of got out of hand,” I said.
The professor nodded. “I noticed.” He glanced at me. “And I saw the memories.”
I lowered my gaze. “I didn’t mean for you to.”
Professor Briggs watched the students for a moment before he said, “You’ve been through a lot, Finn.”
“We all have,” I replied quietly with my gaze on my team. “I couldn’t have done it without them.”
I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye.
He turned to me. “You’re going to make a fine professor someday, Finn.”
I stared at him, then realized he was holding out his hand. I shook it. “Thank you, Professor Briggs.”
He smiled. “I’ll be happy to teach beside you.”
I grinned. “Think I have a shot of making them scared of me the way they are of you so they stop looking at me like that?”
He actually laughed. “Not a chance.”
I sighed and began to walk back to the werewolves who waited for me.
“Oh, and Finn?” Briggs called out.
I glanced back at him.
He tossed something at me. “This should help!”
I caught the object out of the air, then opened my hand to see a moonstone resting on my palm.
I glared at the professor. He had an actual grin on his face.
“I hate you!” I managed to get out before the phase took over.
My shirt ripped. I made a mental note to tell Briggs he owed me for that one. Luckily, we were in the Academy so I would be able to find my shoes again. With as many shoes as I had lost phasing, I was going to be barefoot before my first year at Haunted High was over.
When I was done phasing, Professor Briggs walked over with a jovial expression and scooped up the moonstone into an ironwood box. I growled at him.
He chuckled. “No hard feelings, Finn, but that’s for bringing your uncle back. I know we need his help defeating Chutka and I’ll be civil.” He winked. “Now.”
He pocketed the stone and walked away, leaving the werewolves caught between staring at our little exchange and pretending they didn’t notice it.
Rhett cleared his throat. “Well, you see our Alpha. Phase, boys and girls!”
I didn’t exactly plan on the corridor being filled with twenty-five werewolves, but it happened. It felt like so much more than just the students who had been milling around. At least I had to give the werewolves credit. They were quiet and controlled as they waited for my orders. The problem was that I didn’t know how to give them.
I knew I could push what I wanted done and compel them to follow, but that didn’t feel right. Instead, I made my way down the hallway of doors and left them to follow. My fear that the door to the forest would be locked didn’t come true. When I approached, the door swung open as if of its own accord.
I was used to such things happening at the Academy, but this time it seemed like too much of a coincidence. I stopped and stared at the door for several long seconds. Things at Haunted High happened in a way that made the school live up to its student-given name. I had taken it for granted on several instances, like the front door opening, as well as the front gate, and the fact that the door to the forest was usually open when I needed it to be. But it suddenly bothered me. Why was it open? Who opened it? Was someone watching me? If so, why didn’t I smell them or see them?
With the number of werewolves behind me and the forest beckoning me into the snow with its tantalizing, crisp scent, I pushed my troubled thoughts to the back of my mind. But I vowed to revisit them when I was in human form and such reasoning was easier. There had to be a source behind the assistance I received; I just needed to find out what it was.
When I stepped into the snow, all thoughts of haunted schools, demons, or moonstones left me. Instead came the excited barks and howls of the wolves at my back. I glanced behind me and couldn’t help the wolfish grin that spread across my face.
The wolves acted like puppies experiencing their first snow. They snapped at snow mounds, rolled in the fluffy white stuff, and bit at branches that then made the snow tumble off onto their friends. The sight of even the older wolves letting go of their inhibitions to enjoy just being an animal for the moment filled me with joy. Given the way of life I had seen at the Den, I doubted any of them had ever felt so carefree. No matter what, if I failed at everything else, I had given twenty-four werewolves the opportunity to feel happiness and freedom. That was worth celebrating.
I took off through the snow. At a single yip from me, every wolf followed close behind. I ran for the joy of it and to see what the werewolves would do in a wild setting. As I watched, they instinctively branched off in groups of five or six, choosing the weakest to set their pace while the strongest followed at the back to ensure nobody was left behind. It was interesting to watch the pack dynamics. The older wolves watched over the younger ones and helped them navigate the bigger windfalls or streams we crossed.
I chose specific obstacles to see what they would do. Usually, the younger werewolves would watch the way I did it and then attempt to follow. This happened with climbing snow-covered boulders or traveling down ravines. If the younger wolves couldn’t make it, the older ones found a safer way around. When we all met up on the other side of the obstacle, every wolf appeared pleased to be a part of the pack.
I began to experiment with compelling the wolves to go where I wanted them. At one point, with a single push of an idea, I ran down the middle of a ravine and directed two groups of five to run on either side at the top. The other wolves followed me to the bottom. With my ears, I kept track of the wolves running above. When the ravine ended and the wolves with me took the trail to the top, we met up with the others who appeared thrilled at following my command.
I chose harder and harder obstacles. At one point, I even sent the werewolves an image of a werewolf in a tree. It was hilarious to see several of the older ones try. The younger werewolves sat around me barking and encouraging their packmates. Snorts of laughter and poofs of snow heralded failed attempts. After the last werewolf fell from the skinny branches, they all turned to me with eager expressions.
The realization of what they expected came with the understanding that a leader should never ask those who follow him or her to do something that the leader wouldn’t do. Grinning at my own foolish suggestion, I stood at the base of the tree and studied the branches. It wasn’t that they were high up. A good leap would land me on several limbs thicker than my forearm. It was the concept of landing with four feet instead of two and balancing that way.
I had gotten myself into the situation by throwing out what appeared to be an impossible command. It was my turn to try it.
Gathering my paws beneath me, I leaped into the branches. A mad scramble ensued in which I desperately attempted to place all four feet on separate branches. I failed miserably and ended up falling into the snow. The werewolves massed around me with good-natured snorts and huffs of laughter that I returned. I had learned my lesson.
Conscious of the late hour and the fact that the werewolves would all be sleeping in new rooms that night, I turned us back toward the Academy. A single thought from me was enough to disband the control and set the young wolves running after the older ones. Quick games of tag, steal the stick, and other not-so-very leader-like competitions ensued in which I was usually the instigator.
I blamed it on the fact that I had never actually played like a wolf and had apparently missed a very enjoyable part of a werewolf’s childhood. I had no problem making up for lost time when it meant solidifying friendships among the wolves and increasing their trust in the strange werewolf who had so drastically altered their entire lives.
A stray scent was enough for me to bark out a command that brought every werewolf back to formation. This time, instead of branching off into separate packs with the weaker members in front, I compelled them fall in behind me. It took only a thought for them to group the younger werewolves in the middle and send the strong wolves to either side and the back. When everyone was set, I advanced forward a step at a time.
