Breed of Envy (The Breed Chronicles, #02) (4 page)

I’m hoping, if nothing else, the pace will be slower. I did manage to pass the first Phase somehow, even with less than half the time, but it doesn’t mean I’ll pass this one.

And speaking of Greene, I need to talk to him. I want to find out if the Robert Mom mentioned in her journal is my dad or someone else. I think if anyone would know it’d be him.

Guess I’ll find out the answers to my questions soon.

Okay, Linc is pounding on the door. Gotta run.

“Just a second,” I called out, jumping up from my bed and running to hide both journals. When I was done, I swiped my hair out of my face and opened the door. Linc gave me a weird, eyebrow-raised look. “What?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Just wondering if you had your nose buried in a book.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “It’s the first day, after all. Can’t start off without being at least a few chapters ahead.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it. He already knew—or suspected—I was ahead, so there was no reason to verify his suspicions, was there? Nah. I grabbed my tablet and my ID, then pushed Linc out of the way. “Come on.”

The café court was packed, as expected. Half the crowd was especially loud and half unusually subdued, as if they weren’t awake yet. Since we’d gone almost two months without actual classes (and without having to wake up as early), my guess was on the latter.

Tasha was already sitting at a table with a tray of food, so I said good morning, set my tablet down, and moved to get in line. Linc brushed me aside. “I’m getting you something. Go sit,” he said, waving his hands at me as if to shoo me away.

“Don’t you think you should at least ask what I want?”

He didn’t roll his eyes, but I knew he wanted to. “Go away, Hall. I think I know what you like by now.”

“Oh, fine.” And I couldn’t even be mad at him over the bossiness, not when he was mostly doing it to be (annoyingly) nice. So, with a shrug (and glaring only slightly), I walked back to the table.

Tasha raised an eyebrow at me. “I haven’t said two words, so I know the glare isn’t for me.” Her gaze traveled toward Linc. “Him?”

I dropped down to the chair. “Of course. Who else?”

She picked up her fork and wagged it at me. “Figures.”

I grinned. “Yup.”

A few minutes later, Linc joined us. He had two trays in his hands and slid one in front of me as he sat down. “Extra bacon—”

“Because you like to steal it,” I murmured.

“—and waffles loaded in butter.”

I grabbed the bacon from the plate and stuffed a slice into my mouth before he could steal it. “Thanks.”

Tasha tapped her fingers on the table, let out a loud sigh. “Is it just me, or does it seem like our classes ended only yesterday?”

“It’s not just you,” I said. We looked to Linc, but he had his mouth full of waffles. He nodded. Our vacation time had flown by. Of course, since we’d still had our combat and weapons training, and our weekly appointments with Doc, we’d all pretty much kept busy the entire time and it hadn’t really been all that vacationy.

“Can’t we all call in sick?”

“Don’t even say that word,” I hissed at her. “Doc might hear you.”

Tasha snorted. “You really hate the checkups, don’t you?”

“I don’t hate the checkups. I just…like my blood more.” That was my excuse and I was sticking to it. Doc and Linc (and probably Greene) were the only ones who really knew I had a problem with the checkups, and that’s the way I wanted to keep it. “But you go ahead and get poked by her if you want.”

Tasha seemed to think about that for a minute, and then she said, “Okay, it was a bad idea. But really, having us start out with Tracking first thing in the morning? That’s just asking for trouble. And blood.”

This Phase, we had Tracking on Mondays, Combat on Tuesdays, Weapons on Wednesdays, and Demonology on Thursdays. According to our schedules, Linc and I still had our appointments with Doc on Fridays (which was fine with me—I didn’t mind putting it off until the end of the week).

Linc gave her a funny look. “You do realize all of our classes start in the morning, don’t you?”

Tasha glared. “Shut up, Linc.”

They both had points, but since Tasha was dangerous in Tracking class (and every other class, actually) no matter the time, Linc’s had more merit. Of course, being the wise girl that I was, I didn’t point out either. The last thing I wanted to do was get on both of their bad sides.

“Maybe Mrs. Fletcher will take it easy on us since it’s the first day back,” I said, then shoved another piece of bacon into my mouth. Linc’d been eyeing it for the last two minutes.

Tasha shook her head. “They’re so cute when they’re naïve and hopeful, aren’t they, Linc?”

He grinned.

I looked from one to the other. “What?”

“Mrs. Fletcher is not going to take it easy on us. She never has.” In typical Tasha fashion, she wagged her fork some more. “The only day we got a real break was the very first day we had class. We didn’t get one after Christmas break, or Spring break. I doubt we’ll get one now.”

“Oh. Well, maybe it’ll be easy stuff, then.” They both fixed me with get-real looks. “Fine. But we’ll manage.”

“You might,” Tasha said, her tone disapproving. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been looking forward to the start of classes again, you nerd.”

I could’ve argued the nerd part, but what was the point when Linc had said the same thing? But there was nothing wrong with being a nerd, dangit.

*~*~*

Linc dumped our trays after we finished our breakfast, and as we waited for the elevators to take us up to the fifth floor, I overheard other Prospects talking about trucks pulling up. I turned around and, sure enough, there were semi-trucks pulling up the driveway. A few went toward the South Tower and another two pulled up in front the North Tower. There was already a group of agents standing outside the front doors seemingly waiting for their arrival.

“Must be the new stuff,” Tasha said as the elevator signaled its arrival.

I hated that she was probably right and that my odds of getting out of my appointment with Doc until Some Other Day That Wasn’t Tomorrow was now slim to a laughable none. Since Greene wanted Doc to use the new scanner they were supposed to be delivering, I’d hoped that, if the equipment hadn’t arrived yet, Greene would reschedule it.

I snorted to myself.
No such luck.

Sighing, I stepped into the elevator behind Linc. Now I had two days to dread it. If I hadn’t seen the darn trucks, then I could have pretended there’d been some delay in the scanner arriving.

Linc bumped into my shoulder, whispered, “You okay?”

“Fine,” I muttered.

He grinned at me, like he knew exactly where my thoughts were. It was annoying because he probably did. As usual. When he started whistling under his breath, it only confirmed my suspicions. My elbow may have
accidentally
rammed into his ribcage.

He stopped whistling immediately, cleared his throat, and took a step closer to Tasha, putting him farther away from me.

“Kinda wimpy for a tough guy, Stone.” I smiled sweetly, tucked my hands into my pockets, and then started whistling.

Tasha glanced at me, then Linc. “Did I miss something?”

I shook my head and kept whistling, though out of the corner of my eye I saw her give Linc a what’d-I-miss look.

When the doors opened on the fifth floor, I stepped out and then stopped as a group of four girls walked by. They slowed long enough for three of them to shoot me dirty looks. The fourth looked at me with a mixture of pity and fear.

Linc walked up beside me and I glanced at him. “Was it something I said?” I asked once they were out of hearing range. “Something I didn’t say?”

“Felecia’s old gang,” Tasha said. “They’re P3s.”

“Ah.”

“I know three of them,” Tasha explained. “Rachel, Kristina, and Leslie. No idea about the fourth chick, though.”

“She’s a P1,” I said. “She was at my Orientation. I just know her last name is Marshall.”

“I don’t know why she’s with them, then. Rachel and her friends don’t usually hang out with lowly–” She rolled her eyes. “—P1s or P2s.” She shrugged and shot me a look that might’ve held pity. “I can’t say they’re worse than Felecia, but they’re trying to be.”

I let out a breath. “Perfect.”

“C’mon.” Linc grabbed my arm and pulled me toward Tracking. “Ignore them.”

Casting a grim look over my shoulder, I nodded and said, “Gladly.”

*~*~*

Tracking went better than expected (at least to me—Tasha was another story entirely). Mrs. Fletcher gave us our new tablets as we came in and put our old ones in a box by the door. The first hour of class was spent with us doing a big overview of what we’d learned last Phase, and then the rest of the time, we were in the bigger classroom for the drama-like portion, practicing different scenarios.

Linc ended up with two fresh bruises, thanks to Tasha. According to him, that was better than the start of the last Phase, so he was okay with it and just shrugged it off. He was used to Tasha’s abuse. I wasn’t. She’d ended up hitting me in the back with a staff, then my arm seconds later. I spent the rest of the class not speaking to her. Not because I was mad at her (much), but like last Phase, when she’d accidentally hit Linc in the face with a staff, whenever I opened my mouth or looked at her, it just set off fits of giggles, so Mrs. Fletcher pleaded with me to ‘just stop talking’ while trying not to laugh herself.

So all in all, it went pretty well. Our homework wasn’t even that bad. We just had to read two chapters in our text, which we’d have to do for Demonology anyway (at least according to Mrs. Fletcher), so it was basically a two-for-one assignment.

The following morning, Linc and I met up with Tasha outside the Combat classroom. As we walked in, we found Mr. Connor setting up the CMs (combat manikin) along one of the walls.

The room had the same sweaty scent it always had, even though it looked like the walls had been recently painted. Last Phase, they’d been white, but now they were dark gray in color. That wasn’t the only change, though. Now there was some kind of thick, black padding that went halfway up the walls.

Linc noticed it too and nodded in approval. “This is the room we need to be in with
her
around,” he said, shooting Tasha a dark look. “At least if there’s padding, you can’t get hurt as much.” When Tasha, who didn’t look abashed at all, smiled, Linc shook his head. “Then again, it’s Tasha…”

A tall, lanky guy with dark brown hair was the last to arrive. He had a mean look in his eyes and seemed bored already. I frowned and then tapped Linc on the arm to get his attention. “Isn’t that the guy you told me about before? Brian?” Linc had introduced me to a lot of people last Phase, or at least pointed some out, and Brian had been one of them. I remembered him, particularly because he had my brother’s name, so it was kind of hard to forget.

“Yeah.”

“You said he was a P2 last Phase, so what’s he doing here?”

Linc shrugged. “No idea. Greene had him studying by himself, and everyone just said he was a P2. I didn’t know he wasn’t.”

I’d only ever seen him a few times last Phase, and I’d never spoken to him. He didn’t seem...friendly. He hadn’t ever said anything one way or another, but he had this don’t-talk-to-me look that didn’t exactly invite conversation.

I tore my gaze from him when Mr. Connor walked to the middle of the room. “Now that everyone is here,” Mr. Connor started, “I’m going to split you all up into pairs.”

Linc ended up with Tasha. I would have sneered at him (because he was always leery of being paired up with her), but I was too busy frowning when Mr. Connor paired me with Brian.
That’s what curiosity gets you.

After he was done pairing up the class, Mr. Connor said, “Linc, Tasha? Can I borrow you two?”

Linc and Tasha met him in the middle of the room. Both of them looked worried. Linc was probably afraid of getting hurt, and Tasha was probably afraid of hurting him. Mr. Connor talked them through some new holds and blocks, and combined it with some moves we’d learned last Phase. When he finished, he had them practice the routine again, this time at a quicker pace.

They’d barely made it halfway through before Tasha punched Linc in the thigh (narrowly avoiding his groin), hit his nose, and smashed at least two of his fingers.

I winced. Make that two fingers on each hand.

Tasha dropped her hands to her side. “Someone take his place before I send him to the infirmary, please.”

Mr. Connor faced the class. “Anyone?”

No one moved or said anything, but I could see please-not-me looks on almost every face. Linc, who was busy trying to decide which hand to cradle, kept his eyes narrowed on Tasha.

“No one’s brave enough to be her partner?”

“I’m brave enough. Maybe.”

I turned to see who had spoken and grinned. It was Chris. He was either really crazy or really brave.

Then again, seeing the look he was giving Tasha, maybe he just liked her. Interesting, I thought with a smile. I changed my mind—he was crazy, brave,
and
he liked her.

Mr. Connor lowered his head. “Thank you, Mr. Stevens. Extra credit if you manage to stay her partner the entire Phase.”

As Linc (still glaring) and Chris switched partners, I wandered over to Brian since he didn’t seem to be making the effort to come to me. “Hi,” I said.

He had his back to me, but he slowly turned around and gave a nod. Silently, I wondered why so many people here used nods to communicate.

“So… Do you want to be the attackee or the attacker?”

He shrugged. “Whichever.”

This was going to be a fun class. “Well, you’re probably better than me, so it might be safer if I’m playing attacker. You can probably avoid me better,” I said with a laugh, trying to get him to give me more than a one-word, one-movement answer.

Another shrug. “Okay.”

We were in Combat class, so hitting him
was
, technically, allowed. Or at least trying to hit someone was allowed. We were actually supposed to avoid being hit, but still. I wanted to hit him for a whole different reason, one I was pretty sure wasn’t acceptable.