Breed of Havoc (The Breed Chronicles #3) (5 page)

BOOK: Breed of Havoc (The Breed Chronicles #3)
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I didn’t say anything, because Peter was right: Me, Linc, Tasha, and Chris worked well together because we liked and trusted each other. I’d do anything I could to keep them safe, to make sure they were okay, and I was pretty sure they’d do the same for me. But outside my small circle of friends, I wasn’t sure about anyone would.

In fact, I was pretty sure they wouldn’t.

*~*~*

After the small competition, Mr. Connor had us pair up as usual while we waited for a hunter to work with us. Despite his absence, Mr. Connor said Eric and Brian would be working together for the rest of the Phase. At first, I figured they deserved each other because they were both jerks. After I thought about it some more, I wasn’t convinced having two of my biggest…problems teamed together was a good thing. But since there wasn’t anything I could do about it, I decided not to worry about it much.

Working with the hunters one-on-one was rough on most, even though they were obviously holding their punches and trying not to hurt people. Even so, more than half of the class ended up leaving hobbling or rubbing aching muscles. Amazingly, some were more excited than ever to get the treatments, finally realizing how much stronger and faster they’d be afterward. I think half of them hoped they wouldn’t be as worn out, too.

We worked with netting, staffs, tazers, and tranqs in Weapons. I volunteered Linc to be my partner (like I planned on doing for all my classes). He didn’t complain, since I’m sure he was still terrified of being paired with Tasha. But she’d asked for Chris to be her partner. Mr. Elliot seemed okay with both pairings, especially Tasha’s since having her with Chris meant less injuries and complaints.

In Demonology, we went over the basics of all the demons we’d learned about so far: what their strengths and weaknesses were, what weapons would or wouldn’t work on them. I’d hoped to start updating the Demon Database again, but Mr. Sheldon said it wasn’t likely as he didn’t think I’d have the time.

Tracking wasn’t that bad. We spent most of the class reading over what we’d learned in Phase Two and getting updates about the new tech we’d use for bug planting (in suspected demon nests) and intel gathering. Though Mrs. Fletcher did warn us the next few weeks wouldn’t be as easy.

Fridays were, as usual, filled with torture from Doc in the form of her usual testing of my eyesight, hearing, stamina, and whatever else she could throw in. That didn’t include the time I spent in the Scan All (aka the Terminator Tube or TT) contraption the CGE had bought last Phase. Even after a year, I was sure Doc still had a crush on it and would, given half a chance, marry the crazy machine. (And I was still convinced the TT would take over the world and be the fall of humankind.)

On Saturday, no one did anything because we spent the day recuperating from the first week of classes. Tasha decided we needed to form a study group of some kind since all our teachers warned us this Phase would be difficult. So on Sunday, I made my way to the cafe court for our first session. I liked studying more than most, but even I didn’t want to do it at nine in the morning.

As I rounded a corner, I ran into Rachel (who Tasha was now calling my nemesis). Her blonde hair swirled in her face and her dark brown eyes landed on mine. She smiled at me. Not a snarl or a I’m-planning-your-doom type smile, either. A full blown
nice
one. “Sorry ‘bout that. How are you doing, Jade?”

I eyed her warily, waiting for the shoe to drop—or the fists to fly. Neither would have surprised me. But when they didn’t happen, I took a step back just to be safe. “Hi.”

“I heard about the trouble with Eric.”

Probably
from
Eric as they both laughed about it
, I thought. “I’m fine,” I said through clenched teeth.
And here it comes. In 3, 2—

“Sorry he’s giving you a hard time.”

“Yeah, yeah—” I blinked. “What?”

“He shouldn’t have done anything,” she said.

I tried to respond but found myself gaping at her like a fish instead. I almost pinched myself, just to make sure I was actually awake. If I was a sci-fi fan or believed in alien abduction, I would’ve thought she’d been replaced by one. Or cloned or had a personality transplant. Something. Anything but this…whatever
this
was.

Her grin only widened. “Well, see you later!” She all but skipped down the hall.

I watched her go, even long after she was gone from sight. Had the CGE been lifted and placed solidly in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle, maybe? Alternate reality? Pod people? The only time I’d ever seen her smile was when she was doing something nasty to me.

Frowning, I went in search of Linc and Tasha in the cafe court. They were sitting with Chris, munching on snacks. I plopped down beside Linc.

Linc’s arm went around my shoulders automatically. “What’s up?”

My tone was muted when I said, “I just saw Rachel.”

“Uh oh,” was Tasha’s response. “How much shit went down?”

“None.” I threw my hands in the air and let them fall. “Absolutely nothing. She
smiled
at me. Even said she heard about what Eric had done and said he shouldn’t have. She was…nice.”

“Really?” She made a face. “That’s a little weird.”

I slapped my hand on the table. “See? Isn’t it?”

Tasha nodded. “No doubt she’s up to no good.”

“That’s what I’m thinking. Anything that has her smiling and looking happy worries me.”

“Maybe she’s trying to let bygones be bygones?” Chris suggested.

Tasha snorted before I could respond (with my own snort), then she patted his hand affectionately. “He’s so cute when he thinks he understands the opposite sex.”

Linc grinned and tried covering his laugh. By the glares coming from Chris, I’d say it didn’t work.

I bit back my own laugh and then shook my head. “Look, if I honestly thought she’d let things go, I’d be fine with that. It’s not like I enjoy being harassed by her and her friends.”

Tasha’s shoulders fell. “Jade…”

“I don’t believe her,” I said quickly, trying to stave off the threats I saw her coming up with, “so don’t hit me or anything. Don’t worry—I’ve learned my lesson. She’s planning something. I just don’t know
what
that something is.”

“Well, all I’ve gotta say is this: watch your back.”

I sighed. I hated that I’d have to do just that. I hadn’t really given Rachel much thought the last week, mostly because I hadn’t seen her. The time without being antagonized had been nice, even if it had been short-lived.

Then again, I thought a second later, I hadn’t learned my lesson that well, because I’d been stupid enough to get used to
not
fighting with her. I should’ve known better than that, too.

C
HAPTER 03

Thankfully, I didn’t see Rachel for the next few weeks, but Eric continued his glare-till-you-die campaign. He’d stopped muttering things at me in class at least, though I suspected it was only because now he knew the teachers could hear him. It wasn’t much of a reprieve, but I’d take it, because classes were bad enough without him and Rachel adding to my troubles.

Combat was non-stop fighting and we’d moved into taking on two opponents at once. Sometimes one—or both—of the ‘bad guys’ had a weapon, sometimes they didn’t. Mr. Connor and the agents ran us through different scenarios the entire day, with five minute breaks in between that were barely long enough for us to catch our breaths. According to Mr. Connor, that was exactly why.
Because you won’t have time to catch your breath when you’re fighting for your life
. Or so he’d said.

In Weapons, Linc pestered Mr. Elliot about teaching the class how to use throwing stars. Mr. Elliot had given Linc some to practice with over summer break (when he couldn’t do much with his broken foot), so now he’d started collecting them. But instead of throwing stars, we were working with stakes. They were harder and more dangerous than I thought they’d be, because they were hand-to-hand, up-close-and-personal attack weapons. I’d always figured stakes would be easier, but they required more strength than most other weapons since they weren’t effective unless you went for a heart shot. They worked on most demons, too, because heart shots were almost always deadly—except for a few demons that either had more than one heart, or extra thick skin and muscles that was nearly impossible to penetrate. (At the end of the class, Mr. Elliot finally relented and promised Linc some Linc-Approved exercises with throwing stars.)

Demonology was trickier than ever. The demons we were learning about now were mostly hybrids and had a lot of different information to consider. Our first assignment was to write up a ten-page plan of attack for a team of five hunters going up against a nest of three Octogators—a multiple-heart, multiple-tentacle demon. We had to select their weapons (two each) and give them each a ‘job’. Mr. Sheldon also gave us a list of issues we’d encounter in the hunt, including hurt agents, defective weapons, civilian witnesses, and two victims. And we only had a month to turn it in.

I’d had a busy summer with Weapons and Combat training, so I hadn’t had time to do more than a glance at my texts over our break. I wasn’t behind like my first Phase, but I wasn’t as ahead as I’d like, and I
didn’t
like that. (Though, Linc and Tasha weren’t bothered by it and said it was about time I was ‘one of them’ when it came to studying.)

We spent ninety percent of Tracking in the old garage behind the building, because it had more room for the different setups and scenarios Mrs. Fletcher had us training for. We were doing them as teams now, in groups of four to six. Our first scenario had us going through the different levels of the parking garage, looking for signs of demon activity. Afterward, we did it again, but this time we had to run the course in the dark with only a flashlight to guide us. Mostly, the teams failed miserably with the flashlight-only test. A lot of Prospects ended up crashing into walls, skipping signs altogether, or reading them incorrectly, and even a few were fake-killed by demons for doing something wrong or missing something vital.

By the end of the third week, I—and every other P3, it seemed—was exhausted.

Everyone spent the weekends being as lazy as possible. Usually, you could find at least a few people on the track practicing what we’d learned in our classes, but hardly anyone practiced now unless we had to. It was like everyone was trying to save their energy since the extra weekend training would start in a few weeks.

Added to that, Halloween was next Sunday. It wasn’t as bad as last Phase (meaning I didn’t go crazy and snap and/or ignore everyone), but I’d been having nightmares for the last week and waking up in cold sweats.

Linc glared and shook his head at anyone who started to even mention Halloween. Even Tasha and Chris—who both loved Halloween—had been unusually quiet and careful not to say anything about it if I was around.

Right now, they were huddled on the bleachers, talking rapidly. Every few seconds, they’d glance at me, then lean closer together like they were trying to make sure I wasn’t listening in. (Which I wasn’t.)

“If they get any closer, they’re going to be conjoined twins,” I muttered.

Linc nodded. “Tasha would definitely be the twin in control.”

I chuckled. After a second, I sighed. “Look, I appreciate what you guys are doing, but I’m okay. Really, I am. You don’t have to hide the Halloween talk. I haven’t snapped at anyone or ignored anyone.”

“No, you haven’t, but there’s no reason to rub your face in it, especially when you’re losing sleep.”

I almost denied it, but what was the point? “How do you know?”

“It shows,” he said gently. “You have circles under your eyes. And I’m not the only person who’s noticed—the teachers have, too. Mr. Sheldon asked me about it after class the other day. That’s why he pulled me aside.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wanted to know if you were handling things okay and asked if I thought you’d take a day or two off.”

It didn’t surprise me that the teachers knew Halloween wasn’t my favorite day. After last Phase’s breakdown, Greene probably warned them all that it was the day my family had died. But it did surprise me that Mr. Sheldon said something to Linc. “I’m not acting different,” I murmured.

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “You don’t volunteer, you don’t answer questions anymore unless you’re directly asked, even though you know the answers.” He tapped my knee and gave me a small wink. “Those are things you used to do, so I guess they notice the change, too.”

“You’re right. But you’re wrong about the reason. It has nothing to do with…Halloween. Well, not entirely, anyway.”

“No? Then what?”

I laughed. “Linc, pretty much everyone hates me now, or worse, they’re scared of me. Volunteering for things, answering questions—those things just bring more attention to me and I don’t want that. I don’t want to give them any more reasons to hate me. I think they have enough,” I added wryly.

Anytime I spoke in class, everyone would look at me and roll their eyes. During the first week, when Mr. Sheldon had asked a question, I’d answered it and a girl called me a show-off. Eric had smiled at her and said, “How’s that showing off? She just knows her family tree.”

BOOK: Breed of Havoc (The Breed Chronicles #3)
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