I stepped into the academic building and took the stairs two at a time. The hallway was empty, only the faint murmuring of the classes in session could be heard. Lockers lined the walls, each with a nameplate instead of a number, and not a single one with a lock.
After Meredith, Chris was my closest friend at school. He’d literally caught me the first time I tried to escape campus, and his humor had gotten me through the first week. The only downside was that he initially had a little bit of a thing for me, but we’d gotten past that. Thankfully.
Chris was overly friendly with everyone, and he was my next best resource for finding my cousins. He had normal, human physics second period. Not to be confused with the totally wacky metaphysics—a class designed to try to scientifically explain the supernatural.
I peeked in the tiny, off-center window of his classroom door and spotted his head of wavy blond hair in the back of the room. A teacher I hadn’t met yet gestured wildly with a piece of chalk, then slammed his hand on the black board next to his scribblings for emphasis. The back of his black hair was standing on end, giving him an Einstein-esque look. If Einstein were ripped and thirty.
He motioned wildly again and the class cracked up. Holy crap. The guy was either a really great teacher or completely insane.
I knocked a couple of times before opening the door wide enough to stick my head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need Christopher Matthews, please.”
A couple of the guys started whistling, and I couldn’t stop the burn from spreading across my cheeks. The maturity level in this classroom was shockingly low.
The teacher crossed his arms, unintentionally rubbing chalk over his shirt. Perfect. He was pissed, which I totally understood. I’d ruined his flow.
“We’re in the middle of class.”
“I know, but I need Chris now.” And I didn’t have time for this.
“Whatever you need him for can wait until after class.”
I could feel my eyes changing. The hair on my arms stood on end, and I forced myself to relax.
I will not grow fur. I will not grow fur.
The third time I repeated it in my head, I was calmer.
“I’m afraid it can’t wait. Chris is leaving class now. I’m not asking.” I met the teacher’s gaze as I spoke. I didn’t know him, but I knew that I was alpha enough to turn my request into a demand. One he’d have to obey. We held gazes for a second before he turned to Chris.
Fantastic. Some people might like displays of power, but I totally didn’t. Not at all. They kind of made me feel ill. The classroom had grown completely silent as they waited to see if I’d do something more.
I cleared my throat and glanced at Chris—the only person who was still looking at me. “I’ll wait for you by your locker.”
Chris rolled his shoulders back, calling to attention his toned arms. He might prefer to draw, but he could kick his fair share of ass, too. He stuck his pencil behind his ear and quickly gathered his things. Satisfied that he was coming, I gave the teacher one last look and left.
As Chris strode to me, blond hair falling into his eyes, I swung his locker open.
“What’s going on?” He said as he shoved in his books.
“I’ll tell you once we get outside.” I didn’t want anyone listening. The walls of St. Ailbe’s were thick, but werewolves had impossibly good hearing. I couldn’t risk anyone stopping us.
As soon as we were through the door, he pulled me to a stop. “What’s going on?” He asked again.
“It’s Meredith. Her wolf woke, and the curse…it’s going to kill her. She was puking blood this morning.”
His blue eyes widened. “Shit.”
“I know.”
He rested his hands on his head as he said some choice expletives. I tried to keep my emotions in control as he let his go. Meredith had been his friend for way longer than I had. I’d already had my freak out time, so I let him have his.
He paced in a circle a few times before stopping in front of me. “What do we do?”
“We ask my cousins for help. If they can’t break the curse and I can’t convince whoever cast it to break it, then I’m not sure what’ll be next, but we’ll cross that bridge later. Or hopefully not at all.” I crossed my fingers. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the coven is, would you?”
“No.”
Shit.
“No one except Mr. Dawson—and maybe Dastien—knows were they live. Did you ask Dastien?”
I cringed. “That’s a no go.”
“I can get us in the general area, but it won’t be exactly where they live.”