Chapter Three

 

Alex waited in the shadows until the ambulance and police cars left. When the coast was clear, he made his way back to his motorcycle. He grabbed his helmet and sat on the curb.

“Trent, you there?”

“Alex, thank goodness! I thought they would try to take you in or something,” Trent replied.

“I didn’t let them.”

“Did you, uh, hurt anyone?” Trent asked.

Alex fought down the offense he felt at the question; Trent was just worried. “A few of the gang members, but that’s all.”

“Good,” Trent replied with a breath of relief. “I thought things were going to get awkward.”

“They are,” Alex replied dryly.

Trent was silent for a moment, then said, “You’re still in rage mode, aren’t you?”

Alex nodded, then remembered the werewolf couldn’t see him. “I can’t get it to go away, and I don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t dare ride the motorcycle with his vision still touched in blue. He could barely control his thoughts with the anger that still flooded through him.

“Hold on a sec,” Trent replied.

A few moments later, Siale said, “Alex, are you alright?”

The sound of her voice calmed the frazzled edges of Alex’s nerves. He took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie,” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice. “You don’t have to pretend to be strong for me.”

“Isn’t that what boyfriends are supposed to do?” Alex asked, fighting back a smile of his own. The blue in his vision began to fade.

“Most boyfriends,” Siale replied. “But you promised you would be honest with me no matter what, and I know you’re not fine right now.”

Alex felt ashamed at her words. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need to hear that,” she said, her words gentle. “I just want you to know that I care about you, the real you. You’re busy saving people and improving the lives of humans and werewolves, but underneath it all, you’re my Alex. You’re strong but gentle, quick to act but able to think situations through, and most of all, you care about those around you. That’s why you’re in Greyton right now. You can’t sit back when others could use your help. You’re selfless, Alex. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

Alex’s muscles relaxed. His limbs reduced to their normal length, he felt his fangs and face return to normal, and fingers without claws held the helmet. Scratches showed where his claws had scored the paint.

“Thank you, Siale,” he said quietly.

“Feeling better now?”

“Much,” he told her. “But you think way too much of me.”

She gave a light, musical laugh. “It was my turn to be honest.”

Alex shook his head, amazed at his good fortune to claim such an amazing girl’s heart. Commotion rose from the building behind him. He could see faces peering through the windows of the structure across the street. Footsteps sounded down the alleys.

“I think I’m beginning to draw attention. I’d better go.”

He shoved the helmet on his head and climbed onto the motorcycle. He drove through the Saa with the feeling of hundreds of eyes watching him go. The tension eased when he reached the business section. Cars filled the streets and pedestrians covered the sidewalks in droves. It was amazing how the dividing street of Angel Avenue had such a night and day difference. He took a calming breath.

Siale’s voice was quiet when she spoke, “Are you coming to Kalia’s funeral tomorrow morning?”

The relief Alex had felt leaving the Saa fled. Sorrow clung to his thoughts with merciless weight. “I can’t.” His voice broke on the words.

“You were her best friend here,” Siale said gently. “It would mean a lot to her.”

Alex’s gaze clouded to the point that he had to pull over. He slid his visor up and rubbed his eyes. “I’m the reason she’s dead.”

“You tried to save her. You did everything you could.”

“But it wasn’t enough.” Alex fought back the urge to cry. “I can kill a hundred Extremists, but I can’t save one girl? What’s wrong with me?” The tears he had tried to keep at bay broke free.

“You’re a seventeen year old werewolf,” she replied, her voice soft. “You shouldn’t have even been in that position. No one should have to watch their friend die.”

“If I had morphed sooner...”

“You can’t blame yourself for something you can’t control. Kalia wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“She kept calling my name.” Alex hunched over on his motorcycle, the emotional pain so intense it made his chest throb.

“She knew you would do whatever you could to try to save her, and you battled through a hundred armed guards to do it. You can’t beat a bullet, Alex.”

He knew it was true, but he couldn’t accept it. “She wouldn’t have been there in the first place if the General...” He gritted his teeth and corrected himself. “If my father hadn’t been trying to make me into his killing machine. If I wasn’t her friend, Kalia would be alive right now.”

“Would you give that up?” Siale asked gently. “Would you give away the friendship you shared to save her?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Siale’s question was filled with her need to understand.

People walking down the street were giving Alex strange looks. He shut his visor, blocking them out. “Because she was far better off before she met me.”

He started the motorcycle again. The sunlight on his shoulders felt flat and without warmth. He appreciated Siale’s silence as he drove down the road. He couldn’t face more questions. He couldn’t face anything at that moment.

Alex’s stomach growled. He found himself pulling into the small parking lot of the café where he had eaten with Cherish and the others the first time he had met them. He remembered to grab some bills from the cash Trent had given him and made sure the seat was locked securely before he went into the café.

He ate the egg, sausage, and cheese burrito without tasting it. The thoughts that swirled through his head did so with a maddening cadence that numbed his mind.

“I don’t think we’ll ever see her again.” A sob followed the words.

Alex turned his head slightly, catching sight of a woman bent over a table. The man next to her had a hand on her shoulder and wore the same broken expression.

“We can’t give up. Dessie is strong; you know that.”

“So are they, James.”

Alex’s first impulse was to clench away from the heartache in the woman’s voice. He had been through enough sorrow. He couldn’t handle feeling empathy for others when his ragged heart barely kept beating.

“I kept telling the police about the blue clover. They wrote it down, but they didn’t act like it was important.”

The man’s hand clenched into a fist. “It’s all we’ve got.”

“That’s why I kept saying it. It’s the only thing that links us to her.”

Alex didn’t know he had risen from the seat until he was almost to the couple.

“Was your daughter taken to the Saa?”

They looked up at him in surprise.

“Yes,” the man said, his tone cautious. He leaned protectively closer to his wife.

“When?”

“Two days ago,” the woman replied. She glanced at her husband.

“Are the police looking for her?”

Tears broke free to trickle down the woman’s cheeks. Alex tried to be unmoved by her pain, to remain impartial behind the walls he had erected to avoid thinking of Kalia, but the hurt was too fresh, and he had to clench his jaw to keep his strong façade.

“They said they’re trying,” she answered. She buried her face against her husband’s chest.

He smoothed her brown hair with one hand. “But they say too many are lost to the Saa. They go through in sweeps, but the girls being kept captive get moved.”

Alex nodded. “The gang sign they left was a blue clover?”

“Yes. They spray painted it on the door to the gas station where Dessie was working. She was the only one on that night, and security footage showed two men in hoodies grab her and drag her away.” The man flinched as though the memory of watching his daughter be carried away by strangers had scarred his mind.

Alex didn’t know if they believed he would save their daughter, or if just the fact that someone cared was a lifeline to hold onto. He set a couple of bills down on their table. “Don’t give up hope. Dessie will make it home.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He turned to leave, and heard the woman break into sobs as he exited the café.

“You’re heading west,” Trent said, his voice quiet as if he was afraid to speculate.

“I’m going to the funeral.”

The faint note of relief in Trent’s voice was almost lost in the sound of the motorcycle engine.

“Do you want Jaze to send the jet?”

“No,” Alex answered quietly. “I’d prefer to keep this to myself. I’m not going to stay long.”

“Are you coming back to the Academy?” Trent asked.

The hopefulness in his voice ate at Alex’s conscience. His friend truly missed him.

“I can’t,” Alex told him honestly. “Not for a while at least. I need things to, well...” He let the thought die away.

“I understand. Have a safe trip. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I know you will.”

The fact that Trent was able to track his every move used to bother Alex to no end. Now, however, the thought that someone knew and cared about where he was on the long, lonely expanse of road filled him with a sort of comfort. He turned his gaze to the horizon lost in the blue distance. Hills rolled away on either side, their graceful curves broken by cities, power lines, and small clusters of houses barely big enough to make up miniature towns. Alex let his thoughts go and became just a biker with the road beneath his tires.