Summer Semester (Omega Wolf Academy Book 1) Page 13

  And was out for revenge.

  Why me? I wanted to scream the question but was afraid to make any noise and alert my captor that I was awake.

  Randall had always been a son of a bitch and, for some reason, he'd always had it out for me. Of all the girls he’d tormented, I had been his favorite, his obsession. It made a strange twisted sense that he'd come after me of all people. But why? Was there a purpose behind this, or did he just feel compelled to find and torture me like he had in the good old days?

  At the sound of approaching footsteps, I realized that I'd soon know the answer, even if part of me really didn't want it.

  Spite and determination got me through the agonizing process of sitting up, so he wouldn't find me sprawled across the floor, next to my own stomach contents as he had more than once. That was in another life, though, I reminded myself as my muscles screamed. I was stronger now. I'd survive this just like I'd survived everything else.

  I squeezed my hands tight, pressing the tips of my nails into my palms so hard that it drew blood. The small pain focused me, helping me keep my eyes open and trained on the door as it swung open and Randall strode through.

  "So, you're awake," he said, with a scoff. "I might have mixed up the dose just a little, or maybe a lot." He shrugged and grinned, then said in a fake professional voice, "side effects may include brain fog, muscle soreness, vomiting, anal leakage, or death." The amusement in his eyes went cold and dark. "Please contact your nearest healthcare provider if you experience any of the above symptoms." Randall sank down into a crouch, his eyes narrowed and lips firm as he glared with utter disgust at me.

  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop my body from shivering as a lifetime of violent memories rolled back like a tidal wave and threatened to break my mind. Randall's lips curved in a sneer and he shook his head.

  "Still weak, I see," he hissed, pushing to his feet to look down at me. "Fortunately, I don't need you in one piece to get what I want."

  I clenched my teeth. I couldn't stop my body from shaking but I'd be damned if I would let my fear silence my voice. "And what the fuck do you want, you psychopathic asshole?" I shouted, tilting my chin into the air to stare straight up at him in defiance.

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise and, for a moment, I thought I saw something in his eyes, something like pride, and it was gone and rage contorted his handsome face turning him back into the monster I remembered.

  He chuckled, and the sound of it echoed through my mind, just like in the nightmare. Then, faster than I could blink, he reached down, grabbed the front of my shirt to drag me up, and drove his fist into my face.

  Chapter 19

  I was dragged out of oblivion by a sharp kick to the ribs and what felt like a bucket of water in the face.

  "Get up!" Randall shouted as he threw what actually was a bucket at my face.

  "Mother fucker," I said between gritted teeth that now felt a little loose after the epic punch he'd delivered after my newfound attempt to be brave and sassy. I rolled to my stomach and rose up on my knees slowly, then rubbed my jaw which I was happy to discover wasn't broken. I'd forgotten how hard he could punch when aggravated, but it was all coming back to me now.

  I caught my breath once more and lifted my head to look up at him. He hadn't changed at all, he still wore his hair short and severe, and he still had that cocky bastard smile that clearly said he loved the process of giving pain to others. I'd wondered many times if that's the only way he could get off. Fortunately for my ribs, I'd never had the balls to ask him. Fraternization hadn't been allowed, since our imprisonment was for the purpose of creating a child that would fulfill some ancient prophecy, or so I was told. Raphael wouldn't have reacted kindly to his baby mamas being soiled. Besides, most of the men in the mountain had been birthed by the women there and raised by the king psychopath. We were all related by blood, although I knew that didn't matter to some.

  "What do you want?" I asked, spitting blood onto the floor next to me. Gathering my strength, I gripped the nearest piece of furniture, an old dresser, and pulled myself to my feet.

  For a moment I wasn't sure if I could stay up, then my legs locked, and my head slowly cleared. "Why aren't you dead or in prison?" I braced for another strike.

  Randall's laugh was cold and bitter. "Maybe because I'm smarter than your little friends. Come on, now, Alexis," he said, using my real name. "Aren't you glad to see your brother alive?"

  I swallowed back the retort that leapt to my tongue, knowing it would end in me on the floor, covered in blood, and there was little point in antagonizing him if I wanted to get out of this alive. I had to be smart.

  Back in the mountain, I've been under Raphael's protection. The possibility that I could have been the one to give birth to the prophesied child had kept me and all the other girls alive. We weren't in the mountain anymore, though, and Raphael really was dead. It was strange to think of him as my salvation when he was the mad mind behind all of this.

  There was a new mad mind now, I supposed, eyeing Randall warily. I needed to find out why he was here and that meant getting him talking.

  "Why are you here?" I asked, digging my nails into the wood of the dresser.

  "Why are you here?" he echoed. "Are you seriously trying to fit in with the other freshmen as if you aren't a worthless scrap of flesh?"

  I swallowed hard. Katherine LaFlamme had been the girl from the prophecy. I knew that and he knew that. Without that potential, I was worthless to him.

  Unless I wasn't.

  "If I'm so worthless, then why did you go through all this trouble? Why follow me around and kidnap me? You could be on a beach somewhere, enjoying the sun, but instead you're here at Omega Wolf Academy. There must be something worthwhile about me or you wouldn't be here." I held my breath and braced.

  But the blow never came. Instead, Randall tilted his head to the side and studied me. "I'm not sure if I like this new version of you or if I want to cut out your tongue to shut you up." He tapped his lips thoughtfully and smiled as my eyes went wide. "But you're right. You aren't worthless. You just don't need to be in one piece to be useful to me." He turned his back and strode across the room to grab something I hadn't noticed on a table next to the door.

  I took the momentary reprieve to suck in as much oxygen as possible and calm my racing mind. He was obviously enacting some plan, which meant that I was already three steps behind. I wouldn't stay alive for long if I didn't think through my actions and words first.

  Keep him talking, that's what all the crime scene investigation shows advocated. The more he talked, the more I could understand his motivations and actions. I wasn't sure if that would help, but it sure as hell couldn't hurt. I wished Shemar Moore was here to help.

  I looked around the room, taking in the details of my new prison. I was in a house, a vacant one by the thick layer of dust on the furniture. It was nighttime now and, I hoped, still the same day. I wasn't sure how long I'd been out, but it had been shortly after 7:00 p.m. when he'd grabbed me. The sky outside was still pitch black, which meant I'd only been unconscious less than ten hours. That was well within the first forty-eight hours. Unless it was actually the following night. Even then, I told myself, I wasn't past that critical time period. Someone could still find me. Thankfully, I had three very invested someones who were probably frantic right now.

  Unless they thought I needed space or were pissed off at my suggestion. Then, I was screwed.

  "You don't need to do this." My voice cracked as desperation colored it. "Randall, look at me. I know you've never liked me, but I'm your sister. Raphael is dead, you don't need to do what he says anymore. You can think for yourself now." I hated to plead with him, but my life was worth the shame.

  Randall turned slowly, dropping his hand by his side so I couldn't see what he picked up. His smile was lazy and so self-satisfied that the spit dried in my mouth. My knees began to tremble so violently, I sank to the floor so I wouldn't collapse.

  He s
hrugged. "You're right, I can think for myself now. Which is why I've decided to do something about my situation." He strode towards me, grabbing the chair as he went, and flipped it backwards so he could straddle it and looked down at me. "See, when that bitch, Katherine LaFlamme, and her little friends, took the mountain and killed Raphael, they stole everything from me. I had a good life, food, shelter, and a purpose. They stole all of that."

  His nostrils flared with barely contained rage and I wondered when he’d managed to get control over his temper. He’d regularly lost it with me, which accounted for why I’d had so many broken bones over the years.

  “I was raised by a king among wolves and I refuse to live like a commoner anymore!” Randall’s voice rose with each word, like a preacher on the pulpit. His eyes blazed with fervent belief in what he said.

  It made my blood curdle.

  He glanced away from me, staring at nothing as if seeing a memory. “This world is disgusting and crude. People are sheep, just milling about their daily lives, ignorant of what could be, the possibilities for those who are bold enough to demand what’s rightfully theirs.” His eyes cut to me again, hot and mad, just like Raphael’s. “Don’t you think I’m bold enough, Alexis?”

  He lifted his hand now, holding it out so I could see what he'd retrieved from the table. It was a picture of a group of young women, standing before a majestic old manor house. I recognized the background, the women, and remembered the moment it had been taken.

  I stood near the center of the group, flanked by Rose and Katherine, and surrounded by my sisters. There was hope and joy visible on almost every face, even those still shadowed by the past. We'd been free three days when Liam had gathered us together in front of his father's home and insisted on documenting such an amazing memory. He and Rose had arranged a party with cake, and decorations, and music, where we'd all laughed, and danced, and cried in catharsis. It was one of the first true peaceful memories in my entire life.

  "Where did you get that?" I asked, automatically reaching for the picture.

  Randall pulled it out of reach and tapped a finger two it. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is this right here." He brought the picture closer and circled a finger around my face, including Rose and Katherine. "I know how close you've grown with sweet little Rose and how close she is with the bitch who ruined my life."

  "This is about Katherine?" I frowned and tilted my head in question, not understanding the path of logic he was taking. I was close with Rose, yes, but so were a lot of the girls. As for Katherine, I rarely saw her, and that was usually only at a distance. "She was just standing next to me. We're not friends or anything."

  "That may be true, but let's play six degrees of separation, shall we." He let the picture flutter to the floor where I grabbed it and held it like a shield against my chest. “We don’t even need all six. It’s simple. You’ve got LaFlamme blood running through your veins. The Alpha family won’t let you be tortured and killed, not if they can help it. So, I’m going to allow them to save you. Perhaps not all of you,” he said with a sly grin, snapping his teeth. “But most of you.” Randall narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “How much do you think you’re worth?”

  I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. They don’t even know me. Why would I be worth anything to them?” It boggled my mind that he’d think I’d make a difference to the Alpha family’s existence.

  Randall's laughter rang out. "That's the best part!" he exclaimed. "They'll care because they're good people." He put a bitter emphasis on good and rolled his eyes. "They care too much, and they're willing to sacrifice, especially material things, if it means saving a life. For them, it's as simple as that." He lifted his hands, palms up, with a flourish. "Ta da!"

  I stared at him, letting my emotions show clearly on my face. "You're just as mad as he is," I murmured, realizing just how far Raphael's influence had gone in Randall. "It'll never work."

  He shrugged. "It will, but, on the off chance that it doesn't, who cares? I have nothing to lose, Alexis," he said, letting the corners of his lips fall. "If I win, you live, but if I lose…"

  I shivered and squeezed my eyes shut, bringing to mind an image of my three beautiful guys, letting them bring me the smallest measure of hope possible before looking back up at him and accepting Randall at face value.

  I'd live or die but, either way, this psychopath was going to get exactly what he wanted.

  Chapter 20

  I caught the first glimpse of approaching sunrise just after Randall announced he was in need of a cup of coffee and would, perhaps, deign to bring me food, not that he was promising much, he said.

  I moved to the window, pulled back the brittle lace curtain, and peered into the diminishing darkness. The sun rose in the east, and it was straight ahead, which meant… absolutely fucking nothing, I realized with a grimace. "So much for being a CSI agent when I grow up," I muttered, shaking my head to clear the cobwebs that made reasoning difficult.

  The drug Randall had given me was still in my system, it had to be. I'd been drugged many times and remembered the strange way it made me feel. Without medicine to remove the effects, I'd have to wait it out, eat something, or exercise to help my body metabolize whatever it had been.

  Or, I mused, chewing on my lower lip, I could shift.

  During the shifting process, a wolf's body broke apart and reshaped through whatever magic was responsible for our being. It meant that broken bones, damaged organs, and most treatable injuries were metabolized faster and, therefore, healed faster. I reached for my shirt and dragged it over my head.

  Adrenaline, caused by fear, pumped blood through my veins quicker than usual, so that, when I called to my wolf, she practically leaped out of me. My body bowed back, arching my spine into the air as my head fell back, and my arms hung uselessly by my side. I gasped for breath as primordial pain shot through me, hot and fast, like lightning, before everything faded and my vision cleared.

  I lay on the floor, next to my discarded clothes, and panted, giving myself time to adjust to the flash shift. I'd gotten used to quicker shifts since leaving the mountain, but I'd never experienced anything like that before.

  When my heart beat in a regular rhythm, I pushed off the floor and padded over to the window again to peer out. In the minutes that had passed since my last glimpse, the sun had shifted slightly higher in the east. Between that and my enhanced lupine eyesight, I could actually see what was outside.

  Endless fucking forest, I thought.

  I turned away from the window with a huff, knowing full well that most of the land surrounding Omega Wolf Academy consisted of undeveloped forests. The Academy, like every other Academy, made damn sure there were little to no locals around who could grow suspicious and start snooping. There were enough conspiracy theorists out there with ideas about the supernatural to warrant nonchalance in that area. The good news, I figured, was that, if we were still in forested land, we might not be too far from Omega Wolf Academy.

  The fact that my shift had cleared my head of the drug also suggested that it actually was the same night as my abduction.

  I was getting better at this CSI shit.

  I knew my alone time was limited, that Randall would be back sooner rather than later, hopefully with food. Maybe there was something in this room, or in the distance outside, that would help me escape, even though I really doubted it. Still, I scanned the room, taking in the pieces of furniture that, while old, were made of solid wood and were, therefore, potential weapons.

  Randall was smart, and he'd been raised by a diabolical mad genius, so why had he left potential weapons in the room with me? And why hadn't he tied me up? I padded across the room, sniffing every corner and shadow, sneezing when the thick dust billowed up around my face. Other than the chair, a small table near the door, and the dresser drawers, there was nothing else useful in the room.

  Not unless you counted my canines.

  Now that I was my wolf, I had a weapon, me. The only
problem with that was that I'd seen Randall's wolf many times, and he was bigger, and meaner than I ever could be. I wasn't sure if staying my wolf was the smartest route to take, even though my wolf was practically screaming that it was.

  After a few moments considering all the options, I murmured a silent thanks to my wolf and willed my human form to appear. This shift was less frantic and painful and left me even more clear headed than the first. I hurriedly pulled back on my clothes as I heard footsteps begin to climb what sounded like a long set of stairs.

  I listened intently, counting off the steps and trying to picture the layout of the house in my mind, so that I would be ready if I got the chance to escape.

  Randall entered the room holding a tray filled with sandwiches that smelled suspiciously like peanut butter and jam. The choice struck me as such a mom snack that I had to choke back the manic laughter that bubbled into my throat. My stomach growled loudly when he set the tray down on the dresser and gestured towards the quartered sandwiches.

  “Eat up," he said jovially, which set my teeth on edge and reminded me of the Mad Hatter. "You'll need all your strength very soon."

  I reached for a piece and brought it to my mouth, then froze with the sandwich inches from my mouth, suddenly realizing that the peanut butter and jam snack could be laced with more drugs, which would knock me unconscious and weaken me further.

  Randall laughed, obviously enjoying himself. "You watch too much television, Alexis. I didn't poison your sandwiches." He picked up a piece and took a bite, chewed thoroughly, and swallowed. "See, all clear."

  When I took a bite and swallowed, he smiled. "Good girl."

  I swallowed the bite, but it tasted like sawdust on my tongue.

  But, since I had no intentions of dying or being maimed by this ass hat, I'd take his advice and keep up my strength.