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

“No, that was it. Thanks. I’ll let you get back to…directory stuff.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck with your classes, Miss Hall.” He bowed his head in a small nod. “This Phase is going to be challenging, especially for you,” he added in a dark tone. And with that, Greene strode off, leaving me to stare and frown at his back.

Every Phase had been challenging so far.

How bad could this one be?

C
HAPTER 02

“Director Greene is just asking for trouble,” Tasha muttered as we made our way to the first class the following Monday.

Chris, who had been given a stern warning but not suspended over the fireworks thing, glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “How?”

“Combat as the first class of the Phase? Are they trying to get us to kill each other off? They need to ease us into it and start us with something easy, like Demonology. But no, we get Combat first. And then—” She jabbed a finger in the air. “—we have Weapons tomorrow, Demonology on Wednesday, and Tracking on Thursdays. We don’t even get a break at the end of the week. We start off fighting and end the week fighting. Someone needs to redo the schedule, that’s all I’m saying.”

“We get the weekends off,” Linc reminded her.

She made a pfft sound. “Yeah, this month. What about next month when we start the weekend training?”

Linc slowed his pace enough to grin and wink at me behind Tasha’s back.

If Demonology was our first class, she would’ve complained, saying our only easy day was at the beginning of the week. I didn’t tell her that, though. Instead, I just patted her arm. “We’ll be fine.”

Most of the class was already there when we walked in. Mr. Connor stood in the middle of the room with his hands behind his back, his muscles bulging. He’d always been the tallest and most muscular of the teachers, but he seemed larger than life this Phase and everyone looked tiny in comparison.

Once everyone else arrived, he said, “Last Phase is going to seem like a piece of cake compared to this one.”

Tasha’s eyes widened. “See?” she hissed.

“Most of your classes are going to combine all of your learned skills together, so you better pay attention to everything you learn. There’s no room for failure this year.” He paced as he spoke, his hands still behind his back. “You’ve all had two Phases to understand how serious we are, and if you haven’t learned it yet, you’d better get to it. Anyone caught goofing off will be asked to leave. The first time, you’re sent back to your room. The second time, you’re suspended from class for a week. If I have to do it a third time…well, let’s hope there isn’t one. Your adjustment period is over. Now let’s get to work.”

A few people—mostly the ones known for goofing off—looked mortified. Tasha looked scared, too, though she didn’t exactly goof off. She just didn’t handle testing in front of groups of people well. I was about to go offer my support when Chris grabbed her hand. Whatever he said had her relaxing and almost smiling.

Linc shoved his hands in his pockets and looked to Mr. Connor. “What will we be doing this Phase, exactly?”

“Fighting. You’ll spend a lot of your time going over the same things we’ve already gone over. The difference is, you’re going to be learning more offensive skills as opposed to defensive skills. It’s time you learn how to fight, not only defend. You’re training to be demon hunters, which means you’re going to be the hunters, not the prey.” He paused for half a beat and a sly smile crossed his face. “There’s always going to be a time when you have to tuck tail and run, and when it’s called for, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. But you can’t hunt demons if you’re always on the run. So, this Phase, you’re going to spend two hours a class with a group of trained hunters. Hunters,” he added, “who’ve had the treatments.”

“So we’re going to get our butts kicked,” someone muttered.

Mr. Connor’s smile went wide. “In essence. The first few weeks you’ll probably get your butts served to you more often than not, but you’ll learn, because that’s what you’re here to do.” There was a knock on the door and Mr. Connor gestured to it. “And there are your cans of whoop ass knocking. Come on in,” he shouted.

Four agents strolled into the classroom. I’d seen a few of them around, but I didn’t know them personally. None were smiling, and they didn’t look particularly friendly or happy to be here. They looked…fierce. And then two agents I did recognize followed them in: Peter Holt and Adam Easton.

Adam, who was the closest in age to us, wore his usual easy smile.

“Did someone call for a can of whoop ass?” Peter asked, grinning ear to ear.

Mr. Connor returned the grin and walked up to Peter to shake his hand. “We did.”

Peter laid a hand over his heart. “I do love those words.”

“Want to show this lot how Combat’s really done?”

“I love those words, too,” Peter said. He glanced at the class and winked. “You might want to stand back for this.”

Adam ushered everyone toward the back wall as Peter and Mr. Connor began circling each other.

Some of us had seen Peter in action—or at least semi-action—but we’d never seen Mr. Connor in a fight before. He always showed us the moves he wanted to teach us, but it was usually against another student in slow-motion or with the CMs (Combat Mannequins). After his declaration last Phase that he wasn’t just a teacher but a hunter, too, I was sure most of the class wanted to see him in action.

Peter danced around him. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Without anymore warning, they started fighting. Peter moved in for the first attack with a quick, left handed jab. Mr. Connor ducked to the side seconds before the hit would’ve nailed him in the face. He pivoted around Peter, elbowing him in the lower back as he moved. Peter winced but charged in again, this time punching out twice with his left, and delivered a third, right-handed strike to Mr. Connor’s stomach. The move seemed to motivate Mr. Connor, because he flew at Peter fast. They both kicked or punched in swift moves I could barely keep up with. They blocked each other’s moves or ducked and dodged out of the way half a second before a kick or punch connected.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other Prospects’ heads moving left and right, trying to keep the fight in their line of sight. But by the time they looked one way, the fight had already moved in the opposite direction.

Peter ended up a few feet away from Mr. Connor, shoving his shaggy brown hair out of his face. He shot him a slow smile even as his eyes narrowed, then he took off running at him like a bull. Mr. Connor put his fists up to defend, but Peter jumped, twisted in the air, and soared right over Mr. Connor’s head. He landed easily behind him and kicked him in the back.

Using the momentum to carry him, Mr. Connor flew forward. He rolled on the floor and jumped back to his feet seconds later, like the whole thing had been his idea from the beginning.

The entire class gasped and cheered them on.

Mr. Connor spun around. He ran beside the wall and when he neared Peter, Mr. Connor jumped and ran in an arc on the wall. He pushed off, extended his leg in a kick, and hit Peter in the side of the head before his feet touched the ground again.

They faced off against each other, glaring. They stayed like that for ten seconds before running at each other full-speed again. As they neared each other, they each extended an arm out of the side and caught each other across the chest, just below the neck. The force of the blows had them both flying back and hitting the ground loud and hard before sliding back another few feet.

Breathing hard and clutching or rubbing their collarbones, Peter and Mr. Connor laughed.

Adam moved in between them and stared down at them, shaking his head. “Show offs.”

A lot of the Prospects had seen Peter before, so while they still seemed impressed by his speed and power, they were, I thought, even more impressed by Mr. Connor. Most of the class stared at him with eyes wide, mouths hanging slightly open.

“That wall running thing was awesome!” Natalie said, her tone awed.

Beside me, Linc winked. “You could do that.”

I didn’t point out that I had already done something similar in the alley during the hunt for his demon last Phase. I wasn’t sure how I’d done it then, and I wasn’t really all that sure I could do it again without breaking something. “I don’t know,” I murmured quietly.

Everyone—save Eric, Brian, and a few scowling others—started whispering about Mr. Connor and Peter’s speed and strength, or replaying this or that move.

One of the guys in the class looked at Peter and Mr. Connor hopefully. “You’re gonna teach us that stuff, right?”

“Maybe next Phase,” Mr. Connor answered. “That’s advanced training, things we’ve practiced and trained years to do.”

In the background, Eric scoffed. “I could do it,” he muttered.

I knew I wasn’t the only one who’d heard him. Mr. Connor, Peter, and Adam all looked at him with a raised eyebrow you-think-so? look. “Okay,” Peter said, nodding. “I’ll make you guys a deal—if it’s okay with Mr. Connor, that is.”

Mr. Connor shrugged. “Sure.”

“Deal is this. Adam here will show you all a move, something less advanced than the wall running thing, but still more advanced than anything you’ve trained for to date. You’ll split into two teams, with each person getting a chance to try the move once. If any single person from either team manages to do the move, then their entire team will get two hours a week of private training to learn different, advanced moves. Sound fair?”

Eric’s shoulders twitched.

The other Prospects nodded.

“Alright then,” Peter said. “Split up. Choose your teams wisely. Once we start, you can’t switch later if a different team looks more promising.”

Eric glared my way. “I’m on whatever team she’s,” he said, emphasizing the word with a sneer, “not on.” He cast a look over his shoulder. “I’ll stick with my own species, thanks.”

Linc and Tasha moved to my side as a few snickered and went to Eric’s side of the room. I’d spent the summer dealing with his crap, so it didn’t surprise me at all. It didn’t even surprise me that a few had immediately chosen his team. It was expected. Most of the Prospects still didn’t like me and I didn’t think that’d change so soon (though I’d still hoped it would).

But expected or not, it didn’t stop the gut-twisting feeling when, at the words ‘own species’, others picked Eric’s team.

Within a few seconds, half the class went to stand behind Eric. The other half seemed unsure of what they wanted to do. They looked to Eric and then to me, like they didn’t particularly like either of us and were trying to decide who was the lesser evil.

Tasha tossed her hands to her hips. “If you’re going to look at her like that, then you might as well just move on over to Eric’s team.”

And that was one of the many reasons why I loved Tasha—even when I was on the receiving end of that no-nonsense tone.

The undecided looked at each other, shrugged, and all but two—Brian and Natalie—took Tasha’s advice and joined Eric’s side of the room. It left us with a team of three. Natalie stared at us for a few seconds more, looking torn. She sighed and moved to Eric’s team.

Eric grinned maliciously at us—or, probably more accurately, me in particular. “Looks like they want to stick with their own species, too.”

“Keep the species comments to yourself, Mr. Reynolds,” Peter said, a steely edge to his tone.

Eric looked taken back, as did the others standing by him. He’d whispered it to his team, thinking no one’d hear him. His mouth opened and shut a few more times before he turned away.

Mr. Connor glanced at Brian, the only person who had yet to choose a side. “Why don’t you join Jade’s team?”

Brian scowled. “Whatever,” he muttered under his breath. He made his way to our side of the room and stood a few feet behind us, like he didn’t want to be too close.

Linc narrowed his eyes and glared at him. “If he didn’t want on our team, then he should have picked Eric’s,” he whispered.

Since last Phase, Linc hadn’t exactly been Brian’s biggest fan, but over the summer, it’d gotten worse. Brian had made some smart comment to Linc when he’d broken his foot on break. Now there were nearly as many dirty looks between the two of them as there were between me and, well, everyone else.

Peter motioned to Adam. “You’re up. Keep it simple, but not too easy.”

Adam backed away from the wall until he was ten feet from it. My team was on his left and Eric’s was on his right. Adam glanced at both teams, giving us a wicked grin as he started running. He jumped as he reached the wall, ran up four steps, and planted both feet before kicking away. He spiraled in the air and landed gracefully in a crouch.

Whoops and cheers rang out from some of the Prospects on Eric’s team, but they stopped as soon as he glared at them. “Oh, big deal.”

“And we’ve got a volunteer,” Peter said cheerfully. “Your team’s up first. You each get one shot.”

Eric rolled his eyes again and then rolled his shoulders. He made a smug face. “I can do that. Easy.”

“You might want to try—”

“I’ve got it,” Eric said, cutting Adam off.