Breed of Havoc (The Breed Chronicles #3) (36 page)

As we made our way outside, to the waiting agent who’d driven us here, Doc shot me a quick look. “Do you think I’ll be a bad doctor?”

“Bad? No. But you do like torturing me and Linc.” I shrugged, then grinned. “So I think you’ve got a little evil in there somewhere.”

*~*~*

I spotted Linc, Tasha, and Chris on the bleachers as the van parked in front of the North Tower. “Come on,” I told Doc as Linc ran over. “You can help me tell them what’s going on.”

“Oh, but—”

“But nothing. It’s called socializing and you can handle thirty minutes of it. We don’t speak doctor or nerd—” Linc smirked at me. “Okay, we don’t speak
your
level of nerd, but we won’t bore you to death, either.” I shrugged. “Besides, someone has to have a clear head about the talk, and we both know that’s not going to be me.”

Reluctantly, Doc agreed and ended up hanging out with us for almost two hours. As promised, she didn’t die from boredom. After the initial Rachel and Dr. Cherry talk (which had lots of bad words coming from Tasha and worried looks from Linc and Chris), we ended up talking about everything under the sun. Later, after Doc left to get some work done, Tasha and Chris followed to get some food.

Linc and I stayed outside a while longer, with him glaring at everyone who looked at me funny, which ended up being almost everyone who crossed our paths, so he pretty much spent the whole time in glare-mode.

“That’s bullshit,” he finally said. “She really wasn’t concerned with the possibility of you hurting anyone?”

“Apparently not. She’s one of those big picture people who forgets the smaller pictures.”

“So what are you going to do?”

I shrugged. “Keep on keepin’ on, I guess.” He grinned like an idiot. “What?”

“I think I’m a good influence on you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“‘Keep on keepin’ on’? That’s from one of my movies.”

“It is not.” Crap. It probably was.

“Yeah, it is.”

“You’re a bad influence then, and your movies are even worse. I’m not watching them anymore.”

“Nice try. But back to the question. You’re just going to stop the appointments?”

“You don’t think I should? You think I should keep doing them and risk hurting people? Like you?” My eyes narrowed. “And speaking of you, why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you in class?” I almost hit his leg out of instinct, but then I caught myself. What if I hurt him again?

He took my hand in his and squeezed it. “Because I’m not a wimp and you weren’t really hurting me.”

“I didn’t say you were a wimp, but you should have told me.”

“It wasn’t that bad, Jade. Relax.” He shrugged, then grinned at me. His eyes were light. “Besides, even at your most dangerous, you’re still safer than Tasha.”

She had pretty much said the same thing earlier, but it was different. Tasha was—or had been—a klutz. I was just downright dangerous.

I tried to laugh, like I was sure he wanted me to, but instead, it sounded like a miserable sigh. “I haven’t seen Greene yet. I’m surprised I wasn’t taken to his office the second we got back.”

“He probably knows it was an accident, Jade. You’d never hurt anyone on purpose.”

No, I wouldn’t. But it wasn’t then I was worried about. It was the accidents that could or would happen. “It’s getting late.” I glanced at the North Tower and let out a huff of breath.

“We can wait out here a while longer, until most of the Prospects go up to their rooms.”

He would let me do that. He would let me hide out here until the coast was clear. But I couldn’t. I straightened my back and, like Tasha would tell me, put my big girl pants on. “I’m not a wimp, either.”

“I never said—touché, Hall. Touché. Alright, let’s go. And wimp or not, I’m still walking you to your room.”

“You do that anyway for a quick make-out session.”

“You’ve discovered my ulterior motive.” He helped me to my feet and then, wrapping his arm around my waist, walked me down the bleachers. “But now that means I have to think of a new one.”

“I like the old one.”

What was better than kissing your boyfriend after a particularly lousy day? As far as I knew, not much.

*~*~*

Over the next two weeks, no amount of kissing kept me in a good mood. I’d been on edge since that stupid night. Greene still hadn’t said anything to me about what happened during the mentor meeting. I’d tried calling and going to his office, but Mrs. Stevens always said he wasn’t available. If I had to guess, I’d say he was avoiding me entirely.

I wasn’t sleeping or eating, because I kept waiting for Greene to say something. I had nightmares about turning into a demon and going on a rampage throughout the CGE.

No one else really said anything to me, either, but the looks of utter fear on their faces was enough to have my fists permanently clenched, my jaw locked tight enough to have my teeth ache, and my eyes narrowed so much I was half afraid they’d get stuck like that.

People were, like last Phase, tripping over themselves to get away from me. If I was on one side of the room, everyone else moved to the other. In class, no one got any work done because everyone was too damn busy watching me, like they were afraid I was going to hulk out on them (Linc’s words) and bash their heads in or something.

I’d never bash
their
heads in, but more than once, I found myself staring at a wall and contemplating doing that to myself.

I preferred last Phase, when everyone was openly hostile. Somehow, that was easier to take than the looks of she’s-a-murderer! I was getting on a daily basis.

On the morning of my eighteenth birthday, Linc, Tasha, Chris, and I walked into Combat. As usual, everyone’s gaze went to me, there were the usual gasps of horror and fear, and then everyone shuffled to the far side of the room. Even Eric, who was known for shit-stalking, continued to looked scared. (But to be fair, he’d kind of been that way since the Tracking class fiasco—and I didn’t mind
him
being scared of me, but whatever.)

“You coming or what, birthday girl?” Tasha asked when I froze at the entrance.

“What? Oh. Yeah.”
But why am I going?
It was a question I’d been asking myself daily now.

Chris frowned. “Just ignore them.”

“Not hard to do when they’re all over there.” I pointed. And then I almost laughed when half of them clutched the person closest to them. “Are they really that afraid of me?” I whispered to Linc as Tasha and Chris moved on.

“Yeah, I think so.” He took my arm and guided me into the room since I hadn’t moved yet. “Rachel’s been talking it up. She’s got the sympathy card again and she’s playing it hard.”

I expected nothing else, but did that mean I had to actually get what I expected? Couldn’t something go
un
expected in a good way for a change? Weren’t birthday’s supposed to be
good
days? Wasn’t that a universal rule or something? It should have been.

Mr. Connor walked over to us as we made it to the far corner of the room. “Jade,” he said with a heavy sigh, motioning for me to follow him.

I glanced at Linc and shrugged, then followed Mr. Connor.

“Look, I hate to do this, but—”

The ball that’d been sitting in my stomach for the last two weeks doubled. “I’ll get my stuff and go.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“Don’t you need me to leave?”

“Why would I ask you to leave?”

“Because no one’s getting anything done with me here. They’re all too busy staring at me, and after last week, when Cassidy knocked Daniel out…”

“Oh, no.” He waved his hand dismissively. “They’ll either work or they won’t, and if they don’t, they’ll fail. That’s on them.” He’d raised his voice as he’d said it, so all the Prospects heard him and frowned. “But you’re not going to like what I’ve got to ask you. I need you to switch back with Brian.”

“What?” The word came out a squeak.

“His other partners…well, you’ve seen them. Just until the end of the Phase. It’s only a few months. Hell, Jade, you lasted longer than anyone else.”

“But—”

“He’s a good fighter. He’s just a little too good for anyone else here. I think you’re the only one who can handle him, to be honest.”

“Hell.” I winced. “Sorry.”

Mr. Connor raised an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”

The last thing I wanted—or one of the last things—was to be paired up with Brian again. “Do I have a choice?”

“Not really. I need you to do this. If, after today, you really can’t or won’t, then I’ll figure out something else.”

I let out a sound that was half laugh, half groan. “Okay.”

“Thanks, Jade.” He walked away and started getting the other Prospects ready for class.

“What was that about?” Linc asked.

“We’re being switched around. I’m Brian’s partner again.” I smiled fakely. “Happy Birthday to me.”

“Want me to see if Mr. Connor will switch?”

“No, it’s okay.” I sighed. “Probably safer this way, anyway. I’m stronger and faster, right? So it shouldn’t be like last Phase.” I hoped not, anyway.

Linc’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. Right.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He walked away.

I tossed my hands in the air. “Oh, for crying out loud!”

“I’m not thrilled about this either.”

I spun around to find Brian standing in front of me. “Not you,” I snapped. Shit. I didn’t like him, and I think we both knew it, but it wasn’t really his fault today—and the last two weeks—sucked. “Sorry.”

He shrugged.

Mr. Connor clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Alright. We’ve been working on the same routine for the last three weeks. You guys should have it down by now. We’re doing the same routine, only faster. Consider this a real fight. For the most part, it is, so if you don’t have this routine perfect, sit it out. Don’t be shy about it, either. If I find out you’re not ready and you’re trying this, you’re going to be in a lot more trouble than you want to be in. So now’s your chance. If you’re not sure about it, stand or sit by the wall.”

He gave it a few seconds, then a few of the kids stalked off. I saw Tasha start to, but Chris shook his head. “You know this routine, Tasha,” he told her, and didn’t let her go. Tasha steeled herself and nodded.

I smiled. Chris and I weren’t exactly close, but I knew the most important thing about him: he loved Tasha and he was great for her—and her confidence.

“Can we get started?”

Rolling my eyes, I let out a deep breath then turned around. Through gritted teeth, I said, “Yes, Brian, we can get started.”

Maybe this situation wasn’t his fault, but he wasn’t helping matters any.

I took another breath to calm my nerves, to focus so I didn’t hurt the jerk on accident.

I’d been holding my punches, putting in less than half the effort, to make sure I didn’t hurt anyone—namely Linc. He wasn’t pleased with the idea, since he figured it out pretty quickly, but I wasn’t risking him or anyone else. Not that the teachers would let me, anyway. Everyone had agreed that I should stick with Linc since he was adamant about it, despite my protests. I’d rather practice alone, where I couldn’t hurt anyone, but Linc wouldn’t let me.

So why did they trust me with Brian?

He made an impatient sound and his eyes flashed with anger.

“Sorry, geesh.” Why was he always in such a hurry to fight? “Let’s go then.”

We took our stances and started the routine. It took maybe two minutes to remember why I didn’t like being his partner—other than his
winning
personality—because of his intensity. Everything about him changed the second we started to fight. His fists clenched and I could hear them crack under the strain. His eyes narrowed and focused only on me, like there was no one else around us.

He didn’t hold his punches, at all, but he did exactly what Mr. Connor wanted: attacked hard and fast. By the time we went through the routine for the first time, my arms and legs stung from blocking hits.

When it was my time to play attacker, I held my punches and kicks.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, dropping his hands.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not here. You’re not attacking.”

“The point isn’t to hurt your partner,” I said, with more patience than I felt.

“No, the point is to practice. You’re acting like you’re hitting a baby.”

I dropped my hands now. “Are you ever satisfied? I mean, really. Are you ever happy? All you did was complain last Phase. We’ve been partners again for, what, ten minutes? And you’re complaining already!”

“Then fight already! Like you mean it.”

“Well, I don’t mean it!”

“Maybe you should.” His tone was cold. His eyes darkened, and before I could think or decipher the meaning, his fist flew into my jaw.

My head lurched back but I felt no pain. I only saw red. Oceans of it. It boiled inside me.

Without thinking, I hit back. I didn’t care or think about where I hit, I just struck out. Dimly, I thought I saw him smile, but even that small bit of notice vanished from my mind. Each punch and kick I delivered held a different part of my pent up anger. Anger at Brian for being an asshole; Dr. Cherry for her crap; Linc for his attitude over a misunderstanding; Rachel for, yet again, managing to get everyone against me; the P4s for turning on me; and finally, myself for...everything.

I punched and kicked, his arms, legs, chest—whatever I could reach. I hit until my knuckles screamed, until sweat and hair dripped into my eyes and I couldn’t see. My heart thundered in my chest and rang in my ears. If Brian got a hit in, I hit back even harder and faster. I didn’t let up, I didn’t back down. There was nothing else, just him and me and the red. There was no pain, only anger. Only fight-mode, like a switch flipped in my head.

Brian didn’t back down either. For once, I was glad for it. I didn’t have any qualms attacking someone who’d attacked me first. I felt bad over Rachel; over Brian, I felt justified. Satisfied.

And just like that, the switch flipped off. It was like coming out of a haze. I could actually see my vision clearing in front of me. Color and sounds came back, bright and loud. There were voices, yelling voices.