Chapter 20 Avery
AVERY
“Avery!” Clara shrieked as the wolf hurdled the SUV and launched himself at her.
He wasn’t as big as Heath or my dad or even that shithead Rip, but he would be close when he fully matured.
I landed next to Clara, and the force of it rocked me hard, even with my enhanced strength. I ripped my swords from their sheaths, ready to impale an out-of-control teenage Prime. I could only hope Clara wasn’t injured in the process.
I needn’t have worried.
George sprang from the ground, launching his upper half like a dart at the wolf.
He struck, sinking his rows of curved teeth into the wolf’s thick neck and knocking him right out of the air.
The wolf yelped, and then he snarled and shook his head violently, but to no avail.
George was already wrapping his long body around that furry neck.
“By the Moon,” Clara gasped.
“He’s constricting,” I told her. “George! Do not kill him.”
I had to trust he would listen to me because there was no time for me to interfere. The lion was on us, roaring as he leapt right at me.
My beast pounded ruthlessly against my skin.
It would be so much easier to let her out to handle this asshole.
Like all Primes, he was larger than the average lion found in the wild, but he wasn’t as big as a mature Prime feline.
My beast would tear this little shit apart, but I had no idea if the school had cameras out here.
So swords it would be, like it always fucking was.
I shoved Clara out of the way and then dove in the opposite direction. The lion flew past me, skidding to a stop against the gate before he turned and jumped at me again, mouth open and teeth aimed at my neck.
I ducked and jammed both swords in an upward strike, impaling one in his furry chest, the other only managing a glancing slice to his shoulder. He roared in pain, and I was able to yank my sword out and hit the deck, but not before the lion’s hindquarters smashed right into my skull.
“Avery!” Clara shouted again. “Paul! Leave her alone!”
Paul the lion snarled viciously at Clara, blood dripping from his chest and matting his dark fur. I crawled to my feet, my ears ringing. Something warm dripped down my temple. I must’ve busted my head open when I hit the pavement.
“Now I’m pissed, Paul,” I told the lion. “Shift back and walk away, or George is going to suffocate your brother to death.”
He roared, baring deadly teeth.
“Wrong answer,” I said, my voice dropping to a guttural growl as my beast snarled and raked at my skin.
Paul charged me, staying lower to the ground this time. He swiped at me with sharp claws, and I parried with my blade, slicing his front leg deep. He recovered quickly and pounced, his big body slamming into me. His hotheaded teenaged shifter brain was in overdrive, my swords be damned.
I shouted in frustration as I went down under him, burying both blades in his stomach.
Clara was screaming again, but there wasn’t much I could do at this point, outside of shifting into my beast. Paul roared and wheezed, the weight of him crushing, but my swords weren’t going anywhere.
He was bleeding profusely now—I just needed to wait for him to weaken.
But I’d forgotten my ace in the hole.
George had released his prey, who lay motionless on the ground right in front of the SUV, a few feet away.
He zipped over to me and struck at Paul, then wound himself around the lion’s neck just as he had the wolf.
The force of George’s strike shifted Paul’s lion body off me enough that I was able to roll out from under him.
I flopped onto my back and lay motionless for a minute, staring up at the cloudy, dark sky. Clara appeared above me and held out a hand.
“They’re both, um, passed out,” she said quietly as she helped me to my feet. “I thought George might’ve killed them, but I can see their bellies moving. They’re breathing.”
George slithered quietly over to us, a gleam in his snaky eyes. “You did so good,” I crooned at him. “What an efficient little fighter. The best ever—yes, you are.”
“He’s terrifying,” Clara whispered. “Elijah’s not allowed to bring him into our house. My mom thinks he’ll eat Bonbon and Parfait.”
“Who?”
“Her corgis.”
I snorted a laugh, then sheathed my swords and rolled out my neck and shoulders. My head still hurt, and I was covered in lion blood.
This was a giant fucking mess, but I wouldn’t be cleaning it up. I’d done my part.
I directed Clara to the gate, and I used what strength I had left to boost her over. I followed, using the same run, leap, and climb method I had the first time, and after George had slipped through the bars, we trudged off in search of the Blackwell brothers.
“I know Aiden’s house is over here somewhere,” Clara mused. “This is faculty housing, right?”
I took in the narrow street illuminated by the soft light of the streetlamps and lined with quaint redbrick homes. “I’ve only been going here for, like, a month,” I replied with a shrug. “I’m a transfer.”
Clara tapped her lips, still perfectly lined and colored even after all the nonsense earlier. I’d have to ask her what brand of lipstick she used. “It’s here somewhere. Heath always stays with Aiden on the weekends, and they wouldn’t be off campus during curfew, right?”
“We’ll find out.” I was just glad Clara had insisted on tracking Aiden down at his house instead of marching us through the dorm, looking for Heath’s room. I was a little too blood-spattered for polite company, and faculty housing was much more isolated over on the west side of campus.
“Oh! Do you think George knows the way?” she asked.
I must’ve taken a harder hit to the head than I’d thought, because duh. At the moment, George was gliding lazily through the manicured lawn next to the sidewalk. “Hey, buddy, can you show us the way to Aiden’s house?”
He dipped his head in a nod.
Perfect.
We followed him down the street to the first intersection, where he made a right turn, and then he slithered up the stone walkway and onto the porch of the house on the corner.
It was a two-story home with a sloping roof and windows framed by dark blue shutters.
Thin white columns stretched from the edge of the roof down to the porch floor.
Under one of the large front windows, there were a couple of weathered rocking chairs with a small table between them.
A black coffee mug sat abandoned on the table, forgotten from sometime earlier.
I jammed my finger into the doorbell, then rapped a fist on the door for good measure. I was out of patience. This night needed to be over already.
The door swung open. It appeared the Moon had decided I deserved a reward for my suffering tonight, because there stood Aiden, wearing only a pair of navy sweatpants.
Unlike his brother, he did not have his beast tattooed across his broad chest. No, he was all smooth, tan skin over taut muscles.
The dim light from the bulb above us seeped into the grooves of his abs, and I allowed myself a single second to trace those lines with my tired gaze until the V-cut at his hips disappeared into the waistband of his pants.
“Clara? Avery? What the hell—”
Clara sobbed and threw herself into his arms. He caught her, wrapping her in a hug, his defined biceps flexing as he squeezed her tight. His gaze was pinned on me, though, confusion and alarm written there as he took in the state of me.
“Woah, Clara? What’s going on?”
Heath appeared over Aiden’s shoulder, disappointingly fully clothed in a simple white T-shirt and soft gray pants. He took one look at Clara crying into Aiden’s bare shoulder, and then he saw me. His jaw slackened, and then his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Good, you’re both here.” I sounded as exhausted as I felt. “We have a problem, and you’re going to need to clean it up.”
Heath lunged past Aiden and Clara and grabbed me by the arm. He pulled me into the house, slammed the door behind us, and maneuvered me right onto the couch in the cozy little living room.
“What happened?” he growled as he hovered over me, grasping my chin in his hand and using the other to gently probe the cut on my head. “You reek of feline hair and blood. Are you hurt anywhere else? Take your sweatshirt off.”
He reached for the hem of my shirt, and I swatted his hands away. “Stop that. This blood isn’t mine. That would be Paul’s, the piece of shit your parents sent your sister on a date with.”
Aiden set Clara on the couch next to me, and now we had two bossy Blackwells staring down at us, concern warring with rage across both of their stony faces. Clara sniffed and grabbed my hand. She was trembling again, so I gave her fingers an encouraging squeeze.
“Clara,” Heath said, forcing some softness into his voice that he hadn’t bothered with when speaking to me. “Did Dad send you on a date with Paul Blankenship? How did you end up all the way up here?”
She nodded. “It was Paul and Harrison. They were… they were awful, Heath. I had to get away, and I didn’t know where else to go.”
She recounted the details of her date, her escape, her frantic drive to the school’s front gates, and the events that unfolded when Harrison and Paul tracked her here.
Gold rolled over Heath’s irises as she spoke, and Aiden’s had lit up in my favorite neon turquoise, both riled and fighting the urge to murder.
Good.
“I don’t know what would’ve happened if Avery and George hadn’t been there,” she said, sniffling. “I mean, they would’ve been in a lot of trouble if they’d have hurt me, but teenage shifters…”
“Aren’t always in control of their beasts,” Aiden finished for her. He ran a hand through his wavy hair, and then he speared me with a look. “Avery, for fuck’s sake. You took on two Prime beasts with only your swords?”