Chapter 10

Spencer

We meetno traffic on the road, no fucking dragons overhead and the fighting in the capital appears to have died away completely. Soon, the academy comes into view, the sun rising behind the mound and silhouetting the remnants of the destroyed mansion, its turrets toppled, its roof caved in, its walls charred.

It has a lump forming in my throat. This was my home. And now it's destroyed. What else has been shattered?

Trent parks the vehicle behind a hedgerow in a field near the bottom of the hill and we climb up towards the academy. The fighting may be over but we are unsure who or what we'll find at the academy. Whether they'll be friend or foe. So we hug the tree lines and the hedgerows, the bright daylight making our presence far more conspicuous than we'd like to anyone on the lookout. However, finally we reach the meadow and the only way onwards is to break our cover.

"I could cast a fog?" Winnie suggests, "something to conceal us?"

The day is frigid and cold and perhaps a mist lingering over the meadows would not be out of place, but its sudden appearance would be.

I shake my head. "We go quickly and we stick together. If we get split up, we meet back at the hill where we left the vehicle."

They both nod, obviously happy to follow my instructions; all that time as dueling team captain obviously paying off. We keep our heads down and race across the meadow. Strips of the grass have been burned away, the earth scorched and ash blows across from the campus and into our faces, the stench of soot irritating my nose, the beast inside me snarling.

We cross the meadow without detection and hit the perimeter of the gymnasium. The dueling pitch has been uprooted, the stands caved in but the gymnasium itself has escaped untouched, only the walls discolored by the soot swirling in the air.

Winnie gasps as we swing around the building. From here we see the shell of the mansion, much less of it standing than I'd realized. The other buildings – the magical labs, the greenhouses, the student dorms – are all in tatters.

"There's nothing left," Winnie says, hands rising to cover her mouth.

"Come on," I say, tugging on her arm. We don't have time to hang around staring. We need to fetch that car and go.

We hug the walls and make our way along the paths.

But we soon realize there's no need. The battle is truly over. The fighters from the West gone. Instead, students and teachers are picking through the rubble, leading injured people away and tending to those yet to be moved. Intermingled among them are reinforcements from the republic, inspecting the damage and handing out orders.

"It seems safe," Trent says, "I'm going to head back to my room to pick up those radios. I'll meet you back here." He squeezes Winnie's hand, then races off before we can stop him.

Winnie and I continue along the path, swinging around another corner and walking straight into Summer fucking Clutton-Brock.

She's dressed in a velvet academy sweatsuit, her hair tied up neatly, her face doused in makeup. She does not look like a girl who just stepped out of a fucking battle. She looks like she's been to the salon.

Her violet eyes alight on Winnie and then on me and then she screams so fucking loud I think I actually burst an ear drum.

"What the fuck," I mutter, attempting to push past her.

She scuttles backward, continuing to scream her dumb head off, except now she's waving a painted fingernail at the two of us too.

"Help! Help me! It's the werebeast," she yells as loud as she can. "It's Spencer Moreau, the werebeast!"

"Shut the fuck up," I growl at her, but her screeching has already attracted the attention of others. People lift their heads to peer our way and footsteps march towards us.

"And Winnie Wence," she continues, "best friends with that girl who attacked me with crimson magic!"

"I told you, shut up," I growl menacingly at her, but she doesn't, continuing her damsel-in-distress act, even though her eyes are twinkling with malevolence.

"Remain exactly where you are and lift your hands in the air." I turn my head and see a group of the republic security forces strolling our way. York lingers behind them.

"What?" I say.

"You heard us. Put your hands in the air. Both of you."

What the hell? I peer towards York, but she simply averts her gaze to the ground.

"Why?" I say, swinging my gaze across all the faces now staring at me, most – unlike fucking Summer – with real fear in their eyes.

"We've been ordered to arrest any magicals who pose a threat to the republic," he says. "Now do as I say, lift your arms and remain still. There's no need to make a scene."

I peer over my shoulder at Winnie.

"Spencer," she says nervously.

I tune into my senses. Count the number of scents. Twenty. There's at least twenty of these security agents scattered across the academy grounds.

Could I fight them off? Could my beast? Possibly but then there are the teachers and the students – my so-called friends – too and fuck knows whose side they'd pick.

I stare into Winnie's frightened face and I think of Rhianna. Alone, in danger, probably even more frightened. I don't have a choice.

"I'm going to distract them," I tell Winnie. "You grab that car and get the hell out of here."

Winnie shakes her head. "That isn't going to work and I'm not leaving you."

"It is," I say with a grin, losing the shirt someone had thrust at me back at Tristan's place. "And I'll catch up with you."

"What are you doing?" the security jerks yell. "I told you, remain still." A warning shot whistles over our heads and Summer screams again.

"Spencer," Winnie says, "Rhi will never forgive me if something happens to you."

"Winnie," I say, still smiling at her even though I'm sure it no longer reaches my eyes. "We both know that's bullshit and we both know she will be fucking devastated if anything happens to you. So go now, while there's still time. We need that car!"

I don't wait for her to argue anymore, I toe off the too-tight borrowed sneakers and start to run in the opposite direction to the security forces, magic already pummeling after me.

They want me, they can damn well come and get me.

I streak along the paths, students and teachers scattering out of my way, the sound of heavy boots chasing after me.

As I careen around the corner of one of the dorms, I come face to face with a security agent and slam magic into his shocked face. A man behind him calls out, his magic shooting past my head. I fling the first man in front of me, using him as a shield and firing at the second.

"He's here!" he yells to his comrades. "Over h–"

He doesn't finish his words. I slam my fist into his mouth and he collapses to the ground. I throw the body of his comrade on top of him and, leaping over them both, race around the corner.

"Yeah, here I am you fuckers. You want to come and get me?"

I meet more of them around that corner, five perhaps and more running in my direction. I just hope it's all of them, that Winnie has made it down to the parking lot. I keep my ears trained for the sound of an engine as I blast my magic at the security agents firing on me. But all I can hear is the whistle of magic as it soars past my head, exploding on the path behind me. I swerve one blast, block another, send a third hurtling back the way it came. I'm better at this than them. Stronger, more skilled, better trained. But there are more of them than me and twice magic strikes me, scorching my thigh and my shoulder.

I hiss with the pain and keep fighting, making as much noise as I possibly can. Keeping them busy, aware they are coming closer to me, closer and closer, despite the first few agents falling to the floor.

Where the hell is that girl? Where the hell is that car?

I start to despair, convinced she must have been captured, convinced I will be too. The agents form a ring around me, trapping me against the wall of the gymnasium. Still, I fight. Firing magic with increasing desperation as more and more magic hits my body, bruising my skin and singeing my flesh. Another agent falls and another, but the ring around me grows tighter and tighter, and I don't know how much longer I can hold them off. Then finally – finally – there's an almighty crash, the roar of an engine, and a beat-up car comes hurtling through the parking lot doors.

The agents spin. They shout. Some start to direct their fire that way. The car swerves and careens, attempting to avoid the onslaught of the magic. A fire bolt hits the roof, a blast digs a crater into the path ahead.

She's not going to make it. She's not going to get away.

I yell at the agents, try to attract their attention back to me. More magic hits my body and I howl in pain, a howl that splinters right down to the bones of my body and I know what I have to do. I charge, pumping my arms and my legs, straight towards the ring of agents and as I do, the beast takes over my body – a body that cracks and creaks, lengthening and stretching, reforming, so that by the time I'm on the agents I'm more beast than man.

The car screeches away as the beast snaps his jaw through throats, breaks bones with the force of his body, sends men falling to the ground. He fights and fights, his jaw soaked in blood, the scarlet liquid dripping from his mouth.

But it's no good. There's too many of them. Too many soldiers. The ring tightens and tightens still. He howls in pain as magic hits every part of his body and soon they're on top of us, holding us down, weaving tight magical chains around our body. And soon we can't move at all.

Caught.