“Look, I haven’t got time to stand here and argue with you,” I told him. “If you don’t believe me, watch the footage on the camera.” Then, realising that Potter was right, and I was being made to feel about as welcome as a fart in an elevator, I went to the door.

“Where are you going?” Banner called out.

“To get my friend back before she becomes another one of McCain’s victims,” I said.

Chapter Forty

Kayla

I could hear the sound of paws padding across the dance floor. The claws attached to them made clicking sounds. The wolves crept into the chapel, the sound of their breathing deep and rasping. There was panic amongst the students, and Sam gripped my hand and pulled me close.

“We haven’t come here to be set free, have we?” Sam whispered. “This is a matching ceremony, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” I whispered, letting go of Sam’s hand and releasing my claws. I felt something big and covered in fur brush past me and it made a snarling noise. I flinched backwards.

“Kayla, where are you?” Sam called out, losing me in the dark.

“I’m right here,” I whispered. “Keep still.”

I could hear the sound of feet rushing past me – not wolves – the other students trying to find a way out of the chapel in the dark.

“Put the lights on!” someone screamed.

There was a scuffling noise and I spun around. Then, the song Candyman started again, as if whoever had gone in search of the light switch had hit the wrong button. They must have tried again, as the strobe lights suddenly came on and I wished they hadn’t. In those sudden flashes of bright white light, I saw the wolves that had crept into the chapel. They had positioned themselves near to the students who they were planning on matching with. I wasn’t the only one who had seen the giant-sized wolves with their bristling fur and gaping jaws, as the chapel burst into chaos. In the glimpses of light, I saw the wolves leap through the air and smother the children standing before them. I looked to my right. Sam was standing there, his eyes wide as he stared ahead. I followed his gaze and saw a wolf rear up onto his back legs as it lunged at Sam. With the song Candyman blasting around the chapel, I leapt forward, plunging my claws into the throat of the werewolf.

The lights pulsated on and off and everything seemed to slow down. I felt my fist enter the wolf’s throat. It howled so loud that for a moment the music was completely drowned out. Its cries of agony must have alerted the other wolves, as each of them turned to face me. And in the flashing lights, I caught just glimpses of their razor-sharp teeth and flaming yellow eyes as they came towards me.

I pulled my fist from the wolf’s throat and a stream of black blood jetted up and splashed Sam. “Get behind me,” I screamed over the throbbing music. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine I would be slaying werewolves while listening to Candyman by Christina Agulera.

The wolves came towards me, circling slowly, while those they had come to be matched with fled to the furthest corners of the chapel. Then, I saw one of the wolves come forward. He was jet black and sleek-looking. His bright yellow eyes stared into mine.

“Oh, Kayla,” he woofed. “I’ve got someone real special for you to match with.”

“I’m not going to be matched,” I whispered, unable to stop myself from looking into his eyes.

“But you haven’t seen who I’ve brought for you,” he barked over the roar of the music.

Then from behind him slinked the most beautiful wolf that I’d ever seen. Its fur was white and shimmered like glass in the strobe lighting. “Who is she?” I asked the wolf.

“The Wolf Man’s intended bride,” the wolf started, and over the blast of the music, I finally recognised his voice. It was McCain. “You are beautiful, Kayla Hunt. And you’ll be even more beautiful once you have been matched with Lola. She will complete you.”

“You don’t understand, McCain,” I said, staring into his eyes. “I can’t be matched like the others. I’m different.”

“And that’s why you will be such a perfect match for Lola,” he woofed, then licked his nose with his tongue. “She is brave and courageous, just like you. She has a spirit that can’t be tamed. Matched together, you will make the perfect bride.”

Then, as if I’d lost control of my own body, I started to walk towards Lola who stood on all fours in front me.

“Kayla, what are you doing?” Sam screamed over the music. “Don’t go to her.”

Although I could hear him, it was like I just couldn’t stop myself. It was as if McCain had control over me somehow. I felt Sam grab for me, and I brushed him aside. I moved slowly closer towards Lola, and it was her burning eyes that I was staring into as she reared up on her back legs and lunged for me.

There was a crashing sound from somewhere in the darkness and more screaming, but it was faint, drowned out by the music and the sound of Lola’s panting as she placed her giant paws onto my shoulders and stared into my eyes. In the flashing lights, I saw her giant pink tongue roll from her jaws and she ran it down the side of my face. It felt warm and rough. And as I looked into her eyes, it was like I could hear her howling inside my head – it was as if she were brainwashing me, taking over my mind.

Suddenly, her howling changed. It was like she was in pain. Lola let go of my shoulders and flew backwards across the chapel. The spell she had cast over me was broken. I looked through the pulsating lights and could see her lying on the floor, a wooden stake sticking out from her side. Then, all hell broke loose.

Chapter Forty-One

Kiera

We had been drawn to the chapel by the sound of the beating music – the screams told us we were heading in the right direction. The gates to the school were locked, and peering through them, I could see several cloaked figures racing back and forth across the lawn. The school with its high walls, search towers, and wide gravel path were just how I had seen it in my nightmare. And as I watched the figures racing around, I knew these were the Greys that Kayla had spoken about. I had seen them in my nightmare too – they had come from the school and had dragged that man back inside. But what or who were they?

There was a grinding sound. I looked right to see Potter breaking the chains that were fastened around the black iron gates. They came away in his claws and clattered to the ground. The music continued to beat in the distance and so did the terrified screams of children. I looked left and Isidor threw open his coat, and with lightning speed, his crossbow was in his hands.

“Ready?” I asked, looking at the both of them.

“I’m always ready, tiger,” Potter winked back at me. Then, he was gone, racing away up the gravel path in the direction of the music and the screaming. His claws glinted in the moonlight and a small part of me pitied anyone who got in his way tonight. I knew that Potter had been frustrated hanging out at the farmhouse, and now that he had the chance to hunt some werewolves, I don’t think anyone or anything could stop him.

I glanced at Isidor, who still stood beside me, his crossbow at the ready. “Let’s get Kayla and then get out of here.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, racing up the winding path after Potter.

I hung back for just a moment, and when they were both some way ahead of me, I reached into my pocket and took out the bottle of Lot 13 that I’d sneaked from Isidor’s supply which he had brought with him to the farmhouse. I unscrewed the cap and brought the little glass tube to my lips. I didn’t want it. I really didn’t – but I couldn’t risk cracking-up if I needed to change into my half-breed form while trying to rescue Kayla. And by the sound of the chaos unfolding in the distance – I guessed that the chances of that were pretty high. So, tilting my head back, I poured the gloopy pink liquid into my mouth. I screwed up my nose at once. It tasted disgusting. How had the others managed to drink this shit? I wondered. It was so bitter in taste, my eyes began to water. Closing my eyes, I gulped the rest down. I placed the empty tube back into my coat pocket and headed after Potter and Isidor.

My feet whispered over the gravel path as I raced forward. I looked down and my feet were just a blur beneath me. This was the first time since returning from The Hollows that I had tapped into those inner abilities that being a half-breed gave me. As I raced forward, it felt incredible to feel the wind against my flesh and my long, flowing hair. Deep inside of me, I understood Potter’s desire to be his true self for as much of the time as possible. Being a half-breed was a rush. Maybe I was finally beginning to accept what I truly was.

In the distance I could see Potter standing over several of the Greys who were now lying on the ground at his feet. Isidor caught up with him just before I did. I looked down at them, their grey robes so tattered and torn, they looked as if they had been put through a paper shredder. The grass looked black and sticky, and I could see that it was blood. Some of the Greys had been decapitated, and their hooded faces lay some way off from the rest of the bodies.

“What happened here?” I said, looking down at the carnage.

“He did,” Isidor said, gesturing towards Potter with his crossbow.

“Why?” I asked Potter.

“They got in my way,” he said.

“But...” I started.

“But nothing,” Potter said, staring at me. “I did them a favour.”

“How do you figure that out?” Isidor asked him, looking at the Greys spread across the grass before us.

Potter reached down with one blood-soaked claw and lifted up one of the Greys’ heads by the top of its hood. Swinging it before him like a lantern, Potter yanked back the hood and I stumbled backwards. The face beneath the hood was hideous. It was grey and wrinkled like a rotten prune. The mouth hung open to reveal a set of yellow-stained teeth. But it was the eyes. It looked like they had been burnt out with hot pokers. There were scorch marks around them, and the eye sockets were deep and surrounded by flaky black skin.

“What’s happened to their eyes?” I gasped.