Maikoda: Power of the Moon (Blue Moon Trilogy Book 2) (9 page)

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Chapter 4

              Layla’s hand trembled as the dark Were walked towards her. Kuruk tilted his head to the side as he approached. 

              “Nervous?” he smiled arrogantly.

              She held herself perfectly still as he neared. This was it; she would not live to see another day. Kuruk wanted her dead and he wanted her afraid. But she would be damned if she gave into her fear, even if it killed her.

              “I’m not going to kill you, Layla,” he said, almost as if he were reading her mind. He smiled again. “At least not yet. You have something I want.”

              Layla snorted, mustering up false bravado. “Yeah right. I bet you say that to all the ladies.”

              Kuruk laughed. “I must admit, I am surprised at your tenacity. You were really ready to take on three of my best.” He looked around at the Were holding the stump of his arm. “Well, two of my best.” 

              He flicked a hand and the Weres surrounding him pounced on their injured friend. Layla kept her eyes on Kuruk even as she listened to the snarl, snap and crunch of the Weres as they disposed of the inferior warrior. She flinched and closed her eyes briefly as his howl was cut short with a gurgle when his throat was ripped out. 

              Kuruk waved a hand absently toward Layla. “Come on,” he said with a grin. “He deserved it. I cannot have someone in my organization so obviously…impaired.” 

              The harsh breathing of the girl near the ravine changed her focus and panic and fear clouded the girl’s eyes. She looked back at Kuruk and raised her head defiantly as one of the Weres dragged the girl kicking and screaming towards the group, her fingers clawing at the werewolf who pulled her along the cold ground. 

              Subconsciously, Layla moved toward her, only to stop when Kuruk wagged a finger.

              “Now, Layla. You don’t want to get involved in this messy business. She knew the risks when she agreed to help us.” He waved a hand towards the pair.

              Layla clenched her fists as the Were pushed the girl to Kuruk. He grabbed the struggling human by the hair and lowered his lips to her neck, transforming impossibly fast and dragged his fangs across her throat. She was dead before the scream could leave her lips, the arterial spray shooting across the open space. 

              He transformed back just as quickly and Layla weighed her options. Kuruk was fast, but she was fighting for her life. She could take him even if it meant her death.  Of course, she wouldn’t be able to take on all of them, but she could take that asshole out with her. She curled her lips as her fangs descended. 

              Kuruk chuckled. “Think you could take me, Layla?” he asked, smiling through the blood staining his teeth. 

              “That would be fun. But unfortunately, you can’t beat me.” He laughed again, mania in his eyes. “You’re not strong enough.”

              She looked around her quickly. He was right; she couldn’t beat him, not alone. He had also been thorough and had blocked off every possible means of escape, which confirmed that they had been scouting.  Even as fear flooded her heart, she prayed they had been near the house.  If they had, then it was a possibility that Martin may have picked up on their scent and followed them here. 

              It was a long shot, but Martin was just as thorough as Kuruk was. He would follow up on every lead—and he knew Layla was on her way home. Her cellphone vibrated. Already her aunt was calling. It was just a matter of time before Martin showed up looking for her. 

              Kuruk stared at her purse on the ground. She could see it in his eyes; time was running out. He could still kill her outright, but he said she had something he wanted. She had no idea what, but that information could keep her alive.

              He could take her with him. He had enough men to do so, but she would fight hard to avoid it and could die in the process or fight long enough for reinforcements to show up. Or he could let her go. Letting her go would irk Kuruk beyond belief. But if he truly needed her alive, it was the only course of action he had.

              Her phone vibrated again. Her aunt was starting to panic. Good. Reinforcements would be here soon. She looked at Kuruk and smiled. He glared at her and her grin grew wider. The other Weres looked around in confusion. Whereas Suzette’s minions had some intellect, Kuruk’s goons were all muscle. They had no idea about the silent power struggle between herself and Kuruk.

              She crossed her arms and tapped her foot as she ignored the pain that shot through her shoulder. “Time is ticking, Kuruk. You have a decision to make. You can waste time and kill me like you did those other women and never get what you want, or you can wait around for Martin to get here.” 

              “And who knows who he might have with him.” She smiled again and resisted the temptation to add something about Martin bringing someone from the Council, but decided to use that threat later, if she had to.

              Kuruk clenched his fists before visibly forcing himself to relax. “You have the luck of the devil,” he smiled at her, his eyes cold. “But even devils eventually get their due. And you will belong to me, Layla Donovan. You will be mine.” 

              He stepped over the body of the young pickpocket and walked toward her, his face close as his temper flared again.  When you least expect it, I will come. When you step out of your hole, I will be watching. When you take a breath, I will be right there. And I will not stop until I have you in my grasp.”

              Layla recoiled from the smell of the blood on his breath and the venom in his words. She was confused as to what he wanted with her. Why he and Suzette seemed so interested in her.               Curiosity warred with common sense and she wanted desperately to find the answers she sought, but she was barely escaping as it were and she did not want to piss him off even further.  He might kill her simply from spite. 

              He turned away, then stopped suddenly and she frowned. His head raised, his back stiff and he looked in the direction that Layla had come from less than an hour before. She took a deep breath. Martin. Kuruk was tense; his body well controlled, but tension lurked beneath his easy smile as Martin slipped out of the trees behind one of his goons.

              “Kuruk.”

              The Were jumped as Martin materialized behind him.  He spun around, but the older Were simply grabbed him and wrenched him apart before he could defend himself.

              Kuruk sighed and held out a restraining hand to his other goons. “I wish you could have picked someone else to dispose of so callously. He was actually a pretty good fighter,” he said without remorse. “So, you have come for your little lamb. Keeping her away from the wolves, for good measure.”  He looked back at Layla and smiled. “We would eat her up.”

              Wordlessly, Martin motioned for Layla to walk towards him. She grabbed her purse, moving towards the older Were, as growls and snaps emanated from Kuruk’s men. 

              “Layla?” 

              She looked over at Kuruk’s call. He stood in an opening between a few trees, his dark skin shadowed, his eyes glittering in the failing light. Hate radiated off him as he stared at her, his lips curled into a smile that did not reach his eyes. She thrust out her chin.

              “Do not forget what we discussed.”

              She shivered as he and his men melted into the darkness of the trees and let out a relieved breath. 

              Martin looked down at her. “We are not safe yet.” 

              He picked up the crumpled body of the young woman and moved her closer to the woods. Working quickly, he filled her clothing with rocks and used her shoe laces to tie a particularly heavy rock to her body, then moved her towards the edge of the ravine, where he pushed her in.               

              A loud splash and bubbling were all that remained of the girl as she sank beneath the water. Martin watched for a few minutes to ensure that she was submerged and then pulled Layla toward the trees opposite to where Kuruk had disappeared. 

              She transformed back, shivering again as the wind whipped through her torn clothing. Her arm throbbed and she winced as it accidentally brushed against a protruding tree branch.               Martin stopped and ripped a piece of material from her tattered jacket and even though her arm was on the mend, tied it tightly around her shoulder, forming a temporary sling. She clenched her teeth to avoid crying out and released the pained breath on a slow hiss. 

              Blood still seeped out of the wound as Martin moved her away from the safe house. They did not need to give Kuruk any more reasons to go near her family. He had already gotten too close as it was. She trudged behind and stopped as they exited the woods into an abandoned gas station. Cracked concrete chocked with weeds stood between them and the warmth and comfort of Martin’s truck. She climbed into the warm cab and pulled out the first aid kit from under the seat before she removed the container of baby wipes from the back seat and cleaned her hands. 

              “How did they find you?” Martin asked, releasing a tense breath.

              Layla bristled at the tone, even though she knew she was probably the weak link in the group. “I don’t know. Maybe they followed me from school.”

              Martin nodded as he started the truck. “Yeah. That could be it.” He pulled out into traffic and deliberately drove perpendicular to where the house was located. They couldn’t trust Kuruk not to have followed them, but driving in the opposite direction could also make the house easier to find. Kuruk wasn’t as dumb as his men. 

              He would send some of his men in the direction they went and send some in the opposite direction. So, perpendicular it was. Martin took a few deep breaths and Layla touched his arm in thanks. It was a good thing she was close to home and had stuck to her regular route.  It made it easier for Martin to quickly track her and save her from Kuruk and his horde. 

              Wiping her bloodied hands with the wet wipes, she grimaced and closed her eyes. The blood was stark against the white of the wet pieces of cloth and a piece of white bone stuck out near her shoulder. Martin looked at her and swore silently, then quickly pulled over ignoring her surprised look. 

              “Damn it, why did you not tell me that you were hurt this badly?” He leaned over and wretched the bone into place, the severity of the pain and the speed of his actions silencing her. It was like her arm was ripped from her body and the pain was so overwhelming, she could not even scream. It was all she could do not to pass out. 

              She shook her head weakly as Martin took out the needle and thread. As weak as she was, she could not handle being sewn up now. Her head spun from blood loss and shock, her body shaking as each tremor jarred her shoulder even more. He swore again, grabbed a handful of butterfly adhesive bandages and quickly applied them after wiping away more blood that had seeped through. 

              “Much better,” he said. “But don’t move around too much. This will have to hold until I can find a place to sew it up or cauterize it.” 

              Layla’s eyes widened at Martin’s words. Cauterize? Her eyes glazed over as the world started to tilt. The last thing she saw was Martin as he reached for her.

*

              Brett sat across from the woman who had given birth to him more than a quarter of a century ago. She looked older, he surmised. And tired. Her once luxurious dark hair had started to gray and her dark eyes were shadowed. In the eight years since he had seen her, she had aged about twenty. 

              He held the coffee mug tightly in his hands, the warmth of the liquid spreading through his tired limbs as he listened to the howl of the wind outside, the November air especially chilly.  It might snow, he thought briefly, although it was unlikely in November, but times were changing and polar vortexes were making their way further south each winter. He cleared his throat, almost apologetic when his mother jumped at the sound. 

              “Mom?”

              She sighed, her own hands wrapped around a mug similar to his. They trembled and shook when she lifted the mug to take a sip. 

              “It’s good to see you.” The words fell from Brett’s lips. It was harder than he had thought it would be to speak to her. His mother had always been stubborn, but at least he had been invited into the house. She had even made him a cup of coffee. That was an olive branch if he had ever seen one.

              A quick movement of the mouth and the flash of white teeth against darkened lips was all that hinted at a smile. It was gone in an instant. “It’s good to see you too.”

              Brett felt torn. There were so many things he wanted to say. He wanted to apologize to her for being an ass as a teenager; to confess that he was hurt when she had withdrawn after his father’s death. He wanted to tell her about Suzette and Mai-coh and admit that he may have found the one in Layla. 

              So many thoughts bounced around inside him, he almost burst. Yet, none of the words seemed to want to come. No one wanted to be the first. He took another sip of his coffee as the silence stretched between them and he lowered his eyes.