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The Lunar Curse (The Ayla St. John Chronicles, #2)
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The Lunar Curse (The Ayla St. John Chronicles, #2)
By | C.J. Pinard
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
DEDICATION
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
By
C.J. Pinard
Copyright 2018 ©C.J. Pinard
Copyright 2018 @Pinard House Publishing
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Cover design by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design
Copyediting: Amabel Daniels
DEDICATION
This is for my friend RyAnn. May you never have a werewolf in your emergency room. Nurses have enough weird shit to deal with.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
This is book 2 in The Ayla St. John Chronicles. As this is part of an ongoing series, you must read The Lunar Effect before reading this book. You can download it here. If you already have, well then, by all means, don’t let me keep you! Happy reading! ~C.J.
“Three things cannot be long hidden: The sun, the moon, and the truth.” ~Buddha
Chapter 1
The Pour House coffee shop was crowded, but I didn’t mind. I sipped on the black coffee I’d ordered, not at all bothered by its bitterness.
As soon as Sanja got her drink, she sat down. I sensed she was fretting over something, so I set my cup on the table and stared at her.
With a little hesitation, she met my stare, and her face crumpled with stress.
Immediately, I sat forward in my chair and reached across the table to grab her hand. “What’s the matter?” I asked.
She didn’t resist me, but squeezed my hand. I remained quiet while I waited for her to speak.
She looked down at her coffee cup, running her finger along the top. “I don’t think I’m going to pass calculus. I just...” She let out a sigh.
“Hate math?” I finished for her.
She nodded. “Yeah, that.”
“Me too,” I said, leaning back and picking up my cup once more. I took a cautious sip. “Change your major to something less science-y. Something in the arts. “
She nodded and looked up at me. “I really should. Less math.”
“For sure. Why did you drop Paranormal Studies?” I asked, still thinking that was, like, the coolest major ever now that I was neck-deep in the paranormal world, and wondered why she had switched.
“Does anyone get a serious job with that degree?” she asked, eyebrow raised.
“Duh, have you ever seen Ghostbusters? Those guys are bad asses.” I laughed at my own joke.
She shook her head. “You’re crazy. They had to start their own business because the college they worked for cut off their funding.”
“Sounds awesome to me! To think... I’m going to be getting a salary now for offing vamps.” I sat up straight in my seat and looked around the crowded coffee shop. Then, lowering my voice, I said, “I’m not gonna lie. Killing off Elda for that weirdo Dean Hobbes—and getting paid—was pretty sweet. Like, addicting.”
Sanja narrowed her eyes at me. “You felt guilty about that.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “I did, but I’m over it now.”
“You’re losing it,” she said, laughing.
“I know,” I replied, smiling wickedly at her. “And I can’t wait to do it again.”
She smiled. “So this is really happening? Evan and Karina are going to pay you as a hired assassin?”
I nodded, feeling bubbles inside me. “Yep.”
“So,” Sanja replied, also lowering her voice as her eyes darted around the shop briefly, “you don’t have a care in the world that you’re actually killing someone... and getting paid for it?”
“Geez, when you put it that way,” I said, feeling like she’d taken the wind out of my sails. “Look, I’m only going to be killing the bad ones. Evan assured me of that. You know I have vampire friends. I know they’re not all bad.”
She lifted an eyebrow at me again over the rim of her cup. “Friends? Like Kellan?”
Just the mention of his name had my stomach turning over... but not in a bad way. The best fake laugh I’d ever conjured came tumbling from my lips as I waved a dismissive hand. “No, like Beckett.”
“Oh yeah, him,” she deadpanned.
“What? You don’t like him? He’s fabulous, just admit it! We all need vampire allies.”
Sanja glanced at her phone, which sat on the table, when it lit up with a notification. Then she put her attention back to me. “Look, just so you know, witches are raised to mistrust every other supernatural out there. We are a tight-knit community. Wolves are regarded as dangerous, but only when provoked, and of course during the full moon. Vampires, we’re taught, are dangerous all the time. They are cunning and cruel, and sometimes lack emotion and only care about their survival with no regard for anyone else. They can be quite frightening.”
“Sounds like most of the American population of humans, if you ask me,” I quipped.
That elicited a smile from her and she shook her head. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”
“Sorry for getting so off-track. So what are you going to do about calculus?”
She blew out a breath and pierced me with her dark, soulful brown eyes. “I don’t see how I can pass. I either pay someone to take the tests and do the homework for me, or I flunk out of it and change my major.”
With the white paper coffee cup paused at my lips, I smiled. “I vote the latter. Screw Computer Science. Get an arts degree.”
She nodded, and almost seemed relieved. “I want to open up my own magic shop anyway, so I think you may be right.”
“Girl,” I said, pushing the coffee cup away, as it was now empty. I put both elbows on the table, “I’m always right.”
She laughed and shook her head. “And so humble.”
Looking around the large, empty gym, I wrinkled my nose, and shook my head. “It stinks in here.”
Karina laughed as she whipped her long, auburn curls up into a messy bun at the back of her head. She wore shiny black yoga capri pants and a fitted black sports bra that showed off her pale, but very flat belly. With no makeup, she was still gorgeous, and I was utterly jealous.
I briefly looked down at my black leggings and the pink zip-up hoodie I’d thrown on before flying out the door. The drive to the downtown boxing ring had been a short one. Dark, with barely any streetlights to guide me, I had managed to find the warehouse where inside a secret boxing gym was housed.
“Women,” I heard Evan murmur as he lifted the rope surrounding the boxing ring and climbed through.
“Hybrids,” I heard Karina reply. “Your sense of smell is half of mine.”
He looked at his wife and narrowed his eyes. “She’s a hybrid, just like me.”
I cleared my throat. “He’s right, Karina. But it still stinks in here, and I’m fairly sure a plain ol’ human girl would say the same thing.”
Evan chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose. Now, let’s get down to business.”
I bounced from foot to foot and smiled. “Yes, let’s do this.”
“First or
der of business... we teach you how to be on-guard twenty-four-seven. You don’t ever want to let your guard down. Like, ever,” Karina said, a gleaming silver knife in her left hand. She had been tossing it between both hands while speaking. “We’re eventually going to get you to the point where you’re going to learn how to kill someone in your sleep.”
My eyes widened. “What? Like in my dreams? Is that a thing?”
Evan laughed. “No, blondie. Like, you get attacked while you’re sleeping. With the weapon you have stashed under your pillow, you’ll be able to kill or wound your attacker even when not fully awake.”
“How did you know I slept with a weapon under my pillow?”
“Well, we were going to have you start, but I see you’re already one step ahead. Excellent,” Karina commented.
Cocking my head to the side, I looked at them both and said, “You’re going to be interrupting my sleep a lot, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes we are,” Karina replied, an amused twinkle in her eye.
“Can’t wait,” I replied without enthusiasm.
Evan cleared his throat. “That will come later. For now, we teach you more basics.”
I looked around the dark, dingy gym. “How did you get the keys to this place, anyway? This looks like some underground fight club.”
“My brothers own the building,” he replied, stoic and serious.
Of course they do, I thought to myself.
“Okay, let’s get started. Since you’ve already mastered the art of flying and jumping, we’re going to move past that and to hand-to-hand combat.” Karina continued to toss the dagger between her left and right hands as she spoke. “This is going to be very important to your survival. You being a wolf-vamp hybrid has given you special abilities that we’re going to help you tap into.”
“Like what?” I asked curiously.
“Like, keen eyesight and fast reflexes. Now, you can’t move as quickly as a vampire—“
Without finishing her sentence, she was suddenly gone and now behind me, her arm around my throat in a choke-hold.
“—but you do have strength,” she finished.
Pissed off she had played me, or so it felt like she had, I dipped my chin into the crook of her elbow around my neck, and I bent my knees. With all my strength, I gripped her arm and pulled forward, using gravity to flip her over my head. I grinned in triumph as she landed on her back. She looked up at me from the mat.
“Hell yeah!” I said, and began doing the running man dance.
With vampire speed, Karina was on her feet, and then I was not. Kicking my legs out from under me, I was the one now on my back. “Good one,” I wheezed out, desperate for air and looking up at her.
“I gave you the first one. Now, all bets are off,” she said, grinning while reaching down and helping me to my feet.
She then got into a defensive stance.
I noticed the silver stake was still in her hand. “Give me that.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Give it to me now,” I said.
She licked her lips and smiled at me. “Come and get it, hybrid.”
Feeling my cheeks heating, the urge to lunge at her was overwhelming, but I somehow sensed that was what she was expecting. So instead, I plastered on a smile that was probably creepy. “Come and stab me, vampire.”
When she lunged at me with her incredible speed, I ducked forward and did a little summersault-flip before landing on my feet behind her. When she turned around, her eyes briefly went wide, and then a smile lit up her face. “Impressive. Where did you learn that?”
“At the Tumble Factory when I was eight. Gymnastics classes, baby.” Thanks, Mom!
“Well, you certainly have excellent muscle memory,” she replied, smiling.
Still in a defensive stance, I said, a little too cocky, “Is that all you got?”
Before I could blink, Evan was in front of me, smiling. He reached around and grabbed my hair, and then wrenched my head back, exposing my throat. He put his mouth near my neck, and I could feel his hot breath there.
Not okay with being bested, I reared my leg back and kicked him hard in the kneecap, and when he let go of my hair and cried out in pain, I gave him a hard shove. He fell backwards, and once he was on his back, I jumped on his midsection, straddling it. Mimicking a knife in my hand, I slammed my fist down on his chest and said, “You’re dead.”
Karina laughed. “She got you, babe.”
Evan smiled up at me. “Yes, she did.”
I got up off of him, stood, and put my hand out to help him up.
He accepted and stood with a smile on his handsome face. “Good job.”
They showed me some more moves, and soon, an hour had passed and I was ecstatic with the new forms and techniques I’d learned.
“Go hit the cardio machines for thirty minutes,” Evan instructed.
I grinned. “You got it.”
Chapter 2
The elated feeling of how well my training had gone quickly deflated as I reached my apartment. Taking the stairs up, my mind began to tire. I’d been training with Evan and Karina for less than a week in the downtown gym—and of course only at night, which was fine with me—and I was proud of the strides I’d taken. Evan had told me I was a natural. He told me to continue to let my need for vengeance drive me. He was right, of course, but I never did tell him that I didn’t need vengeance to be reminded of Austyn and the reason I was so determined to find Linden. I often found myself wondering what I would do after I drove a stake through his heart (I might do it through his head, I haven’t decided yet). Would I quit? Be happy, and go out and get a real job and be a normal girl? I decided that was not something that needed to be resolved right now.
Just thinking about him, and reliving witnessing my own brother’s murder day in and day out always wore me thin. The vampire who had bitten me—had turned me into a hybrid where once before I was just a plain ol’ werewolf—he was going to pay, too. I had committed his scent to memory, and if I ever smelled anything or anyone even close to it, I would kill without thought or question.
I used my key to open the sliding metal door to my sixth-floor apartment and dumped my gym bag and purse on the floor. I went to the window and looked at the orange and white glittering lights of Downtown Denver. This view never got old.
After starting up the shower in the only bathroom in the place, I peeled off my gym clothes and stepped under the hot water, groaning as the water pounded my sore muscles. I scrubbed myself from head to toe, then washed my hair. As I was rinsing out the conditioner, I thought I heard a noise. Quickly rinsing my face in the stream, I then wiped my face off with my hand and opened my eyes. I slowly turned the water off. Standing stock-still, I listened for the sound once more. All I could hear was the white noise of my heater as it blasted through the vents. Perhaps it had made a different noise; this place was almost a hundred years old, after all. I peeked through the shower curtain and didn’t see anything inside or beyond the small bathroom.
I squeezed out my long, thick locks and then secured them into a towel. After wrapping my body with another, I stepped out of the shower and used the flat of my hand to clear off the mirror.
I heard the noise again. It was faint, but it had definitely sounded like a floorboard creaking.
I silently cursed myself for not keeping weapons in the bathroom. I was going to have to improvise. Frantically looking around the small room, my eyes landed on the towel rack secured to the wall. With a quick yank, I pulled the rod that was set between two grooved mounts to the wall. It would have to do. So with my makeshift weapon out in front of me, gripped tightly in my fist, and my heartbeat pounding out a rhythm in my ears, I tiptoed out of the bathroom with the stealth of a ninja. The apartment was a studio, so there were no rooms to check. Once I reached the main living area, I glanced around, and not seeing anyone, I headed toward the front door.
As I reached the small alcove where the door was, a deep male voice said, “Gotch
a,” a split second before I felt arms go around my waist. Instinctually, I bent at the waist and did a summersault while my attacker still held me. He lost his grip, and once I was back on my feet, both towels gone, I stood with my new weapon. I twirled it in my hand before swinging at the intruder’s head with a banshee cry.
Hitting his forearm instead, he howled in pain and then stood up, hugging his arm to his chest. “Goddammit, Ayla!”
Once the rage cleared from my brain, I blew out a breath and blinked. “Oh, my God. Ryder?”
“Seriously, you have to stop being so paranoid!” he said, now fully standing and looking at me, cradling his arm. A lustful grin lit up his face when he saw my nakedness. “How you doin’?” he mimicked a heavy New York accent.
“Bastard,” I growled. I flicked my gaze to the kitchen clock. “It’s three in the morning! What the fuck are you doing sleazing around my apartment?”
He rubbed his arm again, and knowing that the rod I’d held was little more than a hollowed out piece of metal, and along with his rapid healing ability, I added, “And stop being such a big baby.”
“What did you hit me with, anyway?” he asked, going to the kitchen and putting a bag of frozen peas from the freezer on his arm.
“Towel bar,” I said, holding it up and then setting it down. “Now answer my question.”
He sat at my small dining room table. “I missed you. I came by around midnight, after my shift, but you weren’t here.”
I went to my wardrobe and pulled out a tank top and some shorts, and threw them on. Then I found my brush on the nightstand and began combing out my sopping wet hair.
“I was training. It’s what I do on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. I thought I told you this.”
He set the peas down and cranked his elbow back and forth. “I must have forgotten.” Watching me brush out my hair, he came over and gently pried the brush from my hands, and began brushing for me. Looking at me in the mirror, he said, “I haven’t seen you for days. Yes, I wanted to scare you for fun, but I guess I’ve underestimated your paranoia.”