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

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Maikoda: Power of the Moon (Blue Moon Trilogy Book 2) Page 3

by Adrianna Morgan


  She walked away and missed the look of shock on Brett’s face.

  *

  Martin stared at Layla as she walked into the room. “Everything okay?”

  Layla stopped in her tracks and sighed before turning on her heel and walking away. Even though she was being rude, she was getting tired of everyone asking her if she was okay. She was okay. There were only so many ways she could say it. She wasn’t naïve enough not to know that Martin had most likely eavesdropped on her conversation with Brett, the same way she knew he wasn’t afraid to let her know that he had.

  Walking outside, she sat on the steps leading to the farmhouse, allowing the cool breeze to enter her lungs. Perhaps being cooped up here was what was driving her crazy. She wanted to get out, to let her wolf run…to do something. Instead, she had to hide. Hide like a coward while Suzette healed and recruited more Weres to her side. Deep down she knew this was their best course of action; too many Weres were looking for her. She had to stay safe until she was able to harness her Gifts and fight, but it still reeked of cowardice and it felt like they were doing nothing but waiting.

  The hesitant step on the wooden deck made her look up and she braced herself as her aunt sat next to her. The older woman reminded her so much of her mother that sometimes Layla felt as if the other woman was back in her life. Her aunt’s blonde hair had grown longer over the past month, becoming wild and free, and, Layla thought, starting to look like her mother’s.

  “They only want to help, you know,” Susan’s voice was soft as she spoke. “They both care for you and they want to protect you.”

  Layla sighed and nodded. “I know, but it is so frustrating to have everyone ask if you’re okay all the time. Yes, I was attacked. Yes, I was almost killed. And yes, I found out about my father. But since I can’t change any of it, I might as well accept it. And I have.” She looked over at her aunt. “If only everyone else could too.”

  Susan rubbed her arms at the sudden breeze which picked up at Layla’s outburst. “Cherish these moments, Layla. It could be worse. They could not care about you at all.”

  “Well, it could always be worse.” Layla quipped, but smiled nonetheless. She got her aunt’s point and while it made perfect sense, she was just antsy, wanting something to happen. Pulling her legs to her, she wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin atop her knees. Her eyes never left the line of trees as she spoke.

  “Everything is so complicated now. A few months ago, I was just trying to get my college degree. Now…well, you know.”

  Susan ruffled her hair similarly to the way Layla had ruffled Nali’s earlier. “When your mom died, everyone around me asked for weeks how I was feeling. It annoyed me to no end.” She paused, lost in her memories.

  “It was the same when my children were killed in that car accident. I wanted to clobber the next person who asked me if I was okay. How could I be okay when my children had just died? How could I be okay when my baby sister had been murdered?” she shrugged. “But as pissed as I felt, I knew I would have felt worse if no one had cared to ask at all.”

  Layla pondered her aunt’s words. “I’m not okay,” she said finally, the admittance feeling like a weight removed from her chest.

  Her aunt nodded. “I know.”

  She looked back at the woman who had raised her after her mom had been killed. “You know?”

  Susan patted her arm. “Honey, I’ve been there, remember? I know that no matter how many times you say, ‘I’m okay’, when it comes to death, you’re really not.” She smiled softly. “You just want some time to yourself to figure things out. It’s part of our nature. We Donovan women are an independent lot.”

  She patted Layla’s arm again. “Unfortunately, we tend to pick men who want to coddle and protect us. Gets annoying really quickly.” She laughed and stole a quick glance towards the house.

  Layla glanced back as well. She didn’t see anyone, but Martin could hear them and was probably listening. Brett’s powers were more limited, but if he was in the living room, he could certainly hear every word that passed between the two of them.

  “I guess the problem is that now I don’t know what to do.”

  Susan nodded as Layla continued.

  “Last month, it was all about finding and stopping Suzette. That was the purpose. That was our goal. I knew what I had to do. No matter what else came up; school, issues with my job, even you and Nali, the main goal was to stop Suzette.” The words seemed to tumble out of her mouth as all her insecurities came to the surface.

  “Now, we don’t know where Suzette is, we don’t know if she is still a threat, we have no idea who’s been hiding her and unless Alaska has shrunk in the past few days, I have no idea where to find my father.” She took a deep breath and slowly stretched her legs. “Everything is so up in the air.”

  “It’s all so confusing because there is no concrete plan.” Susan’s hand was warm and comforting hand on Layla’s back.

  “Exactly!” Layla exhaled slowly, a bit perturbed at her adolescent outburst. Before she could apologize, her aunt chuckled.

  “Think of it this way. We are waiting. That’s the plan. Sooner or later, one of the feelers Martin has put out will make a connection and you will definitely have lots to do then. So for now, let’s focus on work, school, and you finishing your classes. You may not think they are worthwhile now, but it’s something to do to keep you focused and it could be something to fall back on when all this is over.”

  Layla scoffed at the idea. Work and school were the furthest things from her mind, but her aunt was right. It would give her something to do, something to occupy her mind and bide her time. She did need the money. She was tired of living off Martin and although his funds were considerable, she wanted her own.

  Besides, she was almost done with school. A few more months and she would not have to worry about it any longer. She would have her degree, although chances were that she wouldn’t even be able to enjoy her degree. After all, she was basically a dead werewolf walking if it were up to Suzette and Kuruk.

  Commencement was in a few months and all she had left were the classes she was currently enrolled in. At least the school had given her an additional week off for bereavement after her friends and co-worker had been killed by Suzette. But still, she would have to double her efforts in order to graduate on time. She sighed and looked back at her aunt.

  “How are you so okay with this?” Susan knew nothing about Weres and for her to be so understanding that someone like Suzette was after her was just crazy. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to share that part of her life, she just didn’t want her aunt in any more danger than she needed to be.

  The older woman chuckled. “Honey, I’ve been on this earth long enough to know that there are just some nutjobs out there. This woman killed your mom and then came back for you but without proof we can’t bring the police in.” The wind whipped through the trees again as if echoing her frustration.

  “So, if the only way to get this bitch is through Martin, then that’s what we have to do. Even if we have to wait to do it.” She patted Layla’s knee and stood up.

  Even if we have to wait. The words reverberated in the air. Sometimes life really sucked.

  *

  Brett was propped against the window, a thoughtful expression on his face, when she entered their room after her talk with her aunt. Her mind was awash with the words spoken by the other woman. She was worrying too much. Perhaps that was why she was having such problems sleeping and such horrible headaches. Silently crossing to the bed, she sat down, waiting for him to talk, somehow knowing that he wanted to say something to her.

  Her bitchiness earlier was inexcusable and even though she wanted to apologize with every fiber of her being, the words seemed stuck. She glanced at her nails, the short tips bare and chipped. Her finger caught as she ran it across one of the tips and she played with the broken nail as she tried to find the words to say to him.

  She looked up at his sigh. His eyes b
ored into hers, the wood from the window sill firm against his back. They roamed over her face and she kept her expression blank even as she knew what he would see. Heavy circles under her eyes, limp hair damp from sweat, her skin sallow with worry.

  He wanted her to trust him, to confide in him. But she couldn’t. Even as she told him how much she loved him, she could not let him in. The words wouldn’t come. Everyone she had ever loved had left her and she could not bear it if he did too.

  The look on his face told her so much more than his words ever could. He felt like an outsider, someone she’d just met instead of the man she was in a relationship with. He wanted her to want him. Not only in her bed but in her heart. Like she was in his.

  “What?”

  Layla jerked back from her thoughts as Brett finally spoke. Where had that come from? How was she able to know what he was feeling? It was as if she was able to sense his deepest desires for her and it was unnerving how real it felt. As if she was really picking up on his emotions.

  “Nothing.”

  Brett snorted. “Really? Nothing?” he straightened abruptly, angrily, and Layla was suddenly pissed at his attitude.

  He wasn’t the one who was bending over backwards; she was sacrificing her entire life for a war that was never hers. Martin and Brett had come into her life and turned it upside down in a matter of days and he was acting like he had a problem with her?

  “Do you even still care about me?”

  She closed her eyes to put a check on the sarcastic response threatening to fall from her lips. “I do care about you.”

  “Doesn’t seem like it.”

  This time she bit her lip to stop herself from snapping and causing an argument. She took a deep, cleansing breath.

  “I do care about you Brett; it’s just that I don’t want to talk about my feelings every second. It’s not like I am holding back from you.” She stood up and walked over to him. “I love being with you. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have to ask that question. You would know.”

  She gave him a small smile she hoped was convincing. Did she still want to be with Brett? Maybe—yes, she corrected herself. She loved him and she wanted to be with him. She just couldn’t tell him and truth be told, it wasn’t him. It was everything that was going on right now; it was causing her to have so much anxiety that her head was starting to spin. But Brett was her anchor. She needed him. More than ever.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her body to his, relishing his quiet strength even as her mind reeled. He remained stoically against the window sill, stubbornly crossing his arms. She chuckled and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips at his silent challenge. He remained still as her lips caressed his and she loosened his arms to slip between them. Immediately, his hands held her hips and she smiled against his lips as he started to kiss her back. She shivered when Brett’s hands moved up her body to frame her face; holding her still as he rained kisses over her eyes, nose, and finally back to her mouth. Breathing hard, he leaned his forehead against hers.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  She smiled wistfully, hating herself for her doubts about him and his role in her future and felt the familiar warmth in her chest as his hands continued to roam her body. She wanted him. She needed him. Her hands found the hem of his T-shirt and she started to lift it, only to stop when Brett’s hands stilled hers.

  “We can’t,” he said when she looked at him questioningly.

  “What?”

  He smiled at her ruefully. “As much as I really want to right now, we can’t. House full of Weres and all that. Someone is going to hear.”

  Layla nodded. Right. House full of Weres. Although she could give two shits if all the Weres heard them.

  Brett grabbed her before she could turn away and pressed another series of kisses hard on her lips. “So you don’t forget me,” he joked.

  Before she could reply, she heard her name and then Brett’s on the wind. “Martin wants to see us.”

  He frowned, kissed her again and unfolded himself from the window, his long legs graceful as he moved across the room.

  “Be good,” he warned as if sensing the direction her thoughts were taking. “We have to see Martin and you know he has an excellent sense of smell.” He stopped and glanced back at her with a smile. “No use in getting either of us worked up.”

  Nodding, she followed Brett as he walked back into the kitchen. The little area functioned as their meeting room, so it was no surprise that Martin was seated at the table with a cup of coffee in his hand. It was still midmorning and the sun was shining brightly through the curtains.

  She smiled lightly at the older man, her way of an apology for her earlier actions. He had most likely heard her conversation with her aunt and she wanted to let him know everything was as okay as it was going to be for now.

  Eyebrow arched, he pulled an envelope out of his pocket before she could sit.

  Layla stared at the simple white missive and looked questioningly at Martin, curiosity getting the best of her. “What is it?”

  He sighed. “The details are inside, but it is a summons. I was hoping it would not come to this.”

  Brett frowned. “A summons? From who? For what?”

  Martin shook his head grimly and looked from Brett to Layla. “It’s from the Werewolf Council. Layla is to stand trial for the killing of Wattan.”

  ~*~

  Chapter 2

  The chill of the November night blew steadily against Layla’s face as she followed Martin across the deserted parking lot. She was going on trial. For self-defense. Martin had tried to explain to her what to expect, but he had also admitted that he was not too sure what to make of it all. Certainly Suzette had allies in the highest echelons of the Council, but making Layla stand trial for an act that was obviously in defense against attack had been beyond anything he’d ever seen in his years as a Council member.

  She shuddered to think of what it could mean if she was found guilty. Brett, as a human, was not involved in matters of Were nature, but Layla was subjugated to the rules and regulations of the Council. And that meant to the fullest extent of the law.

  Pulling her jacket tighter around her shivering body, she looked up and pasted a smile on her face as Brett squeezed her hand. She took a deep breath as they neared the door of an older office building; a front for the network of tunnels that ran underneath. Even in a state as flat as Florida, the limestone bed resulted in soft rock, which had allowed the Weres, over eons, to carve out a system of tunnels and hidden rooms for various purposes.

  The building itself was nondescript. To an outsider, it was just another in a long line of older warehouses that were abandoned or being refurbished. There were no armed guards to hint at the beehive of activity inside, although Layla sensed it was well guarded.

  They opened the door and immediately she noticed the four transformed Weres hidden in the shadows, blending in so well that she was only able to identify them, at first, by smell and a dark blurry outline. They remained completely still as she and the others walked by; only their heads moving, following her group’s every move.

  Martin led the way through the darkened warehouse to a section in the far corner near the offices. They entered into a seemingly random room and he stopped and then pushed against a section of the brick wall which gave way to a set of stairs. While the building itself was in major need of repairs, the stairwell was quite modern and obviously well used. The stainless steel glinted in the soft glow from a bank of overhead lights.

  Layla stepped in behind Martin and Brett brought up the rear. They walked down the stairs until they came to a long hallway. Without hesitation, Martin took a left and led the two towards a set of double doors far into the interior. The modern amenities continued.

  The walls were decorated in a dark oak and pictures of past and present Council members adorned the spacious area. A picture of Martin wearing a suit made her smiled and then she stopped short as she noticed a photo of Kuruk, sans scar ov
er his eye.

  Turning to her, Martin gave a wry smile as he spotted the photo she was viewing. “We have to keep moving. They’re waiting.”

  Nodding, Layla found Brett’s hand again before continuing the trek.

  The doors loomed in front of them, large and very intimidating. She sensed the other Weres moving about. This would not be easy. They probably wanted to crucify her. After all, she was the daughter of their god, but she had refused to pick a side in their war, until now. Brett kissed her knuckles and she gave him a weak smile.

  Martin pushed open the door and a hush fell over the group already gathered inside. It was almost exactly how she had pictured it. Along the far wall sat a Were she assumed was the leader of the Council. A long, black robe covered his suit and two heavy gold ropes hung around his neck. To her left sat a group of three men and three women, clad nearly the same except their necks only boasted one gold rope, significantly thinner than the ones worn by the leader.

  She did a double take as she noticed Kuruk staring down at her, a smirk on his face, as he fingered the gold rope around his neck and she swallowed uneasily. He was going to make her pay for Wattan’s death. She wondered if he had already swayed the rest of the Council against her. Not that it mattered. What was going to happen was going to happen.

  Ignoring him, she continued to peruse the room. To her right sat the galley; Weres of all shapes and sizes squeezed into the chamber, all staring at her as she stood in the entrance with Martin and Brett.

  “There she is.”

  “It’s her. Mai-coh’s daughter.”

  “She is the one who killed Wattan.”

  Layla closed her eyes against the whispers as her throat seemed to close up.

  “Relax.” Martin whispered, although she knew every Were in the room could hear.

  The head of the Council looked at Layla and banged the gavel clasped in his hand. The room immediately quieted again. He peered down at her, his attempt at intimidation successful, especially since Weres had excellent eyesight. She held his gaze steadily, refusing to show fear of any kind.

 

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