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

Page 12

by Adrianna Morgan


  The room was austere and white, everything plain. It reminded her of a hospital. It was a poster for minimalist décor; containing one bed, a chair and a table. All bolted down, all made from metal. A sound from above made her raise her head and she cursed under her breath as she noticed the camera perched high above her. He was watching. Kuruk. She resisted the urge to give him the finger. Asshole.

  “Glad to see you’re awake.” Kuruk’s disembodied voice crackled into the room.

  She glared in the direction of the camera.

  “Come on, Layla, don’t be like that,” the voice continued, amused.

  Kuruk was not going to get under her skin; she had better things to do, like find a way out of this hellhole, wherever it was. She took a deep breath, allowing the air to play over her nostrils. It was metallic, stale, but with slight traces of…salt? She sighed. What good did that do her? It simply told her they were probably in Tampa Bay. But where? Not even the metal container provided a clue, not with all the storage places around the city, not to mention the shipyards and ports.

  The Bay was surrounded by water on almost all sides. She could be anywhere. Hell, she could also be in another city, another state that may border the Gulf. She had no idea how long she was out. Who knew what Kuruk could have done to her by now? She shuddered to think of him as another Ray.

  Her lips tightened angrily. How stupid was she? She’d allowed herself to be captured. Again. How the hell was she to help her father stop a war when she couldn’t even stop a few rogue Weres from capturing her every damn minute? It was like she was cursed. Some champion she was turning out to be.

  Dragging in another deep steadying breath, she forced herself to relax, to release the tension building inside her. It would not do to panic. She needed her head in the game. Right now she had three priorities. One. Get the hell away from Kuruk. Two. Find Martin and Brett. And three. Grab her family and make like hell for Alaska.

  Stop Kuruk, Suzette…and Ray, would always be a top priority until the goal was reached and the war was done. But for now, she had more immediate concerns. She flexed her hands and winced at their tenderness. She must have fallen when they shot her. Gravel was imbedded in her palms and they sunk deeper when she involuntarily clenched her hand.

  She wiggled her toes. At least her legs were in working order. She contemplated transforming. If she were to transform, she could heal twice as fast and rip through the metal walls in minutes. She hesitated. Kuruk was not stupid; he would anticipate that move, which meant he had something in store for her. Obviously, he wanted her alive for some reason. That the latest victim had been a message.

  “Did you kill that last girl to tell me about Alaska?”

  Kuruk chuckled over the loudspeaker. “Finally! It was taking you too long to get the Alaska connection.”

  “Why do you want me to go to Alaska so badly?”

  Kuruk chuckled again. “Just trying to help. Trying to make sure that you reconnect with your family. It’s what I do.”

  “Whatever,” she mumbled.

  As payment for getting on her nerves, the least she could do was beat the crap out of him when she got the chance. Her family must be so worried. She had told her aunt that she was going to Orlando to hang out with some friends, but she never said she would spend the night. And after the scare in the woods a few days ago, her aunt and Nali must be panicked by now. This was such a mess.

  “Why would you help me, Kuruk? Family or not.”

  “Why would I not help you, Layla? I’m just an all-around nice guy. Besides, it’s Thanksgiving, the time to give back. I simply want to help.” He laughed uproariously. “And you have something that I want. Something that you have to go to Alaska to retrieve.”

  “It just makes me get it a bit sooner if you get to your destination a bit faster. And it makes it that much easier to get from you when you finally understand what it is. I can’t tell you what it is. The Native in me wants you to have a vision quest to find it.” He laughed again and she snorted.

  Vision quest, my ass, she thought. More than likely, he had no idea what she needed, but had Council intel that her family were in Alaska. Pompous ass.

  “Don’t worry, Layla. You’ll get the answers to all your questions pretty soon.”

  The intercom shut off with a resounding click and the speaker went silent. Kuruk was done with her—for now. She assessed the situation. Small room. Metallic furnishings. She was either in a warehouse or on a boat. A boat would explain the salt smell. And in order to keep prisoners, especially Were ones, the boat must be in an isolated location.

  Either way, it narrowed down the likely places she could be. A boat large enough to contain a Were would not be in a regular marina. Too many people, too many chances of someone noticing. No, they had to be somewhere where large ships were not out of place. Which made the logical choice one of the ports.

  Flexing her fingers again, she started to transform, wincing in pain as the silvery fibers strapping her down cut into her flesh. Kuruk was good. She was too weak as a human to break her bonds, but the Were in her was affected by the silver fibers in the rope. Wait. No, Martin had told her that Weres could touch silver. So, what was it about this fiber that wouldn’t allow her to break it.

  She squinted at the fibers. It was a silvery gray, but a bit darker gray than silver. Her mind raced. Whatever it was, she was not going to be transforming anytime soon. Not with that metal constantly cutting into her skin and burning her. She simply had to wait until they freed her. If they freed her. Then, she would do what she had to do—run.

  *

  Martin paced the parking lot outside of the cheap motel. The police tape had long since been torn down by pranksters. He studied the area, his nose wrinkling as he took in the lingering smells. There had been multiple Weres here. A lot of them. Kuruk’s goons, by the smell of them. Even Kuruk had been there. As well as Layla.

  The room upstairs was a mess. It was obvious that a struggle had happened; beginning upstairs and quickly escalating to the scene in the parking lot. He resisted the urge to finger his knife. It was not smart to brandish a knife at an active crime scene, even though he had been granted access because he had flashed his private investigator badge at the front desk clerk.

  Damn Layla. She was gone and he didn’t have a clue where to begin looking for her. Only a few days ago, he had to rescue her from Kuruk, so her decision was to go to another city a couple hours away to have fun? As if she couldn’t be tracked there? Kuruk probably had someone stationed at that college following her every step of the way. He sighed as he recalled Susan’s panic when Layla hadn’t returned or answered her calls.

  He wondered at these friends she had gone out with. There was only one other scent in the room; a male Were, heavily aroused. Martin’s gut churned in anger. Whatever Layla did was her business, but if that wolf had forced her, he was dead as far as Martin was concerned. He looked around carefully, relieved at the lack of blood…and other fluids, in the room.

  Most of the damage was at the window and the parking lot below. He flashed a rare smile. Layla was a smart girl. She must have pushed the wolf out the window to allow herself time to transform. It was good thinking on her part, although her decision to come her alone was not. But her wolf was easier to track than her human. He scouted the area a bit more, making a mental note of a few hiding places he would have to take advantage of when he returned later in his Were form.

  Tonight he was going hunting.

  *

  The heavy metal door banged open. Layla stared at the Were who walked in, his eyes angry as he looked at her. She waggled her fingers at him, a huge smile on her face, just to piss him off.

  “Hey,” she nodded at the tray of food he held in his hand. “That for me?”

  He slammed the tray on the table.

  “Whoa!” Layla cautioned him with a toothy smile. “Don’t spill it. You don’t want me to have to have a little talk with your boss, do you?” She struggled against her bonds. �
�You know how cranky he gets when he doesn’t get what he wants.”

  The Were walked over to her without a word and grabbed a cord hanging just out of her view. He pressed a few buttons and the bed started to rotate, allowing her to sit up from her prone position.

  “Ooh, adjustable. How fun.” She had wondered how they would allow her to eat and had thought about making her move then, but once again, Kuruk surprised her. The adjustable bed made it possible for her to feed herself without being unbound.

  The Were moved the tray closer and placed the sandwich in one of her hands and a juice box in the other. He smirked as he watched her struggle to hold onto the food and swiftly exited the room.

  Layla was tempted to throw the sandwich and the drink at his back, but she was too damn hungry and the juice would give her the sugar needed for an energy boost. Just in case. She bent her head and awkwardly bit into the sandwich, which was pretty decent, she thought as she quickly chewed.

  Within minutes she wiped her mouth with the sandwich wrapper and sucked on the little bag of juice, then dropped her garbage on the floor at her feet. She was satiated, for now and remained upright after her meal as her gut churned with anxiety. How long it would take before someone came back inside to return her to her original horizontal state? At least now, she could really look around and formulate a plan of action.

  Outside, the heavy clump of boots sounded, followed by the clang of metal against metal. The door opened again and Kuruk stood before her, clad in his traditional black suit. She wanted to roll her eyes, but common sense and nerves prevented her from completing the action. Sure he was badass, but now he was getting to the point where he seemed to be a badass who had watched one too many bad gangster movies. He really didn’t think the police would suspect nefarious purposes when he was on an industrial ship in the middle of nowhere dressed in a suit?

  “Enjoyed your lunch?”

  Layla shrugged. It was good, but why would she tell her kidnapper that? Especially when it gave her needed energy.

  Kuruk waved a hand and a wolf scrambled to pick up the wrapper and empty juice box, depositing both on the table, before he moved back, his hand on his weapon. The older wolf fingered the fibers that ran across her chest.

  She inhaled sharply as his hands came within a hair’s breadth of her breast.

  Eyes taunting, Kuruk raised a brow and laughed humorously. “Trust me, child. You do not have anything,” his gaze raked her up and down, “that I want, except what you will find in Alaska.”

  Layla glowered at him. Asshole. If he would only get a little closer, she could wipe that smirk off his face.

  “I see the potassium has held.” He traced the fiber again. “Such a great deterrent.” He moved away. “I’m sure you know by now, how…uncomfortable it is to transform with the potassium fibers binding you. They cut into your human flesh as you try to change and react rather…interestingly with your blood. Too long of an exposure to the water in your blood and boom!”

  He smiled as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the table. “I hope I haven’t ruined any plans for escape?”

  Layla sighed heavily. Potassium? Like the vitamin? Science was not her strong suit; not that she cared how it worked, but the damn thing hurt like hell when she tried to transform. She would simply have to take his word for it.

  “What do you want Kuruk?” she asked, almost tiredly.

  “What do I want?” he mused. “Well, I want a lot of things; but I will start with your undivided attention. I want to tell you a story, so that you will understand why I am not a man to be trifled with.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “I am sure, by now, you have heard the story of how we came to be. I used to be skeptical of the story, but then again, I can also transform into a wolf, so I think it’s best to be open-minded. It is said that Mai-coh needs to go home. It upsets the balance, blah, blah, blah, having him stuck here.”

  He got up and walked around the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “The only problem is that in order for him to be released, he has to be killed. And whoever kills him will take on his earthly, but still god-like, power.”

  “You want the power.” Layla whispered. It was not a question.

  Kuruk shrugged. “A man in my position would be able to use a few god-like abilities. It would go a long way to solidifying my interests.” He turned to face her.

  “Here is where you come in. In order to kill Mai-coh, a special dagger is needed. Apparently, according to my contacts, that dagger is in Alaska and only the Hania or Spirit Warrior can retrieve it.”

  He smiled and cold trickled down Layla’s spine. “A few of my…colleagues and I believe that you, Layla Donovan, may be the Hania.”

  Layla laughed. “Me? A spirit warrior?” She shook her head. “First of all, I have no idea what the hell a spirit warrior is and I can’t even avoid being captured. So, how the hell am I supposed to be this warrior that can get this special dagger to kill a god?”

  Kuruk glared at her. “Because you are. Because you are Mai-coh’s daughter. Because of the prophecy.”

  “Seriously? Don’t you think that this dude has kids all over the place? From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t tend to put down any roots. What makes you think I’m the one?”

  “You fit the prophecy and the legend.” Kuruk shrugged. “The hair, the eyes. Of all of Mai-coh’s children we have seen, you fit most of all.”

  He walked back to the table and perched on the edge. “You better hope for your sake that you are, because that is the only reason you get to live.” He looked at his watch. “My men will prepare you. We leave for Alaska in the next few hours.”

  His suit barely creased, he moved toward the door. “I suggest you try to get as comfortable as possible. It’s going to be a long ride.” Then he was gone.

  Shit. Panic started in the back of her mind. He was moving way too fast. His cellphone rang and he answered it curtly, barking orders to the person on the other end. Something about plans to set sail before they met up with his private plane at a nearby airstrip. That had to mean they were moving to the neighboring city of St. Petersburg. There was a private airstrip right next to the St. Pete Pier.

  They could easily sail there and transport her to the plane. Once there, she would be trapped until they got to Alaska, surrounded by Kuruk and his men. She may be a Werewolf, but she was not jumping out of a damn plane mid-flight, Hania or not. Her only chance was to escape now. If she waited, then she might have more guards watching her every move.

  If she could pick up on the scent trails, she might be able to count how many Weres were on the ship and that might mean the difference between escape and recapture. And recapture could involve torture or other painful experiences at his hands. She closed her eyes and concentrated, using the skills Martin had taught her.

  Almost immediately, she picked up on the dark gray and red bands which marked Kuruk. He was predictable, moving only to and from a few rooms. She could only hope he was nowhere near the room he used to watch her.

  As alpha, Kuruk’s men boasted scent trails similar to their leader and she quickly sensed the other wolves, their bands mixtures of reds and browns. So far, in addition to Kuruk’s trails, there were only six other Weres on board. That was still difficult odds and she would have to bring her A game, but it could always be worse. It wasn’t like she was trying to kill them, she was just trying to avoid them and get the hell off this boat. Now to get out of her bonds.

  “Hello!” she called loudly to get the attention of the guard stationed outside of her door. She could smell him.

  “Hello!” she called again, determined to be annoying until he answered. She took a deep breath to yell a third time, when the door was wrenched open.

  “What?” her guard snapped. He was new to the crew; at least she had never seen him before and she was quite familiar with Kuruk’s men. It made this a lot easier.

  She sucked in a pained breath. “I really, really, really ha
ve to pee.”

  He looked at her skeptically.

  “Dude, I had like five glasses of wine last night and you guys just gave me a juice box. If I don’t go now, I will pee myself.”

  The guard folded his arm across his ample chest. “Go ahead.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she cried, “I am about to go on myself.”

  The guard turned to walk away.

  “Just think of what Kuruk would do when he finds out you wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom. Especially when I have to pee on myself.”

  The guard paused. She was getting to him. Good. His fear of reprimand from his alpha made him doubt his own gut instincts. Not that it was any of her business; she was simply trying to escape.

  “Honestly, look at the size you and the size of me. Even if I transformed and tried to run, you could catch me in no time.” She sighed dramatically. “It wouldn’t even be worth the risk.”

  The guard looked back at her. “You try anything and I will break your legs myself.” He smiled wickedly. “You don’t need your legs to find the dagger.”

  Layla nodded quickly. “Thank you. Oh my god,” she whined to make it sound realistic as she channeled every drunk, whiny college girl she could think off. “I have to go so badly.”

  “Okay, okay,” the guard muttered. “Just shut the hell up!” He walked up to her. “Try anything and I will fuck you up. You hear me, you bitch?”

  Layla bit her lip in an attempt to appear more desperate and to hide her anger. No use pissing off the guy about to release you. She looked at him as he pulled on a pair of gloves and pulled a key from his pocket. He released the latch that held the fiber across her chest and she held her breath until he released her legs, certain something was going to mess this up.

  He deliberately pushed her towards the door and she stumbled, barely resisting the urge to kick him. They moved down a long corridor and the distinct mixture of salt, water and minerals from the sea outside assured her she was still in Tampa. He shoved her again and she walked ahead of him, stopping short when he grabbed her arm outside of a room.

 

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