Blood Moon's Fury: A Young Adult Fantasy Thriller (Curse of the Blood Moon Book 1)

by Leah Kingsley

  Justin deflated. The officer turned away and strode to her squad car. Justin stared into space with mingled heartbreak and unease.

  Charles’s heart twisted. Wasn’t there something, anything, helpful he could do? An idea crystallized in his mind, and he yelped with the shock of sudden inspiration. “Wait! I skateboard all the time!”

  “You do?” Justin turned to him, hope sparking in his eyes.

  “No way.” The cop vetoed his idea immediately. “No, no, no.”

  “Yes!” Charles beamed. He was good at this, and he knew it! A surge of excitement sang through his veins. “I’ve even skateboarded behind cars before. It’ll be a piece of cake!”

  Having magical abilities was finally going to pay off. His affinity for the elements would allow him to contort the air around him and shape it into steadying walls of energy to help him keep his balance. He could also alter his risk of falling, tilting the odds in his favor. He used a gentle nudge of magic to attract the angel’s attention.

  She studied him closely, her brilliant deep blue gaze betraying her interest. “How old are you?” She tapped a finger against her chin and assessed his power level.

  “Seventeen.”

  Shadows of doubt flickered in her ocean blue eyes. “You look fifteen. I’m not sending a child to certain death.”

  Charles huffed out an indignant breath.

  “He’s a friend of my sister’s.” Justin swiftly backed him up. “He’s in Amy’s class. He is seventeen.”

  Charles held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I can do this. Just give me the chance.”

  “But what if you get hurt?” Her gaze flicked nervously between the two boys. She was tempted, Charles could tell.

  “What if my sisters die?” Justin asked.

  Thirty-five

  PETER STRUGGLED WITH Zack as Nathan hurled Amy into the back seat. Her eyes sparked with pain at the jarring impact. Peter gritted his teeth, barely biting back a protest. Treating a girl that way, let alone one with Amy’s injuries, made him want to slam Nathan through a wall.

  A white-hot streak of pain flashed behind his eyes. He stiffened, his mind rebelling against the invasion. Alex’s eyes bored into his, the warning clear in his soulless, stormy glare. Peter’s stomach clenched. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. He tensed every muscle in an effort to regain control of his thoughts. The pressure broke, and mind-numbing calm enveloped him. He smoothed his expression and slowly unclenched the fists he had curled at his sides. His anger dimmed, doused by swirling rapids of guilt. There was nothing he could do.

  He shook his head to clear it and scooped Susan into the trunk. Ash struggled with Zack. Alex pulled the gun on Susan and Zack sprang into the car. Peter had to hand it to him, Alex knew how to manipulate people. Threatening a nine-year-old would make any self-respecting person back off. Alex and Ash dove into the sedan, Alex into the back and Ash to the driver’s seat. Peter tore around to the passenger side.

  “Go!” Nathan screamed. “They’ll be here any second!”

  Tires screeched as they squealed onto the road. Peter glanced over his shoulder to check on Amy. Nathan and Alex had her pinned against the back seat. She struggled with the ferocity of a caged animal. It took both guys to keep her still and cover her mouth at the same time.

  “Tried to pull a fast one on us, eh Amy?” Nathan sneered.

  “Yep.” Her eyes gleamed with triumph. “It was a piece of cake outsmarting you losers.” A sharp exhalation of air hissed from her lips as Alex pressed a hand to her injured ribs and pinned her against the seat.

  Peter’s gut clenched. She had gone too far. Sassing back was as much a part of Amy’s personality as total control was a part of Nathan’s. Nathan’s eyes blazed with fury as he slapped her across the face. She endured the first two slaps without a sound. Nathan swore in frustration and punched her in the mouth. Amy sobbed. She tried to yank one of her hands free, no doubt to throw a punch herself, but Alex held her still.

  Peter stared at them, mute and unblinking, as if watching the scene on TV. But he couldn’t change the channel; he couldn’t turn it off. The violence was real, and he was a part of it. He had caused the angry red marks on Amy’s face, the blood at the corner of her mouth. Bile burned his throat with self-loathing.

  Alex grabbed Amy’s chin and jerked her face toward him. “Maybe that’ll teach you to do what we say from now on.” He flexed his fingers, crushing her face in his grip. “Next time it’ll be your sweet little sister who’s punished for your mistakes.” Alex waited for Amy to react, but she stayed silent.

  “Got that?” Nathan gave Amy’s shoulders a jarring shake.

  “Yes,” she said through clenched teeth. “Please don’t hurt my sister.”

  “Your sister,” Alex spat, “is lucky to be alive.”

  Blood roared in Peter’s ears. He ground his jaw so hard it hurt. He turned in his seat to face them, his expression hard, his gaze unflinching. “That’s enough.”

  Alex’s eyes widened a fraction. “Shut up, Jenkins.” He slapped her this time, leaving another angry mark on her cheek.

  Amy was crying now, her tears spilling from her eyes to flow freely down her face. They were beating the strength out of her. Waves of guilt and revulsion battered Peter’s soul. “I said that’s enough! Leave her alone.”

  “I told you to shut up!” Alex’s face contorted with fury. His eyes bulged as if he had gone mad.

  “We were supposed to have been done with this by now.” Peter lowered his voice, trying to keep his cool.

  “We would be if she stopped messing everything up. We’ll have to end it a few hours from here.”

  “When are you going to let my sister and Zack go?” Amy whimpered.

  “Shut up!” Nathan slammed a meaty fist into her temple. The force of the blow sent her sprawling across Alex’s lap. He shoved her away, and she landed in a heap on the floor.

  The scene played out in slow motion, splitting Peter’s vision into several still snapshots. Amy on the floor. The guys laughing above her. Amy raising her arms to protect her face. The dread knotting in his stomach was achingly familiar. It plunged him back into a memory laced with pain.

  Amy vanished. His sister cowered in her place. She clutched a doll to her chest as their father loomed over her with a baseball bat.

  “Dad, I’m sorry! It was an accident! I never meant to break the vase!” She gazed up at him, her blue eyes misty, her pale lashes wet. After all this time, Julia still hoped for mercy.

  “Dad?” Peter hovered in the doorway. His father had had way too much to drink, and their mom was working the night shift. There was no one around to help. Peter was small for ten and no match for the seasoned gangster.

  “Go back to bed, Peter!” His father swung toward him, bat in hand.

  Panic lodged in Peter’s chest. Julia’s desperate pleas followed him as he fled. He halted in the middle of the upstairs hall. He had to do something! He considered a lamp, a heavy picture frame. The gun in the safe? No, never again. His pulse pounded in his ears as he wiped his sweaty palms on his pajamas. He tiptoed back downstairs with no weapon and no plan. His dad glared down at Julia and swung his bat.

  Her screams echoed in Peter’s ears as everything rushed into focus. The speeding car. The gangsters in the back. The girl on the floor. Crunch. His fist connected with Nathan’s broad nose.

  A stunned silence blanketed the group in shock. Amy gazed at him with mingled astonishment and adoration. Nathan sat up with blood pouring from both nostrils. “Jenkins. Outside. Right the hell now.” He tilted his head back and pinched his nose to stop the bleeding.

  “Are you nuts?” Ash took his eyes off the road to stare blankly at Nathan. “What about the cops?”

  “Pull off the highway!” Nathan roared, spittle flying from his lips.

  Ash’s eyes grew round and wide. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “We’ll be arrested! Settle this later.” Peter gaped at the first sound piece of advice Ash had e
ver given.

  “Are you questioning my leadership?” A vein popped out in Nathan’s neck.

  “Nope, your sanity.”

  Nathan’s face reddened. He set his mouth in a snarl and wrapped his hands around Ash’s throat. “Do what I say, or Alex and I will have a little chat with your precious girlfriend,”

  Faced with endangering Lara and the possibility of being strangled, Ash swerved onto the next exit and threw Peter an apologetic look. Peter shrugged one shoulder. Nathan had a volcanic temper that ebbed after an hour or two. Ash had hoped to help by giving him time to cool off. Peter doubted any delay would matter. He had crossed a line, and there was no going back. At least this time he had done something to stop the abuse.

  Thirty-six

  AMY EYED PETER with concern. He and Johnson were exchanging matching dark looks as if each wished the other nothing but ill. Alex watched them with a satisfied gleam in his eye while Ash drove recklessly down an abandoned logging road. Peter’s face was rigid, his mouth set in a grim, determined line. He could take any of the other gangsters one-on-one, but the others would back Johnson. Peter was out of his depth and by the tense set of his jaw, he knew it. Amy’s gut clenched, guilt snaking through her stomach. Why had he risked so much over her? The guy barely knew her.

  She peered out the window in hopes of finding help hot on their heels. Thick, dense forest closed in on all sides without a single soul in sight. It was the perfect spot for their medieval duel.

  “Right here,” Johnson said, jerking his thumb toward the roadside. Ash pulled over to the shoulder, and Johnson and Peter climbed out. They stood at the edge of a steep, rocky ravine.

  Peter sauntered around the sedan with his hands in his pockets. Amy admired his composure. Johnson was in no condition to fight, but Alex was ready to intervene on his leader’s behalf. He was leaning forward in his seat, his eyes tracking Peter’s movements like a hawk watching its prey.

  Amy shared a troubled look with Ash. Alex had it out for Peter. He had made that abundantly clear since the toolshed. What if he still intended to kill him? Peter’s defiance would have given Alex the perfect excuse. Amy sucked in a breath, her heart freezing in the wake of a horrifying thought. Had Alex orchestrated the showdown to do away with Peter? He had an uncanny affinity for warping situations to suit his needs. Nausea swirled in her stomach, rising ever higher in swoopy, lurching loops. Was that the truth bubbling forth or another symptom of her concussion? She shook her head to dislodge the silly notion. It was pure paranoia. Johnson was the one furious with Peter. Alex merely delighted in violence.

  The door she had been slumped against was wrenched open, and she nearly spilled onto the ground. Her stomach lurched. She sucked in a tight-lipped breath of icy air and managed to quell her nausea.

  Johnson towered over her and shook a meaty fist in her face. “Get in the back with your boyfriend.”

  “What are you going to do to him?” She pressed two trembling fingers to her bleeding mouth. Johnson’s face made her want to retch again.

  “Amy, stay out of this,” Peter said with quiet intensity. His green eyes sparked with urgency as he darted a pointed look toward the trunk.

  Amy crawled onto the seat. Alex slid open the partition and shoved her headlong through the gap. The door slammed behind her with an unnerving clunk.

  “Amy, your face!” Zack was instantly at her side. “What the hell happened?”

  She beat her fists against the wall. Johnson had stopped her from watching the fight. Her terror tripled in her mind and built into a crescendo of white noise. The worst crimes happened when there weren’t any witnesses. She crawled around Zack and squinted through the tinted window.

  “Amy?” Zack’s voice was low and urgent. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Shh.” She put a finger to her lips and strained to listen. She pressed her ear to the glass and held her breath.

  A gunshot split the silence. A flock of startled birds burst from the treetops. Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “No!” she screamed. “No!”

  She crouched paralyzed in place, her body rigid with shock. Terror surged through her veins, even as her heart froze in her chest. Her blood thundered in her ears and threatened to deafen her. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream. A single thought pierced her blanketing horror. She had to get to Peter. She shook free of her debilitating terror and scrambled back to the partition. She beat her fists against it and screamed profanities at Johnson.

  He appeared, smiling smugly with blood on his shirt. Amy sucked in a breath that made her chest catch fire then let loose another bloodcurdling scream. She couldn’t do this again. She had already caused her baby sister’s death, now she was responsible for Peter’s? She recoiled and smacked her head against the window.

  Johnson locked his thick fingers around her wrist. He yanked her toward him and smeared her hand through the blood. “His life is on you, Evans. You got somebody killed.” He cracked her skull against the window and slammed the hatch.

  Amy stared at Peter’s blood. The wet red streak glistened crimson against her skin. Her stomach twisted along with her heart, and her soul splintered on a silent cry. She crawled into a tiny crevice of her mind and shrank from the world. You got somebody killed. His words echoed in her head. All Peter had done was protect her, and it had cost him his life. The sedan sped forward, leaving behind the body of a boy who had tried to do the right thing.

  Amy’s mind reeled as if she had woken in the night to a thousand wailing sirens. She sat crouched on the floor, stunned and bleeding, crying harder than she had ever cried in her life.

  Strong arms encircled her and tucked her against a warm, solid something, Zack’s chest. Amy choked on a sob. She didn’t deserve comfort. All she exceled at was hurting those she loved. Her river of tears soon soaked through Zack’s cotton shirt. He held her close as she poured out her grief, his arms a fortress of strength. She came apart in those arms until they were all that kept her whole. Zack cradled her shattered pieces and refused to let her go. She buried her face in his chest and clung to him like he was the only lifeline she had left.

  “It’s okay, Amy.” Zack stroked her hair. “I’ve got you, I promise. We’ll figure this out.” His words rumbled deep within his chest, close against her ear. “You need to take it easy, okay? You’re making your injuries worse.” Callused fingers brushed her cheek as he gently wiped away her tears. “You have to stop crying or you’ll cause internal bleeding and die.”

  That was good. Serenity blanketed her grief. She took a shuddering breath, and agony scorched her heart. Death would be a welcome end.

  Thirty-seven

  ZACK CRADLED AMY in his arms, anxiety swirling within him like spinning, icy rapids. How was he supposed to keep it together without Amy? She was the toughest girl he knew, and she was falling apart before his eyes. She hiccupped, and a spasm of pain rippled across her pretty face. His heart squeezed. She needed a doctor. He stared at the dark stain of blood Johnson had smeared on her hand, questions battering his mind and sending his thoughts into a tailspin. Had Nathan shot Peter? Had they witnessed a murder? When would this end?

  He glanced at Susan, who sat frozen in a far corner of the trunk, her pinched, worried face bathed in muted predawn light. He took in a cut on her chin and harsh red bruising around her lips. Rage coursed through him and boiled his blood. The little girl had gone through more horror tonight than most experienced in a lifetime.

  “Sue?” Zack tried to keep his voice calm for her sake. “It’ll all be okay.”

  She nodded numbly, doubt evident in the dove gray depths of her gentle eyes. “What’s wrong with Amy?” She wrapped her arms around herself as if frightened at what he’d say.

  “She’s just upset. She’ll stop soon.”

  “Zack?” Her voice trembled. “What’s going to happen to us?” Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes.

  He chose his words with care. “I’m not sure yet. But we’ll figure it out, I promise. Everything
will be okay.”

  She nodded, determined this time. He turned back to Amy and looped an arm around her waist to help her sit up. The less pressure against her ribs, the better. A squeal from Susan carried over Amy’s hysteria. “Zack! Come here, quick!”

  “What is it?” He propped Amy between the wall and his shoulder, hoping she would be able to breathe easier in that position.

  “It’s that kid from the bus stop!”

  “Huh?” Zack gently released Amy and crawled across to Susan. She was peering out the back window, her eyes alight with excitement.

  Zack stared at the scene below him, his jaw slack and his eyes round. Charles Banks was balancing precariously on a skateboard, clinging to the sedan’s rear bumper for dear life. He grinned at Zack and flapped a hand at him.

  “He wants you to break the glass!” Susan exclaimed.

  Zack motioned for Charles to duck and slammed his foot into the window. Splintered pieces tumbled to the pavement in a waterfall of glass.

  “Hey!” Charles shouted. “Got room for one more?”

  “Banks!” Zack said. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m saving your butt. Now help me up!”

  Zack met the shocked gaze of the driver in the silver Subaru behind them. He mimed holding a phone to his ear, hoping the guy would call the police.

  “Zack!” Charles said, irritation lacing his tone. “I can’t hang around all day!”

  “What if he grabbed this?” Susan held up a length of rope that had been used to tie them up.

  “Too wiggly. He’d fly into traffic. Will you stay with Amy while I help him?” Susan crawled to her sister’s side and slipped her hand into Amy’s. Zack took a deep breath and leaned out the smashed window. “Grab my hand.”

  Charles stretched to grasp Zack’s fingers. A foot of empty air separated their hands. “I can’t reach! This isn’t going to work.” Fear clouded his gaze.