Tala

by Adrianna Morgan

  Tala (Wolf)

  Blue Moon Trilogy: Book One

  Adrianna Morgan

  Copyright 2011 Adrianna Morgan

  Cover photo © Ivan Polushkin at Fotolia.com

  Cover photo © tomalu at Fotolia.com

  Cover photo © Valua Vitaly at Fotolia.com

  All rights reserved. This E-book is licensed only for your personal enjoyment. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotations in printed or online reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Please visit me at adriannamorgan.com for more on the Blue Moon Trilogy!

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  It wasn’t as if Layla hadn’t been here before. But still she took a deep breath before moving further into the room. She inhaled the musty scent given off by the dusty tomes stirred up by procrastinating students trying to finish last minute papers. Her skin felt clammy as she walked and she wiped her sweaty palms onto her jeans. Her research paper was due soon and she had yet to find a topic. She couldn’t afford to not pass this class, all her money was tied up in school and she needed the credits to graduate this year. She moved to the farthest corner of the room, seeking privacy. Two students looked up as she passed then dropped their heads wearily back to the books they were reading.

  She felt the skin on her neck crawl as she set her backpack down on the old wooden library table. Someone was watching her. Layla took a deep breath before she twisted around and looked behind her. She had chosen this back corner of the library to study because it was secluded and quiet, but now she regretted her choice. It felt eerie. Like something was not quite right. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the curtain across the room flutter close. Someone was definitely watching her.

  Layla pulled her chair out and sat at an angle, her back to the wall and her legs facing the large room. She was now able to see whoever emerged from behind the heavy drapes that covered the floor to ceiling windows of the Gulfport College Library. She hoped it was a friend playing a prank and not some pervert, but this had a sinister feel about it. She pulled a few things from her backpack slowly, her movements calculated, all the while keeping an eye on the curtain and the mysterious watcher. She took another deep breath to steady her nerves. Maybe she was overreacting, she thought, maybe it was just a breeze or a mouse. Old places always felt creepy, but since she was kid and had watched her mother die, she always trusted her gut instinct. Still, she could feel the person behind her, watching, waiting. She grabbed her stapler. Better to be safe than sorry, her aunt Susan always said.

  *

  Brett stood back in the shadows and watched the tall, willowy brunette as she looked around. She seemed nervous, he thought as he noted her anxious movements. She grasped the books in her hands and slowly pulled them from her backpack, still looking around. Brett smiled. She was pretty hot but he doubted her powers were developed enough to allow her to sense the intruder lurking in the corner. He knew what she was. And he knew why they were watching her. It was the middle of the fall semester and in a few months, at the New Year’s full moon; she would be at full power. He needed to get to her before they did. Good thing he had an ace up his sleeve; she was his class mentor.

  Layla heard a sound next her and whirled around, easily rising out of her chair, stapler in attack mode. She stopped short when her eyes met those of the lanky young man standing in front of her.

  “Whoa!” he laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “If I’d known you were that deep into your books, I wouldn’t have bugged you.”

  He held out his hand. “I’m Brett. Brett Guzman. I’m supposed to be your new mentee. Gateways Transitioning class? For new students?”

  Layla frowned, ignoring the hand. He shrugged and put his hands in his pant pockets. “Were you watching me just now?” She asked. “Like standing behind a curtain watching me?”

  He looked at her, his head tilted to the side as he studied her. “You think I was watching you? What am I, a stalker?” He laughed again. “Lady, you have some serious problems. Like I don’t have anything else to do on a Thursday night.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, and Layla’s eyes followed the brown of his hand to the black of his hair. His hair was really black. Not dark brown or so dark it looked black. It was black, but it didn’t look as if it were from a bottle. It fell to the top of his ears, silky strands of ebony. She watched the lights reflect of the shiny surface as he shook his head incredulously. She took in his laid back attire; jeans and a T-shirt, which seemed to match his easygoing attitude. She let her eyes linger on his well-formed chest enhanced by the slightly too small shirt then moved to his face. He was cute, she thought, much better looking than her last mentee, but still young. She studied his face. Well, younger than she was. His green eyes laughed back at her as he caught her staring.

  Shit. She looked away quickly, humiliation burning her face. She did remember a vague conversation with her professor about a new student. He had to switch mentors and needed to get caught up with the program details. She’d said she would help him and had told her professor where she normally studied. Everyone knew she worked at the school. All this guy had to do was look her up in the campus directory and he would see a lovely photo of her. Damn. Now she felt like an idiot, for both staring and freaking out.

  She cleared her throat. “Sorry about that,” she mumbled, reaching out and grabbing his hand in an awkward shake. “Layla Donovan.”

  Brett held back laughter as he saw the emotions flicker across her face. She had sensed the wolfman lurking in the corner. That was pretty advanced stuff for a fledgling who had never even transformed. Brett was impressed but also concerned. If she was that good without any training, what would she be like if they managed to get their hands on her? He thought about the destruction a powerful Were could do, but if she were trained, it could be much worse. He managed to wipe the worried look from his face before she noticed.

  He looked down at their joined hands, surprised at the jolt of electricity that went through him as their hands met. He cleared his throat before carefully pulling his hand away. “Yup. Brett.”

  He flopped into one of the chairs, folding his long body into the low comfy seat. “So, Layla, who-thought-I-was-stalking-her, how are we to get through this Gateways Transitioning class with all of this tension between us?”

  Layla laughed, easily recognizing his attempt to put her at ease and downplay a really embarrassing situation. “Well,” she said as she sat across from him, “the best way is simply to start.” She reached over and placed a huge book in front of him. “We’re reading pages 476 to 603. Then we have to create a PowerPoint presentation on the information.” She watched his eyes widen in alarm.

  “Are you serious?!”

  She smiled and reached for a much slimmer book. “No. We’re reading this.” She winked at his surprised look. “Gotcha.”

  The rest of the evening went by in a blur as Layla discovered more about the man that she was to spend time with. He was 26 and a full-time student. He had recently moved to Gulfport from North Carolina and was still ge
tting used to the really warm summers. He had to switch classes because he had to switch shifts at his job as a bartender. Layla listened as he talked; the deep baritone of his voice somehow comforting. She didn’t pretend she wasn’t attracted to him; she most certainly was. But she was also good at hiding her emotions and not mixing business with pleasure. And besides, he was younger than she was. She stared at his eyes again. They really were quite beautiful and made her relaxed somehow. But no matter how comforting Brett was, she still had the uneasy feeling of being watched and kept glancing at the curtains. They hadn’t moved, but she was not convinced. It all felt so odd. She shook off her doubts and willed herself to concentrate on the task at hand. She explained the program to Brett and handed him his first assignment, before settling back into her chair and pulling out her highlighter to work on her own readings.

  *

  The old man with the tattered coat kept still. It was clear that she was the one. She had been able to detect him when no one else had, which in itself was a remarkable talent. He wondered what she would be like if her talent would have been able to blossom. He sighed softly. No matter. She was too powerful. He couldn’t allow her to fall into Suzette’s hands. He should have killed her all those years ago, but he could not bring himself to harm an innocent so young. He had hoped she would be one of the lucky ones. Sometimes those with the Were gene never developed their powers because it was too weak, the blood was too diluted. But she had been strong even then. Her line was a powerful one. In his world, powerful meant dangerous.

  He steadied himself, his pulse a slow beat as he used his powerful sense of smell to scan the area around him. They were all human. With two exceptions; the woman was definitely a fledgling and there was another scent, not a fledgling. Something he couldn’t place; couldn’t remember. He was thoughtful. This was a new development. He would have to follow the young male she was with. He could be a minion of Suzette. And that was not a good thing. He needed to bide his time until he could figure out who else he was dealing with. He eased himself slowly along the wall until he came to a nook behind the curtains between two columns. With a slight bend of his legs, he jumped straight up onto the second floor. He landed silently on the balls of his feet and clutching his coat tight around him, ran down the stairs and out the door.

  *

  Layla was sure she heard a sigh coming from the drapes. She had tried to ignore what she was certain was her imagination until she heard the sigh. She held up a finger to quiet Brett. “Did you hear that?” she asked, cocking her head to one side.

  Brett looked at her. How had she heard that? It had almost slipped by him. He was about to investigate when he’d sensed the Were had left.

  “Hear what?” He asked, feigning a lazy, relaxed pose. He watched as Layla jumped up and ran across the room to a section of drapery in the corner. She ripped back the drapes. He shook his head before walking over to her and grinned as she growled softly in frustration. Maybe he could find some way to get her mind off her frustration. He felt his pants get a little tighter as he thought of a few acts that would distract her. He would not mind volunteering. She was hot. That golden skin, rich brown hair and her eyes. A man could drown in those and not even care that he was dying. Brett shrugged. But if he didn’t convince her before she was recruited, then she would be the enemy. And no matter how hot she was, she would have to die.

  Layla turned away from the windows behind the drapes slowly. She looked over and saw Brett’s arched eyebrow and blushed. Damn. She probably looked like a lunatic to him right now. What a great way to start a partnership. She must be losing her mind. But it sounded so real! She knew she heard a sigh. She knew she did. She bit her lip as she resigned herself to facing Brett after looking like a fool. Nothing new, she thought. She’d been making a fool of herself for years now, starting with when she was ten and had told the police that a werewolf had killed her mother. Nothing was the same after that. No matter, she thought. She walked over to the table and without looking at Brett, started packing her things.

  “Um, I think we should call it a night.”

  *

  Layla walked the few blocks from the college to her apartment. She trudged up the stairs, her mind in turmoil. She knew she had heard something behind that damn curtain. She sighed as she started to open her door and stopped. Something was not right. She felt as if she were being watched again. The same creepy feeling she’d had in the library. She wasted no time rushing through the door and locking it behind her. She threw her backpack onto a couch and turned on the lights, half afraid that someone could be in her place. She double checked the windows in the living room and made sure she had locked the door behind her. She took a deep breath, allowing the relaxing techniques she had learned in therapy to wash over her as she sank into her bed. She kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs, as she breathed in and out, trying to find a calm place within. She was almost there when she was jolted out of her trance by a frantic knock on her door.

  Layla ran to the door and looked through the peephole carefully. Experience had taught her to not open the door without looking first. She spied her neighbor’s girlfriend, Tami, on the other side. She sighed and opened the door as Tami raised her hand to knock again.

  “Geez! I thought you were never gonna open the door!”

  Layla eyed the small, bottle blonde, a mixture of cigarettes and perfume assaulting her nostrils as Tami breezed through.

  “Can I use your bathroom? I really have to pee and Derek’s not home yet.”

  Without a word, Layla waved her towards the bathroom and sat on the couch, her arm resting on her backpack as she waited. Tami and Derek had a love, hate relationship—right now they were on the love part. Layla didn’t mind having Tami around, in fact, with the exception of Derek, who was a total asshole, Tami was the only person her age in this apartment building. Being older, Layla was classified as a “mature” student, which made her seem old as sin to the other students. Her apartment building was full of college students; she included, but most were in the eighteen to twenty-one age range. This made it hard to sleep some nights when there was a party, and she had to be up extra early for work. The only problem was that Tami and Derek fought so much; it was hard to forge a friendship of any kind. She massaged her temples as Tami bounced back into the living room.

  “All done!” she chirped, her little girl voice overly loud in the quiet room. “Thanks by the way. Normally I would have just gone into Derek’s apartment, but it got broken into last week and he had to change the locks. He forgot to give me a key.” She said as she moved towards the door. She stopped and turned around. “Hey, do you think I could hang here for a minute, just until Derek gets home?”

  Layla groaned inwardly. She wanted—no, needed sleep and now she would have to stay awake until Derek decided to get home.

  “Sure, no problem,” she said as she silently screamed no. Tami smiled and sat down on the second couch as Layla reached over and flicked on the TV. It was the only nice thing in her living room. Her couches were a Goodwill buy, her coffee table from a yard sale and everything else, she picked up when students at the college were moving out of the dorms and needed to get rid of stuff. She handed Tami the remote and watched her surf through a couple of channels before finding a comedy she liked.

  It seemed like a lifetime before Layla heard Derek’s heavy boots as they clumped up the stairs. Tami smiled, mouthing “thank you” as she jumped up and ran out the door. Layla happily closed the door, locked it again and headed back to her bedroom. This time, she decided to take a hot bath. It would hopefully relieve the stress of the day, the tension of the library and the annoyance of Tami. She ran the water as she unpacked her backpack onto the coffee table. She still had a few chapters to read for her Psychology class before she could go to bed and she could just do that after her bath. She’d read somewhere that if you studied when relaxed and before you slept, you retained the information better. Right now, especially with her grades, she needed to reta
in as much information as best she could.

  Layla undressed quickly, lowering herself into the hot water. She moaned as the water sliced over her skin, its heat melting away her stress. She folded a towel and put it behind her head as she laid back, her knees covered in soapy foam. Her eyes closed and her thoughts, instead of focusing on her developmental biology class, inadvertently drifted to Brett. He really was good-looking, she thought, with his dark—black—hair and green eyes that seemed to see right into her. She remembered the way he’d looked at her, a hungry yet mysterious glint in his eyes. He had an aura about him that drew her to him and she wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t interested in looking for anyone right now, so she didn’t understand why she seemed so taken with him. Normally, she was able to resist even the most valiant of suitors, but even though he hadn’t made a single move, she could not stop thinking about him. She ducked her head under the water, not quite erasing him from her mind. Get a grip, she thought, before willing her mind to focus on other things. She quickly bathed before wrapping a towel about her body and wet hair and heading to her bedroom.

  Four hours later, Layla closed the book she was reading and put away her notes. She still had a book report and presentation to complete the next day. She rubbed her eyes sleepily as she walked to her bedroom. The digital clock on the bedside table read 12:30 am. She set the alarm for eight the next morning and sat heavily on the bed, twisting her long hair into a ponytail as she absently looked around the room. It was not as comfortable as it could be; she thought looking at the mirror adorning her plain white walls and books lined the floor and foot of her bed.

  She sighed as she heard the tell-tale knocking against the wall she shared with Derek. She reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the allergy medication she kept on hand that also worked as cheap sleeping pills. She swallowed a few before slipping under the baby blue comforter, a gift from her aunt. Layla snuggled underneath the plush softness, the cool air from the ceiling fan drifting through her room. She was asleep in less than ten minutes.