*
Layla met Martin at the Tampa museum. A former hotel turned part-university, part-museum, the building stood near the heart of downtown. She had parked her car in one of the reserved spaces, not caring if she got a ticket or not and hurried down to the water’s edge to meet him. She saw him across the grass near a thicket of trees and shrubs cared for by a local nursery. He seemed to blend into the landscape, his cropped grey hair and dark green jacket a perfect complement to the copse of trees dripping grey-green Spanish moss. He turned as she approached and she felt her heart catch in her throat. She had missed this ornery old man. He was the closest thing she’d had as a father in a long time.
“Here okay?” She asked, setting her bags on the grass a few feet to the side, under the shade of the trees and sat down.
He nodded gruffly then moved to sit her.
Layla opened her bag and took out a bottle of water. It was the end of the year and while some states were seeing the changes fall and winter brought, here, the leaves were still green and the sun was still warm. She took a few swings before turning to Martin. He looked old, she thought. Even older than she’d seen him. His weathered face seemed more lined, aged, as if he’d seen more in the few days that he’d been gone that he’d care to admit. His eyes were shut and she thought she heard a quiet exhale as he visibly relaxed.
“So, Suzette is up to her old tricks again.”
Layla continued to study him. It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement. She waited.
“Whenever her threats don’t work to sway a new recruit, she destroys their lives, ensuring they have nowhere to turn but to her.” He looked at Layla, his grey-green eyes probing.
Layla laughed a short, humorless sound. Well, it’s working.” She leaned back on the grass. “She has my life all fucked up already. Even put it on tape, just in case no one noticed.” She plucked a blade of grass. “Why me, Martin?” she asked softly. “Why me? I’m no one special. Okay, yeah, so I’m Mai-coh’s daughter, and he is supposedly a god, but there has to be more to it than that. He has other kids. They were the original Weres. I mean, really? Why hurt me? In fact, for being the daughter of the god of all Weres, you’d think I would get more respect from the Weres. You’d think they would be afraid of my father.”
Martin reached over and touched her shoulder. “The Weres of old still respect your father, Layla.” He cleared his throat. “It’s the new breed. They think we’re like the European werewolves, that we need to drink blood and kill. But we can live among the humans. We are human. Just a little bit more…enhanced. The younger Weres think that Mai-coh is a fairytale, a ghost. It didn’t help that he did nothing to stop the start of the war, so many of the younger Were simply believe he doesn’t exist.”
Layla laughed again. “Well we know that’s not true.” She spread her arms. “I’m living proof. And so is Brett.”
Martin frowned. Her boyfriend was living proof of Mai-coh? “How is the young man tied to Mai-coh?”
Layla hesitated. It was not her place to give away Brett’s secrets, but Martin was becoming more of a father to her that anyone else. “Apparently Mai-coh saved his life. Suzette tried to kill him years ago and Mai-coh gave him some of his own blood to live. He has a blood bond or link or something to him.”
She watched Martin’s eyes light up in interest. “I already asked and he doesn’t know where Mai-coh is.”
Martin digested this latest bit of news. The boyfriend was a part of Mai-coh. The blood link was what he had smelled that day in the library and that day in the alley. He was linked with the god of all Weres. This was why he was able to talk to Martin that night. It was incredible. Blood links were rare. Most of the ancient Weres didn’t have them, because it did make them vulnerable. If the enemy got their hands on someone blood linked with Mai-coh, they could eventually track him down. And although he was a god, on Earth, he was mortal. Killing him would send him back to the otherworld and he wouldn’t be able to interfere with what happened here on Earth. He would be gone forever. And the Were that killed him? Well, there was a perk or two for them included.
“Does he know the extent of his powers by being Mai-coh’s blood link?” He asked.
Layla shrugged. “I think he has a pretty good idea about the reach of his powers. He seemed pretty confident that he wouldn’t lose in a fight against a Were.” She leaned over and plucked another blade of grass. “Although, I had the feeling he wasn’t telling me everything.”
Martin nodded silently. He had the feeling the young man wasn’t telling her everything as well. He knew Suzette. If she’d left him to die, she’d done a pretty thorough job of making certain he would die. And that was not an easy thing to forget. Or forgive. The thought of what the young man must have endured made him wince. Suzette was not known for her subtlety. She’d been one of his most efficient assassins until she had been seduced by the promise of power. She had never been one to share even then and less so now.
He was doing everything he could to stay one step ahead of her, but he could feel her closing in fast. The fact that she was willing to do anything for money allowed her to cultivate vast resources when compared to his own paltry wealth. And she was getting stronger. Layla needed to be ready to deal with Suzette when the time came. And it was going to be soon.
Layla was right. There was more to her than anyone was telling her and she would have to find out on her own. It was not his place to tell her about her role in the upcoming war. Nor was it his place to tell her about Brett. In time everything would be sorted out. He hoped.
He cleared his throat again and switched subjects. “Tell me about the Weres that attacked you in your apartment.”
Layla sat up. The image of the two werewolves that attacked her was still fresh in her mind. “They were thinner and meaner than the two Suzette had with her when she attacked me.” She pointed to the scars barely visible to the naked eye, but she knew Martin would be able to see them. “This was my gift from them.” She showed him her arms and neck. “The arms? Also a gift, but the bruises on my neck were done by Suzette.” She shrugged. “I can’t seem to stay on the right side of the Weres.”
Martin peered at the vertical lines running down her face. “Anything else you can tell me?”
“Well, there was the brand.”
Martin’s eyes shot to hers. “What brand?” He asked, trying to keep his voice even.
Layla thought back to the weird brand burned into the flesh of the two werewolves who had attacked her. “I’m not sure, but it looked like a bear and a wolf.”
“Was the wolf sitting in front of the bear?”
“I think so,” Layla said slowly, before looking at Martin. “You know who it is, don’t you? You know who sent those two after me.”
He sighed and nodded. “Kuruk.”
*
Layla stared at the man on the computer. Kuruk Johnson. A man with a past. After Martin had supplied the name, she’d done what every woman did to a man they’d just met. She Googled him. Apparently the leader of a werewolf faction also had a Facebook page and Twitter. There were also a few Youtube videos, but she wasn’t sure how reliable any of that was. She also got the idea that Kuruk was pretty powerful. You didn’t put your shit on the internet for anyone to find unless you were confident that no one could get to you. She had Facebook but her photos and information was private and reserved for her friends. This man did not care.
He looked normal, she thought. He was average height, had a head full of dark hair and the requisite green eyes. He had a small scar that ran the length of his left eyebrow before finally veering into his hairline. He looked mean. She didn’t get this information from his networking sites. This was straight from the Sherriff’s website. She was staring at his mugshot. He’d been arrested multiple times for extortion, for drugs and…she squinted. Intimidating a federal witness. Shit, he was a badass. She was screwed.
She printed out the page she was viewing and closed the browser. Martin had hinted yes
terday that she should leave Kuruk to him. She had the feeling that there was some history between the two, but she didn’t get a chance to pry. Martin had kinda shut down after that. She walked into Brett’s bedroom and stuffed the information about Kuruk in her purse. She needed to have it on hand, well, just in case. She hadn’t seen Brett since the day before, after he’d confessed his “dirty little secret” to her. He’d called her to tell her that he was at work and had to take care of a few things before he came back. And although she’d asked, he didn’t elaborate. All the cloak and dagger stuff was really starting to get on her nerves.
She heard the chime of the doorbell and used her senses to determine the identity of her visitor. She did not want a repeat of Tami and she definitely did not want a repeat of Kuruk’s goons. She allowed the smell of her guest to wash over her and walked resolutely to the door as she recognized the dark green and gray of Martin’s scent. She’d forgotten their appointment. She opened the door to see Martin standing outside. His eyes probed hers.
“Did you use your senses to scan before you opened the door?”
Layla rolled her eyes before walking away, leaving the door open for Martin to follow her. She walked over to the couch in the living room and sat in the far corner. She was in purgatory. She had been officially released from her lease, and although no charges were brought against her because she had the police report of the mugging, she was not given a “loaner” apartment. Everything that belonged to her was currently occupying Brett’s apartment. It gave it a lived in feel.
Martin stood facing her in the kitchen, once again playing with his knife. What was it about boys and their toys? The image that conjured up scared her and she put a lid on her errant thoughts. She did not want to think of Martin in that way. She cleared her throat. “So what’s up? Are we going after Kuruk or what?”
Martin eyed her. “We are not going after anyone. We need to practice using our powers so that we can get better at it.”
Layla rolled her eyes. Trust Martin to be able to speak fluent sarcasm. She wiggled on the couch to find a better position, and then closed her eyes taking a deep breath. “Okay Sensei, teach your young grasshopper.”
Martin frowned before leaving his stance near the countertop to sit next to her on the couch. “Layla, how were you able to survive your attack?”
She opened one eye. “Which attack? Remember, I felt the love of both Suzette and Kuruk.”
Martin nodded. “Kuruk.”
“Ah,” Layla was silent for a moment as she gathered her thoughts, then looked up at him. “Well, I remember running…a lot. I was able to dodge and get out of the way.”
Martin shook his head. “Layla, I saw the damage in your apartment. Those claw marks had power behind them. You couldn’t have simply dodged.”
Layla frowned. “But I did. I mean, I tried to Transform and kinda got a half-assed version of it, but I was able to move very quickly and I ducked a lot of his blows.” She pointed to her face, “But as you can see, I wasn’t always successful.”
Martin nodded thoughtfully. “You tapped into your Were strength. You didn’t even know how to use it, but you tapped into it enough to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” Layla scoffed, pointing to her face again. “This is not safe. This is ‘she-doesn’t-know-what-the-hell-she-got-into-and-wishes-her-life-would-go-back-to-normal’. This is not safe.” Safe. The man was out of his mind if he thought that she’d been safe in that apartment. Her life before now had been safe; her major, her job, even her car. Now, she was running for her life at every turn. There was nothing safe about this life.
Martin watched her carefully. “Layla, as much as you hate it, this is your life now. You have to learn to deal with it. It’s going to get better but it won’t change. You can’t go back to being the Layla you were before. Your path was determined a long time ago. Nothing you can do will change that.”
“Great. Just fucking great.” Layla laughed. “Amazing how my life was picked out for me; no one asked, no one cared; just here you go. This is your life, deal with it.”
“Now you are just being melodramatic.”
“Damn right I am!” Layla took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She could feel her animal at the surface and she knew she was starting to lose control. She took another steadying breath. “Look, let’s do this before I change my mind.”
Martin nodded. “Then let’s get started. You already know a bit about Sensationism, which is using your senses. Suzette showed you Transformation.”
Layla raised an eyebrow. “Transformation?”
“Yes, because we already have to shapeshift in a way to Transform, we can make subtle changes to our bodies. We can look like almost anyone.” He shrugged, “It has its uses, but can’t really fool other Weres because each Were has a unique scent. You can recognize each other by smell. But it has helped us in the past.”
“Now that is really cool.” Layla was impressed. “I can look like anyone?”
Martin shook his head. “Well, not anyone. There are limits. In the video, did Suzette look exactly like you?”
“The hair!” Layla exclaimed.
Martin looked puzzled.
“She looked like me except the hair. It was still her long, straight blonde hair.”
“Right,” He said as understanding dawned. “It takes a lot to use Transformation, and it can be effective. But in order to use it properly, you have to know its limitations.” He stood up. “Watch.”
As Layla watched, Martin’s face became less lined, he grew slightly shorter and thinner and his hair was less grey. In the space of a few minutes, Layla was staring at Alex Trebek in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a tattered olive green jacket. And he had close cropped hair.
“You have to know the limitations,” fake Alex told her.
She grinned as Martin changed back. “You couldn’t change some things, like the hair.”
“Not just the hair. You can’t change sex, you can’t really change race and you have a range you can use for age.”
“So you can’t look like Colin Farrell?”
“Who?” Martin asked.
Layla waved a hand at him. “Nevermind.” She nodded. “So Suzette was able to look like me, but not completely.”
“Right. She couldn’t change her hair, nor could she change her height too much. Of course, the more powerful the Were, the more they can look like you.” He looked over at Layla. “Like I said, it does come in handy.”
Layla jumped up from the couch. “So I can look like Suzette? How?”
Martin looked up at her. “Think of the person you want to emulate. But thinking about what they look like is not enough. You have to think of how they would act in a situation, you have to think of their mannerisms and their behaviors. The closer the bond, the more similar the look. Concentrate on this and you can use Transformation.”
Layla closed her eyes. She thought of Suzette’s cool, blonde looks. Then she thought about how cold and calculating the other Were was. She remembered being with her in the alley and how Suzette had held her throat and how she’d laughed at Layla. She could feel a strange sensation in her body, almost a humming and she heard Martin encouraging her.
“That’s it, Layla, keep concentrating.”
She thought about the kind of person Suzette would have to be to leave Brett lying there in that motel almost dead and she thought of the woman who killed her mother. She remembered how Suzette had walked over her prone body and dipped her fingers into her mother’s blood before licking them clean. She could feel the coldness descend on her.
“Open your eyes, Layla.”
She opened her eyes and looked at Martin. He had a smile on his face. “Did it work?” She asked then stopped at the voice so unlike her own. Her eyes flew to the mirror above the couch and she stared at the cool blonde looking back at her. She was able to get Suzette’s hair coloring, but not the texture. Still, that was far better than Suzette’s imitation of her. She was taller and thinner, her curves
replaced by slim hips that fit loosely in her jeans. She stared at her eyes. They were not hers. Every fleck she’d come to recognize as a part of her was gone, replaced with the new person in front of her.
“Wow,” she whispered, almost reverently. “This is so fucking cool!”
Martin chuckled. “You have to concentrate to maintain it otherwise it goes away.”
Layla noticed her eyes starting to change and quickly thought of Suzette, startled to see the changes disappear. She was another woman. She sat back on the couch and took a deep breath, not surprised that the strange humming sensation in her body was quieting. She was back. She could feel how her jeans filled out again and her body felt more comfortable.
“Good job,” Martin congratulated her. “Now that you have Transformation down, NightSight is easy. Simply try to see in the dark and you will.” He looked out the window at the sunny day. “Not the best time to try it, but you can still see the results. Close your eyes,” He instructed. He closed the window blinds and draped the comforter from the bedroom over the window. He draped a blanket over the window in the bedroom. In the darkened room, he held Layla’s hand as he moved her over to the closet. He opened the door and instructed her to open her eyes.
At first, the darkness was overwhelming. Layla fought a sudden bout of claustrophobia.
Martin steadied her shoulders. “Breathe,” he cautioned.
Layla took a deep breath. Darkness pressed in all around her.
“Layla, you have to want to see, otherwise you won’t.”
She nodded her head, and then took another breath. She concentrated on being able to see the clothes in the closet. Slowly, she started to make out the shapes of Brett’s clothing. Suddenly she laughed.
Tala Page 13
