Never Look Back (Paranormal Huntress Series Book 1)

by W. J. May

  She remembered the first time Uncle James had told her the truth about the city. She could still feel the sting of tears in her eyes as he filled her in on the details of what actually made Calen breathe. Vampires, Werewolves, Wizards, and Witches. The whole gamut of monsters and ghouls that lurked in the darkest of corners; just out sight, yet there. The city may not have been a tourist trap, but it was the home to more than just wealthy businessmen and struggling youth.

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  Atlanta turned and looked at the frown on Skylar’s face, the other girl’s eyes snapping back and forth between Atlanta and the road.

  Atlanta gave her a quick smile and nodded. Skylar could be a monster herself when she felt she was being ignored.

  “Really?” Skylar clicked her tongue. “What was the last thing I said?”

  “That you weren’t going to take no for an answer,” Atlanta replied immediately.

  Skylar gazed at her for a moment before returning her attention to the road and sighing heavily. “Sometimes I wonder where you go when you drift off like that.”

  “Nowhere in particular,” she said, looking back out the window. The drive to school consisted of Skylar doing all the talking and Atlanta listening, a ritual that helped clear her mind and ease into the world of regular people. They were only ten minutes away from school, and today wasn’t one of those days Atlanta wanted to change that.

  Her mind was still playing images from her nightmare. For the past week, it had been the same. She stood trapped in a room, the world around her burning and the walls crumbling around her. In the distance, between the smoke and flames, red eyes stared at her and a manic laugh seemed to echo in the crackling of the fire. And every morning she would wake up sweaty, with a feeling of impending death that had grown suffocating.

  Adding to the bad dream, Louis’ murder didn’t rest easy on her mind. She knew the man well, her closest ally in the circle of the Fortress, one of the very few Vamps who didn’t automatically want to rip her to shreds the moment he saw her. Centuries old but looking not a day over eighteen, it was sometimes hard to believe Louis had been one of the most important leaders in the vampire family. His murder was definitely a blow to the Vamps in general.

  And obviously to Marcus. The leader of the family was not one to anger. It was absurd that someone would be as bold as to kill the man’s only living relative—well, as living as a vampire could be.

  “Girl, you’re throwing me off my game.” Skylar shook her head as she pulled into the high school parking lot. Finding herself a comfortable slot near the east end, she jerked the car to a halt.

  Atlanta shot her a glare and both girls laughed. They got out, backpacks slung over their shoulders, and subconsciously Atlanta brushed her hand against the concealed knife. She hoped she wouldn’t need it today, but there was no telling what the response would be from the Vamps. Marcus wouldn’t risk disturbing the peace, especially after all this time, but some of the younger, more volatile vampires were dangerously unpredictable.

  Atlanta kept close to Skylar, eyeing the other students filing towards the majestic school. The massive structure had been standing since the nineteenth century, built as a castle for an unknown king who never lasted. Its massive walls, gothic towers, and lines of frozen gargoyles were certainly enough to make anyone stop and stare, or believe in mythical creatures.

  Atlanta knew the truth. The Druids had built it, once housing hundreds of the magical men and women and their extensive knowledge. It had always been the center of the darker world of Calen, where peace between the warring families had finally been cemented and laws were established to maintain it. It was where the Hand had been forged to maintain that peace, Druids-turned-warriors insistent on making sure each family kept to its word, and every monster respected the laws.

  It was a symbol of unity, but to the rest of the world it was just a massive educational center where bullies still stuffed heads into toilet seats, the lonely sought affection from the cheerleaders and jocks, and standardized testing ruled students’ lives. It angered Atlanta sometimes, but she’d learned to accept what was necessary to make sure the balance between both worlds was maintained.

  “Hurry up,” Skylar urged, grabbing Atlanta by the arm and pulling her along. “I don’t want to miss Ryan!”

  Atlanta smiled as they half-jogged towards the building, pushing through half-sleeping students trudging up the massive steps like zombies, and entered the school’s large lobby. All around them, the sounds of chatter and laughter mixed with the metallic opening and slamming of lockers, and Atlanta let her friend guide her deeper into the school.

  She waved at a couple of her friends, but there was no stopping Skylar as she dragged her to their lockers.

  “Here he comes,” Skylar chirped.

  Atlanta turned to where her friend was looking. Ryan Toller was probably the most eminent student in Calen High. Quarterback of the Calen Wizards, ripped to perfection, and with a head of thick black hair above deep green eyes, he had all the high school students of the city drooling over him. Every morning Skylar had them watch him stroll down the hallway towards his first class as he flashed smiles that made most girls swoon, high-fived teammates, and generally acted like a celebrity walking down the red carpet. Atlanta often joked that all he needed were flashing lights and cameras. It never made Skylar laugh.

  Ryan walked past them, giving Skylar a wink and a small smile, his eyes briefly meeting Atlanta’s before turning away. It was all Atlanta needed to see the uneasiness there, and before she could turn back to her locker and ready herself for her first class Ryan stopped. He turned around and walked up to her, easily a foot taller than her, and looked at her seriously.

  “I’m sorry about Louis,” Ryan said, his voice low.

  Atlanta nodded quickly, trying her best not to appear uncomfortable. She could feel Skylar’s eyes boring into her.

  “If there’s anything—”

  “Not now,” Atlanta cut him off.

  Ryan looked at her for a beat, then nodded and continued on his way, easing back into his confident, celebrity-like stride.

  Skylar stepped in close, her face flushed and eyes wide. “What was that about? He knows you?”

  “His father knows my uncle,” Atlanta said dismissively and opened her locker.

  “Who’s Louis?”

  “No one,” Atlanta lied. “It doesn’t matter.” She hated lying to Skylar, and a part of her fumed that Ryan had approached her like that in public. There were rules to these things, and breaking them brought unnecessary attention and caused unwanted problems. She could already feel the myriad in questions in Skylar’s mind, questions she would be forced to answer one way or the other because her friend never let go of anything, and her mind raced with possible answers that would sound logical.

  Besides, there was no way Atlanta could explain that Ryan Toller was the eldest son of the Werewolf family and heir to the Pack.

  Chapter 4

  James Skolar could feel the heaviness in the air around him.

  He sat poignantly at the elongated table smack in the center of the Dome. On either side of the table, each occupying their own seat and flanked by the best of their guards, sat the heads of the Vampire and Werewolf families. James could feel the tension in the air, the visible restraint each man fought to maintain in the face of the recent tragedy. He wrapped his hands around the staff lying softly on his lap, his fingers tracing the symbols etched into the wood, and prayed things would not escalate.

  Over the past few decades, the Dome had become neutral ground where the two families could meet and discuss the most important issues at hand. Usually, these meetings were quite civil. Vampires and werewolves setting their differences aside as they focused on one problem or the other. Ever since the Insurgence almost a century before, the families knew that their combined strength was all that assured their continued existence in this world.

  “I will not be as bold as to blame your family fo
r this atrocity,” Marcus spoke up suddenly, his voice echoing off the stone walls and filling every crevice of the Dome.

  James glanced up in surprise. He’d always admired the man’s power and authority, as well as the poised dignity with which he carried himself. Alive since the fall of Rome, Marcus was among the very few vampires who had crossed the ocean and settled successfully in the New World. James remembered the history well—how Marcus had survived the mass hunt against his kind, the last remaining vampire of the original Circle that had made the long voyage west.

  When it came to this side of the ocean there was no denying who was in charge, and Marcus’ power oozed out of him like a heavy veil.

  “I appreciate your faith, Marcus,” came the reply from the other end of the table. “I assure you, we are not to blame for something as cowardly as this.”

  James looked over to his old friend. What Colin Toller lacked in century-old wisdom, he made up for in brute strength and size. Ever since they’d been in high school together, the head of the Calen Pack had always looked like he could lift an entire bus in one hand while breaking a man in half with the other. His pack was the most loyal of the four Packs, and his authority over Calen and its surrounding area—a dominion his ancestors had ruled for centuries—was unprecedented. Although their lives had taken them in different directions, neither man forgot how important their bond was.

  “There is, however, the matter of retribution,” Marcus said softly, his voice seeping from between his lips in a soothing, yet dangerous, tone. “Something like this cannot go unpunished.”

  Colin nodded, his eyes fixated on the other man. “We’re doing everything we can to make sure we find who did this.”

  A smile formed on Marcus’ lips, a terrible smile that lacked any kind of joviality. “I believe that won’t be enough, Colin,” he said. “There are those in my family who have been greatly affected by this transgression. Those who long for justice, and are not afraid to seek it for themselves.”

  James’ head snapped towards the vampire, and he instantly felt the heavy surge of rage escaping from Colin.

  “I’m confident that your authority over all is supreme,” Colin remarked between clenched teeth. “I cannot believe anyone would step out of line without your blessing.”

  Marcus leaned back in his seat and eyed Colin with amusement. Before, it had been easy to prompt an outburst from Colin. A few words here, a gesture there, and the hot-blooded Werewolf would instantly burst into rage. Now, though, Colin seemed to be a lot more in control, no doubt a trait his father had beat into him well before handing over power. In the past twenty years alone, Marcus was never disappointed with how much Colin continued to surprise him.

  “That’s true,” Marcus replied. “But for how long? You can only keep a fire controlled for so long before it burns out of control.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Colin responded, smiling, trying his best to control his anger. “But, then again, I haven’t been around as long as you have. I’d like to think one learns much over the years, and you, Marcus, have had centuries to learn.”

  “Do not presume to understand me, pup,” Marcus hissed.

  “Do not threaten me again, fangs,” Colin spat back.

  Marcus stood suddenly and slammed his fists onto the stone table, the sound of his onslaught booming through the Dome. His guards immediately bared their fangs, and on the other end of the table the wolves began to shift.

  “Gentlemen!” James shouted, bringing out his staff and slamming its tip on the floor. The symbols etched across it burst into bright orange colors, and both leaders instantly gazed at him in a mix of anger and fear. It took them a while, but eventually both men sat back in their seats.

  “We’re here to discuss solutions,” James said, the orange light dying out, “not share insults.”

  Marcus scoffed, waving his hand dismissively in the air, signaling to his guard to stand down. “Typical,” he muttered.

  “Excuse me?” James asked, frowning.

  “Are you trying to tell me there is no bias here?” Marcus raised an eyebrow.

  “This is a meeting on neutral ground, for a fair judgment of the situation,” James seethed. “Believe me, if I thought the Pack was to blame, I’d be handling this very differently.”

  “Please, Druid, do not insult my intelligence,” Marcus sighed. “There has always been a soft spot for the wolves amongst your kind.”

  “There has always been justice,” James corrected. “And understanding.”

  “A debt to be returned for freeing them,” Marcus spat, and from the corner of his eye James could see the muscles in Colin’s body tense.

  “From your shackles,” James retorted. “But let’s not forget that the Druids were the last line of defense against the Insurgence, when the Demons tore through your ranks and you only had us to save you.”

  “Yes,” Marcus frowned, “you never fail to remind me.”

  “Because you seem to constantly forget,” James hissed. “I will always have the utmost respect for you and your kind, Marcus, despite the past. We put our differences behind us long ago, when it was clear that fighting amongst ourselves opened the paths for others to tear at our throats. We’ve been maintaining the peace for so long, and now someone’s trying to disturb that. We’re here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  Colin grunted. “I agree.”

  “Of course you do,” Marcus said, sitting up straight. “Louis was murdered by a wolf. There is no denying it.”

  “None of the other packs would dare overstep,” Colin replied, his mood still dampened by the tension in the air.

  “Well, someone obviously did,” Marcus spat. “We will search for whoever is responsible, and I expect the same from your family.”

  Marcus stood, abruptly ending the meeting without waiting for a reply. “And you, Druid,” he said, turning to James. “My advice would be to tread carefully. The Druids are gone, the Hand is gone. All that remains of the past are you and that child. If someone is trying to upset the balance, I assure you that the two of you are high on their target list.”

  “We can handle ourselves,” James assured the man.

  “So could Louis,” Marcus said, “and we all know how that played out. If someone was capable of killing Louis Lesoleil, then an old Druid and his niece won’t be much of a challenge.”

  James opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it and closed it again. He watched as the vampire led his escorts out of the Dome. James stood slowly, and turned to face his friend.

  “He’s right, you know,” Colin said, his eyes set forward and staring at the door through which Marcus had left.

  “Was it one of yours?” James asked immediately, hoping to catch the man off-guard.

  Colin’s eyes snapped to him, and James could see the anger reflected in them over the accusation. “Of course not.”

  “Another pack?”

  Colin shook his head angrily. “If it was, then they’ll have me to deal with.” Colin stood, his towering figure shaking with contained rage. “This will not be ignored, I promise you.”

  James nodded. “Good. I have to bring Atlanta up to speed. She needs to be ready.”

  “I’ll send you a pair of guards,” Colin said. “Just to make sure.”

  James scoffed and waved away the suggestion. “Atlanta will be fine. She works better alone.”

  Colin gazed at his friend for a beat, then nodded and stuck out his hand. “Good luck, my friend.”

  James shook it then watched the Pack leave.

  Chapter 5

  “Take it easy, Atlanta,” Ryan Toller sighed. “I was just voicing my condolences. It’s not such a big deal!”

  They were standing behind the bleachers of Calen High’s football field, Ryan in uniform and ready for practice. Atlanta stood in front of him, arms crossed over her chest.

  It had taken her forever to shake off Skylar, and a bloomin’ lot of effort to avoid her incessant questioning. Atlanta had spen
t most of the day on full alert, going through classes on cruise control while her senses were fixated on picking up any anomaly. If her uncle was right, and people were suspecting the Pack to be behind Louis’ murder, then there was no telling who would come after Ryan.

  It didn’t help, of course, that most of her classes were shared with the heir to the Calen Pack, and that he wouldn’t stop staring at her throughout the entire day. It made oblivious Skylar even more curious, which only added to the burdens of the day.

  “We’re trying to keep a low profile, Ryan,” Atlanta scolded. “We’ve been doing it forever. What’s the matter with you?”

  Ryan frowned. “I understand playing the jock, and acting like a teenage heartthrob and all, but it doesn’t mean I’m a douche.”

  “Well, try to be more like one!” Atlanta threw her hands in the air in exasperation. “There’s an image to be kept. You know this better than any of us.”

  Ryan angrily pointed a finger at her. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he hissed. “Everybody does. Go play football, Ryan. Smile at the shallow blondes, Ryan. Date the airhead who heads the cheerleaders, Ryan.”

  Atlanta smiled despite herself, and it only made him angrier.

  “Dammit, Atlanta, I’m sick of this!”

  “Fine,” Atlanta replied. “Let the energy inside you bottle up until you’re shifting in the middle of cafeteria and slashing away at the other students.”

  A shrill whistle sounded from behind them, and Ryan looked away from Atlanta for a brief second before returning his attention to her. “Practice is starting…I gotta go.” He brushed past her, shaking his head.

  Atlanta grabbed him by the arm and stopped him. “We’ve got a few months left. Then we’re home-free.”

  “No, we’re not,” Ryan said. “We’re always going to be hiding in the shadows, Atlanta.”