Whispered Bonds

by Tally Adams

  Whispered Bonds

  Whispered Bonds

  Tally Adams

  © 2019 Tally Adams All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Whispered Bonds Saphiire Shadows publicrelations@tallyadams.com Names: Adams, Tally. Title: Whispered Bonds / Tally Adams. Series: An immortal romance series novel Identifiers: ASIN Subjects: LCSH: Missing persons--Fiction. | Sisters--Fiction. | Vampires--Fiction. | Werewolves--Fiction. | LCGFT: Fantasy fiction. | Romance fiction. For more information or to contact the author, please go to www.tallyadams.com.

  Chapter One

  "This place won't be the same without you," said the middle-aged Bradley Campbell with a sigh and a touch of regret. He leaned one heavy elbow on the bar and gave Lyric a sad little smile. Her last paycheck was in his hand, held out for her.

  Lyric untied the strings of the hideous green apron she'd worn while waitressing nearly every night for the last few years. She threw it on the bar in a puddle of fabric and took the envelope with a nod of thanks. "You'll have a new girl hired in a week and forget all about me," she said with a chuckle.

  He fixed her with a serious stare over his small glasses. "I'll hire someone soon enough," he agreed. "But there's no forgetting you."

  "Hard to forget about the crazy girl, huh?" she teased, trying to break the solemn atmosphere.

  She hated goodbyes. Her eyes already stung with the threat of tears.

  This was a good thing, she reminded herself.

  She was leaving this horrible town behind and starting fresh; giving herself a clean slate. She was going where no one knew she heard a voice in her head.

  Bradley's face slid into a disapproving scowl. "You're not crazy," he said. "You hear voices because you've been through a lot. A hell of a lot," he amended. "And these small town, big mouths didn't help matters."

  "That's the thing about small towns," she said with a shrug that was supposed to be carefree but came out closer to dejected. "They have memories that go on forever and nothing spreads like gossip."

  He gave a snort of agreement and lapsed into a protracted silence. "Just promise you won't take it with you," he said a moment later. "Your brother's grown. You did your duty and raised him into a good man. You were still a kid yourself. That's something to be proud of."

  He waited for her weak smile of acknowledgement. Tears were stinging worse than ever, and she knew she wouldn't get through this with dry eyes. Sure enough, a single tear slid down her cheek. She brushed it away impatiently.

  "Don't take the words of these idiots with you. You lost more than your parents in that accident. You lost your free years of being a young girl with nothing more to worry about than-" he hesitated uncertainly and gave a small chuckle. "I don't know," he admitted. "Hair and boys, I guess."

  Lyric laughed with him through her tears, thankful for the small bit of levity.

  "Go reclaim your life," he continued. "Leave the past here and never look back."

  "I won't," she promised, and meant it.

  "Good. Take care of yourself." He cleared his throat and gave her a fatherly smile.

  "Thank you," Lyric said, reaching out to grip his hand earnestly. "For everything."

  "It was my pleasure," he said.

  Lyric gave him a final smile and a nod of thanks, then turned and walked away.

  It was surreal to hear the little bell chime above the door and know she'd never hear it again. For five years she'd been listening to the annoying sound so often, she sometimes heard it in her sleep. Knowing this was the last time seemed discomforting, somehow.

  Not that she was having second thoughts.

  Since her younger brother, Sean, had gone off to college, there was nothing left for her in the little town except bad memories and rumors. God knew, she'd had enough of those. More than enough. Besides, she couldn't shake the urgent feeling something was after her and it was closing in. Fast.

  Sometimes, she could swear she was being watched.

  Her doctors were convinced it was just the paranoia acting up, but she was sure it was something else. For nearly two weeks, she'd been on the edge of panic with no obvious cause. Changes in her routine hadn't helped, and she wasn't going back to the hospital.

  Never again.

  Sean was gone. Her responsibility was fulfilled. If it was insanity stalking her, she'd fought the good fight. It was time to see where insanity would lead.

  Her beat-up, dilapidated car waited for her, loaded down with the few things she was taking for the trip. Everything else was in storage. She made her way across the darkened parking lot, listening absently to the crunch of gravel underfoot. The driver's door gave a familiar, reluctant groan when she opened it.

  She slid in, tossed her purse into the passenger seat, closed the door with a squeaky-slam, and started the engine. The headlights came on and cut through the darkness directly in front of her. Something bright caught her attention and she stopped, staring through the windshield.

  In the grassy field behind the parking lot, several pairs of amber eyes glittered in the darkness. She couldn't make out the shape of who—or more likely what—they belonged to. The figures blended too well in the night and her headlights weren't bright enough to give her more than a vague shape.

  But whatever they were, they were big.

  For a long moment, she sat frozen like a rabbit in a snare. All she could do was watch those eyes, her brain unable to process what she was seeing into something that made sense. None of them moved or seemed to blink. They just stared at her endlessly. After a couple of tense heartbeats, she gave a small, nervous laugh and shook her head slightly without taking her eyes from the ones looking back.

  It had to be something simple and silly.

  A weird trick of light—ok, really weird—or maybe the small-town locals messing with the crazy girl her last night in town; trying to get a good show before she left. Hadn't she seen something on Facebook where someone put big, scary eyes on an old tree and frightened a bunch of people? It had to be something like that. Surely her mind wasn't cracking up, once and for all.

  The doctors warned her it might get worse at some point.

  She swallowed the thought.

  No, she told herself firmly, dragging her eyes away from the scene and back to the inside of her car. Sitting around worrying she'd lose her sanity was a surefire way to make herself go insane. She was not a full-blown basket case. Someone was clearly trying to play a prank. Cautiously sure of her reasoning, she pulled the car into reverse and backed up a little more quickly than usual under the flickering light of the single street lamp.

  Without warning, something hit the passenger door with enough force to rock the little car. Hard. She yelped in both fear and surprise and stomped the brake, jerking to a sudden halt.

  Her heart jumped into her throat. She scanned around frantically, but her vision was limited to the small, illuminated space. She squinted into the darkness but couldn't see anything. A sinking feeling gathered in the pit of her stomach when she realized she couldn't see the eyes in the field any longer.

  With slightly unsteady hands, she pulled into drive.

  A flash of movement in the rearview mirror caught her attention. She turned to look but saw nothing through the back window that didn't belong there. For a few seconds, she continued to stare, trying to stay calm. There had to be a rational explanation, she tried to convince herself.

  She turned back toward the front of the car and found herself at eye level with something huge and hairy. Glistening amber eyes set into a massive do
g-shaped face stared at her through the driver's side window.

  Her mouth opened in a high-pitched scream of sheer terror. Without taking her gaze from the creature, she hit the gas and the car lurched forward. Something heavy landed on the hood with a crunch.

  She looked up to find another one staring at her through the windshield; impossibly long teeth bared. With a vicious snarl, it threw itself against the glass. The windshield gave a horrifying crack and spider-webbed. Lyric slammed the brake and sent it flying.

  Suddenly, her car was being hit from every direction, rocking wildly until it threatened to overturn. She didn't have a clue what was happening and had no intention of sticking around to find out. With a light thump, the gas pedal hit the floor. Her tires squealed in protest as the car moved with far more speed than she'd known it was capable of.

  Chapter Two

  Lyric! cried the all-too-familiar voice in her head.

  Her imaginary man.

  Her psychosis.

  What's happening? he demanded, sounding almost as panicked as she felt.

  On the advice of her psychiatrists, Lyric hadn't allowed herself to acknowledge him for more than a year. They were convinced if she didn't interact with the voice in her head, it would go away in time. Doubt had crept in when months of stringently adhering to their orders had failed to yield any result at all. Still, she'd stubbornly stuck to their dictates in the hopes of reclaiming her sanity. It took a great deal of energy and willpower and often left her tired and irritated by her lack of ability to silence him. He was nothing if not persistent. This time, however, she didn't even hesitate.

  Dogs, she answered. Even in her own head, she sounded breathless and scared. The biggest dogs you could imagine. A bunch of them just attacked my car. You wouldn't believe the size of these—Her words broke off when she noticed that, although she was flying down the narrow town street fast enough to cause the scenery to blur, the amber eyes were still beside her window, looking in. Nothing separated her from the beast except the small pane of glass in the driver's door. Her mouth opened in a silent scream.

  Get out of there! the voice commanded, but she barely heard it.

  Normally, she'd have a great retort for such a ridiculous order. Something along the lines of 'No, I thought I'd stop and stargaze awhile.' But just now, she was too scared to even process the words. Her eyes were glued to the glowing amber ones beside her. Every few seconds, sporadic streetlights washed over them and she could make out the flash of glistening teeth.

  I am going to die, she told the voice with a calm certainty, still unable to tear her eyes away from teeth that looked nearly as long as her forearm.

  Like hell you are, was snarled in her head viciously, and she was filled with impotent rage. You're in a car, right? Keep moving, he went on without waiting for an answer. Find a church and wait for me. I'm coming for you.

  What? she asked confusedly. Why a church?

  Because, he answered slowly, as if weighing the words carefully. They aren't dogs. They're werewolves.

  That didn't get a chance to sink in because the beast at the passenger side slammed into the car with enough force to push her speeding toward the edge of the road. She drove up and over the curb with a loud thump. Another embarrassing squeak escaped her, and she maneuvered the steering wheel wildly to bring the car back under control.

  A church, a church, her mind chanted. She needed to find a church.

  Then it hit her.

  There was an old, abandoned chapel only a few blocks from her current location. It was in a part of town that had given over to industrial sites years ago and had since started to crumble and been condemned, but it was still a church. With a plan—somewhat of a plan, anyway—in mind, her nerves steadied a bit. She blocked everything else out and focused her thoughts on getting there.

  Even with the extra speed she managed to coax from the engine, her pursuers kept pace, refusing to allow her to put any distance between them. Which meant she wouldn't be able to park and run to the property without being eaten alive. That left only one alternative. She'd have to drive right up into the yard.

  Oh well, she resigned herself. Nothing like front door service.

  Drive through the front door if you need to, said the voice impatiently. Just get onto consecrated ground.

  What do you think I'm trying to do? she snapped in return, taking the final turn so fast her wheels let out a squeal loud enough to wake the dead and threatened to leave the road.

  Her haven loomed in the distance. Abandoned, dirty, and falling apart. She'd never been so happy to see a derelict building in her life. Where there had once been a welcoming porch for the parishioners, now there was simply a big drop from the door to the ground. The double front doors stood slightly ajar, with one hanging crooked. Both side entrances were boarded up with plywood and most of the windows were covered with wooden planks. It was the sort of place people avoided like the plague and kids made up stories of it being haunted to scare each other.

  To Lyric, it looked like salvation itself. She'd happily take theoretical ghosts over man-eating monsters any day.

  Her wheels hit the curb without slowing down and basically launched her onto the front of the property like a shotput. The car let out an ominous crack and squeaking of shocks when it landed, and the impact sent her flying forward. Her head hit the steering wheel hard enough to steal her vision and stun her. For the briefest of moments, everything went black. Then, with a gasping cough and a wince, she slowly leaned back against her seat and waited for the world to stop spinning. In the back of her mind, she thought it would be just her luck for the church to be desecrated; a possibility she'd failed to consider.

  Don't even think like that, the voice said sharply. Don't put it out there in the universe.

  She ignored the words and held perfectly still, straining to hear any sound. With a hard swallow and a deep breath, she turned her head to look through the driver's side window. No glowing eyes or giant, snarling teeth met her gaze. Only inky darkness. A quick glance through each car window in turn found no hint of her attackers. She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh of relief.

  They're gone, she told the voice. Her body started to shake with the letdown from the adrenaline rush. She couldn't even comprehend what had happened.

  Werewolves?

  Maybe she really had cracked up completely, after all. It was the only thing that made sense.

  You're not crazy, and they're not gone, floated into her head. I don't think I can make it to you before sunrise. There was a bite of frustration in the tone. I'm sending a woman named Emily for you. She's on her way. Werewolves can be out in the daylight, so don't step off the church grounds until she gets there.

  A small bubble of slightly hysterical laughter escaped her. An imaginary man in her head was telling her she wasn’t crazy. Why was she not convinced?

  Wait, she said as his words sank in. What do you mean they're not gone?

  They can't be on consecrated ground, but I doubt they've gone very far. Just don't leave that property until help arrives, he answered.

  What do they want with me? she asked. It seemed like a reasonable enough question, considering she was likely to have nightmares for the rest of her life.

  Nothing good, he said after a pause. Some things are best explained in person. Please know I never would have left you alone if I'd known this was coming.

  If you'd known what was coming? she demanded sharply, her temper flaring as the situation seemed to make less and less sense.

  Now that the emergency was over, she was beginning to question herself. Was she really talking to someone in her head, or was she as crazy as the doctors claimed? Admittedly, it was a little on the abnormal side to be parked in the middle of a church yard, convinced man-eating werewolves were waiting to rip a person to bits, but she had seen them with her own eyes.

  Hadn't she?

  A war. We're at the beginning of a war, and you've landed right in the middle. With me. Because of
me, he corrected, and she could have sworn she detected a touch of self-loathing.

  She said nothing. She wasn't in the mood to soothe someone else's guilty conscience. If there was a someone else. Aggravated by her sudden uncertainty, she opened the car door just a crack, listening. She didn't hear anything outside of the ordinary sounds of night. Except—she held her breath and strained her ears. Something was moving a short distance away. It didn't sound like it was getting any closer, though. She closed the door quickly and turned backward in her seat to peer through the rear window. In the dark, she could just make out blurs of movement by the sidewalk.

  So there really was something there. Unless she was trapped in a delusion.

  She gave an irritated sigh, turned back around and slid down in the seat.

  Her eyes caught and held on the broken windshield.

  With nervous fingers, she gingerly touched the cool, cracked glass to prove to herself she wasn't seeing things. It felt solid and real, cracks and all.

  "You can't hide there forever," a male voice called, breaking the silence.

  Chapter Three

  In a flash, Lyric was back on her knees looking through the rear window of the car, trying to make out the speaker. Her eyes still couldn't penetrate the blanket of darkness. She hesitated, unsure of what to do. Her first instinct was to ignore him and hope he'd go away. But somehow, she doubted that was a viable option.

  Someone's talking to me, she informed her only source of comfort.

  Can you see who it is?

  Of course not! she snapped, struggling—and failing—to remain calm. It's pitch black out here. All I can see is a busted-down building and a lot of shadows!

  You're doing great. His encouraging tone did nothing to boost her morale. Can you get them talking?

  What? Why? She didn't feel like she was doing great. In fact, she felt like she was about to have a full-blown panic attack at any moment. Or suddenly wake up to find she was really on a street corner, mumbling to herself like all the other crazy people.