Maikoda: Power of the Moon (Blue Moon Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  She didn’t know these people. Why the hell did she care what they thought of her? he walked purposefully down the stairs. It would be great to meet them, but if it didn’t work out, it didn’t work out.

  She turned the corner and stood in the doorway. Her mouth dried as both women turned to her. They were the exact likeness of the other. Pamuya’s silver hair also cascaded down her back, but whereas Taini had hers moving freely, Pamuya had hers pulled back in a French braid that fell almost to her hips. She had the same hazel eyes flecked with green and her wide face was more solemn. Other than minute differences, the women were mirror twins of each other, a prospect that she found both cool and a bit frightening.

  Pamuya gave Layla a shy smile and she instantly relaxed. She didn’t know why she was nervous in the first place. A bit more confident, she strode into the room, her hand still clasped in Brett’s and they sat on one of the sofas strewn around the fireplace. A giant of a man walked over to them and extended his hand. He was less native looking than the others, suggesting a mixed heritage.

  “I am Dyami. Pamuya’s husband.” He placed his hand protectively on Pamuya’s shoulder and she looked up at him with a smile, before turning her gaze back to Layla. “It is a pleasure meeting you. Pamuya could barely sleep last night she wanted to meet you so badly.”

  Pamuya nodded. “He’s right. I almost woke you in my excitement.”

  Her voice tinkled like her sisters, but instead of being as flighty, Pamuya’s notes flowed. Layla watched the interactions between the two sisters as the man next to Taini leaned forward. “I am Paytah, Taini’s husband. Anything you need, you let us know.”

  Layla nodded to the man, his half-moon eyes and wide face a familiar one in this village. His coal black hair was sprinkled lightly with gray and he smiled as she noticed her line of sight.

  “Taini is a cougar.”

  A choked laugh bubbled out of Layla and she covered her mouth with her hand as Taini hit her husband playfully.

  Brett leaned around Layla to whisper to Paytah, “so is Layla.” He winked as Layla blushed. “Must be something that runs in the family.”

  The group laughed and whatever tension had remained, dissipated.

  “So Layla, tell us something about yourself.” Pamuya leaned against her husband as she spoke, smiling easily. “I want to know about my little sister

  Layla heart dropped. This was what she had been dreading. She was only half Native American. Would it be a sore subject that the woman—supposedly—fated to be the Hania was not even a full-blooded Native? Would they feel animosity towards her because of her parentage?

  “Well, my mom died when I was ten.” She smiled sadly. “She was murdered, actually.” Her sisters’ quick inhale encouraged her with her story.

  “She died trying to save me from rogue Weres who were trying to kill me.” She took another steadying breath. “That was the first time I even knew anything about Werewolves, I mean the only time I had heard of them was on TV.”

  “You know, the horrible B movies on late night.” She laughed weakly, “I thought it was all myth until I transformed, well, partially transformed. My full transformation didn’t happen until a few months ago.”

  It was freeing to tell them about her life growing up; being raised by her aunt and reconnecting with the older woman. She even told them about the troubles back home; Kuruk and Suzette and the murders on campus. Paytah’s eyes flashed at the news of the murders and Taini put a soothing hand on her husband’s cheek. Finally, she told them about her dreams and the search for the Hania.

  Pamuya smiled. “Yes, I know about the dreams; the ones where you are in an abandoned airfield?”

  “Y-y-yes,” Layla stammered. “How did you know?”

  Pamuya smiled. “It is my gift. I sent them to you.”

  Layla frowned. “You couldn’t have known who I was or that I was the Hania.”

  Pamuya nodded. “True, I simply sent the dreams out to the Spirit Warrior. None but she would receive it.” She studied Layla, “and you did.”

  “But I didn’t even want to come,” Layla argued. “And I am not even a full-blood native.

  Pamuya smiled again. “It does not matter. What matters is that you came and you have our father’s blood. Nothing is stronger than that.”

  Damn. Why did everyone insist she was the Hania? She was not convinced. Perhaps she had simply intercepted the Hania’s vision.

  She stood up. “You know what? I don’t want to talk about the Hania anymore. I am just getting to know you guys, so tell me about you.”

  The sisters looked at each other, their eyes telling. “Don’t think we are not talking about the Hania later on, young lady,” Taini warned in a playful tone.

  Layla said nothing, nodding slightly in acknowledgement.

  “Well, Pamuya and I have lived here most of our lives. When we were born, Alaska was simply wilderness; wild and untamed, barely explored by Europeans.” Her voice was soothing; a breath of fresh air to calm her ruffled feathers. Taini’s voice seemed to have a mind of its own. Layla closed her eyes as the woman’s voice washed over her, the images in her memories branding themselves in Layla’s subconscious.

  Two young girls played. They both had long reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes. A tall, muscled man walked towards them, his hands hiding something behind his back. The girls turned to him, eyes wide as he presented their gifts; two small crystal beads. “Formed from my tears when I cried for home,” he told them as they laughed. He patted their hair, one on either side of him.

  “When the time comes, you will be called upon to use your gifts to help me return home.” The girls nodded, they knew the story of the Hania. They would make sure they did their duty in helping their father to return to his own realm where he would be able to stop the war.

  Layla gasped as she was thrust back into the present and her hand flew to her throat, her head spinning with the loss of the connection.

  Eyes full of concern, Brett rubbed her back. “Babe, you okay?” he asked, “Do you want some water?”

  She nodded, needing something to distract her from the intensity of the vision, and he quickly stood up to follow Paytah to the kitchen. The twins shared knowing grins as they watched her and she looked at Pamuya suspiciously.

  The other woman raised her hands in surrender. “It was not me. In order for me to send a vision, I have to be asleep as well.” She smiled gently at Layla. “That was you. The prophecy is coming true.”

  “So, what was it like growing up here?” Layla changed the subject. Even if she were the Hania, she was getting tired of talking about it. It could wait.

  Pamuya stood up. “You already have an idea of what we can do, so why don’t we show you?”

  Layla looked at her in question as Brett returned with her glass and sat by her side.

  Pamuya smiled at the group. “Our gifts are a bit different. I suppose by being twins we got a little bit extra.” She pushed up her sleeves. “You already know that Taini’s gifts include being able to confound a Weres sense of smell by leaving different trails. So many, in fact, most Weres don’t realize one had been there.”

  She looked over at Layla. “Layla was able to get around that because of how she sees the scent trail. Most Weres smell, you actually see. The different colors allowed you to be able to discern the trail and follow it.”

  Layla’s mouth gaped open in surprise, she had never told the twins how she saw the scent trails and even Martin had a hard time understanding when she’d tried to explain.

  Pamuya chuckled. “I know this because this is how I see Taini’s trails myself.”

  She held up her hands as she continued her explanations. “My gifts are a little different; I can create another world, a dreamscape, per se. That’s why our village is so difficult to find. It is another world entirely.”

  Taini stood up to join her sister and they linked hands. “If shown this place, you can find it again, but you have to have the blessing of the elders in order t
o enter it. And that blessing has to be given freely. It allows us protection.”

  She smiled at Layla. “You felt it yesterday. When we arrived at the barrier. You felt the energy.”

  Layla nodded. She had felt it; a tangible wall of energy had blocked their path.

  Pamuya smiled. “It’s all about energy. Think of Taini’s gift as air energy, my gift is water energy. That’s what my name means you know, Water Moon.”

  Taini smiled. “Mine is New Moon. The time of the month when the moon is not visible. But you know it’s there. Kinda like the wind.” Taini smiled at Layla. “Our father told us about you. About our sister. Maikoda, he called her. Power of the moon.”

  She indicated Pamuya’s fingers intertwined with hers. “As sisters, all our gifts are meant to work in tandem. Pamuya and I have done this a thousand times. Together, our gifts can be manifested into something more…tangible, more visual.”

  Her brow furrowed as she concentrated. Their hands moved through the air; Taini’s weaving and Pamuya breathing life into the colored patterns in the air. Instantly, they took on weight and substance. It was like watching a movie in 3D.

  Layla watched intently, amazed at the scene in front of her.

  Suddenly the auburn haired man stood in front of them, his eyes a mixture of amber and hazel. He reached towards her and, on their own, her hands reached for him. She brushed the memory; her hands chilled as they made contact with the watery mist. It was surreal and utterly eerie. She let out a breath, the warm air condensing in the cooled room.

  The twins continued to dance, their movements frenzied at times as they made the very air come to life. Layla watched from the eyes of twin babies, to twin toddlers and beyond. She saw her father in a different time, with the twins’ mother, a sweet woman who adored them as much as she adored the man she bore them to.

  She saw when Mai-coh eventually had to leave. Instead of sneaking away into the night, he had told them he had to go, before simply walking away. They never saw him again. She saw the girls’ first transformations, within hours of each other and the first time they used their gifts. She watched their weddings, the birth of Taini’s son, Mikasi and the births and deaths of Pamuya’s twin girls.

  Her heart gave a lurch as she watched the tears roll silently down Pamuya’s cheeks as she continued to bring the memories to life; even the ones that hurt. Finally, they stopped. Both women sat heavily onto the couch, breathing hard as their dance was completed.

  These people had invested so much into this Spirit Warrior. Hopes and dreams rested on her mission and she didn’t want to claim what she knew to be true in heart simply out of fear? So many lives had been lost and so many sacrifices had been made to allow her to get to this point.

  Taini looked at her. “Do you see now?”

  Layla nodded. She understood why she had to do it, but she still wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. They had the bracelet, but the bracelet was nothing without the dagger and the strength of the Hania. At this point, she just didn’t know what any of it meant.

  “So how does the bracelet fit into all this?”

  “It is the only way to connect to Mai-coh. When he first came to this realm, this plane of existence, he was too powerful. When he mated with the first mother, he gave her the bracelet, not only as a wedding gift, but as a means of protection—from his powers. The Hania must wear it to channel his powers into her after he is released. Without it, his powers will be strewn around the world and it is too chaotic for that to bode well.”

  Pamuya glanced at Layla. “The bracelet ensures that the power released goes to the person who released him.”

  That made sense. If the Weres were waging a war over Mai-coh’s powers, having a means to contain that power was only logical.

  Brett leaned forward. “I have a question, Pamuya.”

  The other woman nodded in acknowledgement.

  “My father left me a journal. In it he claimed to have been a Protector for the Hania.” He smiled ruefully. “He said in his journal that it was my family duty. What do I do? Protect her from what?”

  Pamuya smiled. “In our research, we have heard of the Protectors. We weren’t sure if they were real or not.” Taini nodded at this.

  “We do not know your role now, but if you trust the words of your father, then she must trust you to be her protector.”

  Trust him. He will protect you. The words echoed in Layla’s head. Her dream had been to tell her that Brett was her protector? Was that why she was so drawn to him? Not because she loved him, but because he was to be her protector. She frowned, so damn confused. Everything seemed to get more and more complicated at every turn.

  “Do you have the dagger?” she asked Pamuya.

  The older woman shook her head. “We have no idea where any of the artifacts are.”

  “Can I see the journal?” Taini asked Brett. “I’m curious to see if there are any clues.”

  Nodding, he bounded up the stairs to their room, while Layla waited, curious as to what the journal said about the roles of the Hania and the Protector. He had mentioned it before they left, but once she had the bracelet, she had been so enthralled with it and Martin with getting to Alaska, that she had not taken the time to really look at it.

  He walked back into the room and placed the small book on the table.

  Pamuya and Taini walked over to it and each ran a finger across the surface. Like before with their memories, their hands started moving and the words on the page became like a movie. Not nearly as impressive as the images created from their memories, but Layla saw flickers of the family that was Brett’s.

  His face was mirrored in that of the long dark haired Native American who sat at the table and first started writing the songs and stories passed to him from his father. Then she saw the deaths. Each Protector had died; living only long enough to pass on their stories to the next generation before they met their doom.

  The images stopped moving. Brett sat next to her, his arms folded across his chest, his jaw clenched tight.

  “I guess, damned if I do, damned if I don’t, huh?”

  “You don’t have to do any of it.” Layla whispered to him.

  He looked at her and raised a hand to lightly stroke her face. “But if I don’t, that means you are unprotected. That means you could die.” He swallowed. “I couldn’t stand that. I couldn’t live with that.”

  “But if you do, you might die.” She touched his arm. “You saw the images, Brett. They were all killed. Even your father. Accepting the role of Protector is a sure way to die early.”

  She crossed her arms, stubbornly. “I won’t allow you to do it.”

  “You won’t allow it? It’s still my decision, but,” he said, almost patronizingly, “We can talk about this later.”

  Layla fumed. Not only was she to risk her own life, but now she had to risk the life of the only man she had ever truly cared about. She would have to kill her father and allow the sisters she’d just met, who had families of their own, to sacrifice themselves for her.

  All so that she could become the Hania and save the world. Supposedly. What if she really wasn’t the Hania? Then all of this bullshit would have been for nothing. She was sick and tired of this crap.

  *

  Martin met Layla outside. “You okay?”

  She sat on the porch, her breaths white puffs visible in the moonlight. “Yeah.”

  He sat next to her on the cold porch. “It’s starting to get to you yet?”

  “It started getting to me the night my mom died.” She gave a half-laugh, and then quieted for a moment before she looked up at him.

  “You said that humans who are bitten by Weres and don’t have the gene suffer horribly.” She stared back out into the night. “Did she suffer? My mom, I mean.”

  Martin was silent for so long she thought he didn’t hear her question. Then he answered, his voice resigned. “She didn’t suffer for long, she was so much pain I had to help her end it.”

  Layla’s
breath caught. He had to help her? How could he help her? Unless—he had killed her. Her mom had been dying anyway, but the fact that she had died at Martin’s hand was just too much. “You killed her?”

  “I had to help her, Layla,” Martin answered quietly, his eyes on her intently. “I couldn’t let her suffer any longer.”

  She let out a short humorless laugh. “You couldn’t let her suffer? You couldn’t? She may have lived, you know.” Her hands shook with rage and sorrow, the anger an outlet for all the angst and uncertainty of the past few weeks. She was tired of these damn Werewolves trying to control everyone and everything. How dare he assume that he was worthy of taking her mother away? How dare he?

  “Layla,” Martin reached for her.

  “No!” She twisted away. “My mother might have lived. Brett lived. Mai-coh came for him and saved him. He could’ve done the same for her.”

  “Layla, think!” Martin said. “Mai-coh needed Brett alive to protect you. Your mom had done her duty. She had you, she raised you.” He sighed heavily. “He wouldn’t have come. She would have suffered for days.”

  “You don’t know that!” Layla yelled at him inconsolable. “You don’t know that! Oh my God, I can’t believe you killed her. You could have taken her to Mai-coh, you could have saved her; instead you killed her!”

  She leaned against the porch railing, hurt rocketing through her. “I hate you.”

  Straightening, she looked over at him, her face hard as stone in the moonlight. “I hate you. Screw all this bullshit. What is the use of saving the world when everyone you love in it dies?” She turned on her heel and marched off into the night not knowing or caring where she was going.

  Martin called out to her but she ignored it. She was out of here. If she had to march all the way back to Anchorage, she would, she thought, as she continued moving. She walked through the village towards the trees on the far side of clearing.

  If only she could make it back the car. They had actually left the keys in the car. Then she could drive back to Anchorage and take the next flight back to Florida and away from all this. She couldn’t believe that Martin, the man she looked upon with so much respect, had betrayed her like that.