Maikoda: Power of the Moon (Blue Moon Trilogy Book 2) Page 5

  Layla closed her eyes as her shoulders dropped. She was going to be responsible if an attack happened near the campus again. She could see this all going wrong and innocent people getting hurt. This was last time all over again.

  “Tell you what,” he removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We can allow you to take the classes next semester and you can sit this semester out to get your head back together or, another option could be, simply asking your professors to do an independent research study to help with the rest of the semester grades.”

  An independent research study was not bad. She was enrolled in four classes. Her mentoring class she could test out of, but that left three other classes and that meant three research papers that would count for her midterms and finals. Three papers that would have to be at least fifty or sixty pages. Each. She shuddered, thinking of all that writing. But it was better than nothing and she would be limiting her time on campus.

  “Thank you,” she told him gratefully. “I’m sure most of my professors would agree with the independent research, but I’m not certain my Statistics professor would allow it. He and I don’t really get along.”

  The Director’s eyebrows raised in question.

  “Last month he hurled a few accusations at me and then dropped me from the course. The Dean put me back in the course and then the attacks happened and to be honest I haven’t spoken to him since then. But I don’t think he will be open to this idea.”

  The Director rubbed his nose again. “How about this? Talk to your professor and try to explain the situation. If it doesn’t work, come back and talk to me and we’ll figure something out. Okay?”

  Layla nodded. It was better than nothing. She understood that until she spoke with her professor there was nothing else the director was going to do. She thanked him again, grabbed the forms he gave her and exited the room.

  As she walked the hallway on the way to the academic offices, she saw a flash of white blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. Suzette. Instinctively, she ducked beneath the window and peeked out at the Were strolling confidently down the street. The Were paused, as if she knew she was being watched and then looked behind her.

  Layla kept her head low, as the Were scanning the street. She was thinner than she remembered and the wind, which was blowing away from her, blew the blonde’s hair about her face, partially obscuring her features, but her green eyes shone with intensity. Layla pulled in a deep breath; smelling Suzette. She waited and watched as the blonde stopped and shook her head as if answering an unspoken question and then turned back to continue her journey.

  Grabbing her phone from her back pocket, she keyed in her unlock code intent on calling Martin and then thought better of it. Suzette could be listening. Even from this distance, if she was trying, Suzette would be able to overhear her conversation, but she couldn’t text, walk and remain out of sight. Uncertain what to do, she decided to wait until she was in a better hiding place before texting Martin and Brett, until then, she would follow.

  The blonde Were glanced behind her again and Layla ducked behind the wall of an office building. She held her breath and waited a few seconds before peeking around the corner and spied the blonde Were walking into a coffee shop. Hurriedly trailing the other woman, she slid into a chair near an outside table and picked up a newspaper discarded by a customer as a waitress walked up to her.

  “What can I get you?”

  Cursing under her breath, she willed the waitress to move as she blocked her view of Suzette “Just water for now,” she answered, trying to disguise her voice, even as she acknowledged that Suzette could simply smell her. “I have someone else joining me.”

  The waitress nodded and moved to get the water and some menus while Layla looked around anxiously. Suzette was gone. Her wolf rose in frustration and she closed her eyes to calm herself. She finally had a lead on the Were who was trying to kill her and managed to let her get away. Shit. She glared at the waitress and jogged across the street back towards the college, the hair rising on her nape as someone walked up behind her.

  “Hello, Layla.”

  She whirled around.

  “You wanted to say something to me?” The blonde moved confidently towards her.

  Layla held her ground, recognizing the girl from Suzette’s compound. “You wouldn’t know where Suzette is, would you?” she asked with false bravado.

  The girl chuckled and stared at her nails. “You know, I really don’t know where my cousin is. However, I don’t think I would tell you even if I did.” She grinned up at Layla, displaying her slightly elongated teeth.

  The familiar throbbing reverberated through Layla’s head. Her animal wanted to respond to the challenge being issued, but she reined it in; she needed to keep a clear head. She looked at the girl and grinned. “Nice, did your daddy pay for those?” She taunted.

  The other girl bristled. “Do you know who I am? I could gut you—.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Layla interrupted. “What is up with you and your cousin? All these threats about what you could do, yet if I remember correctly, while I was kicking Suzette’s ass, you were nowhere to be seen. I guess running and hiding is another family trait.”

  “You bitch! You better watch your back. You will be sorry.”

  “Uh huh,” Layla said as she turned away already losing interest in the vague threats being issued. She hoped the girl wasn’t stupid enough to attack her in broad daylight, but she kept an eye on her anyway, the girl’s glare almost burning her back until she rounded the corner that took her back to the college.

  Putting aside her thoughts of Suzette, Layla remembered the task she still had to accomplish. She needed to talk to her professors to finalize her independent research study. Walking back to the Social Science office areas, she looked up her first two professors.

  They both agreed that an independent research study was her best option and she was right on about the length. One professor wanted a forty page paper, the other wanted sixty. Her mentoring professor was even more accommodating, agreeing to let her test out the next day.

  The last professor on her list was her Statistics professor and the bad blood between them made her antsy. The first time she had truly transformed was because of him. He had pissed her off so much with his posturing and rigidity, her wolf had burst free.

  She stood outside his door and waited as he finished up with another student, his manner curt and unyielding. As she sat down to wait, she inadvertently allowed bits and pieces of the conversation to drift into her heightened ears.

  “Professor, I need to pass this course. This is my last chance. If I don’t graduate, I lose out on my dream job. I am honestly willing to do anything and I mean anything, to pass.” Layla’s ears perked up, her brows furrowed at what sounded like a proposition, her concentration now on the conversation in the room.

  “Brittany, well…we both know that you need to pass this course. The only thing I could think of is, well, let’s just say you have to have an open mind.”

  The old guy sounded downright lecherous. Layla waited for him to continue, hoping against hope that this was something she would be able to use to her advantage.

  “I do have after-hours study sessions. Let’s say we meet here, in my office, tonight at ten o’clock?”

  She resisted the urge to gag as she listened to the voice that belonged to ‘Brittany’ accept the invite. Now she was armed with more ammunition. Nasty old creep, she thought as the door opened and a super skinny, preppy, brunette stepped out. Definitely not what she was expecting.

  Her professor looked up and frowned when she knocked on the door and entered, his ever present sneer adorning his face.

  “Ms. Donovan. Glad you could grace me with your presence and in my office no less.”

  Ignoring his sarcasm, she sat in the chair across from his desk. “Well, I thought it was time that I came by to see you.” She leaned back, completely at ease, confident after her eavesdropping.

  He frowned a
t her again and narrowed his eyes. “So, what can I help you with?” he asked curtly, “I am rather busy and as you can see, you are outside of my office hours.”

  Layla smiled. “I won’t take too much of your time.” She opened her purse, leisurely pulling out the independent research study paper agreement forms and handed them to him.

  “What’s this?” He turned the forms over in his hands.

  “Well, Academic Advising told me to ask you if I could do an independent research study to complete this course. It would also cover both the mid-term and final.” She waited for his response.

  His smile was slow and malevolent as he looked at her. “Unfortunately, Ms. Donovan, you do not qualify for the perks of an independent research study. According to school policy, the student must have an A, or a medical or economic necessity.”

  He looked over at her, his gaze lingering overly long at her breasts. “Seeing as how you do not have an A in the class and it seems as if you are fine health-wise and we both know that you can simply get a grant to cover your costs, I’m afraid I have to say no.”

  Layla took the papers he handed back and placed them into her purse with an exaggerated sigh. “Really, and I thought you would be able to help me.” She pulled out her phone and looked at it, pretending to read a text and ignored him when he sighed loudly.

  “Ms. Donovan, if you could quit wasting my time, I really have to leave.”

  She smiled at him sweetly. “Sorry, that was my best friend Brittany. She told me to ask about the after-hours study sessions?” Layla cocked her head. “After-hours study sessions? Really? That would be amazing!”

  His face turned red.

  “And I do have a note from my psychiatrist. It seems that since my neighbor was one of the people involved in that incident on campus last month, I really do have a medical necessity.”

  Pulling the papers out again, she put them on the desk in front of her. “Are you sure you can’t sign them, because I would hate to have to tell the Director of Academic Advising that I have to do the after-hours office hours instead.” She paused and held her finger to her chin thoughtfully. “I’m not sure if he would allow me to do that, but I can talk to Brittany later to see how it went as soon as she gets back tonight.”

  Before she could say anything else, he grabbed the papers and a pen and quickly signed the forms without even reading them.

  “Oh, is there a word limit? Any particular topic?”

  He shook his head wildly as he stuffed papers into his briefcase haphazardly. “I don’t care what your topic is and…I-I don’t know…thirty pages should be fine!”

  Layla smiled again. “Thirty pages? That’s kinda harsh, don’t you think? Maybe I should simply do the after-hours study sessions after all?”

  “NO!” the man shouted and then sobered. “I mean, no. Use your discretion. About twenty pages, then. Just get it to me before the Winter break and you’ll be fine.” He turned to leave. “If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment.”

  Layla nodded. “I understand.” She held up a hand as he was about to dash out of the room. “Can you put that in writing, please?” she asked. “The part about twenty pages, due before Winter break and on any topic?”

  She grinned wickedly as he scribbled the information down on her form, signed it again and threw the pen on the desk, racing out before she could say thanks.

  *

  Layla parked Brett’s car in the garage and walked to the house. It was eerily quiet. Martin’s truck was gone and so was her Aunt’s car, which meant that she was alone for the moment. She bounced up the stairs and flung her purse onto the couch.

  Now that she had her three independent research study papers, she could complete her degree without having to compromise anyone else. All she needed was a computer and the internet. She could stay at home, work at her leisure and get her stuff done.

  As much as he’d helped her, the Academic Director was a bit condescending when she had returned with all the paperwork.

  “See? All you had to do was ask nicely.”

  No, she thought, all I had to do was overhear him planning to fuck a student. And blackmail him a little. She wisely held her tongue as the paperwork was filed.

  Now, alone and decidedly more relaxed, she sat back on the couch, turned on the TV and aimlessly watched the end of a popular comedy show. She laughed at the antics of the grandmother and her dislike of her daughter-in-law before glancing at her phone. It was almost six. She texted Brett.

  Hey, where r u? She focused back on the TV as she waited for his reply.

  “…so far authorities are not saying that the four women are linked, but the resemblance to one another is staggering. Sources say that it is not like the wild animal that attacked and killed three people last month near Gulfport College. These women all had their throats cuts and they literally bled to death.”

  Layla watched the reporter, horror on her face. The channel flashed the picture of four women smiling into the camera and spoke a little about each woman. They were from different walks of life; two were college students, one a lawyer and the fourth, a teacher. Different ages, different body types. There was only one thing linking the four women and Layla shuddered as she stared at their pictures.

  Each woman looked like a carbon copy of her.

  ~*~

  Chapter 3

  Within minutes of seeing the news report, Martin sent her a cryptic message containing directions to meet him. She in turn sent Brett another text and left his car in the garage, not wanting to attract attention with the flashy vehicle. Especially given where she was headed. Walking the mile or so to the nearest bus station, she sat down and reread the message from Martin.

  Go to the place where we first met. It’s important. Tell no one where you are going.

  The place they had first met. Anyone else might interpret it as the Tampa Museum where Martin had first told her about her powers, but Layla recalled in vivid detail the very first time she’d truly met him; when she was ten and her mom was killed.

  Her old house was still there, abandoned after all these years, having been sold many times over, each family hoping to start fresh and each abandoning the place as if it was cursed. So, it sat there, empty and forgotten.

  The bus arrived, moving along Main Street before it turned off into the bus depot. She hurried on and sat in a far corner. A man got on after her, his baggy clothes dingy and grimy, his beard filled with filth. He moved towards her, sitting far too closely and the hair on her nape stood on end.

  On a bus mostly empty, he sat only one seat away and she frowned at the discomfort she felt. Not in the mood for company, she got up and moved towards the back and was dismayed when he moved as well and sat right across from her, his back to the bus driver.

  She studied him before she looked around. He was definitely not a Were, just creepy. There were few other people on the bus; an older woman facing the driver, her eyes closed as she leaned against the window, a teenager with his cellphone out and ear buds in listening to music and a young couple busy whispering and giggling as they indulged in a round of heavy petting and kissing. No one paid any attention to her or the man with her.

  He grinned then as if understanding her predicament; his teeth yellowed and rotting as he rubbed his hand along the front of his crotch. Her lip curled in disgust and he grinned again, opening his legs wider to get better access. His tongue was thick and wet as he licked his lips and he stared at her, almost daring her to do something before he began to unzip his pants, his hand reaching into the dirty material.

  Eyes narrowed, she stared at him as he continued to grin and then pulled her hoodie over her head, carefully concealing her face from the other occupants. She grinned wickedly, mouth wide as she allowed her fangs to descend.

  The man stopped moving and peered at her, his mouth gaped open in surprised fear.

  She raised a hand in a silent wave, this time allowing her fingers to transform slightly. Her nails grew extremely long as her han
ds became covered in fur. Her fangs started to protrude from her mouth and the man slowly moved his hand away from his crotch.

  “Boo!”

  Layla laughed as he jumped before racing to the front of the bus, yelling at the driver to stop. She quickly changed back as the bus slowed and the man raced away down the street. The bus driver looked back at her and she smiled at him and shrugged.

  When the bus finally reached her destination, she pulled on the cord signaling her stop. Her mind was ill at ease as she thought about the killings. It had to be a message for her. There was no way this was all coincidence. Four women killed the exact way that Wattan had been killed? Four women who resembled her. It had to be a warning. But from whom? Kuruk or Suzette? Or someone else waiting in the wings?

  The bus pulled away and she moved towards the government assistance homes in the older section of town. As she walked past a rundown apartment complex; the second floor landing littered with toys, she thought of her old friends. Jared, the boy she had the biggest crush on when she was ten, her friends at school, even her teachers. Many of them had probably moved away by now, especially after her mom’s horrific death.

  Cameras adorned the outside of the buildings as she turned into the housing area where she and her mom had lived. The homes were painted grotesque colors and contrasted horribly with the area. Smells assaulted her sensitive nostrils, reminding her of her childhood and the people who had lived here for years; jerk chicken from one of the Caribbean neighbors, some sort of curry from another apartment, even the smell of fresh laundry from the Laundromat on the corner.

  She moved up the walkway that led to her old house and recalled the day her mother had bought the cheap building; they’d both been so proud. To live the American dream and own their home was an accomplishment her mother had been so happy to achieve.

  Layla chuckled at the memory and closed her eyes as images from years before assaulted her. Now, the door hung from the jamb and broken glass littered the front. Before she could climb the few stairs and move to the door, Martin materialized from behind the building.