Tala

by Adrianna Morgan

  “Ow!” She yelped, rubbing her sore behind. “I am a sick woman, you know.” Martin looked at her with a raised brow and walked back towards the truck hidden off the road. He easily transformed back to his human form and after a moment, Layla joined him. She picked up the bottle of water and took a long drink, her still sore throat relishing the coolness. She looked up at Martin who was leaning against the truck, a towel draped around his neck. Although he tried to hide it, he looked worried. His lined face was full of trepidation and she knew it was because of the war.

  “You did well today,” he complimented her.

  Layla grinned. She couldn’t help it. Hearing a compliment from Martin was almost like winning the lottery. It was worth it. Her body still ached from the brutal training. So far she had learned a few tricks for hand to hand combat, weapons training and Were training. She was still working on the latter, but she knew she had a few days left. Martin was planning on leaving at the end of the week. He had a few contacts he needed to see and she was going to have to continue training on her own. She had ignored his comment about training with the young man and she knew he was curious as to why Brett was not around.

  Martin cleared his throat and Layla looked up at him again. He stared down at her with an unreadable look. “Layla, when we were training,” he began, “there were a few moments when you seemed to almost know the move I was about to make. Have you done that often?”

  She shrugged, not wanting to give up her secret when she was just figuring it out.

  He was silent for a moment before he reached out to her. “Don’t be afraid of it. Test its limits.”

  Layla looked at him in confusion and Martin sighed.

  “You don’t have to tell me right this minute,” he paused as if trying to put the words together, “but remember when I told you that some Weres are born with certain gifts that give them a slight advantage over the others? This may be yours. Cultivate your gifts. They only become stronger the more you use them.” With that he removed the towel from his neck and headed back into the clearing.

  When Layla walked back into the house, her aunt was leaving. She smiled as she watched the older woman walk to her car, Nali’s hand clasped in her own. She had never given the woman a chance, she realized. Her life may have been different. She may have even been a different person. But she still couldn’t change the fact that she was a Were. Her life may have stayed the same after all. She realized that an unexpected truce had been called with her aunt. They were reaching a new level of awareness and understanding about each other. It had started during her visit a month ago and her stay here was causing it to solidify. Things were looking up between the two of them and she was glad. Her aunt really was the only family she had and the only person who remembered her mother.

  Nali waved to her and Layla blew a kiss to the girl. She knew her aunt had an appointment with a social worker at the Florida Department of Children and Families about adopting or even fostering Nali. With Susan’s connections and Martin’s, they had managed to have the child placed with them for a few months while Susan took the required classes to foster her. It was only allowed because of the extenuating circumstances and a few strings pulled.

  She waved to the retreating pair and sighed as she walked into the shower. Another day of training and she still felt as if it was getting harder to learn everything. Or maybe it was simply because Martin kept kicking her ass. At least he wanted her to keep practicing her gift. May come in handy, he eluded. Layla closed her eyes as the warm water cascaded down her back and thought about the last few days she’d spent with Brett. She’d been attacked, beaten, and bruised and he’d held her and loved her.

  She shook her head at her sentimentality. It wasn’t as if he was going to make a comeback. He’d seen her; he knew what she’d thought and he still hadn’t tried to call her. He was a dick and she wasn’t about to be stuck feeling lovesick over some moron who couldn’t be faithful. She shook off the feelings of longing and self-doubt and went through her training moves in her head. It helped to get her mind off Brett.

  *

  Brett felt the rage build in his chest. He was pissed. The little bitch had played him. He eyed Suzette as she walked over to him, already transformed. He refused to look away from her eyes, meeting her yellow orbs with bravado. She walked around the chair he sat tied to. They were in some big house in Tampa, near the water and the evening breeze did little to soothe him.

  Suzette stared at him. “How did you survive?” she asked, almost incredulously.

  He shrugged, the movement causing his injured shoulder to blaze in pain. He gritted his teeth. “Guess you didn’t do as good a job as you’d thought.”

  She seemed to digest this information. “I guess I’ll have to rectify that this time.” She smiled and her fangs gleamed in the darkened room. Her claws clicked on the marble floor as she walked around his chair again as if his very existence fascinated her. She leaned low and breathed into his face. “I know you know where Layla is. I can smell her all over you.” She straightened and looked at him. “Even now, her scent clings to you. It is entwined. We will find her and when we do…” She winked at him.

  Brett swallowed his fear. He knew he could take her if he was at full strength, but being ambushed by ten Weres while sleeping did not leave him in the best of health. His shoulder was probably dislocated and he could feel the tendons stretched to their limits. The scratches and scrapes did not compare to the pain in his ribs from the kicks and punches he’d received. At the moment, it still hurt like hell to breathe, but he would die before he let her see his pain.

  He looked over at Amy. She sat lounged on the couch, still wearing the low rise jeans and an almost transparent white shirt. She played an online game on her phone as if she had not just handed someone over to her cousin to be tortured. She felt his gaze on her and looked up. She smiled and shrugged, and then went back to her game.

  Suzette walked over to window outlined behind the large desk. She held her hands behind her back, her arms overly long even for a transformed Were. He could see her mind working and he wasn’t sure if she was trying to figure out how he’d survived or how to make sure he was really dead this time. Either way, he didn’t want to know. She seemed to arrive at a decision, because she turned back to him and smiled before addressing the rest of the room.

  “We will use him to flush her out. We will torture him and spill his blood.” She held up her hand as the room exploded into excited snarls and snaps. “We will make her suffer. She and her friend killed five of our own.” She looked back at Brett, a vicious look on her face, “And we intend to get even.”

  *

  Layla sat flipping through the channels on the TV when a picture caused her to pause. She sat up and flipped the channels back until she found one of the local news stations.

  The dark skinned news woman held a large microphone to her full lips and stared intently into the camera. Her eyes were wide as if she were horrified. She nodded as she listened to something the news anchors were saying but Layla had caught the set in the middle of the sentence, “…sources say that the bodies of both Mr. Watson and Miss Soto were found…I believe, he said, torn to shreds.” The anchor woman gasped and the news reporter nodded gravely. “They were found here,” she motioned behind her at the two-story building in the background, “Near Gulfport College by a friend of the pair.” She swallowed audibly. “The police have warned that this is a grisly scene and are asking anyone with information to come forward.

  Layla sat silently, a chill at her back. She stared at the pictures of Tami and Derek that the station had up on the screen. It showed a smiling Tami grinning broadly for the camera and a slightly inebriated Derek. She watched the recorded footage of the coroners wheeling out the two black body bags, the contents obviously not in one piece, judging from the random bulges. She saw the flashing lights in front of the apartment building that had been her home for the last five years of her life and ran to the bathroom as she felt the conten
ts in her stomach shift. She returned as the report dragged on about the couple.

  “Now sources say that these murders are similar to another murder earlier this evening. A popular staff member of the Gulfport Administration office,” the reporter paused, looking at a piece of paper in her hand, “A Mrs. Gloria Cantrell was also found brutally murdered. She was, and I must warn you that what I am about to say is rather graphic,” The reporter held up the scrap of paper quickly to her face. “She was disemboweled and they are saying that parts of her internal organs were missing.” The news woman nodded gravely as the anchor woman broke in to express her sympathies to the families of the three people.

  Layla ran to the bathroom again and stared at herself in the mirror. Was this what her life was destined to be? Carnage and death following her every move? She could hear the drone of the TV and she fell to the floor as she felt the hot sting of tears against her cheeks. First her mother had died because of her, then Cantrell and now Tami and Derek. Who else was going to suffer because of her? She felt frustration rage through her, here she was with all this power and she couldn’t save people not even connected to the stupid war. Her father, the great all powerful Mai-coh had cursed her to live a life of misery. She knew that whoever was around her would never be safe. She would never be able to save them. First Suzette, then Kuruk. How many others were in the shadows waiting for a chance to kill someone else she knew?

  The pain washed over her and she screamed in frustration. It was not fucking fair. She felt her control start to slip and her animal rushed to the surface. She didn’t care if she transformed. Maybe someone would see her. Maybe they would call the police and they would put a bullet in her and put her out of her misery. She felt the full animal power come over her and she raised her head to the mirror. Yellow eyes tinged with red, glared back at her and she raised a hairy, claw tipped paw to the glass before shattering it.

  She raised her head and howled mournfully. Then transformed back to her human form as she started to calm down. She sniffed and blew her nose on a wad of toilet paper, wincing as she saw a tinge of blood.

  Her phone buzzed. She picked it up without thinking and felt a wave of relief as she heard her Aunt Susan’s voice.

  “Layla? You okay?” Her aunt sounded distant and Layla nodded woodenly before answering.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” She assured to older woman. “You guys alright?”

  “Yes,” Susan answered quickly, sensing Layla’s need for reassurance. “We’re with Martin. He says he taking us somewhere safe and to tell you not do anything until he gets there.”

  Layla sniffed. “That’s good. Call me when you get there?”

  Her aunt assured her she would.

  Layla’s phone buzzed again and she picked it up quickly, surprised as she heard Shawna’s voice.

  “Hey, you okay?” she heard the hesitation in the other girl’s voice.

  She sighed, “Yeah.”

  “You watched the news?”

  Layla nodded, “Yeah.” The word sounded hollow and brittle in her throat. She could hear the sadness in her friend’s voice as the other girl echoed her statement.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” the other girl said, the apology hanging between them.

  Layla smiled, “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Good.” Shawna whispered and then hung up.

  Layla walked back into the bathroom and washed her face. Her eyes were puffy and swollen and her nose was red. She could feel the heat of her face from her crying bout and splashed more cold water onto her overheated skin. She studied her face in the harsh light of the bathroom. At least her family was safe. For now. Martin was taking care of Aunt Susan and Nali and she could take care of herself. She hoped. She started to walk into her bedroom when something on the TV made her stop.

  “There is new information regarding the grisly murders here near the Gulfport College campus. Preliminary forensic findings and police reports are saying this may be the work of a large animal, probably a wolf or a bear of some kind. However, police are asking the public for their help. They are looking for a woman who may have some connection to this case. The police aren’t saying that she is a suspect, just that she may be involved in some way.”

  Layla took a deep breath as she watched her picture flash across the screen.

  *

  Chapter 9

  Layla walked into the police station. The same one where she had been processed and arrested for theft. She walked up to the front desk, careful to keep her face away from the horde of reporters hounding the Chief of Police and the person she assumed was a Public Relations Liaison. She handed her identification to the officer at the desk, watching the man’s face change from puzzlement to excitement as he read her name. As if they could sense the change in the officer’s aura, a few reporters ran down the hall towards her, microphone extended. She turned away as the others recognized her and as a flood, they all poured in around her.

  “Layla, Layla, why are they questioning you?” “Are you involved in the murders?” “Do you know who is responsible?” “What is your connection to the murders?”

  Layla felt the push of the information hungry mob around her and squeezed closer to the desk. Her pleas of “no comment” fell on deaf ears as the reporters moved closer. She felt hands grab at her and she turned wildly, slapping them away. They reached for her again and roughly dragged her toward a door marked “No Unauthorized Entry.” She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the officer close the door.

  “You alright?” he asked.

  Layla nodded her eyes wide with terror.

  The officer walked over to a cooler and poured her a cup of water. She took it and gulped the liquid accepting his request for more. He walked down the short hallway and opened a door to a small room. It contained a table and two chairs. She followed and he gestured for her to have a seat.

  “The lead investigators just want to ask you some questions,” he said, “They’ll be here shortly.” He closed the door and she could hear the click of his uniform shoes on the linoleum tiles of the station as he walked her away.

  She instantly regretted her decision to go to the police station. The last time she was here, she was practically accused of stealing the money from the Bursar’s office. Today, they would probably pin the murders of Cantrell, Tami and Derek on her too. She wanted to go home, but she knew there was no turning back. She was here now and she was not leaving until they were satisfied.

  An officer walked back in with a manila folder in his hands. He was dressed in a simple suit and she knew he was one of the lead detectives on this case. He looked like a no nonsense kind of guy. His dark hair was cropped short and he had a sprinkling of grey in the goatee around his mouth. He cleared his throat before sitting in the chair in front of her and Layla nervously held the Styrofoam cup she had the water in.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked, looking up from the notes.

  She smiled shakily, “Fine.”

  He looked at her, “Do you know why we asked you here?”

  She shook her head.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Well, right now you are the only thing that connects the victims. You and the college campus itself.”

  Layla stared back at him, wide eyed.

  “What can you tell us about the victims that you think may be relevant to this case?”

  Layla sighed and told them about her relationships with Cantrell, Tami and Derek. She spoke about her fight with Tami, the girl’s accusations, her attack in her apartment and the problem with Cantrell. She could see his disbelieving look about her attack until she showed him the scars, both on her back and the little white lines on her face. He blanched a bit as she described her ordeal without actually mentioning Werewolves. By the time she was done, she was convinced the police force was going to hire licensed hunters to try and take care of their little wolf problem. Right now, she had a little wolf problem of her own to take care of.

  *


  Brett was disgusted but he kept quiet. With Mai-coh’s blood in his veins, his body was mending itself, but the constant beatings were making that more difficult. He bided his time, content to play the pitiful human and let the Suzette’s goons have their fun. He blocked the pain by imagining all the things he would do to them when he freed himself. They had done a good job searching him for weapons, but had missed the small blade he kept taped to the bottom of his foot. This wasn’t the first time he’d been kidnapped by Weres and he was almost always prepared. They had only taken him by surprise, but they hadn’t made him as defenseless as they’d hoped.

  He kept his gaze lowered to keep up the ruse and to avoid looking at the large bucket on the table. The red liquid inside made a sloshing noise and he resisted the urge to gag. He was no stranger to blood, nor did he think himself ignorant of the atrocities Suzette and her pack were willing to commit. But the bucket of human organs and blood was bit too much to handle on an empty stomach. His shoulder was almost mended and he stifled a groan as the newly strengthened tendons pulled the bone back into place. He breathed deeply, feeling the internal ache as his ribs mended themselves and his shoulder corrected its shape. He tried to speed the healing by concentrating and closed his eyes to allow the power to course through him.

  His thoughts turned to Layla. He was certain Suzette had some plan for her. He needed to mend as quickly as possible to be able to help her. He narrowed his eyes as one of the Weres stumbled close to him, his body reeking of alcohol. He swallowed his distaste as he watched the Were pour some of the blood into a tumbler and add a splash of whiskey before he put it to his lips and took a long gulp.