Guardians Of The Shifters

by Shannon Schoolcraft

  Guardians of The Shifters

  Shannon Schoolcraft

  Copyright © 2016 Shannon Schoolcraft

  This book is a work of fiction, names and places are of the author’s imagination. Any similarities are coincidental and any name brand names belong to that of their original owner and has nothing to do with the author.

  Cover designed by: Shannon Schoolcraft

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  ISBN-13:

  DEDICATION

  For my children Justin, Britnie and Camron. You guys are what keeps me up all night writing and for Chris, who keeps me going as well.

  CONTENTS

  On The Run (Book 1)

  In The Clear (Book 2)

  Safe At Last (Book 3)

  Other books by Shannon Schoolcraft

  Mine

  Troubled Lives

  The Stalker In Me

  The Carmen Stone Trilogy

  Dark Thoughts

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank Jackie Davies for being my editor, Tina Lovell for also editing , betta reading and her excitement in doing so. My twin for saying that I could do it (turns out I could). I would like to thank my other three brothers for making me the person I am today (so thanks for that). I would like to thank my sister-in-law’s for their support, it is greatly appreciated. I would like to thank my long term boyfriend Chris for supporting me and putting up with me through it all. Lastly I would like to thank the reader’s, I hope you enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. THANK YOU!!!

  Prequel

  May 5 1985

  I knew that I had to run, to protect my unborn child at all costs, I wasn’t going to let them get us like they did my husband. “Keep a bag packed at all times”, my beloved Jack drilled that into my head every chance he got. Running down a dark alleyway (more like wobbled) with one hand cradling my pregnant belly and my other hand clenching the strap of a navy blue backpack.

  I had to get somewhere safe, if not for me at least for my daughter. I threw quick and panicked glances over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being followed. I needed to find a church, any place that could hide us. A sharp pain rolled across my lower belly and I knew that my daughter was well on her way. My steps faltered as another sharp pain hit. Ducking down yet another back street alleyway in Florida I saw the lights of a church.

  Sending up a silent prayer I made my way towards it as fast as I could. Climbing the steps proved to be difficult but I couldn’t give up. Finally making it past the last step I stumbled towards the door. I started banging on the door while yelling. “Please help!” I looked over my shoulder to see two shadowy figures getting closer. Oh god. I banged on the door harder and almost fell to the floor as the door opened, I would have fallen if it wasn’t for the elderly woman catching me. She helped me into the church, right away I knew that it was a place for my people and I sighed with relief but it didn’t last long.

  My water broke which meant it was time. The older woman already knew what to do. I couldn’t speak for the contractions were rocking my body. I hadn’t realized that I was laying on something soft and that there were other people around me.

  “I’m going to need you to push now Jacqueline, can you do that?”

  I nodded. “Yes.” I whispered through clenched teeth.

  I pushed when she told me to, it was painful and hard and I wasn’t sure how long it took. I cried with joy when I finally heard my baby cry, but that joy was short lived. I knew that there was something wrong before they did. I smiled weakly at them.

  “Her name is Cora.” That was the last thing I remembered saying before darkness took a hold of me and my world faded to black.

  Chapter 1

  Present Day: Thirty years later.

  I don’t know who my real parents are or where I’m originally from. I’ve been bounced around from one foster care home to another, none of them keeping me for very long. The few that I remember have told me that I’m too weird and that my eyes are an un-natural shade of Amethyst. I didn’t really care what they said, I like my eyes. As for the weird part… I don’t know what they meant by that.

  I’ve always stood up for myself and apparently was a natural at fighting, even though I’ve never had the training. It just seemed to come natural to me. The few foster care people that I remembered didn’t take to kindly for a little girl kicking their asses whenever they raised a hand to me. Once I turned eighteen I grabbed the little stuff I had and skipped out of California and I never looked back.

  Here I am now at the ripe old age of thirty and living in Florida. My job wasn’t all that bad, for some reason stocking shelves and cleaning floors at the local Wal-Mart relaxed me. I mean, it’s not my ideal job but I didn’t mind it. It paid the bills and made sure I had food in my stomach. I helped pay for the lights, that’s all she would allow me to do. When I first arrived in Florida the first few years were hard. I didn’t know anyone and I didn’t have a place to rest my head except for a patch of grass under a tree in the park. Eating was almost nonexistent but I managed.

  A couple years of scrounging around looking for shelter and food I found a place that helped homeless people like me. They would let me stay there until I got on my feet or if something better comes along. I was there for almost a year when an elderly woman walked in and right behind her was what I assumed was a priest. But deep down somehow I knew that that was only their cover.

  They talked with the lady that ran the shelter for a little bit. That’s when the guy turned and looked right at me. He stared at me for a minute longer before turning back to the older woman that he came in with. I knew that staring was wrong, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were talking about me. My gut feeling turned out to be right. Sara {which was the shelter runner} started walking towards me and motioned for the church people to follow. I dropped my fork when the three of them stopped in front of my table and I couldn’t help but to ask.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Of course not Cora.” Sara said. “They would like for you to live with them.”

  I looked between the three of them. “This is a shelter, not an orphanage.”

  The older woman spoke up. “We know that dear child, but this is no place for someone like you.”

  I looked at her questioningly. “Someone like me, what the hell does that mean?”

  “Not what you think it does.” The guys said in a deep British voice. Now that he’s closer he looks a lot younger than I thought he was. He looked about my age with awesome green eyes, he was cute. And what’s with the preacher get up? That was the last memory I had and found myself squatting in front of a candy shelf with a bag of candy in my hands.

  That was eleven years ago when they came for me. I live in the basement under the church. Carla {the elderly lady} told me that I didn’t need a job, that there was no reason for me to have one. She just didn’t understand, I had to do something. I know that I’m on this earth for a very important reason and that reason is…I have no idea. I mean I can fight pretty well but I’m still not sure what my purpose in life is. I also know that Carla is hiding something from me, I can see it in her eyes every time she looks at me. Another odd thing, the guy that was dressed like a preacher, I haven’t seen him in eleven years, not since the day they came to the shelter.

  I don’t know, I think its best not to dwell on these kinds of things. All I want to do is finish my shift and go home. But little did I know…that home would never be the same again.

  Chapter 2

  After I finished restocking the shelves I went into the back of the store where it said “employees only” and changed from my work clothes to my street clothes. Once
I was back in my blue jeans and white t-shirt I looked at myself in the full length mirror. My long brown hair stopped at my slim but curvy waist. My boobs were average size, not to big, not to small but perfect (as guys have said). My arms and legs were pretty damn tone although I’ve never worked out a day in my life. My stomach was flat and also toned. My nose was perfect sized and my cheekbones were high and defined. As I stood there staring at myself I realized that my Amethyst eyes brought out my creamy skin tone. Even with a tan I knew that I was pretty. I don’t often stare at myself or think highly of myself either. For some reason today was different. I gave myself one last look before turning and almost running into a co-worker.

  “Sorry Max.”

  Shaking his head. “It’s okay Cora.”

  I gave him a small smile and proceeded to leave. “Cora?” I turned back to face him. He was standing there with his head tipped to the side.

  “Yes Max.”

  A slow smile graced his lips. “Be careful walking home.”

  Um…okay. “Always.” I mentally shook the weird encounter off and continued on my way out of the store. As soon as I stepped through the door a gust of warm wind blasted in my face and making my hair swirl around me. “Great.” I muttered under my breath. I swear when I find the time I’m going to cut my hair. Maybe I’ll have Carla do it when I get back to the church.

  With that last thought I pulled a hair tie from my front pants pocket and smoothed back the mess that was my hair and put it up the best I could. Of course the wind wasn’t helping any and so my pony tail ended up looking like rats nested in it. Sighing, I gave up and started walking through the parking lot being careful not to get hit by cars as they drove past.

  Today wasn’t a bad day, it was warm with clear blue skies and the sun shining brightly in the sky. Maybe I’ll stop at the local park on the way home. I stopped at the corner store to grab a bottle of water and a granola bar. I nibbled on my healthy snack as I walked down the sidewalk. But oddly enough, the granola bar wasn’t sitting well in my stomach so I threw the rest of it in a nearby trash can.

  An odd sensation ran up my spine making the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A shiver ran through my body and I rubbed my hands up and down my arms to try and chase the sudden chilliness away. The back of my neck prickled and I had a feeling that I was being followed. I dared a peek over my shoulder and almost stopped in mid-step. About fifty feet behind me there was a man damn near the size of a tank. If he was trying not to be obvious he failed entirely. He was dressed head to toe in black with a black baseball cap on backwards.

  I couldn’t bring myself to look up to his eyes. The deep scowl that was on his face made my adrenaline kick in. I quickened my pace and weaved my way through the other pedestrians. A few moved out of my way when I started to move faster until I was in a steady jog. Another quick glance over my shoulder told me that the man quickened his pace as well. My heart pounded in my chest and before too long I was running full speed ahead.

  I could hear two sets of shoes slapping against the cement, mine and my pursuers. Not knowing what this man intended to do only made me run faster. Angry shouts and surprised gasps followed me as I ran. I’ve never seen this man before, nor did I know what he wanted. The only thing that knew for sure was that I wasn’t going to stop and find out. From one look at him every bone in my body told me that he was dangerous and meant me harm.

  My legs screamed in protest but I kept going onward. I wasn’t planning to stop until I got to the safety of the church. I could still hear my pursuer behind me and he was gaining. I tapped into my adrenaline and somehow managed to run faster. Before too long the sounds of the man chasing me started to fade. The high arch of the church came into view and I sent up a silent prayer.

  The relief I felt was short lived when I noticed the doors hanging half way off their hinges. My steps slowed the closer I got to the doors. The windows on either side of me were completely busted, no glass was stuck in the grooves of the wood around it. You couldn’t really call them windows anymore because there was nothing left. My breathing came in quick pants and my ears started to ring. This did not look good.

  Glass crunched under the weight of my shoes as I slowly made my way inside. It was eerily quiet and the only thing that I could hear was the thumping of my heart. Digging my hand into my front left pants pocket I pulled out the blue and silver pocket knife Carla gave me on my twenty second birthday. She told me that it once belonged to my mother. I clutched the cold metal in my fist as I made my way completely inside.

  There was a chill that clung to the air, it wasn’t a normal go-grab-a-blanket chill, it felt like the icy claws of death. My heart skipped a couple beats when Carla’s name popped in my head. “Carla.” Her name was nothing but a whisper as it passed my lips. I hastily made my way through the church. I didn’t dare try to yell for her because I had a feeling that I wasn’t alone.

  I stealthily made my way through the up-turned pews careful not to make a sound. I quickened my steps when the stairs leading up to the bell tower came into view. Wood and glass crunched under my feet as I made my way up the stairs. The wood creaked on the forth step making me pause and hold my breath but only for a moment. I followed the winding stair case until I was at the top.

  The wooden door was splintered apart as if someone was thrown through it. A little beyond the door lay a body dressed head to toe in black. He or she wasn’t moving so it was safe to say they were dead or at least I hoped so. It was the second body that had me running in and kneeling down beside it. Every inch of skin that was exposed was covered in blood or had some kind of mark on it.

  Her chest barely rose and fell and it told me that she didn’t have much time left if any at all. With shaky fingers I moved her blood spattered hair out of her face. With tears in my eyes I spoke. “I’m here Carla.” Her eyelids slowly lifted and her face contorted in pain when she tried to speak.

  “You must run Cora.”

  A tear fell down my cheek. “I don’t--.”

  Somehow her hand found mine. “Now child, you must run now.”

  “Carla--.”

  “No, there is no time, there is a backpack under the stairs.” She moaned in pain. “It was your mothers.”

  “But Carla--.”

  “No Cora, they’ll be back, you must g-g-go.” After she struggled to get the word “go” past her cracked lips her chest lifted once more and didn’t move again. I watched as the little light she had left leave her grey eyes. I knelt there for a minute or two longer holding her bloody hand. I could have sat there longer but I’m not really sure. After smoothing back her hair I stood on shaky legs wiping the tears from my eyes and stumbling my way down the stairs.

  I found the navy blue backpack wedged under the bottom step. I know that she told me to run but I had to make a quick stop by my room. I quickly made my way through the debris and down the steps to the basement. I headed straight for my make-shift closet and grabbed my light blue hoodie. I pulled it over my head and slung the heavy backpack over my shoulder. I didn’t get a chance to reminisce in the memories this room held nor did I get to mourn the loss of the woman that was the closest thing that I had to a mother.

  A noise from above my head had my heart jack hammering in my chest and me bolting out a trap door that lead to an alleyway next to the church. I pulled the hood on my hoodie over my head and ran. I never looked back as I ran down the alleyway and dodging pot holes. I was on my own again for the first time in eleven years. I know that I couldn’t go back to work and I also knew that deep down…that my life would never be the same again.

  Chapter 3

  I wasn’t sure where to go and I knew that I couldn’t go back to the shelter because there was no way of knowing if the people that killed Carla would find me there and I wasn’t willing to take that chance. What I needed to do was find some place that I could lay low and see what Carla put in the backpack. Another thing I needed was coffee. Coffee always seemed to calm my nerves although it
wasn’t nervousness that I was feeling. I was downright scared, more scared than I have ever been and I was confused. What I’ve learned in my thirty years of life is that scared and confused don’t go well with each other and I was both.

  I pulled the hood farther over my head and hiked up the heavy backpack so that my other arm could go through the strap so that I had a better hold. I kept my eyes towards the ground and tried to blend in the best that I could once I got out in the open. The littlest noises made me jumpy and I didn’t like the way it made me feel.

  After about a half an hour of walking I found a café tucked between a dollar store and a movie rental store. The name on the café read in big red letters The Java Café. Making my way towards the door, I pushed instead of pulled. I ended up pushing instead of pulling a few more times until I got it right. When I stumbled my way through the door, a few people at nearby tables were looking at me and so was the brunette behind the counter.

  A good way to bring attention to yourself I chided myself. I ignored the stares and went straight to the counter. “Can I get a coffee with a double shot of French Vanilla creamer and two sugars?” It was out of my mouth in a rush of words. She didn’t say anything, she just nodded her head and went about to filling my order. As I waited for my coffee my fingers started drumming on the counter top, I do it out of a nervous habit. When she set the steamy star foam cup on the counter, I pulled a five dollar bill from my back pocket and dropped it on the counter. “Keep the change.” I said as I turned around and started to make my way towards a table in the back corner.