The Lunar Curse (The Ayla St. John Chronicles, #2)

by C. J. Pinard

  Done with my eavesdropping, I went to the stairwell with my shopping bags and proceeded to trek up them until I reached the sixth floor. Obviously, that woman was my downstairs neighbor, and obviously, she was a snitch. No more jealousy-induced fights allowed, I vowed.

  After putting everything away, I quickly changed into black leather pants and a blood-red T-shirt. I shrugged on my black leather jacket and made sure the straps to my weapons were firmly in place around my waist before I grabbed my little purse.

  As I flew down the stairs, I felt a little invigorated. Once I got outside, I checked my surroundings to make sure no creeps were lurking, and got into my car, and sped down the road.

  The Starbucks wasn’t far, and when I walked in, I saw Evan and Karina there waiting for me, both of them sipping on coffee.

  I acknowledged them before going to the counter and ordering a chai latte. Once it was ready, I sat down at their table and said, “What’s up?”

  Evan slid a manila envelope over to me and said, “Open it.”

  Obeying, I lifted the flap, and took out its contents. An eight-by-ten color photograph of a man sitting in a restaurant, clearly taken from a distance and through the restaurant’s window, was the first I saw. The next photo was similar. The next, him walking down the street with a scantily-clad woman on his arm. The man looked to be in his fifties, if that, and wore expensive clothes.

  I looked at my friends. “Who is this guy?”

  “Vampire, believe it or not,” Karina started. “Was turned in his late forties, which was about twenty years ago. It has been to his advantage, too, because younger vampires look up to him like he’s really old because he claims to be over two hundred years old. But he’s a liar. He’s nothing but a teen vamp.”

  I laughed at her analogy of his vampire age. Baby vamp... teenage vamp. Did that make her a senior citizen vamp? I kept that comment to myself and said, “Okaayyy... but besides the dumb lie, what’s his deal? Like, is he not following the rules?”

  Evan shook his head. “Not at all. He thinks he’s a god. Feeds on humans and kills them. Destroys young vampires when he perceives they’ve disrespected him. Keeps human blood slaves for himself and his minions. He’s just a cruel individual and while they’ve given him many chances to stop the behavior, the Vlasé has had enough of—”

  I was about to take a sip of my latte, but set it down again. I looked at him incredulously. “Wait. You’re telling me you two work for the Vlasé?”

  Evan chuckled. “Work for them? No. Take their money for contract killings of rogue vampires? Absolutely. We don’t take any jobs that we aren’t sure are legit, though. My brothers do the checking, then give us the jobs. And that’s what we’re training you for. We think you can get close enough to this guy to take him out.”

  I nodded, then picked my drink up and took a sip. After the hot, spicy tea slid down my throat, I said, “Okay. Good to know. So what’s the dude’s name?”

  “Sheldon Wells,” Karina said. “It’s his real name, too, hasn’t bothered in getting an alias. We’re told he’s from the East Coast, so he probably figures no one here in Colorado knows him.”

  I chuckled. “Smart, yet stupid.”

  “Agreed,” Evan said.

  “So, where are we doing this?” I asked, my body beginning to buzz with excitement; my stomach beginning to swirl with anticipation. I had to be one sick individual to get excited over murdering someone—something.

  Karina inclined her head toward the door of the Starbucks and said, “He’s having a late dinner at Chez LaRue about two blocks down. We’ve watched his habits and we know that after he dines, he tends to walk a few blocks until he finds a prostitute, then he takes her home. We know the ones he prefers hang out about four blocks east of here. You’ll wait two blocks east, and strike while he’s walking alone.”

  I grinned. “Sounds fun.”

  Evan chuckled. “I’m glad you find this fun. And I mean that sincerely.”

  “If you don’t love what you do, then do what you love, right? I’m lucky I found my calling so early.”

  Karina grinned at me, her coffee cup paused at her lips, “Your calling? That’s pretty cool. You definitely have a gift.”

  I sucked down the last of my latte and stood. “Let’s go.”

  We threw our cups into the trash can near the exit, and walked out into the brisk night.

  “Who’s the guy he’s having dinner with?” I asked, pointing to the restaurant where Sheldon Wells sat with a plateful of untouched food, his wine glass to his lips. He seemed to be completely enraptured in whatever his dinner mate was saying.

  “We don’t know who he is, just that he’s human,” Evan answered. “He seems to have a lot of business dinners with humans. We haven’t quite figured out what ‘business’ he has.” He made finger quotes as he said the word business.

  “Well, it doesn’t really matter, I suppose, since he’ll be dead by sunrise.” I grinned wickedly at my trainers.

  “I do love your attitude,” Karina said, high-fiving me.

  We watched as the server brought the bill to the table, to which Sheldon quickly snatched up. He made a large production of pulling out his wallet and laying a one-hundred dollar bill on the small tray the bill had been delivered on. Then he waved his hand dismissively at something the server had said.

  Sheldon and the man stood up, shook hands, and headed toward the door. While his date produced a ticket for the valet, Sheldon proceeded to walk east down the street, just as Evan predicted he would.

  “Go about two blocks east and wait for him,” Evan whispered to me.

  I gave a brief nod and blitzed down the street, stopping at the Third Street corner. I was quite enjoying my new skill. I found blitzing to be very easy now that I knew how to. I could see why Evan and Karina were having such a hard time trying to teach me. It wasn’t something that could be described in words.

  Skulking into the shadows, I crouched down low, waiting for my target to pass. I was rewarded when Sheldon came into view, strolling down the street, whistling out a tune in his very expensive business suit and black coat without a care in the world.

  I spotted the women before he did. Four ladies of the night, all of different sizes, colors, and shapes, came slinking around the corner of Third and Rio Grande, approaching the vampire with their painted lips and short skirts.

  Sheldon smiled when he saw them. I watched from across the street as his gaze raked over their scantily-clad bodies. His focus seemed to land on the tallest one, an olive-skinned beauty with exotic good looks and jet-black hair that cascaded down her back and teased the top of her perfectly curved butt.

  I was happy he had a distraction; I would use it to my benefit.

  Sheldon waved off the other women, and they walked away. As he gripped the hand of the exotic beauty, he seemed completely enraptured by her. The diversion would pay off—for me, at least.

  As they strolled hand-in-hand, I tilted my head to the side, contemplating on how I was going to take this guy out. I didn’t want to harm the obviously human prostitute, but I didn’t see how this scenario would end without her getting hurt—or at least exposed to our world in a way she should never have to.

  Evan was in a car about two blocks away. I pulled out my phone and sent Evan a text:. I need a distraction. A little help?

  The reply was immediate: What do u need?

  Me: The vamp has a whore with him. I need you to act like a mugger or something. I don’t want to hurt the human.

  Evan replied: U got it.

  Before I could barely blink, Evan was standing on the sidewalk, hidden in the shadows of the corner they were approaching.

  Once they reached the corner, Evan popped out and grabbed the prostitute’s arm. “Where’s my money, bitch?” he asked, yanking her into the deserted street.

  Confusion and fear colored both the prostitute’s and Sheldon’s faces. The woman then screamed, “Get your hands off me!” and began with futility to squirm out
of Evan’s superhuman grip.

  “Hey, I don’t know you, man, but I would advise you get the hell out of here,” Sheldon said, trying to sound tough and commanding. But we knew better.

  Evan laughed, and even threw Sheldon a flash of yellow eyes.

  “Wolf... fuck,” Sheldon stammered, and then turned in the opposite direction, where he unfortunately ran into me.

  “Hi,” I said with a grin.

  His gaze was angry. “What the hell...?” He tried to scoot around me, but I blocked his path. He looked stressed, and chanced a glance behind him before trying to circumvent me again. One more glance behind him showed that Evan had disappeared from sight, so he turned to face me once more. Sheldon raked his gaze from my boots to my ponytail. “Well, hello, blondie.”

  Biting back a scowl at the nickname, I purred, “Sheldon, is it?”

  Surprise colored his face as he replied, “How do you know my name?”

  I slunk forward, the Dagestan dagger behind my back. With a smile on my lips, I murmured, “I know a lot of things, Sheldon. Are you in a hurry? Have somewhere you need to be?”

  He looked confused, but then quickly put a confident mask on his features. Raising his chin, he said, “As a matter of fact I do.” He looked down briefly to adjust the cufflinks on his wrists, then moved his brown-eyed gaze back to mine. “Not really, you wanna go somewhere and... talk, sweetheart?”

  I took a step in his direction, wrapped my arms around his neck, and looked up into his eyes. Unfortunately for him, he hadn’t noticed the dagger in my right hand.

  With all the confidence I could muster, I leaned up and whispered in his ear. “Here’s what’s up, you filthy piece of shit. Your days of murdering humans and vampires is over.”

  With that, I slammed my dagger into the back of his neck, and then yanked it out just as quick, blood dripping from it to the concrete below. He jumped back in surprise, his eyes wide with fear and rage. Before he could stagger out of my reach, I jammed the weapon into his chest. Black blood blossomed across the white dress shirt he wore underneath the suit jacket, and when I removed the blade from his chest, I watched with satisfaction as he fell to the ground, clutching his chest.

  “Why,” he managed to eke out as he lay there dying.

  “Because you don’t deserve to be a vampire,” I gritted out, the bloody dagger still gripped in my fist.

  With wide eyes, he looked up at me before he began to turn pale, then a scary gray. Once that color spread to the rest of his body, his skin began to crack until it dissipated into nothing but ash underneath the expensive suit he left behind.

  I bent down and used the sleeve of his discarded shirt to wipe off my beloved dagger, and then slid it effortlessly back into its sheath on my right hip.

  The Grants were standing behind me, and I heard Evan whistle through his teeth.

  I bit back a smile and turned around with my hands on my hips. “Okay, so do you have a real job for me, or was that just practice?”

  Evan’s gaze flicked down to the ash, the clothing, then to his wife, then back to me. “Practice? Maybe... but it appears we’re beyond that now.” He handed me a thick envelope. I held his gaze for a hard second, and then peered inside. There, I saw enough cash to pay my all bills for a few months, with enough drinking money left over.

  The couple quickly put the deceased vampire’s clothes into a bag and vacuumed up the ashes before we blitzed back to the coffee shop where our cars were parked.

  Chapter 21

  On the rooftop of Moon Chasers, Beckett and I sat sipping cocktails with an electric fire pit between us. I always loved coming up here rather than staying inside where it was stuffy and full of so many smells it made my stomach churn. Recently, the bar had revamped—no pun intended—the entire rooftop to be a hangout, with padded patio-type furniture, fire pits, and a full bar, complete with human bartender at the southeast corner of the roof.

  This rooftop was where Beckett and I had, in a way, found each other. It was where I discovered I could fly. Literally and figuratively. Sure, I could jump really far and fast, but it wasn’t like I could soar through the sky like Superman. The last few months had been intense; all the learning I’d had to do, between the flying and the blitzing... the training and the use of weapons. I wondered when I would be able to look at the beautiful dagger Aden had given me without getting emotional. Every time I looked at Austyn’s name on it, I was overwhelmed with sadness. It had been years since he’d died, and I still felt a pit of grief in my belly at his loss.

  With a sigh, I pushed his silly, beautiful face from my memory for now, and looked at Beckett. His perfectly styled dark-blond hair looked like it could use a cut, and playful but wise eyes regarded me carefully. “You’re a million miles away, girl.”

  “That, I am,” I replied, crossing one leg over the other, which wasn’t very easy in skintight leather pants.

  “Talk to me,” Beckett implored.

  With a sigh, I set down my gin and tonic. “I feel guilty about the breakup with Ryder. I feel guilty about wanting Kellan. I feel guilty about letting Alexander go. I feel guilty about the fact that Alexander, or his wife, could be harming their kid right now.”

  Beckett stared at me for a hard minute before I finally looked away. With a sigh, he also set his drink down and came around the table to sit next to me. “Ayla. Feeling guilty about things isn’t going to change them. I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but I will say this; only you can control what you do with those feelings. You and Ryder were great once, but you’re moving in polar opposite directions, sweetie. It’s not your fault... or his. Life’s circumstances have taken you to different chapters of your lives. I think it’s great he’s pursuing a career with the BSI. But Kellan... he’s old, and most likely knows what he wants and won’t stop until he has it.”

  I sighed and picked up my drink. “I know all this... in my head. I really do, Beck.” I pierced him with a sincere look. “It’s my heart that’s having a hard time catching up. What’s wrong with me?”

  He laughed, that wonderful laugh that always made me feel better, no matter what was going on. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his jeans and clasped his hands together. “Nothing is wrong with you at all, honey. You’re a“—he held up his arms in a genie-style pose, crossing one arm over the other—“beautiful disaster.” When he relaxed against the chair, he inclined his head at the tattoos on my outer forearms.

  I looked down at the pink and blue ink. I stroked the word ‘beautiful’ on my right arm with the fingertips of my left hand, and looked up at my friend. “I got these tats because that was how I felt at the time. I had just found out I was not human, but yet... I still felt beautiful for whatever reason. Beautiful as a human girl; beautiful as a sleek, white wolf. But... deep inside my soul, I knew I was a disaster. Learning I was wolf had devastated me. I didn’t want that, like not at all. I knew I was a big ol’ mess. I wish I’d been warned that I was a werewolf, but I couldn’t go back and change the fact that I hadn’t been. That’s why I had ‘disaster’ tatted on the other arm. I had committed murder as the wolf. I’d killed Linden’s vampire friend, or brother, or whatever he was, and my mind was a big, fat mess—a disaster.”

  Beckett looked at me with softness and sympathy swimming in his eyes. “You may have, girlfriend... but his vengeance had been completely uncalled for. First of all, Linden’s an Old One—a very old and smart vampire, so for him to have let a young and inexperienced vamp roam free in the mountains of Colorado was a very careless mistake. Secondly, you killed him because you, too, were young and inexperienced, goaded to do so by your pack, if I recall what you told me. Linden knows the rules: come into the other’s territory, you risk your life. But he broke those rules when he killed Austyn just for the thrill of it; just to exert his power.” Beckett picked up his drink and took a swig, then set it down.

  With a shake of his head, he added, “Oh, and there’s no way that the vamp you killed was his actual brother, anyway. M
ore like one of his many progenies.”

  “I thought so,” I replied, using the little black straw from my drink as a chew toy. “But I’m still gonna kill him, Beck.” I took the straw from my mouth and pointed at him with it. “Not someone close to him... not one of his friends... him.”

  Beckett reached over and put his hand on my arm. “I know, sweetie, I know. And I hope it gives you the peace you need to move on.”

  I stared back and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. Then I looked away from his caring gaze. “I don’t think it will, but the guy is evil and needs to go.” I reined in my emotions with a deep breath and continued, “I know Kellan works for him in some capacity—”

  Just then, the rooftop band—a new thing Moon Chasers has been trying out—began to play a song. A few commanding drumbeats from the drummer, and then the twangy zing of the electric guitar began to fill the night.

  Beckett immediately got up and sat next to me so he could hear me better. Both of us had exceptional hearing, but that came with a price. We could also hear the band much louder than the average human. Although I couldn’t tell the difference between when I was a teen and would go to a concert and it would seem extra loud, to now. Before my first transformation, my senses hadn’t been as magnified as they were now.

  With wide, curious eyes, Beckett looked at me, his drink still in his hand. “What do you mean Kellan works for Linden? I’m confused.”

  “In one of those stupid blackout-vision things... I saw Kellan go and talk to him. Now, I can say this, he didn’t seem to be too thrilled in having to report in with him. He seemed almost, uh, annoyed.”

  With his brow dipped in confusion, he replied, “That is bizarre... and you couldn’t see where, exactly, this was?”

  I shook my head. “No. But, I don’t think it’s far from here. In fact, the house looked similar to the one I went to on the night”—I lowered my voice just enough to be heard over the screaming guitar—“the night I killed Elda. It definitely looks like something the Vlasé would invest in.”

  “So you think Linden is part of the Vlasé?” Beckett asked, completely enraptured in my story.