A female figure stood at the PRDI's front door, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. The black and white image of her looked over her shoulder and Davis narrowed his eyes. It was definitely the new arrival. She looked just like her photograph. There was something familiar about her, something that troubled him, but he couldn't quite place it.
A moment later, her finger touched the buzzer and the sound rang throughout the room. Davis shut it off quickly by hitting the buzzer console on his security counter. He then hit the button to activate the intercom for the outside.
"There is an intercom to your right. Press down on the red button to state your name and business here,” he said in a monotone, reciting the instructions for new arrivals and unknowns from heart. “When you are done, release the button."
"My name is Nola Anderson,” she said, her voice slightly wavering. “I'm here to start learning about things?” She finished in a question.
Davis waited a moment, to see if she would clarify. When she didn't, he hit the intercom again. “What kind of things?"
Nola looked uncertain. Her eyes flickered up, toward the camera, then back over her shoulder. She hit the button again, leaning close to it.
"Werewolf things,” she barely whispered.
It was her, he finally decided. The photograph resemblance was spot on and her name and purpose confirmed it. He nodded, though she couldn't see it, and hit the release for the door lock.
Even from the security room, he heard it click loudly in the downstairs foyer. He watched Nola on the monitor. She hesitated a moment but pushed open the door and entered the PRDI.
Davis didn't wait to see her shut the door. He left the security room and exited to the right of the downstairs foyer. The spacious room allowed for many echoes and he heard her footfalls as she stepped further into the place and stop.
Nola stood just in the doorway, the heavy wooden door closing behind her with an audible thud. She jumped slightly and spun to look behind her. She spotted Davis immediately and froze.
"Hi,” she said tentatively. “I'm Nola."
Davis didn't respond. He studied her. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail that swung just above her shoulders. Her eyes, a rich deep brown, stared right into his. Once more, he thought he recognized her from somewhere, but he couldn't quite place it.
He sniffed the air, trying to catch her scent but he came up with nothing. Being a half-blood had its disadvantages, including the inability to sniff out others of their kind unless they were full-bloods. Davis felt a slight growl start at the back of his throat but masked it as a cough.
He cleared his throat. “Glen should be with you in a moment.” He studied her a moment longer. She was dressed in a brown leather jacket and jeans. A white, ruffled shirt and designer boots finished the ensemble and Davis had to admit it had a stunning affect. Her earrings bobbed when she nodded. She looked to be about his age, but could've been younger.
"All right,” she said. “What's your name?"
"Davis,” he obliged then disappeared back into the security room. He had responsibilities, and wasting time out here with a new arrival was not among them. The door slammed behind him, leaving Nola alone in the foyer.
But she was not left unwatched. He resumed his seat at the security terminal and watched her black and white image once again on the monitor. She shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other then set down the heavy-looking duffel bag. Her gaze scanned the room.
Davis couldn't help but feel a little bad for leaving her alone, but he couldn't help it. Something about her rubbed him the wrong way. It was something in her eyes, something in the way she carried herself. He let out a breath as he continued to watch her.
She took a few steps forward, turning a full circle. Her gaze circled with her, eyeing the walls, the carpet, the fixtures...
And the cameras.
Her gaze flickered to the camera he was watching, she seemed to stare right at him. He sat up in his seat and stared back. He narrowed his eyes, though she shouldn't be able to see the suspicion in them.
It seemed it was an eternity before her lips spread slowly across her face into a smirk that was undeniably sinister.
Then hair on the back of Davis's neck stood up for real.
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Chapter Three
He was cute, she decided, but she knew he wasn't her type. Definitely, not her type. Still, she would enjoy teasing him, if she could.
Her gaze roved the room, eyeing the rich tapestries and antique fixtures. She quickly found where the cameras were and she memorized their locations. She knew he must be watching one of them, and just for kicks she smirked.
It wasn't as much fun as she had thought it would be since she couldn't see his reaction. Bored, she looked away from the camera and turned her eyes to the stairs. She sniffed first, catching the scent of full-blood werewolves and humans. From this distance she could recognize that much, but there were still things she did not understand, things she needed to know.
And she knew this was the perfect place to start. Several weeks ago she had sent in her application for admittance, and it had been accepted. As of two minutes ago, when she stepped into the Institute, she was a student and a member of the PRDI. She was ready to begin what she had come here to do: to learn, to discover.
Her sensitive hearing picked up the sounds of footsteps, she watched as a male and an obviously pregnant female started down the stairs toward her. Immediately, she caught their scent. She recognized the male as the Head of the PRDI. His goateed face and long black hair were unmistakable as she had seen his picture in the newspaper several times.
Nola smiled widely and crossed the floor to meet them at the foot of the stairs. Glen supported the pregnant woman but she waved her hand and he moved away. She leaned against the banister as he stepped forward and took front. He wiped a hand on his jeans and extended it to her.
"Hello, you must be the new arrival. I'm Glen Cole, Head of the PRDI.” His hand was warm and his grip firm. Nola looked up into his dark brown eyes and smiled.
"I'm Nola Anderson. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Hello, Nola.” The woman spoke up and Nola turned her attention to her. Her smile faltered for a moment, but quickly returned, brighter than ever.
"Hi. You are—?"
"Rose. Rose Barnett. I'm an instructor here. Well, sort of an instructor..."
Glen chuckled a bit as Rose came to stand beside him. “Rose is my assistant. She helps new people when they arrive, to better get them get acquainted with the building and how it runs. She'll be showing you around in the days to come."
There was a burning pause where Nola said nothing. She stared at Rose, taking in her appearance. Their eyes met and she blinked once.
"I look forward to it,” she answered finally, but it sounded forced, even to her.
Rose looked at her carefully and furrowed her brow. “Have we met before?"
Nola shook her head and took one step back. “No, I don't think so. I've never been here before."
"You look familiar..."
"I have that kind of face. Everyone thinks they've met me before."
"Must be,” Rose said, her voice trailing off. She shrugged slightly and turned to Glen. He was looking at Nola, his face impassive.
"Rose will show you to your room and help you get settled. The kitchen is down the hall to your right and there's a recreation room to the left."
Nola nodded, her eyes leaving Rose and turning back to him. The smile she gave him was radiant. “And your office?"
"It's upstairs, last door on the left."
"So I can just come to you, if I need anything?” She spoke her words in a different tone, a finger idly toying with a strand of her hair. Rose lifted an eyebrow at her and glanced sideways at Glen.
"My room is downstairs,” Rose said. “I'll show you later. Glen's a very busy man, so if you need anything, you can come directly to me and I'll relay anything I can't help you
with straight to him.” Suddenly, Rose had a strong urge to boot Nola out of the house. But it wasn't her place to do so, and besides ... she hadn't done anything except make her feel uneasy.
"Okay.” Nola beamed her bright smile at Rose again, but her eyes were back on Glen in a matter of seconds. “I wouldn't want to bother a man when he's really busy."
Rose cleared her throat loudly. “Should we get started then? We'll show you to your room."
"Sure. I am a bit tired. The bus ride was long."
"Well, you can rest shortly. There's not a lot going on today. We have classes on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays,” Glen recited as they began walking down the hall. He motioned for Nola to follow. She snatched up her duffel bag and followed. “But today's one of our non-busy days."
"What sort of classes do you have here?” Nola asked, looking around at the wall decorations as they moved down the wide corridor.
Glen answered. “We have classes on paranormal basics, like learning different types of psychic phenomena, creatures, abilities, and the like. We have specialized classes for growing psychics as well as for werewolves and vampires. We also have lectures every week."
"Sounds cool. Can't wait to get started."
The trio stopped and Rose turned to her. She waved a hand toward a door. “That is my room. If you need anything, at anytime, feel free to drop by."
"All right.” Nola nodded, glancing toward the door and making a mental note of the room's location. “So, there are other werewolves here?"
"Yes, some. Davis—he's a half-blood—he was the one who buzzed you in,” Glen said.
"Yes, I met him, briefly."
"There are others here. Rose and myself included,” he finished. “But we also cater to psychics, vampires, and whoever else might need some supernatural assistance."
"And your baby,” Nola said, pointing at Rose's swollen belly. “Your baby's a werewolf right?"
Rose looked down, her face becoming blank. Her eyes glazed over. Slowly, absently she ran a hand along her stomach. She came around a moment later, blinking as she turned to look at Nola again.
"Yeah."
"You two must be so proud. Congratulations,” Nola said, her smile plastered to her face.
"Oh no, no, no.” Glen's eyebrows flew up. “The kid's not mine."
"Oh God, no,” Rose exclaimed. “He's my cousin. He's not the baby's father."
"Oh! Oh, God. I am so sorry. I just assumed—” Nola shook her head, feeling heat rise quickly to her face. “I didn't mean to—I am so sorry!"
"You're lucky we're such good humored people,” Glen laughed.
"I guess so. But I should've known that."
"What do you mean?” Rose stepped up in front of Glen and stared at Nola.
Nola felt the color drain away from her face. “I just mean I should've known because of what I've read about the PRDI.” Her eyes flew to Glen as if expecting him to step in and verify what she was saying. He didn't move save for the cross his arms over his chest as he waited for her to continue. “You're in all the newspapers."
"I thought you were newly changed, a changed-blood,” he said. His tone was slightly suspicious.
"I am, but I've always been interested in the paranormal. I've followed the PRDI for—God—as long as I can remember. I'm fascinated by it. I really am sorry about that. I didn't mean to assume."
Rose blinked a few times then nodded. “It's all right.” She turned back to Glen. “Can we finish up the tour? I'm suddenly not feeling well."
"Sure. We'll show you to your room, Nola, but we'll have to postpone the rest of the tour for later."
"Hey, no problem. I think I'm too tired for a full tour anyway. Think I might just crash instead.” They walked a few steps more and reached her room, just three doors down from Rose's.
"This is it.” Glen removed the key to it from his pocket and handed it over. “It's completely private, fully furnished. You get to keep this key. I have the only other copy. If anything happens, and you decide to leave, I'll be asking for it back."
"Got it.” She slipped the key into the lock and turned it. The door eased open and she stepped inside.
"The light switch is to your right,” Rose prompted.
"That's all right.” She popped her head inside. “I can see fine."
"Great,” Glen answered. “We'll let you get some rest. If you need anything—"
"I'll go to Rose's room. Yeah, I got it.” She turned her head back and smiled at them both. “Thank you guys so much for allowing me here. I really hope to get to know you better and learn more about what I am."
"Don't mention it,” Rose answered.
Nola, still smiling, stepped into her room and left them in the hall.
* * * *
* * * *
She waited until she heard their footfalls fade into silence before she moved away from the door and let out a breath of relief. Her hand still rested on the doorknob, when she withdrew it she found it wet with sweat. She wiped it on her jeans and dropped her duffel bag. It thudded softly as it hit the plush carpet. Her hand fumbled for the light switch and she flicked it on.
The room flooded with bright light from overhead and from a bedside lamp. The sudden brightness burned her eyes and Nola squinted until her eyes adjusted. The room was nice, better than some of the hellhole hotels she had stayed in. There was a desk and a dresser and she spied a closet on the left side of the wall. There was a closed door on the right, probably the bathroom.
I could get used to this, she decided as she pulled her duffel bag across the carpeting and hauled it with one arm onto the bed. I could get used to this, but I really don't want to.
The first thing she did before unpacking was search the room. Her eyes were trained to scope out cameras and other security measures and she worked quickly. After a thorough look, she found there were no cameras here.
Perfect. She liked her privacy.
Quickly, she unzipped the bag and began to rummage around in it. She threw out handfuls of shirts and pants, toiletries, and other items she had packed until she found what she was looking for. She withdrew the bundle and laid it out beside the tangle of clothes. Carefully, she unfolded the cloth and withdrew a pair of identical pistols and their holsters.
A smirk spread over her lips as she stared at them. She ran a hand over the nickel plating on the side of the gun and closed her fingers around the grip. She lifted it, feeling its weight in her hand. It would be wonderful if she got a chance to use it, but she had brought them only as a precaution. It would be senseless to use them unless she had to.
Her smile turned into a tight lipped frown as she put the gun back down and picked up another, smaller bundle wrapped up within the first.
She unrolled the cloth and took aside the extra clips and ammunition. She placed them beside the guns and studied the effect. She would have to find a decent hiding place for them. It was a decidedly good thing there were only two sets of keys to her room. She despised the idea of someone sneaking in and snooping through her stuff. She really didn't need that.
Her gaze flickered back to the duffel bag. She had other things in there she needed to put away, but right now, there was something else she needed to do. Nola stripped off her leather jacket and tossed it on the bed so it covered the guns. She withdrew her cell phone from the pocket and quickly dialed a number.
"Miguel, it's me,” she said when he picked up. “I'm in."
"Good, chica.” Miguel's Spanish accent was like silk running over her skin. “Any problems?"
"There are always problems,” she said irritably. She grabbed something from her duffel bag and crossed the floor. The room did have its own bathroom, and she pushed open the door and flipped on the light. The fluorescent bulb burned brightly and she stopped for a moment to take it in.
The bathroom was large, not huge, but larger than any she was used to. There was a bathtub, with shower nozzle, that looked as if it could fit three people. A sink with an immense and immaculate counte
r space and the mirror above it covered an entire wall. She blinked a few times before getting a grip on herself.
"What are the problems?"
She shouldered the phone so she had both hands free. She slammed the contact case on the counter and leaned forward so she could get to her eyes. “He's not here,” she spoke even as she took her contacts out. “I don't know where he is, but he's not here."
"But the girl is there, yes?"
"Yes, she's here,” she answered bitterly as she put the contacts away. She blinked her eyes a few times to clear her vision. “But he's not. He's the reason I came here."
"Plan B?"
"I guess it'll have to be. I wasn't counting on it. Hell, I wasn't counting on a lot of things."
"You're doing fine,” he chuckled. “Didn't I tell you?"
"Shut up, Miguel. I have to think. I have to change everything because of this."
"Not everything. Just adapt."
"Yeah, adapt.” She laughed, staring at her reflection. The natural green of her eyes took in the light, gleaming brighter than ever. “I've done a hell of a lot of adapting."
"I know, but this is what you wanted."
"Fuck yes. I want this more than anything. Fuck, Miguel. I have to cut this short. Nola needs to be resting and I need to be figuring out my next step."
"Sure thing. Let me ask you one thing?"
"Shoot."
"Do they suspect anything?"
"They aren't exactly a trusting lot, so yeah, they're naturally suspicious. It'll take a while before I can get close enough, but no, they don't know it's me."
"Wonderful.” She could hear the smile in his voice but she was feeling a little less than amused.
"Guess my high school drama lessons paid off,” she said, her voice going flat. “I have to go, Miguel. I'll call you later."
"Yes. Stick to the plan, Nola.” The name just rolled off his tongue and made her shiver. “And you'll have your revenge soon enough.” He hung up and her phone went silent.
She leaned forward on the sink, clutching the cell phone in her hand. She stared at the display until it went black.
"I'll have my revenge,” she said aloud in a low, haunting voice. She lifted her eyes, staring at her reflection. She watched as her green eyes changed before her, becoming yellow, wolfen. A grin made its way across her mouth, showing off elongated teeth in a dangerous grimace.
Dark Moon Magick [The Moon Series: Book 4] Page 3