Book 1: Tala

Book One: Tala (Wolf)

   19 years after being viciously attacked, Layla is leading a fairly normal life.  She is in college and is about to graduate and start her new life.  That is until she meets her new mentee who is more than he seems, an old guy who may know what happened to her mother 19 years ago and the werewolf who tried to kill her.  With the Blue Moon only a few months away, will she be able to channel her powers and fight or will she succumb to the darkness within her?

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            It wasn’t as if Layla hadn’t been here before.  But still she took a deep breath before moving further into the room.  She inhaled the musty scent given off by the dusty tomes stirred up by procrastinating students trying to finish last minute papers.  Her skin felt clammy as she walked and she wiped her sweaty palms onto her jeans.  Her research paper was due soon and she had yet to find a topic.  She couldn’t afford to not pass this class, all her money was tied up in school and she needed the credits to graduate this year.  She moved to the farthest corner of the room, seeking privacy.  Two students looked up as she passed then dropped their heads wearily back to the books they were reading.
She felt the skin on her neck crawl as she set her backpack down on the old wooden library table.  Someone was watching her.  Layla took a deep breath before she twisted around and looked behind her.  She had chosen this back corner of the library to study because it was secluded and quiet, but now she regretted her choice.  It felt eerie.  Like something was not quite right.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the curtain across the room flutter close.  Someone was definitely watching her. 
Layla pulled her chair out and sat at an angle, her back to the wall and her legs facing the large room.  She was now able to see whoever emerged from behind the heavy drapes that covered the floor to ceiling windows of the Gulfport College Library.  She hoped it was a friend playing a prank and not some pervert, but this had a sinister feel about it.  She pulled a few things from her backpack slowly, her movements calculated, all the while keeping an eye on the curtain and the mysterious watcher.  She took another deep breath to steady her nerves.  Maybe she was overreacting, she thought, maybe it was just a breeze or a mouse.  Old places always felt creepy, but since she was kid and had watched her mother die, she always trusted her gut instinct.  Still, she could feel the person behind her, watching, waiting.  She grabbed her stapler.  Better to be safe than sorry, her aunt Susan always said.
*
Brett stood back in the shadows and watched the tall, willowy brunette as she looked around.  She seemed nervous, he thought as he noted her anxious movements.  She grasped the books in her hands and slowly pulled them from her backpack, still looking around.  Brett smiled.  She was pretty hot but he doubted her powers were developed enough to allow her to sense the intruder lurking in the corner.  He knew what she was.  And he knew why they were watching her.  It was the middle of the fall semester and in a few months, at the New Year’s full moon; she would be at full power.  He needed to get to her before they did.  Good thing he had an ace up his sleeve; she was his class mentor.
Layla heard a sound next her and whirled around, easily rising out of her chair, stapler in attack mode.  She stopped short when her eyes met those of the lanky young man standing in front of her. 
            “Whoa!” he laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.  “If I’d known you were that deep into your books, I wouldn’t have bugged you.” 
He held out his hand.  “I’m Brett.  Brett Guzman.  I’m supposed to be your new mentee.  Gateways Transitioning class?  For new students?”
Layla frowned, ignoring the hand.  He shrugged and put his hands in his pant pockets.  “Were you watching me just now?” She asked.  “Like standing behind a curtain watching me?”
He looked at her, his head tilted to the side as he studied her.  “You think I was watching you?  What am I, a stalker?”  He laughed again.  “Lady, you have some serious problems.  Like I don’t have anything else to do on a Thursday night.” 
He ran his fingers through his hair, and Layla’s eyes followed the brown of his hand to the black of his hair.  His hair was really black.  Not dark brown or so dark it looked black.  It was black, but it didn’t look as if it were from a bottle.  It fell to the top of his ears, silky strands of ebony.  She watched the lights reflect of the shiny surface as he shook his head incredulously.  She took in his laid back attire; jeans and a T-shirt, which seemed to match his easygoing attitude.  She let her eyes linger on his well-formed chest enhanced by the slightly too small shirt then moved to his face.  He was cute, she thought, much better looking than her last mentee, but still young.  She studied his face.  Well, younger than she was.  His green eyes laughed back at her as he caught her staring.
Shit.  She looked away quickly, humiliation burning her face.  She did remember a vague conversation with her professor about a new student.  He had to switch mentors and needed to get caught up with the program details.  She’d said she would help him and had told her professor where she normally studied.  Everyone knew she worked at the school.  All this guy had to do was look her up in the campus directory and he would see a lovely photo of her.  Damn.  Now she felt like an idiot, for both staring and freaking out.
She cleared her throat.  “Sorry about that,” she mumbled, reaching out and grabbing his hand in an awkward shake.  “Layla Donovan.”
Brett held back laughter as he saw the emotions flicker across her face.  She had sensed the wolfman lurking in the corner.  That was pretty advanced stuff for a fledgling who had never even transformed.  Brett was impressed but also concerned.  If she was that good without any training, what would she be like if they managed to get their hands on her?  He thought about the destruction a powerful Were could do, but if she were trained, it could be much worse.  He managed to wipe the worried look from his face before she noticed.
He looked down at their joined hands, surprised at the jolt of electricity that went through him as their hands met.  He cleared his throat before carefully pulling his hand away. “Yup.  Brett.” 
He flopped into one of the chairs, folding his long body into the low comfy seat.  “So, Layla, who-thought-I-was-stalking-her, how are we to get through this Gateways Transitioning class with all of this tension between us?”
Layla laughed, easily recognizing his attempt to put her at ease and downplay a really embarrassing situation.  “Well,” she said as she sat across from him, “the best way is simply to start.” She reached over and placed a huge book in front of him.  “We’re reading pages 476 to 603.  Then we have to create a PowerPoint presentation on the information.”  She watched his eyes widen in alarm.
“Are you serious?!”
She smiled and reached for a much slimmer book.  “No. We’re reading this.”  She winked at his surprised look.  “Gotcha.”
The rest of the evening went by in a blur as Layla discovered more about the man that she was to spend time with.  He was 26 and a full-time student.  He had recently moved to Gulfport from North Carolina and was still getting used to the really warm summers.  He had to switch classes because he had to switch shifts at his job as a bartender. Layla listened as he talked; the deep baritone of his voice somehow comforting.  She didn’t pretend she wasn’t attracted to him; she most certainly was.  But she was also good at hiding her emotions and not mixing business with pleasure.  And besides, he was younger than she was.  She stared at his eyes again.  They really were quite beautiful and made her relaxed somehow.  But no matter how comforting Brett was, she still had the uneasy feeling of being watched and kept glancing at the curtains.  They hadn’t moved, but she was not convinced.  It all felt so odd.  She shook off her doubts and willed herself to concentrate on the task at hand.  She explained the program to Brett and handed him his first assignment, before settling back into her chair and pulling out her highlighter to work on her own readings.
*
The old man with the tattered coat kept still.  It was clear that she was the one.  She had been able to detect him when no one else had, which in itself was a remarkable talent.  He wondered what she would be like if her talent would have been able to blossom.  He sighed softly.  No matter.  She was too powerful.  He couldn’t allow her to fall into Suzette’s hands.  He should have killed her all those years ago, but he could not bring himself to harm an innocent so young.  He had hoped she would be one of the lucky ones.  Sometimes those with the Were gene never developed their powers because it was too weak, the blood was too diluted.  But she had been strong even then.  Her line was a powerful one.  In his world, powerful meant dangerous.
He steadied himself, his pulse a slow beat as he used his powerful sense of smell to scan the area around him.  They were all human.  With two exceptions; the woman was definitely a fledgling and there was another scent, not a fledgling.  Something he couldn’t place; couldn’t remember.  He was thoughtful.  This was a new development.  He would have to follow the young male she was with.  He could be a minion of Suzette.  And that was not a good thing.  He needed to bide his time until he could figure out who else he was dealing with.  He eased himself slowly along the wall until he came to a nook behind the curtains between two columns.  With a slight bend of his legs, he jumped straight up onto the second floor.  He landed silently on the balls of his feet and clutching his coat tight around him, ran down the stairs and out the door.
*