Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan
Read Moonlight Kin 4: Tristan Online
Authors: Jordan Summers
Tags: #new orleans, #paranormal romance, #wolves, #supernatural, #werewolves, #law enforcement, #contemporary fantasy, #fairytales, #legends myths, #legends and folklore
by
Copyright 2014 by Jordan Summers
Published 2014 by Jordan Summers
Cover Art by:
Wicked Smart
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Formatted by
IRONHORSE
Formatting
Smashwords Edition
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*****
BACK COVER COPY
Armed with a lodestone and a magical sword, Lycanian
enforcer Tristan Chevalier is on the trail of a Darkling, who’s
already killed a werewolf and a human female. He knows where it’s
going and who the Darkling is after, so he needs to reach her
first. When he finds Isabel MacDougal, Tristan believes he’s
discovered the perfect bait to draw his enemy out.
Isabel “Izzy” MacDougal has always known monsters
were real. She spent her childhood hiding her psychic abilities
until they nearly drove her mad. When she runs into Tristan, Izzy
believes the giant arctic werewolf is the one who’s been hunting
her and that her life is over. But for Tristan Chevalier and Izzy
MacDougal life isn’t over—the cat and mouse game is just
beginning.
* * * * *
In New Orleans you’d better like your sushi
deep-fried and your saxophone dipped in a coating of bluesy jazz,
or you wouldn’t survive long in the Big Easy.
Music rang out through the Jackson Square
courtyard as street musicians turned up the volume and charm to
compete for tourist dollars. Tonight the jazzy band at the end of
the square attempted to lure their crowd away from a lone trumpet
player and a violinist.
Along with the musicians, tarot and palm
readers had already set up their tables, staggering them just
enough to give the pretense of privacy.
Isabel “Izzy” MacDougal did a quick head
count. There were ten tables in total. Her table would make eleven,
but she only counted the ones in Jackson Square. Others would be
set up along the side streets near Bourbon Street, hoping to catch
the stray drunk ready to part with their hard-earned cash.
Izzy scanned the growing crowd as she
unfolded her small card table and spread her purple shawl on top of
it. She spotted her friend Everly Watts a few tables over and
waved.
Everly waved back then returned to reading
the woman seated across from her. Izzy had met the short,
dark-haired Goth when she first arrived in New Orleans a month
ago.
Despite resembling an anemic vampire, Everly
was down to earth and turned out to be a good friend. Most nights
she could be found at The Dungeon with all the other Goths and
vampire wannabes in town. The pancake makeup disguised her
sensitive nature and fierce intelligence, but nothing hid her
street smarts.
Izzy smiled as a few people slowed to browse
her table. They didn’t notice that enterprising locals were
shadowing them, waiting for them to drop their guard.
Not even dusk yet and the French Quarter
already bursting at the seams with sunburned tourists and crafty
pickpockets.
Izzy finished setting up and took a seat. She
kept her expression open. Hard to do when she was continuously
bombarded by impressions from the growing crowd, but she managed.
Unlike some of the others situated around the square, Izzy had a
true gift of Sight.
She snorted. Some gift.
She and Everly had glommed onto each other
when Izzy discovered that Everly suffered from the same “gift” that
she’d grown up with. It wasn’t easy being psychic, especially in a
world populated by skeptics and monsters.
Instead of growing up in a loving household
like Isabel, Everly had been kicked out of her home when her
gifts
arrived. According to the petite Goth, she’d been
living on her own ever since. She survived by taking on menial jobs
and never staying in one place for too long. Another thing that
they had in common.
Izzy shuffled her tarot cards and smiled at a
passing group of women. The women wore flowery nametags across
their chests, advertising a local conference.
“Would you like to know what your future
holds, ladies?” she asked.
One of the women giggled, but the ash blonde
stopped to chat. “Can you tell me if I’m going to meet someone
soon?” she asked.
“Sure,” Izzy said. “Take a seat.”
The woman’s hand clasped the back of the
folding chair as she pulled it out to sit down.
“Lisa, you’re not really going to waste your
money on that crap, are you?” her friend asked.
Uncertainty filled the blonde’s green eyes.
Before she caved to peer pressure, Izzy flipped the first card
over.
“He has dark hair,” she said.
The woman scooted forward on her seat.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Izzy said. “And he’s tall.”
“Is his name Mike?” Lisa asked, peering into
the cards in search of answers.
Izzy closed her eyes and concentrated. She
saw the dark-haired man in her vision drop down to one knee in
front of the blond woman.
“I see him proposing,” Izzy said. “It’s quite
a ring.”
Lisa squealed. “Oh my God! When?”
Izzy examined her vision. The leaves on the
trees around the couple were orange and red, but no limbs were
bare. “The fall.” She opened her eyes. “He’ll propose in the
fall.”
The woman whipped her head around to search
for her friends. “Did you hear that? Mike is going to propose to me
in the fall.”
The skeptic among them simply shook her head
in disgust. “Mike’s a jerk,” she muttered.
Izzy turned her attention away from the cards
and stared at the woman. Her black aura came into view. The color
startled her. On occasion when Izzy looked at people, shadow
obscured their entire face. She had no idea what the darkness
meant, but it always felt evil and frightened her.
This was different. The woman’s dark aura
didn’t obscure her features. Izzy peered deeper, past the outer
layer to see what caused the woman’s pain.
A red-haired man appeared in her mind, then
his image quickly faded into a tombstone with the name Thomas
carved into its rigid gray face.
“I’m sorry about Thomas,” Izzy said. “He
really loved you.”
The woman’s face went from red to white, as
the blood drained from her cheeks. “How did you know about him?”
she whispered.
Izzy shrugged. She couldn’t begin to explain
where her gift came from and certainly not to someone who wasn’t
ready to listen.
“Think she’s still a fraud?” Lisa asked as
she plucked several bills out of her wallet and laid them on the
table.
“Let’s go,” the skeptic said. “I need a
drink.”
The crowd swallowed them. More people
approached her. Izzy got ten more readings done before her head
threatened to explode.
The pain happened every night. She could only
read for so long before her gift exerted too much pressure and her
body gave out. At least she’d made enough to pay rent. All in all a
good night.
Izzy was packing her things, when the first
inkling of unease struck. She casually scanned the crowd, but no
one seemed overly interested in her. She finished gathering her
fortune-telling tools and shoved them into her backpack. She
quickly folded her table and chairs then took them over to
Everly.
“Can you keep these for me until tomorrow?”
Izzy asked.
Everly’s back stiffened, and she frowned.
“Sure,” she said, scanning the faces around them. “I feel it,
too.”
“It’s okay,” Izzy said. Whatever was out
there didn’t know about Everly—at least not yet. She’d lead it away
before it detected her friend. “I’m going to head out. Catch you
later.”
Everly nodded, but she didn’t relax. She
continued to covertly scan the crowd.
Izzy weaved her way through the throng,
cutting along Pere Antoine’s alley before hanging a left toward St.
Peter Street. She glanced up and down the sidewalk to be sure she
wasn’t being followed, then ducked into Yo Mama’s Bar and
Grill.
The bearded doorman greeted her with a
friendly smile. Izzy grinned back then bounded up the stairs to
where her friend Heather bartended.
A red light illuminated the small space. Two
couches, a couple of long tables, dancing statues, and a small bar
filled the room. Classic rock from an old jukebox blared out of
speakers mounted in the ceiling. The place reminded her of a
bordello, but it had
amazing
hamburgers.
Izzy’s stomach growled. She wished she had
time to order a burger, but she needed to use Heather’s phone then
get back to her apartment on Dumaine Street.
Heather had just popped the cap off a
longneck, when she spotted Izzy. She smiled, then without saying a
word, she grabbed her cell phone and tossed it to her. Izzy caught
it easily, mouthed the word “thanks,” and quickly called her
sister, Mindy.
She didn’t want to alarm her sister, but Izzy
needed to let Mindy know that someone was following her and she
might have to lay low for a while.
It would hurt to be out of touch with her
sister, but Izzy didn’t have much choice. The darkness she’d sensed
in Breakbend, Oregon was here and getting closer. She’d felt its
presence growing, and it terrified her.
Izzy finished up her call and handed the
phone back to Heather. “Thanks,” she said.
“Anytime,” Heather said. “Catch you
later?”
She shook her head. “Not tonight. I have a
headache.” Izzy rubbed her temples for emphasis.
“Catch you next time,” Heather said then
moved onto a waiting customer.
Izzy hurried down the stairs but stopped
before she stepped out onto the sidewalk. The doorman watched her,
but didn’t say anything since this wasn’t exactly new behavior from
her.
“It’s all clear,” he said.
“Thanks.” Izzy slipped out the door and
headed toward Bourbon. She’d just passed Royal Street, when the
sensation of being observed returned.
Izzy glanced over her shoulder but didn’t see
anyone. Didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Ordinary being a
relative term in the French Quarter. Nothing to alarm her, but Izzy
knew he was there.
She
felt
him.
She wound her way through the heavy crowd,
hoping to lose her pursuer on raucous Bourbon Street. With the sun
going down, the mood on the street changed. Izzy turned down
Dumaine Street.
The crowd thinned, and she caught sight of
Louis Armstrong Park in the distance. The trees swayed as the sun
dipped below the horizon and darkness took over. A shiver tracked
down her spine.