Tonya R. Moore's Blog: Tonya R. Moore, page 40
January 1, 2016
The Lore of Hegira
Hegira is a leviathan ship, home to thousands of sapient alien races. The ship of legend, left behind by a nearly extinct race of beings called Starchasers, is a powerhouse barreling across galaxies. There are many who seek to take control of this rare jewel, but to rule this ship, one must control her pilot.
Sesili, Hegira’s current pilot, is dying. There are two candidates to take her place, Sumida, the pale one, and Laila, the dark one.
These are their stories.
Slumfairy (Available Now)
Bex Atria is many things. Violent. Human. Mercenary. She is one of two billion sapient beings living aboard Hegira, a wandering world of horror and boundless beauty.
Bex has lived in the slums of Hegira all her life. She’s done it all. She’s seen it all. Nothing can surprise her.
Sumida is everything Bex isn’t. She is soft-spoken. Inhuman. Sheltered. She’s about to turn Bex’s world upside down.
“Winny always said, she kept forgetting, that she saw things that Bex couldn’t, that some things needed to be explained with words. Bex was only human, and always judged wrongly. Too quickly. Now that her eyes were opened, everything Bex figured that she knew about the runaway Starchaser was being turned upside down.
“It’s interesting.” Sumida sank back down onto the seat of her craft. “Not an entirely bad way to die.”
In the falling light, she was comically mucky, scared and yet she smiled. Stars….when she smiled, everything tilted. The girl was a menace, an irresistible and unbalanced wreck, Bex thought. Were the old Starchasers insane too? Was it this strangely endearing quality that had drawn so many other races to them and allowed them to make a menagerie of their massive ship?”
Starchaser (Coming Soon)
Laila sets out across the galaxies alone, in search of the ultimate trump card to help her to wrest control of the leviathan ship, Hegira from those who would seek to steal her ancient birthright.
Laila’s pride and passion war with love, fear and her inferiority complex caused by her luminous rival and soul twin, Sumida.
“The rickety suspension bridge swayed under Laila’s feet as she ran. Way down below, frothy rapids threaded through the lush valley between the two mountains. The shrill cries of one alarm after another nipped at her heels. She kept running full tilt across the divide. She ran until she saw nothing but red.
She didn’t even realize that the alarms had stopped. She plunged into the mist, blood roaring in her head. She reached the other side, setting foot into the savage Wild.
At first, there was only a deathly silence. Then like some dark greeting, out of the thick of the brush rose a creature, the likes of which she’d never seen. The beast was six-legged, covered in bristly black fur with a triad of eyes the color of molten sulphur. The predator’s stare burned with intelligence and hostility across the distance between them. Laila’s trembling hand went for her weapon before she even knew it.
The beast snarled, double edged tongue and fangs glistening in the poor light. The muscles of its back bunched. The creature launched itself at her.”
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New Year Run Down
Happy New Year! May 2016 be a productive and joyful year for you and your loved ones. I hope that awesome things will happen for you. I hope that you will be good to yourselves and to each other; and I hope that while you work hard, you will remember to stop and take time for some well-deserved rest and shenanigans.
Here’s to a year of great reading and epic writing!
What to Expect from me in the Near Future
I have a short story that will be published in an upcoming issue of Tachyon Node Magazine. You may recall my post from a while back, featuring Issue One of Tachyon Node Magazine.
Starchaser, a follow-up short story to Slumfairy, my space opera novelette will be published this month. It will be made available via Smashwords, Amazon and all of the other usual places.
The next installment of Firecracker, my ongoing godpunk/urban fantasy web serial will be posted on 1/26/2016.
Works in Progress
I have eight short stories that are still in the planning phase, and one novella in the early stages of the first draft phase.
Works in Limbo
I have two completed short stories, currently on magazine/anthology slush piles.
As you can see, I’ve got my work cut out for me. This is a very good thing because I’m starting out the year with some sense of direction, as far as my writing goes.
How about you?
How do your writing goals and progress fit into the picture so far?
The post New Year Run Down appeared first on TONYA R MOORE.
December 29, 2015
Setting Smart Writing Goals for 2016
No resolutions.
I have made zero resolutions for the New Year. The reason for this is exactly what you imagine. I usually make them, only to break them shortly after each new year rolls around. This time, I’d like to take a different approach. I aim to apply a goal-setting method that has worked for me for some time now. I’m talking about setting SMART goals.
Now, forgive me if this reads like some corporate motivational poster or self-help mumbo jumbo. SMART goals are Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic and Time bound, and this popular model can be easily applied to the writing process.
For my writing goals to be specific, I need to have a clear idea of what it is that I want to achieve. Some vague notion simply won’t do. So, instead of simply saying that I want to write some stories in the coming year, I have made a list of the specific stories that I want to complete or continue, and new story ideas that I want to work on in the coming year.
Since I know that I will be writing short stories and a web serial, I have to give consideration to the length of each story, chapter. Managing story length or word counts is a way to make sure that my writing goals are measurable. I figure each short story will cap at about 3000 to 6000 words, and each web serial chapter runs 900-1500 words. Theoretically, I could write one story a month, as well as a weekly update of my web serial. At first glance, that seems achievable. It is, after all, humanly possible.
The problem though is at 12 short stories and web serial 52 chapters are complete unrealistic. Factor in working full-time (that’s 12 hour shifts) plus school, not even some fancy-schmancy footwork is going to make 12 stories and 52 chapters happen in 12 months. If I manage my time wisely though, I reckon, I can manage between 6 and 8 short stories and 12 web serial chapters in 12 months.
This is where the time bound aspect of goal-setting comes into play. For instance, it would be senseless to wait until October to start writing my first story. I’ll need to make sure that I have deadlines for completing stories and monthly chapters of my web serial, and give myself enough time to complete each project within that twelve-month period.
This is merely one rough example of how SMART goals can be applied to the writing process. It’s important to be flexible and open to opportunities for positive changes. Circumstances might change, and I might have to further curb my writing goals. The opportunity to write more than I’m initially planning, could also present itself.
I plan to follow-up every six months by taking stock of where I am, as far as my goals go. Then, I plan to adjust either my pace or goals.
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December 28, 2015
Chapter Eleven
Dominic didn’t seem wholly convinced but he gruffly acquiesced.
“How exactly can you help?” He asked.
Cassandra ‘ported from one end of the room to the next and back. “All I need is a firm idea of where I’m going. Even satellite imagery will do.”
“And you’re sure you can teleport from one country to the next?” David asked. When she nodded he, at least, seemed suitably impressed.
Dominic still seemed doubtful but the wolf said, “We don’t have time to speculate. We have to get to Judah now.” He looked to Cassandra. “It’ll take time the decipher the coordinates. Care to stick around for a bit?”
She nodded. Death, though. Fresh death hangs in the air and prickles at the senses, she thought. The smell of blood was over powering, made her eyes itch and her nose all twitchy. How could they stand it?
“I’ll wait on the balcony,” She declared and retreated, wondering what Dominic intended to do about the dead woman on his sofa.
David went up the stairs, presumably after the gloomy goth. Cassandra didn’t ask.
Cassandra stepped outside. She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to offer up her services like that. Something about Dominic’s demeanor compelled her to reach out and help him somehow. Hands buried in her pockets, she quietly observed him from her perch on the balcony.
There the Rath’s leader still sat, the woman’s lifeless hand in his own. He was slightly hunched over, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Although she didn’t know him very well, it was unnerving to witness that display of vulnerability. Something told her, that it wasn’t like him at all.
She tried to get a read on him again but she couldn’t.
“Still guarded, huh?” She murmured.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that there was trouble brewing in the ranks of the Rath. The question was, why were humans the ones getting killed?
Cassandra remembered her father’s warning about getting tangled up with the Rath and cursed under-breath. She really should have badgered him for more information. There was still Anna’s matter to consider too. Cassandra still had a feeling that making herself useful to the Rath would pay off in that regard. It was a long shot, to say the least.
David came back downstairs. He’d traded his tux for a tee shirt and jeans
One of the wolves from earlier entered the room and brought a tablet to David, who motioned for Cassandra to come back inside.
“We have something.” He said, holding out the tablet as she approached.
On screen was a map, with a location pinpointed on an island in the Caribbean. Cassandra zoomed in and frowned. “Cockpit Country?” She switched to satellite view and zoomed in as closely as the app would allow. “Well,” she handed the tablet back. “Let’s do this, shall we?”
“So, how exactly does this work?” David asked.
Cassandra shrugged. “I just have to want it.”
“That’s it?” He asked. “Shouldn’t it be more… you know, complicated?”
“Oh,” Cassandra wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about. “You mean the science, right?”
“Well, yeah.” David nodded.
“But I’m not a scientist,” Cassandra pointed out.
Frankly, she didn’t give a rat’s ass about the science, but she didn’t feel like telling him that. She could have made up something believable, without even batting an eye too, but she didn’t feel like doing that either.
“Still, if I’m going to be teleporting with you across the ocean—”
“You, not Dominic?” Cassandra demanded, casting her gaze from one man to the next.
Dominic shook his head.
“Nope,” David grinned. “So humor me?”
Cassandra sighed. “It’s not like I’m trying to keep you in the dark. Listen, when you want to walk from one end of the room to the next, do you think about the mechanics involved? You just want it, so you do it, right? It’s just like that.”
“Fair enough,” David relented, seeming to finally understand that was as good as he was going to get out of her. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Hold on to my hand,” Cassandra instructed. “Well,” she breathed. “Here we go.”
In the next instant, they were standing in a grassy area, underneath the star-speckled night sky.
Cassandra stood there beside David, breathing just a little harder than normal. She swallowed hard before grinning shakily. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Right,” he said gamely, a bit green at the gills but no worse for wear. She took that as a good sign.
The seething song of crickets started up then intensified, and in the distance, the rhythmic sound of drums filled the swollen air. There was light coming from the direction of the music, punctuated by the sounds of laughter and singing.
Cassandra and David followed the trail in the bush, until they came upon a series of wooden buildings. Under a moth crowded streetlight, outside a small bar, a group of Rastafarian men and women sat at tables laughing and talking as they played dominoes. One man was banging out a one drop rhythm on a Djembe drum. A few men and women danced and sang along to the rhythm.
The two interlopers stepped into the light.
The laughter stopped. The singing stopped. The drumming and the dancing stopped. The locals turned to gawk at the two foreigners, who had just strolled into the middle of their village in the dead of the night.
One of the older men, a jaundiced, natty headed fellow turned to yell back into the bar. “Go call Judah! She got visitors.”
Someone yelled something unintelligible back. There was a scattering of laughter. The drumming started up again.
The man who’d called for Judah eyed David and Cassandra archly. “She’ll be ‘ere in a minute,” he said before turning his attention back to his game.
NEXT CHAPTER
The post Chapter Eleven appeared first on TONYA R MOORE.
December 24, 2015
Merry Christmas and Thank You!
Merry Christmas to you, and to your loved ones!
I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all for the attention and support over the past year.
Thanks to those of you who purchased my stories. I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them. Thanks to those of you who read my webserial, Firecracker, on Jukepop Serials and Wattpad, and gave me your feedback. Your responses were also very much appreciated.
2016 promises to be an exciting and interesting year. I have some new stories that are going to be published in magazines, independently, and possibly in an anthology. Please look forward to those announcements.
One of my goals for 2016 is to blog more regularly and hopefully, secure some guest spots on other blogs. I will also be hosting more guest posts and author interviews. So, that’s another great thing to look forward to. I’ll also be showcasing more webserials that I enjoy reading.
For those of you who visit the site regularly, you may have noticed that I’ve changed the design again. Hopefully, I’ll stick to this particular template, since I rather like it. Either way, I hope this new design is easy on the eyes and makes it easy for visitors to find what they are looking for on the site.
Once again, Merry Christmas! I wish you and yours a joyful and blessed day.
Featured Image courtesy of Peter Weber
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December 22, 2015
Webserial Update
One of my goals for 2016 is to resume regular updates to my ongoing webserial, Firecracker.
With that in mind, I’ve decided to host the story here, on my website, in addition to Jukepop Serials and Wattpad. I guess you can think of it as simulcasting, but for fiction.
The story index can be accessed via the WEBSERIAL link in the main menu, and via the Chapter Listing link at the end of each chapter.
There are currently ten chapters available for online reading. Chapter Eleven will go live in the next week or two.
Intro:
Heavy winds shouldered their way across the icy Arctic. Lazy glaciers crept seaward, propelled by the same internal mechanism that told the ice when to break, the water to go where the wind pushed and the girl plummeting from the sky to scream.
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December 21, 2015
Chapter Ten
Shelby’s hands were cold.
“Do pure bloods feel the same to the touch as “made” vampires?” Cassandra asked, brimming with curiosity. “Is it true that they’re colder? The ones who used to be human.”
She eyed him squarely, trying to get a lock on his thoughts as they danced but he was proving to be rather hard-headed.
Just over a head taller than Cassandra, he scowled down at her. “What are you trying to do?”
“Nothing,” she grinned, lying without even batting an eye.
“That’s rude, you know,” Shelby returned the grin reluctantly and briefly opened his mind to her.
He thought she was shifty but interesting. That her skin was uncommonly warm to the touch, like there was a fire brewing ion her blood. He wanted to ask about that. Why she was a fully grown woman, when she’d been a child only twelve months before.
He wanted to know what she was. He recognized that she was human, but only barely. That she carried the scent of the sea and something else that left him mildly awestruck and afraid all at once.
It struck him that his reaction to her was the same that others had to him and Joss. Was that why she’d sought them out? Because she sensed that they’d also been isolated set apart from even their own kind because of what they were?
Cassandra laughed lightly, as the direction his thoughts were taking shifted. His long tooth worried at his lower lip as he frowned down at her, considering.
“Don’t bother,” she giggled. “You couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t what?”
She sobered when he feigned innocence. “I mean it, Shelby. Don’t try to take my blood. I don’t know what would happen to you if you did.”
As he stared down at her, thunderstruck, she became genial again. “I’d much prefer it if you two would become my minions.”
“Minions?” Joss cut in suddenly, pulling Shelby away. “No way in hell!”
Shelby laughed uneasily. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Of course I’m kidding.” Cassandra laughed. “What? It’s not like we’re comic book characters, right?”
She laughed, murmuring under a breath. “Minions.”
She was still laughing as she walked away.
Joss scowled after her. “I don’t think she was kidding,” he hissed. “I don’t think she was kidding at all!”
Just then, the main door opened up. David came inside first, followed by Dominic who carried a bloodied woman in his arms.
“Sorry folks. Party’s over.” David announced.
As the strange procession of guests departed and the shutters went back up, Dominic brought the woman over to the nearest couch and gently set her down.
Cassandra approached David and tapped his shoulder. “Is she…?”
“We were too late.” He answered with a grim nod.
“Come inside, Mikki.” Dominic called out.
The girl who came inside and closed the door behind her was not Cassandra wouldn’t have expected. She was small and cute, had the whole rebellious teen thing going for her.
“Misha did this.” Dominic stated. He wasn’t asking. He was already certain.
The girl nodded. “Misha and Tai were leaving when I saw them.”
“Go and get cleaned up,” Dominic ordered. “There’s blood on your clothes.”
Mikki hesitated. “What about Judah? Praskovya might have told them—“
“Let me worry about Judah,” Dominic ran a bloodied hand through his hair. “Go to your room for now.”
Cassandra tugged at David’s sleeve. “She is?”
“Dominic’s daughter,” he leaned over and whispered.
He didn’t see. He couldn’t have imagined the silent challenge that passed between the two young women as their eyes locked briefly. Bemused and enraged, Mikki turned to leave abruptly. Cassandra stared after her in consternation. She hadn’t been able to get a read on the glum little Goth at all. Why was that?
“First Susumu, now Praskovya.” David mused. “Misha keeps getting closer and we don’t even know where Judah is. How do we get to her before they do?”
Dominic took the vial Cassandra had given to him out of his pocket. He handed it over to David. “Get our techs working on this. Once they extract the data, there should be coordinates.”
“Susumu’s idea?” David took the vial.
Dominic nodded.
David brought the vial over to one of the guards and gave it to him along with some hasty instructions. With a nod, the man left quickly.
“Even with coordinates, how do we get there in time?” David asked. “After all, Misha’s probably got a good head start.”
The Rath’s leader shrugged off his jacket and sank down into a nearby chair. “We can only hope for the best at this point.”
Cassandra spoke up. “I think I can help with that.”
Dominic looked up sharply. “Why are you still here?”
“I can help.” She said again, firmly.
“You don’t even know the half of what’s going on here.” David protested.
Cassandra ignored him. She looked to Dominic, waiting to hear what he had to say.
“In exchange for what?” He finally asked.
Cassandra blinked. “What do you mean?”
“You’re here because you want something from me.” He stated evenly. “What is it that you want?”
“My sister is sick. I need help finding someone who can cure her.” She answered honestly.
“Maybe I can help you with that,” Dominic said. “Maybe I can’t.”
“It’s not a bargaining point, for crying out loud.” She sighed. “I offered to help because I can. That’s all.”
NEXT CHAPTER
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Chapter Nine
A slight figure swooped down from the treetops. She landed lightly on her feet before Misha and Tai.
She was a strange looking thing. She had the look of the wolves but she was fine boned, deceptively delicate with large eyes and a small mouth. Her wild mop of hair was all red and blue dyed streaks. She sported a pair of buckled knee-high boots, red leather shorts and a black vest. Despite her apparent frailty, she exuded an unexpected air of power, an air of unpredictable and violent strength.
Misha smiled down at her. “Hello Kitten, how have you been?”
“I told you not to call me that.” She muttered.
She raised troubled eyes to meet Misha’s. She seemed on the verge of saying something, but she didn’t.
Misha shook his head. His expression became stern. “Stay out of this, Mikki. It doesn’t concern you.”
She bit down on her lip, still troubled but she stepped aside to let him and Tai pass. She waited until they were out of earshot before retracing their path back to the dying woman. To be honest, all she had to do was follow the sticky-sweet scent of blood.
Mikki found Praskovya where Misha had left her. Like a predator circling prey, she circled the area where the woman sat unmoving, propped up against the tree. The young wolf could hear the woman’s heart beating. Not steady, it was erratic like the flickering or fireflies or maybe slow dancing.
Praskovya had been ruined. Bones had been broken, organs ripped. She bled copiously.
Mikki knelt down and reached out, fingers pausing inches away from touching Praskovya’s cheek. She started when Praskovya’s body twitched. Praskovya drew in a deep, stuttering breath. Her eyes opened. She slowly raised them to meet Mikki’s gaze.
“What did you tell them?” The young Rath asked quietly.
Praskovya coughed. Blood and spittle bubbled up in her mouth. “Judah. I…”
Her heart stopped, just like that. Mikki reached out to grasp her hand. There was still warmth there but it was too late. Praskovya was gone. Mikki knelt there holding the dead woman’s hand, not quite knowing what to do next.
***
Dominic took the vial that Cassandra proffered. “Why,” he asked, “are you seeking out people like us? I can’t imagine it’s just out of idle curiosity.”
She gave him a brief nod. “I have a good reason.”
Although there was something about Dominic Locke that immediately made her feel like she could trust him, she wasn’t quite ready to share that reason yet.
Dominic sniffed at the air. His expression turned grim but he said nothing. Before Cassandra could ask what the matter was, David returned with her book in hand. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the look on Dominic’s face.
“I smell blood.” Dominic said.
David immediately motioned for one of the other wolves.
“Lock down the house,” he ordered. “No one comes in. No one goes out.”
The guard hesitated.
“What is it?” David asked.
“Mikki left the house,” the guard said. “Said she needed some air.”
David tried calling her. “She’s not answering her cell,” he said after a moment.
Dominic cursed under-breath.
“David, come with me.” He turned to Cassandra. “Staying or going?”
So, at the very least he was aware that they couldn’t keep her here against her will.
“Staying,” she answered, brimming with curiosity.
The three men strode back inside. Interest piqued, Cassandra followed. Outside, metal shutters slid down barring the windows and outer doors.
Oddly enough, the strange gaggle of guests in the drawing room remained unperturbed. There was a moment when conversations paused and ears pricked up but since no explanation came from their host, they shrugged off the unusual situation as something par for the course. Cassandra got the distinct feeling that in this room, there were no strangers to whatever terrible thing might have come to pass.
She watched David and Dominic leave and briefly considered following but Dominic’s grim manner gave her pause. She wasn’t sure why. It sort of rankled. After all, she wasn’t exactly in the habit of being so considerate and all. In any case, she wasn’t exactly in short supply of distractions, what with a room full of who-knew-whats pretending they weren’t watching her every move.
Two guys ambled over toward her. Gutsy, she figured until she got a good look at their faces. Familiar faces, of all things.
A grin spread across her face. “I was right about you guys!”
Twelve months earlier, she’d come across a pair of what she suspected were vampires down in the Deep South. She’d tailed them for about a night or two, until they wised up and skedaddled when she wasn’t looking.
“Shelby, I told you it was her!” Hissed the shorter of the two. He was a skinny dude. He wore a tee shirt that was as tight as a second skin and skinny jeans to boot.
“Who?” Asked the taller of the pair, an Asian pretty-boy wearing an elegant button down shirt.
The short one pointed a finger at Cassandra. “It’s her! That freaky kid. You don’t remember?”
“Joss, don’t point.” Shelby tossed Cassandra an apologetic smile. “Please forgive my brother. He never learned any manners.”
“Yay high!” Joss motioned with his hand empathically, insisting that she was supposed to be a child that only reached him at waist level.
“He’s right, you know. It was me.” Cassandra gave Shelby what she hoped was a sincerely sweet smile. “The freaky kid has a name, by the way. It’s Cassandra. Cassandra Baron.”
She stepped closer and Joss drew back, dragging Shelby with him.
Cassandra stared at the brothers with barely contained mirth. They were such fun to watch. If that Joss were a tiny puppy, he’d be snarling at her right now.
She held out a hand. “Come on. One of you dance with me. I’m bored.”
Joss was still too freaked out by her to step up but he seemed to be fascinated enough with her to offer up his brother as a sacrifice.
He pushed Shelby toward her.
The post Chapter Nine appeared first on TONYA R MOORE.
Chapter Eight
Late to the gathering at Dominic’s house, a sleek black car made its way along the narrow and winding mountain road. The driver was a dark haired beauty with blood red lips and delicate bones. She grinned gleefully into the dark as her speedy little toy ate up the miles and miles of asphalt. It occurred to her that she was more than a little drunk but she didn’t care.
She hummed off key to Beethoven’s ninth. The car veered slightly into the opposite lane, headlights devoured by the dark. The woman’s vision blurred and brightened. The car turned another sharp corner.
She cried out in shock at the sight of a large animal with malevolent eyes standing in the middle of the road. Truly threatened by the purposeful wealth of intelligent ill will in those golden eyes, she yanked too hard on the steering wheel. The car lurched off the road, plowing through the safety tails and tumbled down the steep slope.
The windshield exploded. The woman screamed as shards of glass pierced her skin. Skinny pine and ash tree trunks thumped against metal and scraped against the wheels. She couldn’t see much but she could hear the terrible scream of twisting metal. The bitter scent of broken trees clouded her nostrils.
The car came to a rest. There was a sudden downward dip as if a roller coaster ride had gone mad. The car teasingly teetered at the edge.
Her eyes drifted shut as the world fell away.
Praskovya Baransky felt as if a train had run her over shattered her arms, legs and spine. In her half lucid state, she was somewhat amazed that she could feel anything at all. When full consciousness came, the pain was much worse. A small whimper escaped her lips. To her ears, it sounded like someone else.
There was blood everywhere. She could taste and smell it. The wet was all over her skin.
She was out of her car, seated on the ground. Tree bark dug into her bruised back. She managed to open her eyes only to see a stranger’s face mere inches away from hers. Golden, almost flaming irises bored into hers. In the pale glow of moonlight he seemed to be some handsome demon with skin the color of polished oak.
“How do you feel right now?” His strange question rankled.
“How do you think?” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Like I was in a car that went over the edge of a fucking cliff.”
The stranger smiled, showing his perfect, dangerous teeth.
“There’s blood all over you,” he commented lightly. He brushed the side of her face. His fingers came away stained with blood. He brought his finger to his mouth with a husky little laugh, watching for her reaction. He threw his head back for a moment, dazed.
“You taste very sweet.”
“Tai!” A slightly annoyed, smooth voice came out of the dark. “Please don’t toy with our guest.”
Praskovya gave the newcomer as quick sidelong glance. He stood taller than Tai. The dreamy haze of moonlight gave him something of a regal bearing. It wasn’t just that though. Even hidden under the long dark cloak, he seemed to be made of steel. His face was all sharp angles, framed by unruly silver streaked black hair. He was every woman’s dream, she supposed, until you saw those feral eyes of molten gold. His resemblance to Dominic Locke was striking.
Realization dawned. Fear gripped her, fear so raw that she could taste it.
“Oh god,” she whispered, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice. “You’re Misha!”
Misha knelt so that they were face to face, He snatched at her throat. His fingers tightened, making it even more difficult, but not impossible for her to breath. She gasped in agony, choking on her own blood. With his free hand, he wiped the blood away from her mouth. It was such an oddly careful gesture. It only made her more acutely aware of the peril she was in.
“Why,” She managed hoarsely. God, she hurt so much. “Why am I still alive?”
Misha smiled. “You know, it easy to tell how much you’ve seen and done in your short life, Miss Baransky. Nothing frightens you.”
Oh, if only that were true.
His glare turned fierce. “Where is the relic? You know the one I want. Where is it?”
“I don’t know!” She managed. “I swear, I don’t!”
His grip tightened. “Then who knows?”
She bit down on her lower lip. She wouldn’t tell him. She couldn’t tell him. No, not that. No matter what.
Misha’s grip loosened. His next question caught her off guard. “Does Judah know?”
Her breath hitched. Even though she still said nothing, Misha smiled, as if satisfied. “Where is Judah?”
Her vision wavered. Misha seemed to sway from side to side.
“Stay with me!” His urgent command got her attention but she just couldn’t seem to focus. “Answer the question.”
“Zion,” she whispered, praying the half-truth would lead Misha astray long enough for Dominic to get to Judah first. “A place called Zion.”
Through the haze of pain and the murky darkness blanketing her mind, she heard Tai and Misha speaking as of from far, far away.
“We’re leaving her like that?”
“Thought I’d leave a present for dear old Dad. It’s perfect, don’t you think?”
Tai laughed softly. “It is that.”
Praskovya’s head slumped forward. Damn, she thought. Who was going to take care of her flowers now?
The post Chapter Eight appeared first on TONYA R MOORE.
Chapter Seven
Several cars littered the driveway closest to the massive Victorian. Strains of some strange music drifted out from inside. Cassandra stopped short of the doorway, Spidey senses going haywire.
The man guarding the doorway was tall and burly. No. She was assaulted by a frenzied rush of imagery. Feral, golden eyes. A beastly countenance. She smiled, interest piqued. This was no man standing before her. He was more like a wolf. A wolf in human skin. Hidden under his jacket was a weapon. She couldn’t tell what kind.
He looked her up and down. “You’re not on the guest list.”
“David Kilpatrick is expecting me.” Cassandra said.
“Doesn’t matter,” came the gruff response. “You’re not on my list. Leave.”
Undaunted, she raised her eyes to meet his. She turned up the wattage on her smile as he dizzily swayed toward her.
“David is expecting me,” she softly insisted.
The guard opened the door for her. Cassandra went inside. By the time he closed the door behind her, the mesmerizing effect had worn off. He stood, staring down the driveway, bemused. He was forgetting something important but for the life of him, he couldn’t quite fathom what.
Cassandra entered a large drawing room and her awareness exploded.
There were more wolves milling about the crowded room. There were other things. Weird, beastly things all masquerading as human.
Her mouth curved into a smile.
“The motherlode,” she murmured. “I just hit the freaking motherlode!”
Like her. They were all like her. She belonged here, on this stage among these wicked, beautiful creatures.
She barely noticed the sudden, hushed tension. That one by one, heads were turning. They were all monsters and beasts alike, turning to look at her, this brand new thing that had appeared before them.
“What is it?” She heard someone whisper. “What is that thing?”
Coursing through her blood, was a strange sort of elation. Is that what it felt like to be worshipped? Is what it felt like to have others look upon her in awe and recognize that they were in the presence of a god? She swayed slightly, dizzied by the heady sensation.
She barely felt the fingers that curled around her arm or the weight of the body beside her, steadying her.
“Cassandra?” David Kilpatrick’s voice came from far away. “You okay?”
Vaguely, she marveled at how he even knew her name. Had she told him? She didn’t remember doing that.
The music stopped and it was that sudden silence, like the crack of a bullet that brought her back to the here and now.
“David,” she murmured as the music started up again. “You didn’t tell me you had company.”
He shrugged. “That sort of thing is the usual deal around here.”
He led her across the room to the doorway on the other side and to the man who stood on the small balcony beyond.
Dominic Locke cut quite the imposing figure. He stood head to head with David but there was something about his presence that made him seem larger than life. Ageless. He had the same golden eyes as the wolves, the same menacing aura. Even the crisp tuxedo didn’t quite manage to make him seem civilized.
Their eyes clashed and Cassandra didn’t hold back. She reached out with her mind with just enough force to shake him up a little. The remarkable thing was that nothing happened. Nothing at all. Dominic Locke didn’t waver. In fact, his mouth curved into a hint of a smile suggesting that he was well aware that he’d been challenged.
“Nice try though.”
Cassandra’s mouth twisted wryly. “Well, damn.”
Dominic laughed, a deep baritone that sent something like a tremor running down her spine.
Again, a show of sharp, perfect teeth. “I’m Dominicus Locke. My friends call me Dominic.”
“Cassandra Baron,” she shook the hand he extended. “You’re not at all what I expected.”
“You were expecting..?”
She shrugged, “I’m not sure.”
David, who was watching the exchange between them with something akin to amusement, spoke up. “Did you bring the vial?”
“Of course I did.” Cassandra answered. “Where’s my book?”
At a nod from Dominic, he disappeared into the crowded drawing room.
While they waited, Cassandra took the vial out of her pocket. “What’s so important about this thing, anyway?”
Dominic countered with a question. “What’s so important about your book?”
“Oh, the book?” Cassandra turned to look at all the guests milling about the drawing room. “That’s not so important anymore.”
Dominic’s countenance darkened. “What do you mean?” He demanded, suspicious now.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” she shot him an arch look. “I was just looking for proof that they exist. That people like you exist. I have my answer now, don’t I?”
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Tonya R. Moore
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