Burkheart Witch Saga Book 1: Red Snow Read online

  ansr me david nd 2 hear ur vce lve u.

  She tossed the cell back onto the seat next to her and continued her drive. She almost jumped out of her skin when, not five seconds later, the phone beeped a text alert. She scrambled to pick it up, anxious to get the message from her fiancé. Again, fear took hold of her as she read the message flashing from her inbox.

  I see the moon,

  and the moon sees me

  "What the fuck?" she exclaimed, preparing to let David know what she thought of his nursery rhyme reply. As she got ready to type, she saw that the message had not come from David at all. It was coming from someone named "Lou." She texted back:

  Wrong number.

  Her phone beeped again.

  "Dude!" she yelled at the empty car while she picked the phone back up off the seat.

  The moon sees the somebody

  I'd like to see

  Not wrong, Kayla, I see you.

  She instinctively looked around her, noticing the Impala parked at the side of the road just ahead. The late afternoon sun sparkled off the chrome skull and blinded her for a second. As she advanced, she saw that the driver was leaning against the side of the car. He smiled his toothy smile at her and raised his hand in a slight wave, a hand that held a cell phone.

  "Leave me alone, you crazy fuck!" she yelled out the window while she sped past him. Dialing 911, she slipped the Bluetooth adapter over her ear. The familiar click of a connection on the line, and she began her story.

  "There's a creepy guy in a black Impala. He followed me from Barstow, California. I'm on Highway 40, about fifty miles outside of Kingman, Arizona. Please help. I think he's crazy!"

  "Crazy seems like such a harsh word, Kayla," a voice growled gently on the other end of the line. "Maybe moonstruck is more appropriate."

  Kayla gasped as the smooth, almost sexy voice laughed heartily.

  "What do you want?"

  "A nice, plump mouthful. That's all."

  "Who are you and how the hell do you know my name?"

  "All in good time, my dear," Lou replied and hung up.

  Kayla looked at the phone and started to feel a lump of panic in her throat. How is he doing this? she thought to herself. What did he mean by "A nice, plump mouthful"? Where had she heard that phrase before? She was so freaked out she couldn't even think straight.

  She needed to get off of this highway and into the next town. She would talk to the police in person and get this sick fuck off of her tail.

  She pressed the accelerator almost all the way to the floor, reaching a speed of about one hundred. After a couple of miles, she started to think about the lecture again, and how she was going to lose her bonus if she wrecked this car. How would she explain it to her boss? Would everyone assume that she'd been drinking and driving? She didn't want to go through all of that again. All the suspicious looks and gossipy whispers. Not to mention losing her job. If she lost her job at the auto dealership, she would be stuck with her awful mother forever. While all of this swirled in her head, she eased the car down to seventy-five, the actual speed limit.

  The black Impala rounded the curve behind her, going at least ninety. How did he catch up with her so fast?

  "Shit, shit, shit!" She was close to tears now, but she quickly socked them away. Breaking down like a sniveling baby won't help anything, she heard her mother saying inside her head. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she sat up straighter in her seat.

  "Think!" Kayla commanded herself. Her mother hijacked her inner voice one more time.

  Are you gonna cry like a bitch, or roar like a beast? Her inner mother asked her.

  "Roar like a beast!" she said aloud. She surveyed the terrain surrounding the road. A whole lot of nothing was what she saw. The Impala ran dangerously close to her bumper and then backed off. He was toying with her like a cat with a bug.

  It was just starting to get dark out again. Looking at the dash clock, she saw it was just about six. Not that it matters, she thought. As she chastised herself for worrying about things that weren't important, her eyes caught a faint light in the distance off to her right. She tried to figure out what that light was coming from.

  A house! Well, it actually looked like a shack, but if it had people inside who could help her, it was a palace. She jerked the wheel hard to the right and drove off into the Arizona desert. The Impala came to a halt and sat idling on the road, watching her. There was no slowing down for her. She needed to reach the house and get help. That was all that mattered.

  In a flurry of dust devils, she stopped the sports car in front of the ramshackle home. Jumping out and running to the door, she prayed someone was there and that they would have a working phone. Kayla knocked on the door like a bimbo in a horror movie.

  "Please help me—I need help!"

  "Just a minute, please," a sweet voice called from inside.

  She could hear the creak of a recliner and light footsteps across the floor. The door opened an inch, and the eye of an old woman peered out at her suspiciously.

  "Can I help you?" The elderly woman asked her.

  "Yes, please! Someone is chasing me. I need your help," Kayla pleaded.

  "Oh my gracious!"

  "May I please come in?"

  "Yes, of course, my dear. Why, you look like you've had quite a fright. Come in and sit down."

  The door opened all the way to reveal a surprisingly cozy little living room. The woman ushered her in and sat her down on a brown couch with a large afghan covering the back. She wore a blue floral dress with a white sweater over her shoulders. Kayla had flashes of every Norman Rockwell painting she had ever seen. This lady was everyone's ideal Grandma.

  "Thank you, ma'am."

  "Oh phooey, my name is Catherine," she waved her hand to dismiss Kayla's courtesy.

  "My name is Kayla. Pleased to meet you"

  "Let me get you some tea, dear."

  "That's all right, Catherine, I just need to use your phone if that's okay."

  "Oh, no phone here. No use for one. Did you say that something was chasing you?" she asked as she set about making two cups of hot tea.

  "Not something, someone."

  "Oh my! Well, my Grandson should be here shortly. He checks up on me every night, you know.” Catherine smiled with pride. "He'll help you, sweetheart."

  Kayla took the cup of tea and sipped the hot liquid. It was surprisingly calming.

  "When does your grandson get here?"

  "He gets here when Wheel of Fortune starts, at seven."

  Catherine smiled her sweet grandmotherly smile and sipped her own tea.

  Kayla sat bolt upright when she heard the rumble coming closer and closer to the cottage.

  "Oh my God!"

  "What is it, dear?"

  "It's him!"

  "Him, who?" As Catherine finished her question, the door burst open. Lou stood in the doorway, shoulders back, head held high. The collar of his black shirt had been unbuttoned to the waist, revealing a hairy chest.

  The old woman cowered in the large cream-colored recliner as Lou approached her.

  "Leave her alone," Kayla said with less conviction than she would have liked.

  "How sweet. You went to grandma's house for protection," he snarled at her. His gravel-toned voice stopped her cold. As he looked at her, his eyes appeared to have a dull yellowish tint. Lou reached down and grabbed the whimpering old woman by the throat and lifted her from the chair. When he threw her across the tiny room, Kayla heard the thud and took off running outside. When she reached the Stingray, she realized she had left the keys inside the house. She thought for a split second about going back in.

  "Fuck that!" she said out loud, and took off running into the desert. The noises coming from the house did not bode well for the kindly old lady, but Kayla couldn't think of that right now. She just kept running with no real destination in mind. Her only goal was to get as far away from that monster as possible.

  When she felt the thump on the back of her head,
she had no idea what had hit her. She lost her footing and fell to the ground, rolling over onto her back. The starry night sky and the full moon were suddenly blocked by Lou's seemingly enlarged head.

  "Hey there, Little Red Riding Hood!" He chuckled as his fist connected with her face and she lost consciousness.

  * * *

  "Wake up, Red!" A gruff voice called out.

  Kayla felt a light tap on her already sore cheek. She roused out of unconsciousness to see that it was still night, but the moon had risen to its fullness, casting a silvery glow over the desert floor. She tried to rub her aching head, but she realized her hands were bound behind her back. Her leg hurt like hell, too.

  "What the fuck is going on here?" Her eyes were still adjusting to the silver moonlight, but she could tell he was there, in the shadows.

  Lou stepped forward into the glow. He had removed all of his clothes and was standing in front of her completely naked.

  Kayla looked at him, trying not to stare at the rather large appendage directly in front of her.

  "Please don't…" She trailed off, crying.

  "Relax. I'm not going to do that. Not really my thing."

  He touched her temple and brushed her blond hair behind her ear. She was surprised at the tenderness in his touch.

  "If you don't want that, what do you want from me?"

  Lou looked down at her with what appeared to be pity.

  "Why, I'm going to eat you, my dear." With that, he walked a few paces, dropped down to all fours, and began to twist and writhe on the desert floor.

  Kayla tried to scoot further away, but it was no use; she was tied to a ring embedded in the hardpan dirt.

  Lou lifted his shoulders, and Kayla could see the muscles in his back stretch and contort until they were twice the width of a normal man's back. His knees bent backward, and she could hear the wet, grinding sound of bones cracking as the joints twisted in unnatural ways. Lou's fingers splayed out in the dirt, and large, black claws burst through the skin… skin that now had a thick coating of wiry black fur sprouting from every inch. He lifted his head, and she saw his mouth and a set of pointed teeth, complete with two-inch canines, growing and forming an elongated snout. His eyes were now a bright iridescent yellow. He stood up to his full height and looked at the full moon. An ungodly howl emanated from this beast that, seconds before, had been a man. It sniffed at the air and then turned its attention to Kayla. The huge werewolf lumbered to where she was bound, cocked its head, and flared its large black nostrils as though it enjoyed the scent of her paralyzing fear. Without warning, the beast lunged at her. She closed her eyes and said her last prayer: Dear God, please let it be quick.

  Then the shots rang out like thunder clapping in a stormy sky.

  Bang! Bang!

  The big bad wolf collapsed at Kayla's feet, its huge claw digging into the flesh of her upper thigh. She could see the two bullet holes in its back… a back that was already shrinking down as the wolf turned back into the driver of the Impala.

  She looked around frantically to see where the shots had come from. A young man of about thirty with strong muscular shoulders and kind eyes stepped into the silvery moonlight holding a rifle, and began to cut her free.

  "My Grandma said I would find you out here somewhere."

  "Is she all right? I thought she was dead."

  Kayla felt a wave of guilt, realizing she had left an old woman to fight a beast all alone.

  "Grandma? She's fine. Just a little banged up. These werewolves usually don't come out this early. Caught us all by surprise, even Grandma." He helped her to her feet.

  "Let's get you back to the house so you can get cleaned up and be on your way. Should be safe now. I'll bury him later tonight." He smiled at her, but that smile faded as he asked, "He didn't bite you, did he?"

  "No, I'm ok."

  "Good, cause if he did, I'd have to shoot you." He helped her limp back to the house as she rubbed the cut on her upper thigh.

  An hour later, as she pulled away from Catherine's cottage, clean and bandaged with a few Advil in her system, she flipped on the radio. Creedence Clearwater slyly sang about a bad moon rising. She turned the dial to the off position and decided to ride on in silence.

  Chapter 3

  Kayla Burkheart had had enough of that job, anyway. After traveling across five states to deliver that Corvette Stingray, she was done with selling classic cars.

  In all fairness, the seventy thousand-dollar car she was delivering had arrived in Texas with a nine-inch scratch on the passenger side door. Her boss had warned her that even one tiny scratch would be her undoing. Even if you happened to be a size queen, nine inches was not exactly tiny.

  Of course, driving off-road through the desert while running from a fucking werewolf was not an excuse Mr. Groves had been prepared for. But it was the truth, after all. At least he was nice enough to give her the bonus and her overtime pay. She had left Groves Classic Custom Cars in Olympia, Washington with a check for ten thousand dollars, a bruised ego, an unbelievable story, and a big scratch on her right thigh.

  Oh well, she thought to herself, and headed back to her mother's house. She never thought of it as home; it was always her mother's house. That bitch had never been anything but horrible to her. Her dad had run off with another woman when Kayla was twelve. Her mother told Kayla it was her fault he'd left. She knew better at thirty-one. At twelve, she had believed everything her mom said. She knew now that her mother, Carolyn, was an evil, demonic shrew no one could ever love.

  It was no wonder Kayla turned to alcohol and pills to numb herself from the constant barrage of abuse. Those days were behind her now. She had been sober for two years, and she had no intention of going back to that life. Besides, she had David now. At least she thought she did. She had not heard from him since the second day of her week-long trek from Washington to Texas. They normally talked every few days, if not every day.

  After she settled back in at Carolyn's house, she was going to his apartment to see what the hell was wrong. She knew it had better be a damn good reason, or there was going to be a problem.

  When she tried to slip quietly into the house, Carolyn called out to her.

  "Kayla? Is that you?"

  "Yeah," she responded in a drone-like voice.

  "Get in here."

  Kayla stomped into the living room, where Carolyn sat every waking moment watching talk shows and soap operas.

  "What?"

  "Well, I thought I would ask how your trip went, if that's all right with you."

  "Fine."

  "Just fine?"

  "Yeah."

  "Mr. Groves called. He said after he fired you and you stormed out, you forgot to take your jacket," Carolyn snarked with obvious self-satisfaction.

  "Shit!"

  "Watch it, Missy! This is still my home, and you will not be disrespectful! Can you tell me how you are planning on paying me the rent you owe?"

  "Don't worry, you'll get paid."

  "Really? How exactly does an unemployed, alcoholic, pill popper plan to pay rent? Are you going down to the corner to try and make some money?"

  Kayla looked at her with the resignation that came with years of putting up with this type of bullshit.

  "Good luck with that!" Carolyn laughed at her own joke. A witch's cackle that grated on Kayla's nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

  "Gee, thanks."

  "Well, you might as well make yourself useful if you're gonna be an unemployed lay about. Make me a drink."

  "Seriously?"

  "Did I fucking stutter? Make me a damn drink. Vodka twist."

  "Bitch," Kayla muttered under her breath as she walked into the kitchen.

  "What?"

  "Nothing."

  The bottle of vodka was sitting on the counter, half empty. When she opened the lid, the smell that only a drunk could appreciate wafted up and filled her head with a craving that actually hurt in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to take a drink of that vodka s
o badly, but thought of what she would be losing and just poured the old bitch a drink.

  After the obligatory dealings with her horrible mother, Kayla couldn't wait to see David. She was pissed he hadn't answered her fajillion texts, but was hopeful that he had a good reason. The shitty, dumpy studio apartment that he rented was just up ahead. She pulled into a parking spot in front of the tiny, broken down building and got out of her Honda. She always worried about parking here, afraid that her car might be up on blocks when she came out. Even the hookers stayed away from this part of town. She buzzed to be let in, and David's voice on the intercom released the knot that had developed in the pit of her stomach.

  "Who is it?"

  "It's me, babe. Buzz me in."

  "Why?"

  "What do you mean, why? Buzz me in."

  "Sure, why the hell not?"

  She waited for the buzz so she could get upstairs and get the explanations needed for his behavior. She was greeted at the door by a David who was unfamiliar to her. He looked as though he had not showered or shaved for at least three or four days. It was the way he had looked upon his arrival at the rehab center where they'd met. He looked at Kayla and turned back into the single room, leaving the door open for her.

  "What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked him, starting to get pissed off all over again.

  "Well, Kayla, you tell me."

  "Have you been drinking?"

  "No," he said sheepishly, obviously uncomfortable with his lie. She couldn't smell alcohol on him, so he hadn't been drinking that day at least.

  "David, why?" She wanted to cry. How could he be so weak?

  "When I hadn't gotten a message from you in like three days, I went to your mom's house. Carolyn told me all about your trip, and the guy you met on the road. How could you do that to me, Kayla?" He sat down in the one chair he owned, looking lost.