Deceit Can Be Deadly
Nicky Charles
DECEIT CAN BE DEADLY
Nicky Charles
Published by Nicky Charles
on Smashwords
Deceit can be Deadly
Copyright © 2017 by Nicky Charles
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or used in any form whatsoever without permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author. Your support and respect are appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. The mention of characters that originally appeared in Jan Gordon’s “Life In The Shadows” are used with permission and are copyrighted to her.
Canadian grammar was used in this book, hence you might notice some punctuation and spelling variations.
This book contains mature content and is intended for mature readers.
Edited by Jan Gordon
Line edits by Moody Edits
Cover Design by Jazer Designs
Cover images used under license from Shutterstock.com
Paw print and wolf logo Copyright © Doron Goldstein, Designer
ISBN: 9781370765263
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Foreword
Book of the Law quote
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
A Message from Nicky
Connect with Nicky Charles
Books by Nicky Charles
Dedication
This book is dedicated Sherman and all strays no matter what species they might be. It is my hope that someone will read this note and make a donation to an animal shelter, adopt a stray or neuter their pet to prevent more homeless animals.
Sadly, Sherman wandered into my yard too late to be saved. He was so friendly, it was obvious he had been someone’s pet. The day I brought him in, it was below freezing and snowy. His fur was wet and matted. There were old wounds from fights and he was so congested he couldn’t even smell the food I put in front of him.
An emergency trip to the vet revealed he had pneumonia, was severely under-weight, the bites and scratches were infected, plus he had contracted FIV as well as feline leukemia. That combination of factors sealed his fate.
So many if-onlys wandered through my mind as I gave him his final scratch behind the ears; if only he’d been vaccinated, if only he’d been neutered so he wouldn’t fight, if only he’d been micro-chipped and kept inside…
If Sherman’s story saves even one animal, it will give his sad life some meaning.
RIP, Sherman
Acknowledgements
The Law of the Lycans series might be written by Nicky Charles but there are so many individuals who support me in this endeavour. Without them I don’t know if these books would ever be written or discovered by readers!
First of all, there is Jan Gordon, my friend, prop, whip-cracker and sounding board as well as my editor. We hash out story ideas, argue over word usage, fret over details and plot twists. If she ever gets tired of her job, I’m in BIG trouble.
Then there’s the dynamic duo of Kalia and Carmen who are dear friends, and the creative geniuses behind the Facebook character pages. They run the Law of the Lycans fan page, help organize release parties, run promotional giveaways and entertain me with their crazy antics.
Next, we have my wonderful cover designer, Jessica Stelluto, who takes my visions and refines and polishes them into amazing covers. She has the patience of a saint when it comes to allowing me to try and discard ideas as well as tweaking little details.
Jennifer Moody of MoodyEdits does the final line edits and catches all the pesky typos and grammar demons that eluded me and Jan. Her ‘eagle-eye’ is invaluable to producing a quality final product.
Now, let’s look at my street team. My main promoters, Suzi and Lorna, are amazing! They spend hours on the internet searching opportunities to promote my books on blogs. It’s likely because of them that you learned about this latest book. Suzi also makes some of the lovely ribbon bookmarks we use in giveaways while Lorna has become my main graphics girl this year, whipping up banners at the drop of a hat.
Carolyn has been amazing at ‘liking’ posts and also tries to promote the book through posts when she can. Quentin is my go-to guy for techie information. Norma and Melonie are my fellow Canadians and understand my obsession with the weather, Tim Horton’s coffee and my quirky sense of humour! Patti and Hayley can always be counted to ‘like’ comments and promote the books whenever possible. And then Ashley, Vanessa, Juli, Susan, Tina, Kathy, Lindsey, Ashley, Irene, Leila and Vanessa help out as their busy schedules allow.
Finally, I’d like to recognize Mark Coker, founder and CEO of Smashwords. If it hadn’t been for his vision of a publishing platform for independent authors none of this would have happened!
Foreword
There are many references to the moon in this book such as a black moon, a blood moon and a blood moon tetrad. Some of these are scientific terms while others are based in folklore. At all times, I chose the definition that suited the purpose of this story! If you are not sure what these terms mean, read on!
A new moon occurs when the moon's Earth-facing side is fully in shadow. A new moon cannot be seen.
A black moon has several possible definitions depending which folklore you follow. Some say it is the second new moon within a calendar month. They occur about once every twenty-nine months. Others say a black moon is the third new moon in a season of four new moons. Finally, others contend it is a calendar month without a full moon. (About once every twenty years, February does not have a full moon. Instead, January and March have two full moons each.)
A full moon occurs when the moon's Earth-facing side is fully illuminated by sunlight.
A blue moon is the second full moon in a calendar month. An older definition says a blue moon is the third of four full moons in a single season. The term blue moon, surprisingly enough usually doesn’t refer to an actual blue-coloured moon! The term “once in a blue moon” used to mean something rare. Now that there are so many possible rules for defining a blue moon, it could become quite common!
A total lunar eclipse does not occur often. Only about one in three lunar eclipses are total, and about four or five total eclipses can be seen from any single location on Earth in a decade.
A lunar tetrad is four successive total lunar eclipses, with no partial eclipses in between, each of which is separated from the other by six lunar months (six full moons).
A blood moon can refer to a lunar tetrad or it can
be used to describe any total lunar eclipse because a full moon very often turns red when completely eclipsed. The term blood moon is not an astronomical or scientific term.
“Deceit is deadly to the well-being of a pack. It erodes the very foundation that unites members, creates distrust and breaks down the bonds that are essential to all. A pack must function as a unit, relying on the integrity of each other at all times. If the word of a pack mate cannot be trusted, doubt begins to fester. For this reason, one who practises deceit should be cast out to roam the world on their own. There is no place for such an individual person in the Lycan world.”
Source: Book of the Law
Prologue
October 28, 1566 – England
The flickering of a lantern broke the darkness, a mere speck of brightness like some whimsical fairy. It bobbed between the trees, paused and then continued, marking the passage of the person holding it. Occasionally, the light suddenly dipped as its carrier stumbled; brambles, sticks and tangled weeds wrapped around unsuspecting legs, as if trying to hold back the midnight traveller.
Eventually, the light from the lantern stopped moving and settled close to the ground in the middle of a small clearing. Laboured breathing and a suppressed sob were almost completely masked by the howl of the gale and the clatter of bare branches. It was late October, any memories of the green of summer or the gold of autumn killed by an early frost that had left the landscape brown and dead. Dead like the look on the girl’s face.
Wind whipped at her hair, tearing it free from its plait and lashing it against her tear-stained cheeks. Her face pale, her lips trembled as she dropped to her knees, physically and emotionally exhausted. The events leading up to this had taken their toll and, for a moment, she bowed her head and closed her eyes, the precious bundle she carried pressed to her chest.
Overhead, heavy clouds raced across the inky sky, pushed along by the strong gusts. They allowed mere glimpses of the stars that dotted the velvety dome and the shining orb of the moon that waited patiently for its moment of glory. A storm was brewing but it wouldn’t let loose its fury until the evening’s celestial event occurred.
A blood moon would grace the night sky, the particular alignment of sun, moon and planet releasing a powerful aura, one filled with magic and endless possibilities. Already those sensitive to such things were preparing. Some sought to shield themselves with locked doors and protective herbs while others embraced the moment, revelling in the power and harnessing it to do their bidding.
The girl took a deep breath and straightened her spine. She chose to be part of the latter group, reaching out to use the power of the night. Now was not the time to lose courage.
With extreme care, she unwrapped the bundle she had cradled to her body and laid it on the ground in front of her. The ancient leather cover was scarred and worn, the edges of the paper inside equally tattered and stained from generations of use. It contained the sum total of her lineage’s knowledge, a knowledge she was about to use.
Her hand hovered over the book, a last-minute doubt causing her to hesitate. Then a gust of wind blew the cover open and ruffled the pages until some unseen force caused them to still. A red ribbon marked the open page.
Red, the colour of blood.
The colour of love and lust.
The colour of anger and revenge.
It was anger that boiled within her. Anger and resolve to no longer be a pawn to the whims of the heart. Hesitation gone, the girl pressed her hand to the book, gathering strength from the faded ink before moving the lantern closer so it illuminated the page. She ran her finger over the words, ensuring she had the spell correct. There could be no mistake when using magic this powerful. Others might whisper she was a chit of a girl, a mere witchling, but she’d prove them wrong.
As she moved to flip the page, the howl of the elements grew even louder and a gust tried to tug it from her hand. She tightened her grip only to have the lower half tear off and slip from her fingers. It spiralled in a celebratory dance, twirling and twisting in the air, defying her efforts to snatch it back before it disappeared in the gloom.
An expletive escaped her before she pressed her lips together and shook her head. It didn’t matter. She knew the words scrawled by her ancestors, knew what they could do. Knew what she was about to do. Her tongue wet her lips and then she spoke in a quavering voice, a whisper that was carried away by the wind.
“By the light of the blood moon, the heart dies. Without love, time slows.”
Sharp metal pressed against chest, the knife she now held gleaming faintly in the light from the lantern. Her fingers tightened on the handle and she swallowed hard, the enormity of what she was about to do giving her pause.
Was she making the correct choice? Her grandmother’s words, spoken years ago, rang in her mind.
“Magic is powerful. You must always use it wisely.”
“I will.” She’d nodded, her hands already reaching for the book, eager to begin learning how to use the spells within.
“Will you?” Her grandmother had cocked her head, the look in her eyes growing distant as if she could see into the future. The shadow of a grimace had passed over her weathered face as she spoke. “There’s a wildness in you, child, a passion that does not always mix well with magic. The fire in your heart will be your downfall unless you learn to harness it.”
Passion! Her eyes flared at the memory the word evoked. Just as her grandmother had said, passion had been her downfall. She’d believed in love, allowed a man’s smooth words and crooked smile to cloud her judgement.
Bitterness twisted her mouth as she recalled how he’d cupped her cheek and pressed tender kisses to her willing lips, how he’d eased her back to the ground and lifted her clothing all the while whispering how much he cared. His words had filled her with warmth, painted a romantic picture of their future together. She’d given him her heart and her body and he’d used both for his pleasure only to wed another.
At first, she’d cried upon hearing the news and then raged with anger only to cry again. She’d been inconsolable, refusing to eat or leave her bed. Her grandmother, upon discovering the cause of her grief had cursed the fickle lover and his descendants so they’d only know sorrow from love but even that news brought no ease. She was but a shell of the girl she’d once been. Her heart was broken, her emotions dead. This step was all that was left for her.
Overhead, the clouds cleared allowing an uninhibited view of the moon. White and cold, it filled the clearing with its light. Closing her eyes, she turned her face upwards and said the words a second time.
“By the light of the blood moon, the heart dies. Without love, time slows. The curse alone shall survive.”
Opening her eyes, she stared at the sky, watching the creeping darkness cover the moon. Soon it would disappear from sight and then turn blood red. That was when she would act.
The knife handle slipped in her sweaty palms and she firmed her grip pushing the tendrils of doubt firmly away. There was no way she could live with the pain of betrayal, the shame she’d brought upon herself. This was the only action she could take. A blood spell by a blood moon. Simple, yet one of the most powerful spells in the ancient family grimoire.
She took a deep breath.
The moon was almost gone. Slowly, deliberately, she pressed the tip of the knife into her skin. The heart Tomas had broken would love no more. The power of three would make it so. Tears trickled down her cheeks. White hot pain spread through her as a crimson stain appeared on her pale flesh
At that moment, the moon turned red and she chanted the words a final time.
“By the light of the blood moon, the heart dies. Without love, time slows. The curse alone shall survive. Woe to those that remain alive.”
She pressed the knife deeper and, with a cry, fell to the ground.
Chapter 1
Present day, somewhere in the southern United States…
Dante eased back the filthy curtains of his motel room and peer
ed through the window. The glass probably hadn’t been washed in years but he was able to see the sky through the streaks of dirt.
It was a full moon.
That fact sent a chill through him and he cursed before letting the drapes fall back into place. Some perverse side of him had hoped the lunar cycle had miraculously changed. It hadn’t, of course, and his gut knotted knowing the evil it was about to unleash.
A full moon meant there’d be another death tonight. More than one if the first victim didn’t prove satisfactory. The fucking pattern of events had been repeated more times than he cared to remember and there still wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. At least, not yet. Maybe tonight luck would be with him and he’d finally obtain the information he needed.
He checked that his gun was loaded and safely stowed in its holster before bending to place a knife in his boot. He might be a Lycan but he was too fond of his own skin to depend solely on shifting form for protection. His inner wolf understood and took no exception to the weapons. It was a sensible creature.
Once he was properly armed, he slipped on his jacket and then left the seedy room. He’d been in the city for a week, following this lead. That was exactly one week too long to share a room with cockroaches. It was his own fault, though. Next job he’d choose a better alias, one with a pocketful of credit cards and some class.
It was a short walk to the agreed meeting spot but he wanted to be there early. Those stupid enough to arrive on time had no one to blame if they were ambushed. After years in the business he was anything but stupid.
