Winter's Wolf (The Cursed Book 1) Read online

  Lou Grimes

  Winter’s Wolf

  The Cursed

  Copyright © 2020 by Lou Grimes

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Lou Grimes asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  Lou Grimes has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  First edition

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  I’d like to thank my husband, family, and friends that supported me from start to finish.

  Contents

  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 1

  The impact of the sucker punch sent Louvette to the ground hard. Pain flared across her cheek as it split. The effects of her adrenaline paused as her mother’s words of warning replayed in her mind: Make this school last until graduation. She knew this would break her mother’s heart.

  A shout that did not come from her mother took her back to present reality. She hadn’t started this fight, but she knew she wasn’t going to let her butt get stomped, either.

  She jumped up. Her fist balled as a blonde pixie of a girl came at her. Louvette dodged her this time and swung her fist straight into the girl’s nose. A solid crunch sounded as her attack landed. Her momentary satisfaction was thrown off along with her balance as the girls fell to the ground.

  A large arm separated them apart as the coach finally arrived to do his job. They continued to kick at each other, looking like barrel monkeys hanging off a barrel.

  “Break it up! Lynskey and Mallory, report to the principal’s office immediately,” snapped Coach No Clue. No clue what his name was because she hadn’t been in his class or let alone the whole school of Farwell long enough to learn it.

  She was more dragged down the hallway toward the principal’s office than reported to it.

  The Queen B, otherwise known as Tiffany Mallory, began to beg immediately, spawning an eye roll from Louvette. She was a whiny beggar. Just one of many B words that could describe her to a T, but it was the nicest one that Louvette could think of.

  Her pleading stopped as they arrived at the door of the principal’s office. They locked eyes for a second, hatred flaring toward each other.

  “I’m first. I’m on my third offense and I’m not waiting all day for you to get a slap on the wrist,” Louvette said to Tiffany as she darted past her into the office. The only thing that stopped her from slamming the door in B’s face was the creature on the other side of the door.

  The principal of Farwell High School should have retired years ago before his hump started forming, body hair wouldn’t quit growing, and his skunk colored hair began to sprout. His eyes were sharp and beady as they focused on Louvette.

  “Don’t bother sitting,” he snapped as Louvette moved towards the chair. She winced as she stood up straight. She hadn’t expected to truly get booted on the third office visit because many schools before had attempted to give her a fourth chance.

  “Ms. Lynskey, you’ve had two infractions already. We are only three weeks into the school year. Do you remember what I told you a week ago? Don’t answer that. The law works on three strikes, and you have struck out for the last time. I’m calling your mother to come pick you up. As of today, you are expelled from Farwell High. I’d say good luck at your next school, but we both know from your track record that you’ll need more than luck,” he declared as her mouth began to open.

  “Your things will be sent up to the office so as to not incite another hallway fight. Please wait here until your mother arrives,” he said to Louvette. She sighed as she opened the door and saw that the Queen B was nowhere to be seen. The secretary met her searching gaze.

  “The vice principal let her go,” she informed Louvette. Louvette sat down in one of the many chairs in the waiting area as the high school security delivered the contents of her locker. She knew that Tiffany wasn’t going to get in trouble because Daddy dearest donated a sizeable amount of money to the school.

  When her book bag arrived, she checked it for her worn sketch pad. Louvette had been using it before she and Tiffany got in a fight. She had many hours’ worth of work on a portrait of a woman that she had ripped out of a magazine that she had added her own nature goddess spin to and didn’t want to lose. She had planned to submit this to an art contest, but they required a better GPA than she currently had. Louvette wasn’t stupid but, getting expelled as often as she did wasn’t the best learning environment.

  Louvette bit her lip out of anxiety as the time kept ticking. Her mom would be leaving the little hometown diner called D’s Cafe to get her, her temper mounting. She didn’t scream, yell, or tell her how disappointed she was in Louvette like most parents would. Her parenting was way more passive aggressive than that. She’d always say wistfully, “I hope the next town works for you.” She’d joke backhandedly about Louvette’s own skills of obtaining expulsion. She’d move her off to another new town.

  The front door of the office opened as her mother stepped in. Disappointment caked her face. Sarah Lynskey was tall in contrast to Louvette’s muscled fun size build. Her hair was dirty blonde and her eyes were a forest green. Louvette wondered how often people must have thought her mother had stolen her because they were opposites, to say the least. Louvette forever believed her mother was a shoe-in for Baywatch because of her brimming bosom and sky high legs.

  Sarah had been a single mother all Louvette’s life. She’d grown up in a southern small town. After high school she took the year off and met Louvette’s father in the process. A few months of dating and she was pregnant. Either Louvette’s father was a horrible man and she ran from him, or he ran from her. She wasn’t sure because her mother never would give her the full story. Sarah believed she was protecting her daughter.

  Louvette knew her mother raised her as best she could without a father figure around. She had met a few of her mother’s boyfriends, but most were no good. As soon as the guys’ rottenness was revealed, she and her mother would run from them. Her mother had repeatedly told Louvette that she wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.

  “I tried to talk to the principal on the phone, but it didn’t do any good, especially since it was such a struggle to get you in in the first place. I have no clue where w
e will go now,” she said bluntly as Louvette got up from the chair and moved outside toward the parking lot with her.

  Their ancient Grand Am was parked on the fire lane right down the steps. It had its very own custom rust job. A sigh escaped Louvette’s lips as she understood that her mother had realized how this day was going to end because she didn’t even attempt to park correctly or legally.

  The remainder of the day and night promised her mother shedding tears in her room, more packing, and music blaring while Louvette sketched to blow off some steam as she was once again blamed for their current circumstances.

  She hadn’t initiated that fight, but to her mother she might as well have. Anger flared up in her as she threw her backpack across the back seat and plopped herself in the back to avoid side glances from her mother. The eye checks weren’t the only thing that Louvette wished to avoid. She wanted to be anywhere but here for the conversation that was about to start.

  “I thought we were going to make this work, Louvette,” her mother lamented.

  “I did my best to make it work. It’s everyone else who won’t,” Louvette snapped, losing her temper.

  Her mom gave a painfully loud sigh as she looked off into the flat fields. She started the auto dinosaur and they were off to the apartments.

  Farwell was more of a mite than a town. There was only one gas station, barely a grocery store, and a couple of banks. It was right on the Texas-New Mexico border. Louvette could throw a rock from their current apartment and it would land on New Mexico soil. There were few trees, tons of cattle from feed yards and dairies, and some crop fields.

  She’d been in over fifteen different schools. All were varying in size, from small town to metropolitan schools. Someone constantly found a problem with her. Louvette could own up to her temper and knew she was not blameless. Still, she was only ever finishing what someone else started.

  It amazed Louvette that schools still accepted her. She knew her mother was astounded as well, but Sarah’s skills of persuasion were just too overwhelming for the schools to resist. No one pleaded the case for a troubled individual better than her mother. Her mother could get her off death row if she desired, Louvette thought dryly.

  The car’s brakes whined in protest as her mother turned into their apartment complex. Sarah got out of the car and scanned the parking lot as usual. A habit formed after a slew of bad choices and bad men when Louvette was younger. Sarah never told her anything about her father. Louvette didn’t know who he was or where he came from. She never even received a name. No pictures. No keepsakes. Louvette used to check the milk box when she was younger, thinking that her mom might have kidnapped her since the two of them looked so different.

  The apartment built in sixties had the brown orange shag carpet, vintage green lamps that still worked, limestone mutilated faucets, and locks and latches on the doors that were scraped up from years of abuse. The apartment could use some repairs to say the least.

  They headed inside their minuscule apartment with a single bedroom and a futon in the living room that her mother slept on. The light flickered on as the door shut.

  “I have to work the early shift tomorrow so we can have enough gas money to make it somewhere good,” her mother said reservedly. She shot a small, painful glance toward Louvette.

  “I’ll start packing everything when I wake up,” Louvette amended, feeling the mental need for a shower and nap.

  Louvette went to the bathroom and closed the door quietly behind her as her mother sagged down to the couch. She braced her hands against the sink, and she took in the wild girl that stared back at her. Gray blue and gold flecked eyes glared back from her heart shaped face that her haircut accentuated. Her skin had barely a tan that contrasted her curly chestnut hair. Louvette was not blessed with her mother’s good genes in the breast department. She filled a B, but that was it. Her slim waist and wide hips made up for it.

  Louvette blew out air and brushed her teeth. The shower was relaxing and almost lulled Louvette to sleep. Once Louvette had finished and her head hit the pillow, she was out.

  ***

  The world was blurry and out of focus. The only thing that was in focus was a man who appeared out of nowhere. The light flashed in and out as she tried to discern who stood before her. The light settled for a moment. The consistency of that light was that of bright moonlight.

  A tall, older man stared at her. He looked strikingly familiar. His eyes were the same color as hers and they warmed when he looked at her. Though his curly hair had begun to salt and pepper, the chestnut shade was undeniably like hers.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but the words choked in her throat. Her hands went to her tight throat. Her mind went back to the man, bewildered.

  His eyes focused as he looked past her, a confused expression on his face. He opened his mouth and spoke, but silence met Louvette’s ears. He continued to talk. She realized his mouth was repeating the same thing over and over again, but Louvette couldn’t read lips to save her life.

  A shotgun sounded as the bullet flew past her straight into the tall man’s chest. The man didn’t stagger or yell out in pain. He just looked at her, sadness in his eyes.

  The bullet hole in his chest smoked and sizzled. The smoke was a light gray and had metallic hints in it. The veins of the man started to blacken at the entry wound, giving them an almost spider web like design. This blackness in the veins was spreading throughout the man’s body. He just stared on until the black poison reached his eyes. Those familiar eyes turned black and the man fell to the ground, knees first.

  The sound of another gunshot dropped her to the ground. Her veins burned like acid. Louvette couldn’t breathe. Her lungs suffered like broken glass was in them, making her cough as she attempted to breathe around the glass pieces, screaming silently. Her head seemed too light and the world went black.

  ***

  Louvette jerked awake in horror, grasping at her chest. The dull sound of low television brought her back to reality. Though the door was closed, she listened for any signs of life. Sarah’s continual snoring proved that her nightmare had not woken her mother up. She sighed in relief that she hadn’t given her mother another reason to be pissed off for the day after ruining her sleep.

  Her stomach growled audibly, causing her to check her phone and find that it was already 9 p.m. and she had slept passed dinner. She headed quietly to the fridge to grab something to eat. The fridge door revealed the minimum to live on: milk, bacon, and some condiments. She went toward the milk first for some easy cereal, but the thought of bacon made her hesitate. The deciding factor was that she’d wake her mother up if she cooked bacon, so she settled for some good old fashioned Fruity Pebbles.

  After finishing her dinner, she headed backed to bed. She closed her bleary eyes, hoping her sleep would be nightmareless.

  ***

  The sun coming through her apartment window was the first thing she saw when she woke up. The T.V. was off as she sat up, so she knew that it was past six and that her mother had already left for work. She’d offer to pack everything as a peace treaty, but it wasn’t much of one when she already kept about half her stuff packed out of habit anyways. Her mother wasn’t a hoarder either, so packing would only take her about an hour. That left until 3 p.m. for her to go for a run. Running was her favorite hobby besides drawing. Drawing kept her from going stir crazy when they went on long car rides.

  Louvette packed up everything up in just enough time to stretch and go for a run. Dripping sweat, she arrived back to the apartment after she was done. Her muscles were worn out.

  An unfamiliar sleek black Cadillac was parked in front of their unit. A man stood beside their door. The car and the man caught Louvette off guard enough to slow to a walk as her mother made her timely arrival. Louvette and her mother exchanged glances as the man stepped out into the parking lot heading toward them. Worry lined her mother’s face as she exited her car and casually stood in front of Louvette like she was a guard dog.
r />   The man striding toward them had black hair and a strong square chin. His eyes were a cerulean blue. His skin had an olive tint to it that suggested some Pacific Islander heritage in his blood. The man was built lanky.

  He had on a custom fit black and grey suit. They knew it was custom fit because there was no way this giant went to the store, picked out a medium, and it fit just right. No exposed wrist or ankles. The car combined with the tailored suit screamed money.

  When his eyes focused on Sarah, the man’s jaw clenched out of determination like he was going to war.

  “Hi, Sarah. Do you remember me?” the man asked while he bridged the space between them. He paused at an appropriate distance, waiting for her answer.

  “No,” she said firmly, like she did, but was reluctant to admit it.

  “I’m Thomas Hollows. The school told me where I could find you. I serve as Wilder Blackwood’s lawyer. He died recently and Louvette is the only one named in the will since Declan, his son, can’t be found,” he informed her, sending a quick glance over at Louvette. “Mr. Blackwood believed she was his granddaughter. I can see it’s true just from looking at her. Those Blackwood genes run strong. She’s just like Wilder and Declan.”

  “Wilder is my grandfather’s name and Declan is my father’s name,” Louvette whispered to herself. Her mother never even given her a name to go on, so she burned those names into her mind.

  “I haven’t spoken to them in sixteen years and the last time I did, they didn’t want anything to do with us,” Sarah said, exasperated. She ignored Louvette’s words and focused on the intruder at hand.

  “He wrote you a letter explaining what happened. He left your daughter everything. The house in Whitefish, the car, and a sizable bank account. Don’t turn me away. This is a chance at some stability and judging from the call I made to the school, you two could use some,” he bluntly said to her mother, dispatching a loaded look to her. Her mother’s mouth dropped to the floor at his cruel statement.