Intent on tracing their lineage, they descend into a world of lies, fear, ancient myths, and death. Indian hunters have tracked them to the family compound, Jason is wanted for murders he doesn’t remember committing, and their new-found family is on a mission to kill them. It seems their only hope for survival is to combine forces with two unlikely allies and trek across the globe to the place where it all began. Maybe there they can find a way to end it.
Author Bio
Willow Cross resides in Arkansas with her husband, two children still young enough to live at home, an enormous cat named Bitsy, and a neurotic dog named Tank. Her home has been known to host the occasional ghost and several of her friends profess to be witches. Although she dearly loves Vampires and Werewolves, they are never invited for dinner.
Chapter One
Bang, clang, bang reverberated up the basement stairs and throughout the house. Sarah had already attempted to finish her homework in every room available, but the volume of noise remained equal in each. At least the kitchen table offered usable workspace.
Every so often a swoosh and tick tick tick from the portable welder would interrupt the clatter of metal being pounded into place. Then the bangs would begin again.
She took a sip of coffee and sat her cup on the kitchen table harder than normal. Hot liquid sloshed over the sides and pooled under the blank sheet of paper that was supposed to have been an essay on slavery in the modern world. “Crap.”
The sunflower border atop the yellow walls was obviously meant to imbue a happy, even peaceful, atmosphere. However, intention fell short. It didn't even come close to matching her mood. She stared at the mess on the table as the banging continued.
For the umpteenth time that afternoon, Sarah wondered what Aunt Edna would have done in this situation. Sure they'd never met, but it would've been nice to have a grownup's perspective. A scowl crossed her face as she thought of what the last set of foster parents would have done. Jason would already be in an institution somewhere, if not in jail.
She sighed and grabbed a paper towel. Grownups were usually more trouble than they were worth. Besides, seventeen was pretty darn close to grown up. Close enough anyhow.
Yesterday was the first she'd heard her brother banging away in the basement. Up till then, Jason had been meticulous about working on his project while she was at school. And when she'd asked what in the world he was doing, she certainly hadn't been prepared for his answer.
“Ha ha, very funny.” Sarah had rolled her eyes, flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder, and turned to walk away.
Jason grabbed her arm and spun her around. “This is serious! Why can’t I remember? Why do I keep waking up naked in the woods?”
“Do you have any idea how crazy you sound? You were dreaming. It must have been a dream.”
His eyes narrowed. “And I suppose I dreamed the naked run home, cutting between houses, trying to get here without anyone seeing me?”
The thought of her brother running naked through the neighborhood was too funny to ignore. She was unable to stifle the snort that came through her nose.
Jason’s expression hadn't changed, but his grip strengthened. His eyes pleaded with her to listen as he whispered, “Why am I covered in blood every time, Sarah. And why can't I remember?”
She looked pointedly at her arm and he released her. Rubbing the tender area, she said, “Fine. I’ll do this, but when nothing comes of it, you have to promise to get help.”
According to Jason, his blackouts had been occurring three times a month. Coincidently, on the three nights the moon was fullest. He never remembered anything. And although he didn't come right out and say it, she knew he thought he was turning into some sort of monster. He'd been complaining a lot about new hair growing all over him. But geeze, he was twenty-one. Aren’t guys supposed to get hairy as they age?
Her immediate reaction was to call a shrink, but the horrifying events of the last few months stopped her. Newspaper headlines spoke of local police finding several mutilated bodies in the woods surrounding the area. Police and Townies had dubbed the suspected serial killer, ‘The Full Moon Slasher.' However, the thought of his being involved in something so irrational, or supernatural, couldn't be taken seriously. Those kinds of things just didn’t happen. Ever.
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