The blood moon hung over New Orleans like an omen.
Aurora Nightshade stood on the old dock by the Mississippi River, her silver hair catching the red moonlight. The water was dark and still. The city behind her hummed with life, but here by the river, everything was quiet.
She raised her hand to touch the crescent moon birthmark on her collarbone. Ten years ago, this same mark had saved her life. Tonight, it would help her take revenge.
Her violet eyes reflected the moon's crimson glow. But in their depths, another fire burned. The fire that had consumed her childhood home. The fire that had taken everything she loved.
Marcus Blackwood. Ten years. Time to pay your debt.
The thought tasted like blood in her mouth.
Aurora turned away from the river and walked back toward the city. Her heels clicked against the old wooden planks. Each step brought her closer to her enemy.
Six hours earlier...
The customs line at Louis Armstrong International Airport moved slowly. Aurora stood behind a family of tourists, her black leather briefcase in one hand, her passport in the other.
She looked like any other business traveler. Expensive suit, perfect hair, confident posture. The passport said she was Aurora Johnson, corporate lawyer from Boston.
It was all a lie.
"Next!"
The customs officer waved her forward. Aurora stepped up to his booth and handed over her documents. The man was in his forties, with graying hair and tired eyes.
He was also a werewolf.
Aurora could smell it on him the moment she got close. Pack scent. Dominance markers. He belonged to one of the local groups.
The officer scanned her passport and looked at his computer screen.
"Purpose of your visit?"
"Business."
"What kind of business?"
"Legal consultation. Some of the old families here need help with their contracts."
His eyes flicked up to meet hers. For a moment, something passed between them. Recognition. Power calling to power.
Aurora let just a hint of her true nature leak out. Not enough to expose what she really was. Just enough to make him understand that she was not ordinary.
The officer's pupils dilated. His hand holding her passport began to shake slightly.
"I... uh..." He swallowed hard. "How long will you be staying?"
"Two weeks."
He stamped her passport without looking at it again. His movements were mechanical, automatic.
"Welcome to New Orleans, Ms. Johnson."
"Thank you."
Aurora took her documents back. When their fingers touched for just a second, the officer's whole body went rigid. His wolf recognized something in her that made it want to submit.
She walked away without looking back. Behind her, she heard the officer call for a break. His voice was shaky.
Good. Let them know I'm here. Let them all know.
The taxi ride to the Roosevelt Hotel gave Aurora time to study the city she once called home. Ten years had changed a lot. New buildings rose between the old ones. Fresh paint covered walls that used to be cracked and fading.
But underneath it all, the real New Orleans remained the same.
She could feel them as they drove through the French Quarter. Vampires in the shadows of old buildings. Witches walking among the tourists, their magic hidden behind smiles and southern charm. Werewolves working as bouncers and bartenders, keeping the peace with their presence alone.
Three supernatural factions controlled this city. They had for over two hundred years.
The Vampire Houses owned the money. Banks, hotels, restaurants. Anything that required old wealth and patience, they controlled.
The Witch Covens controlled the politics. City council, police force, judges. They made sure human laws bent around supernatural needs.
And the Wolf Packs controlled everything else. The streets, the docks, the underground world that kept the city running after dark.
Marcus Blackwood was the Alpha King of the largest and most powerful pack in Louisiana. Every other pack answered to him. Every supernatural creature in the South knew his name.
Including Aurora.
The taxi stopped in front of the Roosevelt Hotel. Aurora paid the driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The old building rose above her like a monument to southern elegance.
It was also vampire territory.
She could smell their scent on everything. The doorman who opened the glass doors for her. The marble floors of the lobby. Even the flowers in the expensive vases.
Aurora walked to the front desk with confidence she didn't entirely feel. The clerk was human, but he had that glazed look that meant vampires had been feeding from him regularly.
"Checking in. Johnson."
"Of course, Ms. Johnson. Welcome to the Roosevelt." His smile was too bright, too empty. "Your suite is ready. Tenth floor."
"Thank you."
The elevator ride up felt like it took forever. Aurora stared at her reflection in the polished metal doors. Silver hair pulled back in a severe bun. Violet eyes that looked almost human unless you knew what to look for. Pale skin that had never tanned, no matter how much sun it saw.
She looked like her mother.
The thought hit her like a physical blow. Aurora closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Focus. You're here for a reason. Don't let emotions make you weak.
The elevator doors opened on the tenth floor. Aurora found her room and used the keycard to get inside. The suite was elegant and expensive. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city. A king-size bed dominated the main room.
Aurora locked the door behind her and activated every security charm she knew. Then she opened her briefcase.
Inside, nestled between legal documents and business cards, were the real tools of her trade.
A silver knife that had belonged to her grandmother. Witch-blessed bullets for the gun hidden in a false bottom. Vials of holy water mixed with wolfsbane. And at the very bottom, wrapped in black silk, a photograph.
Aurora lifted the photo with trembling fingers. Her parents on their wedding day. Her father tall and proud in his black tuxedo, his dark hair gleaming in the sunlight. Her mother radiant in white lace, her violet eyes sparkling with happiness.
Both dead before Aurora's eleventh birthday.
She set the photograph on the nightstand next to the bed. Then she walked to the window and looked out at the city spread below her.
Somewhere out there, Marcus Blackwood was probably having dinner. Maybe he was with his pack, laughing and telling stories. Maybe he was alone in his office, planning his next business deal.
Did he ever think about that night ten years ago? Did he ever remember the family he had destroyed?
Aurora pressed her palm against the cool glass of the window.
He will. After tomorrow night, he won't be able to think about anything else.
Her phone rang. Unknown number with a local area code.
Aurora hesitated, then answered.
"Aurora Johnson speaking."
"We know who you really are."
The voice was male, smooth, with just a hint of a southern accent. Not Marcus. Someone else.
"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number."
"Aurora Nightshade. Daughter of Elena Ravenwood and James Nightshade. The only survivor of the Silvermoon Pack massacre."
Aurora's blood went cold. Nobody should know those names. She had buried them along with her old life.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, but you do. You've come back for revenge, haven't you? Come back to make Marcus Blackwood pay for what he did to your family."
Aurora said nothing. Her free hand moved to the silver knife in her briefcase.
"The question is, little wolf, are you sure you know the whole truth about that night?"
"What do you mean?"
"Things aren't always what they seem. Enemies can be friends. Friends can be enemies. And sometimes, the person you think killed your family..." The voice paused. "Well, sometimes that person was trying to save them."
The line went dead.
Aurora stared at the phone. Her hands were shaking.
Lies. He's trying to confuse you, make you doubt yourself.
But doubt was already creeping in like poison. What if she was wrong? What if Marcus wasn blackwood wasn't the one who had ordered her family's death?
No. She had seen him that night. Standing in the doorway of her burning home, his golden eyes reflecting the flames. She had heard his voice giving orders to the other wolves.
"Make sure there are no survivors. The Nightshade line ends tonight."
Those words had haunted her dreams for ten years.
Aurora walked to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror. Same violet eyes as her mother. Same stubborn chin as her father.
She was all that was left of two of the most powerful supernatural bloodlines in North America. Her father's family had been werewolf nobility. Her mother's line traced back to vampire royalty.
Their love had been forbidden. A werewolf and a vampire should never have been able to have children together.
But they had. And their daughter was something new. Something that shouldn't exist.
Aurora was a hybrid. Part werewolf, part vampire. And thanks to her grandmother's blood, part witch as well.
Three bloodlines in one body. Three sources of power that most supernatural creatures would kill to possess.
Including Marcus Blackwood.
Aurora dried her face and returned to the main room. Tomorrow night, she would attend the monthly Supernatural Accords Committee meeting. All three faction leaders would be there, along with their advisors and security teams.
It was supposed to be neutral ground. A place where vampires, werewolves, and witches could discuss city business without violence.
Aurora was about to change that.
She opened her laptop and pulled up the files Sarah had sent her. Floor plans of the meeting location. Security protocols. Background information on every person who would be in that room.
And most importantly, everything they knew about Marcus Blackwood.
Aurora studied his photograph. Thirty years old, black hair, golden eyes. Six feet four inches of pure predator. The most powerful werewolf in the South.
In the photo, he looked cold. Dangerous. Like a man who would order the death of an entire family without losing sleep over it.
But for just a moment, Aurora thought she saw something else in those golden eyes. Something that looked almost like sadness.
She shook her head and closed the laptop.
Don't humanize him. He's a killer. Your parents' killer.
Aurora went to the window again and looked out at the blood moon hanging over New Orleans. Storm clouds were gathering around it, turning the red light into something ominous and strange.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. The storm would hit soon.
Aurora smiled for the first time since arriving in the city.
She had always been at her strongest during storms.
Tomorrow night, Marcus Blackwood would see her face across that conference table. He would think she was just another lawyer, another human helping supernatural families with their legal problems.
He would have no idea that he was looking at the daughter of the people he had murdered. No idea that she had spent ten years preparing for this moment.
No idea that she was about to destroy his world the same way he had destroyed hers.
Aurora touched the silver knife in her briefcase one more time. Then she began to prepare for war.
Outside, lightning split the sky above New Orleans. The blood moon disappeared behind storm clouds, but its red light still bled through the darkness like an omen.
The Blood Moon Queen had returned to her city.
And tomorrow night, the reckoning would begin.
Thunder crashed overhead as Aurora Nightshade smiled in the darkness of her hotel room.
Ten years, Marcus. Ten years I've waited for this.
Time to pay your debt.
In blood.