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LENGTH: Full Novel
SENSUALITY: Sensual/Spicy

Cover art (c) Vanessa Hawthorne
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Annalissa de Biassi has been cursed. She has five days until the curse that makes her a wolf at night makes her a wolf forever.

Five days in which she nearly dies, falls in love--and loses her heart to the man sworn to kill all those of her kind to defend humanity.

Rating: Contains adult language, violence, and sexual content.

THE CURSE OF NEFARR

By

Tyler Blackwood

© copyright by July 2007, Tyler Blackwood

Cover Art by Vanessa Hawthorne, © copyright July 2007

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Prologue

Downtown Seattle, Washington State

December, 1999

Damn, it was cold.

Annalissa de Biasi leaned against the brick wall of Matt’s Tavern and shivered. Her jacket was old, tattered, and too thin to keep her warm. The jeans she’d chosen weren’t much better. The hems were frayed, the knees had holes, and they rode so low on her hips, the gap between her jacket and jeans seemed cavernous. The temperature had plummeted after sunset and now, with the breeze rolling off the Puget Sound, it was just plain frigid. Tonight she needed to blend, to look like one of the scraps, the homeless downtown scum that subsisted in the city shadows.

She had a job to do tonight, one that was going to change her life.

Shivering yet again, she zipped her jacket up to her chin. If it weren’t for that fat paycheck waiting for her come morning, no way would she be here now. The job was going to be so easy—too easy to pass up. The pay would put her bank account well over the forty thousand mark, enough to get out of her crappy little studio apartment, go back to school, and leave the life of crime behind.

Enough to leave Richie Marlin far, far behind.

It had been the means to an end and nothing more. Now, finally, after three years of living below the poverty level, that end was here.

Of course, now that she’d been standing here for hours freezing her ass off, waiting for the target to come out of the bar, she was having second thoughts.

It was, after all, Christmas Eve.

Not that she had any plans, or anyone waiting for her at home. Not a cat, a dog, not even a fish. Thieves led simple lives because you never knew when, at a moment’s notice, you’d have to leave the city for good, or be taken away.

Or taken out.

Still, she had no idea when this guy would show up and that bothered her. Any variable like that meant something could go wrong. She couldn’t afford any mistakes, not now.

Tonight was her chance to leave this shitty little life behind. Forever. Sure, she was good at what she did, the best, in fact. Among peers, clients, and most of the other low-lifes in her corner of the city, she commanded respect. All the best jobs went to her, and no one ever got in her face, not even the dealers who worked the same turf.

She had a reputation. They knew her talent for stealth, speed, and cunning. She was clever—considered a frikking genius when she’d been in school, enough to make their lives a living hell if they dared mess with her.

“Way done with that, now,” she said, sliding a glance to the entrance to the bar. Her target was some wealthy guy who always wore an unusual golden cuff. All she had to do was snag it and she was done. Home free. Her employer would take delivery in the morning.

She’d been told the thing was large, about three inches wide and would come off easily, as long as you knew where the tiny release button was.

Problem was, she had only one chance to get it. The band was precious to him, and the moment it was gone, he’d likely sober up and be pissed as hell. Her employer said he was quick and dangerous. Once the job was done, if she were smart, she’d disappear forever.

No problem. She planned to do that anyway.

“Lissa? What are you doing here this time of night?”

“Oh….”She jumped, whirling about to the sound of the voice. “You scared me, Father.”

Word on the street was that Father Ciro Allegra had a thing for young girls, though he’d always behaved well enough with her—which she half thought was an insult. She liked him, despite the rumors and the fact that he always smelled like chemicals, as if he used laundry soap for aftershave. Mostly she liked listening to his Italian accent, very exotic and sensual.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was just on my way home. You looked so deep in thought, I decided to stop to check on you. Is everything all right?”

“Um…Yeah, everything’s fine.” She wiped her grimy palms along the tops of her thighs and wished she was wearing something besides low-rider jeans. The priest would, undoubtedly, disapprove. “I’m waiting for a friend.”

“Oh?” On cue, his dark gaze sharpened as he noticed her attire. The yellow glow from the street light cast shadows against his face, morphing brown eyes into orbs of black coal. “And who might that be?”

She looked away. “You don’t know him.”

“Him? Annalissa, you know better than to be out this late. And meeting a young gentleman? Tsk, Lissa. Really, this is a bad idea. Let me walk you home.” He reached for her shoulder.

“No, Father. He’s expecting me. I’ll be fine, I promise. He’s a good friend, trustworthy, from school.” Ah, the lies just kept coming, didn’t they? She’d dropped out of school after she was taken by CPS from her loser parents. Two weeks after being placed with foster parents, she left for good, three years and one month ago. “It’s not that late, anyway.”

“It’s ten o’clock. You should be getting ready for bed, not sacrificing your virginity to some guy who won’t remember you five years from now.”

Lissa’s eyebrows shot straight up. “Father!”

The priest nodded quickly and held up both hands. “Forgive me. I was out of line.”

“I think I’d feel better if you let me worry about my virginity, Father. I’m not a child anymore.” She crossed her arms over her chest for warmth. Mostly.

“I know you’re not. It’s just that…I worry about you, Lissa,” he said, giving her a thin smile. “You’re a beautiful young woman, with so much life ahead of you. I don’t want to see you make a mistake.”

“I won’t. I’m young, Father, but not stupid.”

“Of course not. I didn’t mean to suggest you were.” His gaze dropped to her arms. “Are you cold?”

“No. I’m fine. Really,” she said. “Just waiting for my friend.”

“I see.” He nodded again, studying her as if he weren’t sure he should believe her. “Well, I really do think it would behoove you to go home, Lissa. Your male friend may have other notions this time of night.”

Obviously, he wasn’t going to let go of this. She mentally shrugged and started for the opposite direction. “Yeah, okay, Father. You’re right. See you later.” Giving an anemic wave, she turned away and worried her target would leave before she could get back to the bar.

“Good night, Annalissa,” he said softly.

God, she hated that formal tone he took with her when he was trying to be the dutiful surrogate parent. Hated it.

“Night,” she snapped.

Pushing the priest firmly from her thoughts, she hurried along Cherry Street, trying to kick loose the tension in her shoulders and reclaim that zone she got in to when she was working a job. She needed that focus to get the job done, suspecting her employer wasn’t kidding when she’d said Mr. Rich-and-Stupid was dangerous. Employers seldom joked about things like that, since they had a vested interest in their hired thieves.

No employer could afford a dead thief, or worse, one who’d been captured. You never knew who would squeal, given the right circumstances.

Lissa stopped after she rounded the corner of Cherry and Fourth. Taking in a deep breath to calm herself, she peered around the brick building.

Watching Father Allegra stroll away from the bar, Lissa wondered if the stories about him were true. He was confident, tall, and seriously good looking. Not what she envisioned as priest material. Maybe the stories about him were true. Maybe he just didn’t like tall, athletic blondes with brains….

Holy shit!

Her target was leaving!

Time stopped.

She had to wait for Allegra to turn the corner before she could do anything. The priest was sweet, but if he caught her near the bar again, she’d be in for a whopper of a lecture. She really didn’t need his crap tonight.

What she did need was for him to pick up the pace. “Come on, Father. Move it.”

If the rich guy got away, she’d be stuck thieving for the next year. Not on her list of things to do.

Come on, come on….

Finally, Allegra leapt from the shadows to follow her drunk-as-a-skunk rich guy. Apparently, he either couldn’t hold his liquor all that well, or he’d relieved the bar of a significant amount of alcohol.

Either way worked for her.

Lissa fell in behind him, snickering as he stumbled, caught himself, then staggered toward a very nice black BMW sedan.

He sprawled across the driver’s seat, one leg inside the car, one leg out. Several seconds passed as he fumbled to get the key into the ignition, and then promptly passed out.

Showtime.

Lissa pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket and popped one of the cancer sticks into her mouth. She wasn’t a smoker but could fake it well enough when the need arose.

She sidled up to the car. “Hey, mister. Got a light?”

No response.

“Mister? ‘Scuse me. Got a light?” She poked his shoulder with her index finger. “Yo, dude. Got a light? Come on, man. Wake up. I need a light.”

Still no response.

Perfect.

With the cigarette still in her mouth, she leaned over the guy and grasped his right hand. The band was snug against his wrist, glistening in the glow of the BMW’s dome light, beautiful, and now it was hers.

She found the secret button her employer had told her would be there and snapped the cuff off easy as pie.

Sheez, if only all her jobs were like this….