Windwalker The Prophecy Series Online

Chapter One

New Orleans, Louisiana: The witching hour

The gang zeroed in on the lone woman like the curs they were and the moment Layla Birdsong saw their faces, she knew was in trouble. There were nine of them, three blacks, four whites, and a couple of Asians - an odd amalgamation of affirmative action losers armed to the teeth.

She was never going to see home again.

The skinny white man with the pock-marked face rubbed his fly.

“Come to Papa,” he jeered.

“Back off, Rabbit, I get her first.”

Layla’s gaze jerked to a skin-head wannabe with a swastika tattooed on his neck. Where in hell were the cops when you needed them?

Thunder rumbled overhead as the storm that had been approaching drew closer.

“Hell to the no, Fuck-face, you went first on the last one,” another man shouted.

Layla tried to dodge the black man but it was to no avail as he grabbed her breast, squeezing it so hard she screamed. Then he shoved her backward, laughing as Fuck-face swung a knife. He crowed as it cut through the fabric of her blouse into the smooth brown skin on her belly. As she turned away, he danced around her and swung again, this time slashing the back of her arm from shoulder to elbow.

Layla screamed. “Nooo… oh God… stop! Someone! Anyone! Help! Help!”

“That’s how I like ‘em, screaming and bleeding,” he said in a sing-song voice, and moved a step closer.

Layla’s belly and arm were burning where the flesh had been cut. When she swept her hand across the point of pain and it came away covered in blood, panic shifted into rage. She didn’t have a weapon and didn’t stand a chance, but she came from a long line of warriors. If this was the day she died, they would have to take her in a fight.

She shifted her stance, looked down at the blood on her hand and in a moment of defiance, swept two fingers across each cheek, leaving behind two swaths of blood as war paint.

Now she was ready. All she needed was a weapon and launched herself at the one with the knife.

The impact took him by surprise as they went down in a tangle of arms and legs. The others whooped with delight as Fuck-face’s head bounced off the pavement. All of a sudden he was seeing double and on the defensive.

Pulled by bloodlust, the gang drew closer, shouting out encouragement to their man while telling the woman in every vulgar term they’d ever heard what they would do with her before she took her last breath.

Layla heard nothing but the grunts and curses of the man beneath her as she battled for control of the knife. She had hold of his wrist with both hands, using every ounce of her strength to turn it downward, until the knife was only inches away from his face.

In a panic, he began cursing and yelling at his friends, ‘Help me, damn it, help me. The bitch is going to put out my eye.”

She had his wrist in a bind, pushing it continually downward in an abnormal position, and no matter how hard he hit her with his other fist, she didn’t give.

Her eye was swelling and the cut he’d opened on her cheekbone was bleeding. A rumble of thunder rolled across the rooftops as she lunged, and when she did, her blood dripped into his eyes, momentarily blinding him.

It was his loss of focus that gave her the edge. She threw all her weight onto his wrist and heard the bone snap as the blade plunged downward into his neck.

Fuck-face’s eyes bulged, then rolled back in his head. His body was still jerking in death throes when she crawled to her feet; the bloody knife in her hand. She was bleeding profusely, but there was a rage in her eyes.

“Who’s next?” she shouted.

Thunder struck before she got an answer. A blinding flash of lightning hit the street behind them. A gust of wind exploded within their midst then rapidly turned into a whirlwind, spinning violently as it grew larger before their eyes. The force of the wind pinned Layla up against the wall. The knife dropped at her feet.

One gang member flew backward, slamming into the light post and snapping his neck like a toothpick. Another went airborne a good thirty feet up before he came down. The sound of his body hitting pavement was lost within the roar of the wind. Another man’s clothes were ripped away. He was screaming in