When Tables Turn Book 2: A New Age
highlight_author
Ivana Vanessa Jameson
highlight_reads
77.3K
highlight_chapters
42
Chapter 1
LUCY
“Lucy, you’re doing it wrong!” Amara’s hand came down hard on my arm. I winced, gripping my bow tighter. Amara was a good friend, but her teaching style could be a bit harsh.
“Ease up on your shoulders. Focus on your target. Don’t be so stiff. Just relax and let it fly.”
I did as she instructed. I took a deep breath and let my arrow fly. It hit the rabbit’s head that Amara had nailed to the tree for target practice. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Yes!” I cheered, and Amara shook her head at me, a smile on her face.
I’d met Amara six months ago, after I’d been banished from Alexander’s land. With nowhere else to go, I’d taken shelter in an old, abandoned truck. I was on the brink of death when Amara found me, starving and dehydrated, barely conscious in the back of the truck.
She saved my life by bringing me to her group. They called themselves “the Travelers” because they never stayed in one place for too long.
Now, I was one of them. There were ten of us in total, and I’d grown to love them all. They were my new family.
I tried not to dwell on the past. The constant moving was good for me. It meant I was always getting further away from “him.”
Amara ran a hand through her shoulder-length, dirty-brown hair. “Don’t get too cocky,” she warned. “It takes at least four perfect shots to take down a wolf.”
“Please, I’ve got this,” I said, letting another arrow fly. It hit the rabbit head again. I smirked at Amara, who rolled her eyes.
“Hey, ladies!” Trevor called out, walking towards us with John at his side.
I watched them approach, a smile on my face. Trevor was a tall, twenty-six-year-old, and his younger brother, John, was twenty-three. They looked nothing alike.
Trevor had hair so blond it was almost white, with bright blue eyes and pale skin. The kids in our group liked to tease him, calling him a vampire.
John was the complete opposite, with curly black hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin. He was a bit shorter than Trevor, but they were both lean.
The one thing they did have in common was their sense of humor.
“Are you here to join us for the hunt?” Amara asked, grinning.
John scratched his nose. “Uh, yeah! How’s it going, Night Angel?” he asked me, smirking.
“I’m doing well. I’ve got a great teacher,” I said, nudging Amara, who grinned back at me.
I’d earned the nickname “Night Angel” because I was good at hunting in the dark. The animals never saw me coming.
Trevor liked to say it was because my jet-black hair helped me blend into the night, but I disagreed—I was just good at hunting, period.
“You heard her. I’m the best,” Amara said, stretching her arms.
Hakim, who’d appeared behind me, scoffed. “Are we going to hunt, or are we going to spend all day talking about who’s better at what?”
“Ah, Hakim, always the responsible one, the sensible one,” Trevor teased.
Hakim didn’t bother hiding his annoyance. I smiled. He was like our group’s mother hen. Despite being only eighteen, he acted like he had to carry all the responsibility.
Hakim was a cute kid. He had blond curls—some of them braided—pulled back into a small ponytail. He was tall and slightly muscular. His eyes were a striking silver-gray.
“Let’s get going before our kids starve,” I said, starting to walk forward with Amara at my side.
She nudged me playfully. “You mean our kids!”
I grinned, and we took off, hiding behind every tree or bush we could find. But we knew better than to let the werewolves catch us.
We were on the outskirts of what used to be England. Alexander’s men wouldn’t be here, but there were other dangers. Every wolf was different. But in the end, they were all animals, and animals kill.
In the past six months, I’d learned a lot. I’d learned that there were rogue wolves who acted like rabid dogs, wild and murderous. There was no point in hesitating to kill those wolves.
“Get down. We’ve got one,” Hakim whispered, gripping my shoulder.
I dropped to the ground, lying flat on my stomach. Amara did the same, and we crawled behind a small bush. Trevor and John were well hidden behind a large tree.
“What is it?” I whispered.
Amara peeked out for a second before turning back to me, a grin on her face. “It’s a kudu, a big one.”
John held up four fingers, his eyes sparkling with excitement. My eyes widened. “That can’t be real!”
“It seems too good to be true, especially around here,” Hakim whispered, signaling to the brothers to hold their positions.
Trevor’s eyes widened, and he mouthed, “Are you crazy?” He pointed at his bow and arrow, then at the kudus. He wanted to hunt.
Trevor knew that the meat from the kudu could feed us for months. He was right, but something about this felt “too good” to be true. Hakim shook his head, but Trevor was already crawling towards the animals.
“There’s something else here,” Hakim said. I gripped my bow and arrow tighter, ready to use them at any moment.
“What the fuck is that!” Amara exclaimed, a little too loudly. John rushed after his brother.
I took a quick look through the shrubbery and instantly regretted it. A massive, gooey creature, about the size of a baby elephant, lunged out of nowhere, aiming for one of the Kudus.
The beast was unlike anything I’d ever laid eyes on, equipped with teeth sharp enough to rip through the toughest hide. It moved on all fours, its skin a sickly blend of cream and butter, marred with angry, red veins.
“Shit!” Hakim blurted out, lining up his arrow with the bizarre predator. As if sensing the impending attack, the creature’s large, bald head whipped around to face us, letting out a piercing screech. It was fast, almost as fast as the werewolves.
I watched in terror as it lunged at John, who had stepped out to alert his brother. Without a second thought, I let my arrow fly, piercing its heart and bringing the beast down instantly.
“John!” Trevor cried out, rushing to his brother’s side. John was sprawled on his back, gasping for breath, his eyes wide with shock.
We all hurried over. “Are you okay?” Amara asked, scanning him for injuries.
“My fucking leg!” he groaned. To our horror, we discovered his leg had been torn off.
“Fuck!” Amara cursed. “There are more of them. Oh my God!” The air was suddenly filled with the harsh, angry cries of more beasts emerging from the distance.
“Run! Leave me here,” John urged through gritted teeth.
I shook my head as we hoisted him up by the shoulders, while Amara quickly tied her t-shirt around his leg to stem the bleeding. “We leave no man behind.”
