This is an excerpt from the novel, "Werelove: Dusk Conspiracy," © Lakisha Spletzer 2010.

This work may not be reproduced without the author's permission.

 Laylah sat on the bench at the pick-up spot and brooded. Next to her, Britta remained quiet, giving

her space to think.

“I should have laid there,” Laylah blurted out, her hand going to her braid. She tugged it hard and

chewed on her bottom lip. She could see her hope of going to the party vanishing rapidly. She knew

what her father would list as reasons for her not attending.

Father would cite public smearing of the family name and her failure to mind her own business.

Even though Violet started the fight, he wouldn’t care or see it that way. And the biggest excuse would

be that Laylah had interrupted Father's day and probably one of his precious experiments.

Laylah jumped when Britta touched her. She was surprised to feel tears on her cheeks again. When

had she started crying? She was such a wimp!

“Hey now, chica, chin up. No tears, you hear me? No matter what your father says, I’m proud of

you. And Donil will be too, when he hears about it.”

Laylah gave a small laugh. “That’s right, he will, won’t he? He believes in me, like you do Britta.”

She hugged her friend, afraid to let go. Deep in her heart, fear rested. Unsure why, Laylah chose to

ignore it.

“Look, it’s Jacques!” Britta stood and pointed toward the road as the limo came into view.

Laylah rose. She watched Jacques stop the limo and get out. She gave a glad cry and ran to him

wanting comfort.

“No!” He stopped her before she could hug him. “You are in trouble, young lady. Your father is

home and not pleased with the call from the academy.”

“Jacques, I can explain!”

“No more excuses! Get in the car before I toss you in.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Laylah hissed and edged closer to Britta, who had hurried over holding

Laylah’s backpack in her right hand.

“Mr. Lyser, the other girls jumped her. It’s not Laylah’s fault!”
 “I noticed.” Pointedly he stared at Laylah’s bruised face. “Now…get…in!”

Laylah gulped and dropped her gaze at Jacques’ annoyed expression. “I’m so screwed,” she

whispered.

“Laylah, get in the car now!” Jacques snarled.

Not wishing to test Jacques' patience any farther, Laylah grabbed her backpack from Britta’s hand,

gave her friend a hopeless look and climbed inside. She winced when Jacques slammed the door. He

got in the driver’s seat and Laylah turned to look at Britta through the window. Her friend’s concern

almost made her cry, but bravely Laylah waved as the limo pulled away.

The ride home felt like an eternity, and all too soon they pulled into the mansion’s driveway. When

Jacques opened her door, Laylah hesitantly stepped out and touched his hand. “Jacques?”

He jerked his hand away and snapped, “Get in the house, Laylah!”

Hurt by his brush-off, she ran up the steps and inside. Laylah came to an abrupt stop at the sight of

her father in the middle of the foyer. His gaze was cold, and that cruel grin always meant harsh

punishments. She heartily wished she’d never hit Violet.

“Laylah, so glad you could come home to see me," her father drawled.

She shivered at the menace in Father's tone. She started to respond, but decided against it when she

saw her father’s associates Kenneth, Bryon, Boris, and Michael walking into the room. Naiya emerged

from the kitchen with a grim look.

Laylah was baffled and she froze, too scared to move. She felt trapped and the feeling increased

when Jacques came and stood a foot behind her. She almost started hyperventilating. This was the way

she’d felt when the Weres chased her two months ago. She didn’t like it then and she didn’t like it now.

“You know, Laylah, many people would kill to be you. Nice home, staff that cater to your needs

and a rich parent to give you all the money you could want. Most people would be grateful. But not

you, Laylah. You seem to delight in destroying this precious life.”

“Father, that’s not true! I do appreciate it all!”

 “Hmm, you have a funny way of showing it. I have very few rules that I expect to be obeyed. I do it

out of concern for your well-being. And what do you do? You throw it back in my face by disobeying

me.”

“Father! I....” Laylah stammered and fell silent at his glare.

“You will be quiet, Daughter! I want you here, front and center!”

Reluctantly she moved to the spot he pointed to, which put Laylah an arm’s length away from him.

“Let’s review your latest lapses in judgment starting with Donil Silentshadow.”

Laylah focused on her father, confused by the rage behind his calmly spoken words. “Father?”

“Quiet!” Jacques growled.

Father continued, ignoring her attempt to interrupt. “You were told to stay away from that boy for a

reason. Yet what do I find? You, hanging out with him in public for the whole world to see!”

“Father, that’s not what happened! Please, let me explain.”

“No! No explanations. All you do is lie to escape punishment. And you will be punished. I do not,

and will not, tolerate defiance, Laylah!”

“You don’t tolerate anything,” she mumbled.

Henry’s eyes narrowed. “What did you just say?” He stepped closer.

Fear hit her as she realized her mistake. “I didn’t say anything!”

“See, my daughter, you’re lying right now. Another mark against you. You are forbidden from

speaking with Donil and that is final.”

“But!”

“Furthermore, if you defy me on this matter, you will experience firsthand what a beating is. I have

been lenient with you for far too long. That ends now.. About your fight at lunch today. I’m extremely

disappointed that you did not win. Really, Laylah, your Le Croix blood must be rather thin if you can’t

stop one girl from hitting you.” Her father shot her a look of disgust.

Laylah stiffened, her green eyes wide as she stared at him.

 “Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Daughter?”

“What does it matter? You don’t care, Father! You’ve already tried and convicted me. You shouldn’t

have even bothered coming here. Do what you always do, and ground me! I have homework to finish.”

Naiya gasped, Jacques appeared stunned and the other men growled disapprovingly. Laylah was

shocked too at her boldness, but didn’t get to contemplate her loss of control. Her father’s hand lashed

out and backhanded her. She yelped, stumbled and would have run, but Father snagged her arm and

jerked hard. She was forced forward as Father pulled her to him. His left hand grabbed her chin in a

bruising grip and he made her look up.

“You dare to sass me?”

Sheer terror kept her from replying. The rage in Father's eyes convinced Laylah that he might hurt

her. She lowered her gaze.

“I asked you a question, Daughter.”

Father squeezed and the pain made her whimper. “You’re hurting me!”

“Answer the question!”

“Sir, I did not mean...I’m sorry for back talking! Please let me go! You’re hurting me!” Laylah cried

softly, but the pressure from her father’s fingers only increased until it felt like her jaw would break!

“Henry, sir, she’s sorry for her behavior. You need to release her.” Jacques put a hand on her father's

shoulder.

Father slowly let go and stepped back. “Go to your room and stay out of my sight. You’re grounded

and that includes no comm calls either!”

Laylah knew when she was defeated. “Yes, Father,” she meekly replied. Tugging on her braid, she

spun around and ran upstairs to her bedroom.