Scarlet Huntress (Tales of Grimm Hollow Book 1)

by LeAnn Mason

  “We must be getting close. She won’t be far from Seth.” Hunter had tagged her already, an ear pitched toward the new wolf as she kept pace. Luckily, the animals didn’t have any kind of a telepathic connection—at least, as far as I knew—so no one else would know our whereabouts. But if we kept walking toward Seth, the chance of her getting backup went up. “We should take her out of the equation now. She’s powerful, but her prowess is as a Witch.” Hunter bobbed his head in understanding. She couldn’t use magic in wolf form.

  Hunter gradually fell behind me, so we could watch Diana’s reaction. As I’d hoped, and feared, she kept her focus on me. That bitch hated me something fierce. We could use that, let it cloud her decisions to catch her unaware. “Diana, funny to find you out here. Is your master close? Is that why you’re pacing me instead of attacking? You’re losing your killer edge, old woman.”

  The bronze wolf snarled, losing her composure and lunging my direction only to come to a yelping crash at the base of a tree as Hunter leapt onto her, teeth sinking into the back of her neck. I sighted my arrow, but as the two wolves tangled and writhed, I feared any shot I took wouldn’t be tight enough to hit the right target. I couldn’t take that chance. I kept my aim true just in case an opening presented itself, but until then, I was just a bystander. And it killed me.

  Diana was substantially smaller than Hunter, but she made up for it with dexterity and craftiness. Somehow, no matter where Hunter aimed, Diana would shake herself loose and come up swinging somewhere soft on my mentor’s body. He was bloodier than I wanted to believe. I’d need to do something to turn the tide… but I had no shot. I felt helpless.

  A whimper left my lips, my skin itching. Ebony! She was my answer, my savior. I let her push forward, ready for the lava to ignite my veins and my bones to break, ready for the wolf to have her skin so that she could defend what was hers.

  Wait, what?

  My attention pulled from my questioning thoughts by thuds heavy enough to shake the ground with each galloping stride. Loud snaps and crunches indicated there were no attempts to maneuver around sticks, branches, and various foliage. Whatever was coming wasn’t worried about stealth. That only made it scarier. I lifted my nose, pulling in a deep breath, hoping to identify something about the incoming nightmare.

  Friend or foe? I moved my bow to aim in the direction of the fast-moving unknown, the scent registering just as I caught sight of the most massive beast I had ever seen in my life. With the only light being what filtered from the moon through the fall-bare trees, I couldn't make out much more than a general impression.

  The deafening roar it bellowed, coupled with the sheer mass of long mane, had me releasing my pent-up breath. My aching shoulders and shaking fingers relaxed as I lowered my bow.

  Ryan.

  The king of the Shifters burst for the tangled pair of wolves, front paws spread wide enough to wrap around a horse's belly and still meet in the middle. His huge maw gaped, showing a set of ridiculously large teeth bared and ready to sink deeply into flesh, to separate meat from bone, or just crush bones and be done with it all.

  In a move obviously practiced in Sentinel training camp or something, Hunter scooted away from Diana's wolf when it flinched, scuttling sideways at the lion's battle cry. In the next instant, Ryan had the small, dusky wolf engulfed. Giant paws wrapped around the witchy-wolf in a macabre emulation of a hug, those six-inch teeth sinking through flesh and crushing bone with the clenching of his jaw.

  “Ho-ly crap,” I whisper-shrieked, the reality of the king's power sinking in with shocking finality. That wolf had been nothing, no match whatsoever for the massive beast. I couldn't help but think that a Warlock wouldn't stand a chance, either, let alone little ol’ me. There was just… so… much… power.

  The tawny wolf lay in a broken heap in the dirt between Hunter and the king. I couldn't think of him any other way at the moment, and I wasn't sure he'd be just Ryan ever again. Those gigantic whiskey eyes met mine for the briefest moment before I shot my gaze to the forest floor in obedient submission. I did not want to piss off the alpha moments after he'd literally crushed a foe.

  With a quick huff that sounded remarkably like a grunt, the giant beast stormed off, leaping into a run back in the direction he'd come from, toward the clearing. There was no way that Seth hadn't heard that roar. It was probably heard all the way back in Grimm Hollow. Surprise wasn't on our side now—if it ever had been—and we'd need to take every precaution as we moved forward.

  I was more than sure that Seth would have something nasty waiting for our arrival. Dread coiled around my stomach, souring it more than the wafting scent of blood and guts that clung to my body from the night's activities. I knew something awful would happen, my body betraying my need for strength as it began to tremble and shake. Whether from fatigue or shock, I wasn't sure.

  Picking my way toward where I believed he would be, I was sure of only two things. One, I needed to keep going, and two, Seth needed to die.

  CHAPTER 30

  “W elcome to my neck of the woods, friends. So good of you to accept my invitation. Please, come on in!” The voice of my long-term-captor-slash-sperm-donor projected with flourish, echoing off the trees as if from a loudspeaker at a football game.

  Magic.

  Seth’s voice sent chills up my spine. I did my best to shake off the remembered terror his presence evoked. Ebony lent her strength, sending warm fuzzies and confidence my way. Hunter mimicked the attempt by pressing his warm, furry body to my side in a silent reassurance of his protection. I absently wound my fingers into the rough of his neck, clenching them into a fist, entwining with the coarse hair, my own assurance before I put on my big girl panties and again readied my bow. My wounded arm really started to protest use, but I gritted my teeth, fearing I’d chip one with the force of my restraint, and powered through the pain. At least, for now. Soon, my body would betray me, and my arm would fail. It probably wouldn’t be the only appendage to do so.

  I wanted to start my attempts at “subduing” Seth from as far away from him as I could physically get without losing effectiveness. It probably wouldn’t work, but I was going to try my damnedest.

  Finally, the trees thinned ahead of me. I kept my arrow trained toward the clearing, knowing that’s where Seth would be, where the battle would truly begin. Pushing forward the last few feet, I was still concealed within the trees but had no impediments before me. I could see what lay before us, and I froze, a warbling cry tearing from my throat in anguished surprise.

  “Ah, daughter, is that you? I’m so glad you’ve come. What do you think of my surprise?” The slimy bastard gloated from his spot within the ceremonial clearing. The very spot where I'd claimed the life of his son—my brother—in order to keep my own.

  It had been three weeks since I'd fled this spot with blood-stained hands. Three weeks since my life had turned right-side-up after so long being upside down. The moon nearly full again, shone in all her glory down upon this god-forsaken ceremonial site like a spotlight, a perfect top-off for Seth's looming show of superiority. He took center stage.

  The man was nothing special by sight alone. He was remarkably… unremarkable. Thinner build, not too tall, not too short, gray eyes, and a charming smile made up Seth's carefully crafted façade. But it was all a lie, a mask he wore to confuse and ease the sheep.

  Something niggled at me, pushing to be heard, but it was lost behind the fear screaming in the forefront of my mind. I couldn't tear my eyes from the clearing, from the figure that knelt, bound and gagged, next to the psychotic coven leader. From where his hand lay atop a messy nest of chocolate-brown hair, the fishtail braid nearly undone. Tears streamed from wide hazel eyes, magnified by black-rimmed glasses.

  "I brought a friend of yours. The only one, I believe. Thought you might be missing her, so I invited her to our little reunion," Seth chittered, malice dripping from the words like acid. Each one burned through my makeshift shields, leaving a gaping, festering wound th
at expanded in my chest with each passing moment I looked at Mae cowering in the dirt at my father's feet.

  My bow lowered as I lost the battle to stay focused. I couldn’t keep my eyes from Mae, from the blood trickling through her newly split lip, the darkening bruise covering a cheekbone, her ripped shirt and dirt-streaked pants. She’d fought but had been taken anyway. That happened when Seth wanted something. People got hurt.

  No more.

  The conviction bolstered my energy, my bow rising to again train on Seth’s lean body. Ebony lent me her sharp eyes for me to really look at the show we were being fed. That niggling feeling reared up again, and I searched for what wasn’t right. There was something off about Mae. Her eyes… they were just a little too big behind those dark glasses. Her ears stuck out a bit farther than I remembered. Her teeth? No, it wasn’t Mae.

  The aura confirmed it.

  Fake Mae’s was gray, on its way to black like the rest of the Lupo Coven. “An illusion,” I breathed. The puzzle pieces fit together with a snap. My eyes cinched to Seth, going over the features of the Warlock like I had faux-Mae, wondering if my hunch about Seth’s sick sense of theater was correct.

  He didn’t move. At all. No shifting of weight, no wandering steps circling his offering. No sweeping hand gestures… nothing. Not the Seth I knew. “That’s not Seth, either,” I mumbled. The aura finally caught my attention, a thin halo of pretty blue encircled Faux-Daddy. The edges flared a bright lemon—the color of fear—the longer I watched. Holy evil witchy-wolves!

  That was Mae.

  “I understand now.” No sooner had I muttered the words than a giant blur burst from the far side of the clearing. Straight at Seth-Mae. That’s exactly what Seth wanted, why she was bound and under a magic spell of illusion: to make her look like the bad guy. “No!” I screamed, loosing the arrow that I had nocked in my bow, an arrow that wasn’t meant for a member of my own team, or at least, it hadn’t been. The arrow embedded deep into the shoulder of the massive golden lion that wrapped my best friend in that deadly hug, teeth latching on to her shoulder with frightening voracity. The pair fell to the earth, Mae not moving a muscle, not making a sound.

  Can’t he tell it’s not right?

  Rushing from the trees, I readied another arrow. “Ryan, no! That’s not Seth. It’s an illusion. That is the hostage!” I pleaded, skidding to a stop as close to the king and his prey as I dared. Hunter plastered to my side before taking two cautious steps toward his alpha. Any closer and my arrow wouldn’t be effective. The knife would be my last resort should I need it.

  If the king didn’t back off his kill… If Hunter failed…

  Swiftly, the Mae impersonator jerked free of its bonds, unfurling to burst toward the wounded lion, looking to take advantage of our distraction. “Mors!” the Witch cried, thrusting a palm at the gigantic beast who now stood like the Sentinel he was over my downed friend. A swath of inky black magic burst forth from the Witch’s palm, jetting at breakneck speed toward the king of the Shifters of Grimm Hollow. Changing my target only took a moment, but that moment already too late to stop the spell.

  My arrow and the death magic hit their targets at the same time, each causing a body to jolt violently with the impact. Hunter was right behind my arrow, teeth sinking violently into the still-outstretched arm of the Witch, shaking the prize violently before moving to change his aim to the throat. My eyes bounced between where Mae lay in her Seth-suit, the crumpled heap of lion king, and the tangle of Witch and Shifter. “Hunter! He’s gone. Protect Ryan!” Where was Nick? I hadn’t thought about his absence when Ryan had killed Diana, but the lack of imposing bear-man like a gaping wound right now. We really could have used another intelligent animal right about then.

  “Oh, daughter of mine, why would you tell him to guard the beast? He was hit with a mortem spell,” came an oily voice, one I knew too well. The illusions dropped with Seth’s words, now showing my friend next to the downed king, each unmoving. He must have had her wrapped up in a number of spells to keep her silent and immobile, all while keeping her identity hidden under the illusion.

  “That was fun! Did it turn out the way you thought?” Seth’s voice reached for me again, trying to turn back the clock, to keep me that scared seven-year-old girl. I didn’t see anyone but my own scrambling crew. Jason was back in human form as he checked over Mae, and Nick still absent. Ryan lay still, a heaping mass of golden fur. No other backup seemed to be present.

  “Are you ready to come home? You’ve taken out most of my coven… including my son. Your brother.” Seth paused his musings, pitching the clearing into dramatic silence. Still playing theater. I rolled my eyes as I shot forward, wanting to do my own welfare check. Mae’s shoulder was bloodied, several puncture wounds where Ryan’s teeth had embedded.

  “Don’t lose it now, Al. These people need you,” I muttered as I checked for a pulse. Faint but present. Good. I could focus on putting down the threat. “The game is up. Why don’t you come on out now, Father,” I growled from my position crouched over Mae’s prone and unconscious body.

  “I never thought you’d live to know the truth,” the voice mused thoughtfully. “Perhaps you are stronger than I gave you credit for. It seems we will find out.”

  “What are you yammering about? Come out here, and I'll show you just how wrong you were about me.” I stood swiftly and readied my weapon again. Slowly, I checked our surroundings for the malevolent owner of the floating voice. The forest was loud with night sounds. The cicadas' song swelled, making pinpointing other sounds difficult. Outside of the clearing, the moonlight didn’t penetrate the trees. The lack of light hindering my human eyes significantly lessened with Ebony’s enhanced vision, making the darkness less of an obstacle.

  Thanks, Ebony. I needed all the help she could give me. We were well and truly in the jaws of death, the looming threat of a painful death spurring a mild panic attack deep in my belly. I didn’t see any man-shaped shadows in the immediate area, but he needed to be able to see what went on here. He wouldn’t remove himself. It was part of the game.

  Jason sidled up to my side, scanning our surroundings as much as I had. Hunter there with him, superimposed over the human, both man and wolf itching to retaliate. “I don’t see him. Maybe he’s cloaking himself. Can he do that?”

  I thought about it. “Honestly… I have no idea.” And it killed me. I was supposed to have the answers, be the hammer that ended this threat. At least, that was the grand idea I’d had in my head.

  Think, Al.

  Goad him. Attack his ego. Make him prove himself. I couldn’t fight what I couldn’t see… or could I? I pulled up my bow from where it had been held limply at my side, something I hadn’t realized I’d done, and pulled an arrow from my quiver. “These are spelled, right? It should find a target. Can you shift and lead me to him if he’s bleeding?” Hopefully the spell would work like it had on the other dark Witches…

  I drew back, sighting down the shaft. Aiming about ninety degrees to my left, I let the arrow fly. “Malignus!” I didn’t know exactly why I pointed that direction other than I didn’t want to point near the dead Witch in case death didn’t matter. I wanted the spell to latch on to the right “evil.”

  The arrow, with its glowing tip, flew from my bow with a whistle before taking a hard right so that it was in front of us. Then, it disappeared further into the trees, back the way we'd come from.

  Jason disappeared in a shower of pixie dust and yipped as he sprinted after the bolt. I lurched after him, adrenaline again pumping through my veins and fueling my limbs into motion. He was too fast. My human limbs couldn't keep up on a good day, which this was not. I had fatigue and injury to compete with. My feet were catching on every exposed root or branch I contacted, my entrail-encrusted cape snagging on hidden thorns.

  “That wasn’t nice.” Warm breath brushed across my ear with the whispered words, making my skin crawl. I spun, drawing the knife from my thigh and swiped the blade in an arc with my turn. A pa
ined hiss met my ears as resistance slowed my blade.

  I’d hit him. I didn’t know how badly or where, but I’d drawn blood. I smelled it. So had Hunter who leapt from the darkness onto a spot of nothingness before me. But without a visual reference, he was thrown away and forced to snap wildly, looking for flesh.

  “Come on, Dad,” I sneered, the name like a slur. “Show yourself.”

  “But why would I do that when this is so much fun? It’s a better show of your abilities… and mine. It will help me decide if I am to kill you or keep you,” the ethereal voice cooed softly, disarmingly, only the barest hint of pain lacing his voice.

  “You know that I killed your son. Your protégé. Your heir… with a stick, right?” I taunted, coiling to crouch in a defensive position, waiting. It was hard to go on the offensive with an invisible foe. I needed him to show himself. I sheathed the dagger in favor of the bow again. I knew I was too close for good fleetness, but that wasn’t my goal. “You know that my arrows are spelled, right? At this range, I won’t miss. Unless you want another hole, show yourself.”

  “I don’t—.”

  “Malignus,” I whispered, letting another arrow fly. The head glowed as it veered a jagged path several feet in front of me, moving to get in line with its target.

  “Contego!” The arrow stopped mid-air where it was plucked from its position with a throaty chuckle. “Oh, daughter.” He tsked. “The bind I did on your magic assures you will not be able to defeat me. Not that you could with your magic. Come with me, and I will remove the spell and allow your potential to present itself. You are my heir, aft—”

  But I was there, blade out and slashing as I launched into the spot where the arrow had stalled. I pushed off, cutting a diagonal line from eye to hip in the space before me, praying I’d calculated correctly.