Crimson Daggers- The Complete Trilogy

by Emma Savant

  “I don’t know,” Alec said, his voice still so low that I had to strain to hear it over the rustling of the trees. “I just hung out with one of them a few years ago. I’m not, like, a pack expert.”

  “Why not?” I snapped, then blew out a long sigh. “Sorry, no reason you should be. It would just make my life a lot easier.”

  “And it’s all about your life,” he said under his breath.

  I ignored him and took off through the trees, stepping lightly until we were back under the pines. My bike was still there, untouched, and we climbed on it in silence.

  “I’ll take you back to your campsite,” I said.

  The ride was quiet, the silence broken only by the hum of the engine and the crashing of the underbrush beneath us.

  “You’re really tearing up the forest floor,” Alec said at one point.

  I skidded around a tree far too quickly for comfort, and he stopped talking.

  He guided me back to his campsite. He seemed to have a good sense of direction, or at least it was better than mine.

  “You camp out here a lot?” I said as we rolled up next to his tent.

  “I prefer being alone in nature.” He emphasized the word alone, just enough to let me know I’d crashed his party. He slid off the bike and turned his flashlight back on. “Thanks for the ride. I think.”

  “Thanks for your help,” I said. “I know it’s probably not how you wanted to spend your evening.”

  “It’s three in the morning.”

  “Night. Morning. Whatever. Thanks.”

  “Sure. I hope you find your grandma.” He shifted from one foot to the other. A cool breeze cut through the clearing, and he crossed his arms to shield himself against it. I realized I should have offered him my jacket, not that it would have fit. “Why’d they take her, anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, which was partly true. “Probably just wanting to add someone important to their pack.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  He glanced back at his tent, and I got the hint. I pressed my knees into the bike.

  “Hey, don’t go back there,” he said. “You should talk to law enforcement or something, see if they can help.”

  “This is the kind of stuff they outsource to specialists,” I said. “Don’t mention it to anyone, please. I don’t want the whole world gossiping about Carnelian not being ready for the show.”

  He frowned a little. “Seems like the show would be the least of your worries.”

  He seemed genuinely concerned, and fear for Grandma fluttered in my chest.

  “Well, it’s not,” I said. “It wouldn’t be Grandma’s, so it’s not mine. And it shouldn’t be yours, either. When is the first clasp going to be done?”

  “Early next week,” he said, a defensive edge to his voice.

  I revved my engine. “Okay. Well, good. I’ll talk to you then.”

  I sped off into the night, back in the direction of the den.

  18

  I got lost almost immediately and stopped the bike to check in with the scarf. It blew clearly toward one direction, so I stowed it back in my pocket. Before I could head out, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

  I pulled it out.

  Brendan: Everything okay?

  I shouldn’t have been surprised to get service. We were technically in the middle of a city. Still, it felt remote enough out here that seeing the words on my bright screen surprised me.

  Scarlett: What are you doing up?

  Brendan: Worried about you. Didn’t respond earlier.

  He hadn’t seemed like the kind of guy to worry about me. It was nice to be thought of.

  Scarlett: I’m fine. Thanks, though.

  Brendan: You’re still up, too. Maybe it’s a sign. Want to come meet me on the roof of a parking garage and try to catch some stars?

  A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

  Scarlett: Can’t see stars downtown. Not ones worth seeing.

  Brendan: Fine, where do you want to meet?

  I looked around. The forest still whispered around me, but it didn’t seem quite as foreboding as it had earlier tonight.

  Scarlett: Can’t tonight. Catch you in a few days?

  He texted back a thumbs-up, and I put the phone back in my pocket.

  Off in the distance, a shimmering pair of headlights winked through the trees. I must have gotten turned around and ended up back near the road.

  I waited until the lights had passed, then headed toward the road they’d been on. I’d have a little more moonlight there; maybe I’d misread the scarf’s direction in the darkness.

  The light flickered back on as I got closer. They weren’t headlights; there was something much stranger out here. I stopped the bike and climbed off, my dagger out and my shoulders tense. Every sound seemed amplified, and my heart pounded with fear and curiosity.

  And then I stopped and stared.

  It was a flower. A white, glowing flower growing on the side of a tree like a beautiful parasite. I stepped closer and caught the faint, silvery sound of distant bells.

  I’d never seen anything like this, in Portland’s forests or anywhere else. It was strange and stunning and very clearly Glim. Cautiously, I reached for my phone to take a picture, but the light winked out the moment I removed the device from my pocket.

  Off in the distance, another flower flickered to life. They were like fireflies, glowing off and on in a beautiful pattern. There were more farther on, some white and some a soft gold. Dazzled, I followed their trail of light as they winked through the trees.

  By the time I realized how lost I was, it was too late. I turned around, trying to see my bike or the path I’d made when I’d crashed across the forest floor, but there was nothing but blackness broken by the occasional shimmering flower.

  I swore and pulled the scarf out. It hung limply in my hand, and I shook it.

  Nothing.

  I repeated the incantation I’d used on it earlier, but the charm had worn off. It was the middle of the night, and I was lost in a forest populated by hostile werewolves and glowing flowers that, I realized, as the hair prickled down my arms and up my neck, were probably placed here specifically to lead people away from the den.

  Alec had known how to avoid them. That must have been why we’d taken such a winding path through the woods.

  But I was stupid, and hadn’t known how to dodge anything, and I was going to get eaten. Or turned. Or maybe they’d just leave me here to wander until I starved to death.

  I shook out my shoulders and clutched the dagger firmly in my grasp. I wasn’t going to die out here. I was a witch, and I was a Dagger, and I was not going to be intimidated by a bunch of flowers.

  Past the dim light of the glowing petals, a twig snapped. I swiveled to face the noise, weapon raised.

  “Who’s there?”

  “What are you doing in our forest?”

  I reached out behind me for my bike, but of course it wasn’t there. I didn’t even know which direction to go to find it, not that the growling voice in the darkness was ever going to let me leave.

  “I’m here for Carnelian Hunter.”

  I sounded strong. I felt it, too. Hot blood coursed through my veins, and my heartbeat sped up with the force of adrenaline and witch magic. I ripped my wand from my pocket and held it up in the other hand.

  “We should have known the offer to negotiate was only a distraction.” Anger rumbled through his voice, and I quickly stepped forward.

  They had decided to negotiate, then. Grandma would be stuck here for ages.

  “They don’t know I’m here.”

  There was a long pause, then he spoke again.

  “You shouldn’t be alone in these woods, little Dagger.”

  My heart leapt so hard it felt as if it had lodged itself into my throat. I swallowed and felt out into the world around me. There were energies here I could use, the earth beneath my feet and the wind that rustled the trees. Somewhere in the distance, the liquid energy of a
brook or stream passed through the forest. A breeze tossed my hair off my forehead.

  “I’m here for Carnelian Hunter,” I repeated. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

  “Doesn’t matter how many times you say it,” he said. “You’d better run along home before you find yourself in trouble.”

  My phone buzzed. I ignored it, but the presence in the trees did not.

  “You can get that.” The dark voice sounding almost amused.

  “I’m good.”

  “Answer the message,” he ordered.

  He was playing with me. I fixed the darkness under the trees with a firm gaze, then pulled out my phone.

  Brendan: Concert this weekend. You game?

  I pretended to respond with two quick swipes, then put the phone back in my pocket.

  No wonder the rest of the Daggers didn’t invest much in relationships. The two sides of my life clashed against each other in a way that was impossible to resolve.

  “Where is Carnelian?”

  “Nobody calls her Carnelian,” he growled. My stomach churned. “She’s Nelly. So she insists.”

  Goosebumps prickled on the back of my neck. I raised my wand.

  “You’ve got about thirty seconds to either take me to her or get out of my way.”

  I tried to steady my wand and pointed it toward the werewolf hiding in the trees. I summoned the energy of the earth to root my enemy to the ground, to stop him from being able to move to attack me.

  “There are almost a hundred of us,” he said. “We will destroy you, and we will leave you as a warning to other Daggers who think they can violate our rights by force. The Stiletto owes our pack a debt. She will pay.”

  “The Daggers will save her.”

  “On our terms,” he growled. “If you or any of your sisters attempt to rescue the Stiletto, we will kill her. Do not test us.”

  My hand shook. I felt eyes on me from every direction.

  They were here, they were watching me, and there was no way out.

  Behind me, the silence suddenly erupted to a roar. I screamed and jumped out of the way as my bike crashed through the branches of a low bush and skidded to a stop between me and the voice in the darkness. Alec was on the bike, hunched over and disheveled.

  “Get on,” he ordered.

  I didn’t have to be told twice. I leapt onto the seat behind him, and he peeled out and sped back the way he had come. The flowers winked around us in the darkness. We ignored them.

  “What the hell were you doing?” he shouted. “I told you not to go back.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I went after you, obviously,” he said. “You seemed like you were going to need rescuing.”

  I bristled at the word. No one rescued a Dagger.

  “I had it under control.”

  “I could see that,” he said. “They don’t just have claws, you know. They have normal Humdrum weapons, too. Guns. Bombs. They’re not scared of using them.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “You have a steak knife,” he said.

  “I have a weapon, the powers of which you could not possibly comprehend.”

  “Scarlett,” he said, loudly enough to cut through the roar of the engine below. “Shut up.”

  I held tight to his waist as we flew over a small ridge and barreled down a hill. We were back at the main road faster than I could have imagined. He came to a stop on the shoulder. Ordinary pavement stretched out on either side of us, the kind of normal road that couldn’t possibly lie at the edge of a forest full of werewolves and enchanted flowers.

  “Get off,” he ordered.

  I did, and he climbed off, too. He stood to scowl at me, his arms folded and his face bluish in the moonlight.

  “I didn’t think you knew how to ride,” I said.

  “Go home,” he said. “And stay home. You’re going to get killed if you come back here.”

  I opened my mouth, but he cut me off.

  “You think you’re tough,” he said. “Maybe you are. But you are not equipped to take on the Wildwoods. You will die, do you understand that?”

  “They took my grandmother.”

  “Maybe they had a reason.”

  I gaped at him. Okay, maybe I’d ruined his night and disrupted his camping and even pressured him into leading me to a werewolf den. But that was crossing the line.

  I climbed back on the bike.

  “I’m serious, Scarlett,” he said.

  “Thanks for the rescue,” I said. “Call me when that first clasp is ready.”

  I drove away without looking back.

  19

  It wasn’t until I was almost home that the reality of what had just happened hit me. I shivered in a way I couldn’t entirely blame on the early morning air. Dawn was shimmering at the lowest edges of the cold sky by the time I finally pulled into the mansion’s driveway.

  The house was quiet when I snuck in through the back door. A light was on in the kitchen, and the sounds of the coffeepot and the ticking of the toaster floated through the house from that direction, but no one was awake enough for conversation. I slipped up the stairs and to my room.

  The Wildwoods had no excuse to kidnap my grandmother.

  But Alec was right. I couldn’t go back and attack them. I didn’t know if they would actually hurt her, but was I willing to take that risk?

  I paced my room, restlessness tingling up and down my limbs. They had received an offer to negotiate. That was something. Maybe they were considering it.

  The thought of letting this go made my stomach feel like it was full of lead weights. Letting the Daggers negotiate would mean time—time Grandma didn’t have if we wanted to make Fashion Week everything she’d dreamed.

  Not letting the Daggers negotiate would put her in danger, and far more than I’d imagined if the werewolf’s claim that there were hundreds of them was true.

  I sank down onto my bed, suddenly exhausted.

  I had failed. Grandma was still out there, suffering who knew what abuse and mistreatment. The Carnelian show would fall apart. And I had to sit here and let it all happen.

  I pulled out my tarot deck. The cards were warm in my hands.

  “Give me something,” I muttered and flipped a card over.

  Ace of Wands. Go for it.

  Well, that couldn’t be right. The cards must be off. Unless they had more to offer. I shuffled them and hovered my hand over the deck.

  “Go for what?”

  I flipped the next card. Queen of Swords.

  She was an archetypal figure of a strong, wise, older woman. She held a sword pointed to the sky and was clothed in a flowing crimson cape.

  The Stiletto. Grandma.

  But it wasn’t the woman who caught my eye. It was the cape. This deck was old and worn, and I’d never seen one that had a Queen of Swords quite like it. Her cloak was beautifully drawn, with shadows and highlights rippling through the folds. The clasp was silver, wrought into a delicate shape reminiscent of a dagger or perhaps a pointed leaf.

  This was about Fashion Week. Grandma wasn’t going to be here to oversee preparations.

  But I was here. I knew what she wanted. I didn’t have her magic touch or her eye for design, but I had her sketches, and I knew everyone at the atelier.

  I couldn’t save Grandma, but maybe I could keep her dreams from falling apart.

  It felt as though I’d barely shut my eyes before someone was pounding at my door. I lifted my head from the pillow. Late morning light streamed through my window, and the tarot cards lay in a disheveled pile in front of me.

  “Yeah?” I called, my voice a groggy croak.

  The door cracked open. Sienna poked her head in. She looked at me and pursed her lips, eyebrows raised.

  “Um, sorry, thought you’d be up,” she said. She glanced at my cards and then at the jacket I’d slung haphazardly on my bedpost. “The Cardinals and I have arranged to meet with the Wildwoods for negotiations. Several of the Daggers are coming,
and we need someone to watch the kids.”

  Babysitting duty. I had been relegated to babysitting duty. I sat up, ready to spout a string of refusals at her, but my attention caught on one of the cards in front of me.

  Temperance.

  Curse it.

  I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “Yeah, sure, I’ll be down in a minute,” I said.

  Sienna stayed at the door like she was waiting for me to follow her downstairs. I widened my eyes at her.

  “I’ll be down in a minute,” I repeated.

  She let out an irritated sigh and closed the door. I waited until her footsteps had receded back down the stairs before I got up.

  A fresh pair of clothes and a big thermos of coffee were almost enough to make me feel awake. I sat on the sofa in the playroom and kept one eye on the Dagger kids while I scribbled lists and timelines in a notebook. A group of toddlers kept screaming at each other, but I’d done this enough times to be able to tell play screams from hurt ones, and mostly ignored them.

  The show was in just under two months. It wasn’t much time, particularly when I had no idea what I was doing. No one had spoken to the premières at the atelier, the women who headed up the different departments. We were a small house, with only two premières, one for couture clothes and one for ready-to-wear. Each of them oversaw everything from gowns to tailored suits. Fortunately, I’d only need to work with Josette, who was in charge of couture.

  That simplified things, and I liked Josette. I’d be able to rely on her. But first I had to come up with a convincing lie for why Grandma was gone and had left everything to me.

  One of the toddlers screeched. I looked up to see her tugging a toy away from another of the girls.

  “Sakura.”

  She stared up at me. I raised my eyebrows.

  “Do I need to take that away?”

  She gave me a challenging glare, then dropped the toy and started playing with something else as if that had been the goal all along. I rolled my eyes and went back to the notebook.

  My phone beeped.

  Brendan: Hey. Concert this weekend?