Scarlet & Silver
A Heavy Metal Magic Novella
Blaize Silver, Book 1
Table of Contents
Title Page
Scarlet and Silver
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
About the Author
A Note from the Author
© 2019 Margo Bond Collins
All copyrights remain in control of the individual authors over their own works: Stories Copyright: © 2016-2018 Margo Bond Collins, © 2018 Margo Bond Collins & Blaire Edens. All stories included are republished by permission.
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
These are works of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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PUBLISHED BY BATHORY Gate Press.
Meet Blaize Silver. Monster Hunter. Earth Mage. Demon Cursed. And totally pissed off.
There’s not much worse than being a werewolf hunter who’s allergic to silver. Except maybe being a werewolf who’s stuck in wolf form.
Hell, I’ve been traveling with Wolf for months now, and I still don’t know his real name.
So when I realize our latest monster-hunting call is back out to Tombstone, Arizona, where I met Wolf, I can’t decide whether to be excited or anxious. For all I know, his pack wants him dead for working with me. It would fit that whole werewolf pack vibe. They’re killy that way.
Maybe I should just switch over to hunting fairies, like my cousin Cassidy.
But then I’d miss out on the chance to find out what’s really going on with Wolf. And I definitely don’t want that.
Besides, there’s something out in the desert tracking all of us. It’s been painting the desert red with werewolf blood. If I can take it down, Wolf’s pack is going to owe me a favor.
Unless, of course, they brought us in just to feed us to it.
Fans of Faith Hunter, Ilona Andrews, and Anne Bishop will love the new Blaize Silver series.
"It's like Buffy meets Wynonna Earp and then they steal Sam & Dean’s car!" ~Author Blaire Edens
Prologue
A child’s last breath is the sweetest.
That final inhale, the shuddering trickle of air out. The huntress sat next to Jordan Adams’ hospital bed, listening to the slight rattle in his chest, leaning over his face to catch that last exhale.
Hospital protocol told her that she should call for a doctor. And she would have, but there was nothing left to do. She could feel death in his body, the cancer that had spread through his bones and out into his blood. Chemo had left him bald and frail—the veins showed blue through his pale translucent skin—a six-year-old boy turned into an old man too early.
Calling for a doctor wouldn’t do any good. The charge nurse on duty had already made her rounds earlier, checking in on Jordan, taking his temperature and speaking softly to his parents. His mother and father held each other’s hands tightly. The huntress had convinced them to go down to the cafeteria, to get something to eat to keep their strength up—“it could be a long haul,” she said to them, and the charge nurse nodded, seconding her suggestion.
None of them could smell the death on him, feel it sliding across his skin.
But she could. And she needed it.
So she waited.
Jordan’s eyes fluttered open. “Miss?” he whispered.
“Hey, baby,” she said, gathering his emaciated hand in her own. “How are you doing?”
He shook his head. “Not so good.”
“I know, honey.” She brushed her hand across his forehead as if smoothing back his long-gone hair.
“Where’s Mama?”
“She’s gone to get something to eat.”
He nodded. “Good. Daddy, too?”
“Yes.”
He sank back against the pillow as his eyes fluttered closed. Then he opened them again for a moment, wide. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
She shook her head.
His lips curved in a slight smile and he closed his eyes again.
It still surprised her that the little ones always knew, at the end. The very young and the very old—it was the ones in the middle who always seemed taken by surprise, angry and hurt, cursing God, fate, and sometimes her.
She tried to avoid the ones in the middle. And by the time she got to the old ones, they were almost all used up—tired and ready to go. Sucked dry by life.
It was the little ones who had the most to give her.
Everyone had to eat. Right?
That’s what she told herself, anyway.
Still, she hated eating the small ones. Even the ones that were going to die anyway.
But there she sat, Jordan’s tiny hand in hers, waiting for that last breath.
“It won’t hurt, will it?” he asked without opening his eyes.
“No,” she said softly.
“Good,” he said again, then drew in that breath she’d been waiting for. “Bye, Miss,” he said. She leaned in closer, her lips almost touching his.
His breath shuddered out and she sucked in, savoring the sugary taste of his death, his life, the years he’d never see. Her eyes closed as her heart sped up and her head swam. Then she sat up straight and placed Jordan’s hand gently on the bed next to him.
“Good-bye, Jordan,” she said.
She felt the tightness inside her belly start to loosen as Jordan’s warmth slid through her. For a moment, she panicked, pushing the Othering back down, fighting the change. She couldn’t afford it.
Not here. Not now.
She had to save that power for the next few days.
For the desert.
For the feast she’d been promised.
It had taken months for her to build up enough energy for what she needed to do. She couldn’t waste any of it.
The monitors connected to Jordan went wild as his heart-rate flatlined, and she stepped over to the machines, preparing them for the rush of activity as doctors and other nurses tried desperately to bring Jordan back.
It was their job.
But she knew he wasn’t coming back.
And pretty soon, so did they.
When the night was over, she walked out of the hospital, dropping the badge she wore into a nearby trash can.
It wasn’t really hers, anyway.
Chapter 1
“Why are we going back to Tombstone?” I glanced at Wolf as I asked the question.
He simply stared at me, cocking his head first to one side and then to the other, his ears pricking up as if to try to figure out what I meant.
“Don’t give me that I’m just a simple dog look. I know better.” For one thing, no mere animal had ever looked at me with that kind of intelligence shining out of its eyes.
For another thing? I’d seen Wolf transform into his human form. More than once
. Not for very long, mind you.
Well...except for that time he’d kissed me. I don’t know how long he was in his human form then.
My head still spun when I thought about it.
There was some reason he didn’t shift often. I suspected it was because he couldn’t, though I hadn’t been able to figure out why.
But he had no problem communicating information to me when he thought it was necessary. So his refusal to give me any hint of why my curse was pulling me back to Tombstone, Arizona, where I’d first met Wolf.
Where my cousin Grace had died. We’d been fighting werewolves, and then had gotten drawn into a showdown with an earth-demon, right in the middle of the O.K. Corral.
We’d lost. Gracie had lost her life, and I’d lost her.
All monster hunters die, I reminded myself. Most of us die at the hands—or teeth or claws—of the creatures we hunt.
I shook off that morbid train of thought.
“Maybe we’re not going to Tombstone at all,” I suggested, keeping an eye on the road, but still paying close attention to Wolf’s reaction. “Maybe we’re going someplace close to Tombstone.”
Wolf turned his head away from me and stared out the window.
“Really? You’re not going to give anything away?”
In response, Wolf flowed down out of the passenger seat and made his way to the back of my van. Although we both slept back there—I had it outfitted to double as a bedroom, of sorts—he rarely rode in the back when we were out on the road.
“You can’t avoid me forever,” I called back to him, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Coward,” I muttered as I turned my attention to the long, western highway stretching out in front of me, taking me where my curse called me.
MY CURSE.
Some people inherit green eyes or athletic ability. Others get more material inheritances, like trust funds or houses or great-great-grandmother’s wedding ring.
Not me.
I inherited great-great-however-many-greats-granny’s compulsion to hunt evil things, a wicked allergy to silver, and the inability to leave the southwestern U.S.
Sucks to be me.
Luckily, I also inherited a touch of earth magic and a pile of weapons that my Daddy taught me to use from the time I could first hold a knife or aim a gun.
And I’m not alone in this weird life of mine. My cousin Cassidy is out in California with her own version of the curse from her ancestors. We’re not really cousins—not exactly—but our families have worked together since at least the late 1800s, so we might as well be.
Right now, my own curse was pulling me back to Tombstone, one of the last places I ever wanted to return to.
We drove into the tiny town on Highway 80 right before sunset, the last of the sunlight stretching out long fingers across the road in front of us. My stomach tightened, a metallic taste flooding my mouth.
Adrenaline.
I knew it intellectually—knew what I was experiencing was a holdover from the trauma of the night Gracie had died.
But knowing what was causing it didn’t stop it from happening.
The closer we got to the O.K. Corral, the worse I felt.
“I have to stop,” I managed to choke out before pulling the van off to the side of the road. I barely got the driver’s door open in time, leaning out to vomit on the pavement below.
I continued to heave several times after my stomach was empty. As my physical reaction to returning to the scene of Grace’s death began to ease, Wolf gently placed his head on my leg.
I reached down and threaded my fingers through the ruff of fur around his neck. “I’ll be okay,” I reassured him.
Daddy would’ve called it nerves. I was pretty sure it was PTSD. Either way, it was nothing I could help right now. I assumed the earth demon that had attacked us was no longer around—though I suppose it could have been. The thought made me shiver.
I took a mouthful of water and swished it around in my mouth. After I spit it out on the ground, I shut the door and pulled the van back out onto the highway that ran directly through town. I knew where one public parking lot was, but it was where I’d stayed the last time I’d been here, and I was determined to avoid as many of those spots as possible.
“Where do we go now?” I murmured aloud, speaking more to myself than to Wolf, but he’s the one who answered, letting out a yip as he pointed his nose toward an upcoming turn.
“You want me to turn there?” I asked, pointing at the cross street as we drove past.
Wolf gave me a look of pure consternation.
“Sorry.” I checked for traffic—there wasn’t any—and made a U-turn.
We’d gone less than a complete block down the new street when a huge animal darted across the street in front of the van. I slammed on the brakes, and the monstrous animal in front of us stepped to one side, just far enough to keep from getting hit.
The next thing I knew, a naked man was knocking on the passenger window. “Hey. We’ve been waiting for you. Let me in before I get caught out here.”
Chapter 2
I glanced over at Wolf to get his approval before I let the other werewolf in. Even after he’d nodded, though, letting this furry stranger into my home made me nervous.
But Wolf moved down out of the passenger seat, settling onto the floor between my seat and the new guy’s. He gave the guy a wolfy grin—or maybe a half-snarl—and ducked into the back long enough to pull a blanket off the small platform bed with his teeth and drag it up to the front.
“Thanks,” the naked guy said. He draped the blanket over his lap.
It took pretty much everything I had not to snicker aloud. Wolf had never struck me as a prude. I mean, I’d never mentioned it to him, of course, but it’s not like he ever covered up his junk.
My mind flashed back to the times he’d been in his human form and kissed me, and my cheeks began to burn.
“Drive,” naked werewolf dude said.
I raised my eyebrows and blinked at him. “Drive? That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
He scowled. “Drive fast.”
Wolf and I exchanged a glance. He might not be able to talk most of the time, but we communicated just fine.
“I’m sorry. But before we move at all, we need more information. Who are you? Where are we going? Why?”
“Your friend knows perfectly well who I am.” The werewolf gestured at Wolf.
“I don’t.” I shifted the van to park and dropped my hands into my lap. “I’m not going anywhere without more information.”
The werewolf spoke through gritted teeth. “We’re going to the pack lands.” He pointed at Wolf. “And I’m his brother.”
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Wolf and I both exited through the driver’s side of the van. I’d followed the werewolf’s directions, taking us down a dirt track out into the desert. I couldn’t tell this spot from any number of others we’d passed, but apparently, Wolf’s brother could.
“Your brother?” I hissed before we came around the front end of the van. “Seriously?”
Wolf ducked his head in a lupine shrug—or maybe an attempt to avoid responsibility for whatever the fuck trouble we were in now. I couldn’t tell.
Formerly naked dude, who had left his—my—blanket in the passenger seat of the van, and had now shifted back in his Wolf form, led us around the base of the hill to a small house on the other side.
Finding the structure this far outside of civilization might have surprised me if I hadn’t grown up hunting in this part of the country. This area might look like a deserted wasteland to outsiders, but I’d been watching the signs of civilization—or something like it—all the way out here. In particular, I’d watched the way the grass had been flattened, seen the remains of campfires, and even noticed the old phone lines that ran out this direction.
This werewolf pack might be good at hiding its tracks, but it wasn’t perfect.
The house itself was a modest ranch-style home.
Wolf’s broth
er led us inside, right up to the doorway of the master bedroom, where he stepped back to usher us in ahead of him.
A tall, curvy redhead woman was just slipping on a robe and tying it around her waist. Her back was to the door, but as we entered, she said, “Welcome to our den.”
If Cass had been here, she would’ve known how to answer that. She was always better with the diplomacy shit than I was. With her family’s allergy to iron, she was most often called to deal with the fae. They were people-like, so I guess they required a certain amount of diplomacy.
Most of the things I fought were monstrous monsters—the kind that would eat you alive rather than parley with you.
“Have a seat,” the redhead woman said, gesturing toward a grouping of around a fireplace at one end of her room. She sank down into a wingback chair, crossing her long, slim legs.
“Why are we here?” I asked.
A slight smile crossed her face. She peered at me with bright green eyes. “I have been asking my magic users to contact you. I was hoping your curse would pick up the call at some point.”
I dropped down into the sea directly across from her, planting both booted feet on the floor and leaning forward to rest my elbows on them, my wrists dangling between my legs. It was one of the most masculine positions I had seen, and I found it useful around hyper-feminine women. Especially when they were really monsters inside. The werewolf who brought us out here might claim to be Wolf’s brother, but Wolf had left this pack. I didn’t trust any of them.
Wolf came over and dropped to his haunches next to me. I let my hand drift over to rest on his ruff, subtly claiming him as my own. “Well, you got us. What can we help you with?”
The werewolf woman studied us for a few moments then gestured toward the doorway, waving for whoever was outside to come in. Several people—werewolves, I presumed—filed in, including Wolf’s brother, who now wore a pair of khaki shorts and nothing else.
“I have recruited some of our pack’s better fighters,” she said. “Please meet Eddie, Austin, Zach, and Shelley.”
Scarlet and Silver Page 1
