Scarlet Huntress (Tales of Grimm Hollow Book 1)

by LeAnn Mason

  “There are many Shifter animals. Both predator and prey can be found within Grimm Hollow’s boundaries. There are very few prey Shifters that have survived the centuries. They mostly stick around their homes now, so we shouldn’t have a problem. But, because of that, we do not hunt within the boundaries. Our animals know better.”

  “So, you’re telling me that if I run across a deer, or like, a rabbit… it might be a person?”

  “Yes, so don’t get any ideas about running around killing animals in the forest… unless you are going to be outside the enchantment. Which you won’t be until I am satisfied that you can sufficiently protect yourself. Now, let’s talk weapons.”

  “I thought you just said I couldn’t use weapons within Grimm Hollow?”

  “Not at all what I said. I said you could not hunt. All your weapon use will be in a practice environment and equipped accordingly.” Fully convinced that he’d ended the conversation, Jason turned his back on me and walked toward a tree where I now noticed an array of weapons lined up at its base. The display made my heart thump heavily in my chest, whether from anticipation or anxiety, I wasn’t entirely sure.

  Ebony was wary of the weapons, itching under my skin as if reminding me that I had her. She was my weapon, if only we could figure ourselves out. Looking over the assembly, I noticed a certain item conspicuously absent.

  There wasn’t a single firearm present.

  “Why aren’t there any guns? Wouldn’t that be the best choice? The easiest?” Seemed obvious to me.

  “Guns are not a Sentinel weapon.” He said it so simply. Like it was just so and that was it. But he didn’t know me at all…

  “Why would you ever choose a bow and arrows over a gun?” I waved my hand at the longbow and quiver in front of me. “I mean, I guess the crossbow there would be kinda similar, so what’s the deal?”

  “Most Sentinels are Shifters whose hearing is far too sensitive for such a loud weapon. It would deafen the user, not to mention it would give away your position if you missed or if there were several targets. There is also a much higher incidence of accidental discharge.”

  I guess I could see his point. I’d never fired a gun, so it was not like I would know how to use it, anyway. I might just end up with one of those “accidental discharges.” Shuttling closer, I looked over what was there. Bows, arrows, long and short handled axes, and knives. There was even a sword.

  Holy crap, what did I sign up for?

  “Um, well, I have a knife, so I should probably learn how to actually use it. You know, more than that the pointy end goes in the other person.”

  He scooped up a sheathed blade about eight inches long, then stepped away again. “Now, a long-range weapon.”

  “Long-range? Well, gee, wouldn’t a gun be the best option there?” At his growl, I surrendered, hands up and everything. “Okay, okay. Um, how about a bow. I shot a little as a kid. Something my grandmother taught me. Probably because it’s a traditional weapon,” I babbled, leaning forward to gather the pretty wooden bow to inspect. The reddish-brown of the wood gleamed when the light hit it. Smooth, polished, and worked to a high shine.

  It was beautiful. Ebony seemed to appreciate the weapon as well, a pleasant buzz suffusing my body. Maybe we’d figure this thing out after all.

  “That’s a recurve bow. Good choice, it’s a great weapon. Grab the arrows.” I complied and followed Jason back to our little clearing. “Throw that quiver across your body, so the arrows are reachable over your draw shoulder. I'd have you attach at your hip, but your knife will be there. We don't want you to have any problems getting to it. No, swing it to your draw side," he admonished.

  I checked where I’d affixed the quiver behind my left shoulder. “I did.”

  “But that’s your left shoulder."

  After a moment of raised eyebrows that seemed to go completely over my instructor’s oblivious head, I stated what I deemed obvious. “I’m left-handed.” I let those three words sink in, waiting for the proverbial lightbulb to go on. I couldn’t help a little laugh when it did.

  His cheeks pinked with embarrassment, and his smile lit up like a boy who’d just had his first kiss, taking his mistake in stride for once. “Oh. Of course. Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll have to make adjustments. Bear with me. You’re the first lefty I’ve taught.”

  “No worries. Now, what do I need to do?” My hand tightened around the curved wood, just below where the nocked arrow would sit. It felt good, a near perfect width for my grip. I was excited to shoot the weapon. I’d forgotten just how much I’d liked it… way back when.

  Before.

  It was a step. The first step to me feeling in control of my own life. “I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “I ’m back!” I called out, stepping through Elsie’s cheery blue front door, albeit gingerly. My arms were useless noodles after hours of Jason’s attempts to perfect my stance and draw. There were blisters forming in the bend of my fingertips from doing too many practice releases to count. He’d finally discharged me when my arms couldn’t hold the bow without shaking and dipping. The final straw was the accidental release of the string when my fingers just couldn’t hold on any longer.

  “You look positively wrung out, my dear,” Elsie stated as she greeted me from within the confines of the little kitchen. “Come. Sit. Dinner is about ready.”

  I took her advice and plopped heavily into one of the dark wood chairs situated around the little scarred table in the nook. The bay windows let in a substantial amount of light and lent to the warmth of the cozy home. If I could ever have my own house, I think I’d want it very similar. It was a home. Warm. Loving.

  “So, tell me about your first day,” Elsie requested, breaking my daydream about my own non-existent abode and forcing my mind back to my exhausted body.

  “It was… informative,” I hedged. My eyes were drawn to a deep gouge in the wood, and I couldn’t help but finger the blemish as I talked. “I have a lot to learn, for sure. I need to get in shape. I’m going to be hating life tomorrow, and I’m sure that won’t change Jason’s regime in the slightest.”

  “That’s very true,” she chuckled with apparent fondness. I wondered why. It was hard to get a read on the hunter. Solitary and abrasive but he seemed to be a natural protector.

  “I learned that there are other Shifter species. A bear of a man swung by for a moment, and I found out that he is, just as he appeared, a frickin’ bear Shifter!” I made the motion like my head had exploded. Elsie’s shoulders shook, as did her head, when she laughed at my surprise.

  “Must have been Nick. They’re pretty close, and he was there when Seth’s… lackey came upon you,” she answered with another smile before her features darkened, presumably with the thought of Colin. Or Seth.

  I needed to know more about the magic here and forget about Colin. I knew there was more. I perked up, scooting noisily in my chair to be just a little closer. “Can you explain just what—who all I could run across in town? I figured you’d be better to ask than Jason.”

  “Oh? Why did you think that?”

  “I didn’t think he’d answer. He seems to be pretty narrowly focused when it comes to me. He doesn’t seem to want my company but insists on being the one to train me.”

  “Jason is more solitary than most of the pack. He takes his Sentinel duties very seriously.”

  “I’ll bet,” I muttered darkly. The broody wolf shifter was definitely serious, but I’d thought about him enough for the day. Time to learn something new. “So, can you tell me about the magic-folk here in Grimm Hollow?”

  “There aren’t really many Fae around anymore.” Elsie tittered lightly as she abandoned her ministrations at the stove, pulling out a chair next to mine and sinking slowly into it. “There are different classifications of supernaturals. Magic users are Witches, Mages, and Shamans.” She watched me intently while she spoke, taking in my responses. This particular classification didn’t really surprise me. I’d known about both Wit
ches and Shamans, after all. “Witches have magic in their blood that allows them to do spell work. Manipulation of words or intent act as a conduit for the magic to flow.” At my nod, she continued.

  “Mages are born with elemental magic. The ability to control one or more aspects of nature is found in their blood. Jasper, you met him, is the head of the Mages of Grimm Hollow. They are very powerful and less power hungry than Witches tend to be.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Why is what, dear?”

  “Why are Witches so intent on gathering more? Why do they seem so… corruptible?” It was something that I was intimately aware of. There was always some ritual being performed that would give the coven more.

  “Because they can take more, if, and only if their mind and body can contain it. Mages and Shamans can each hone their gifts, but neither can do any more than they could have the day their power manifested had they the knowledge and practice.”

  Well, that was certainly interesting. “So, you’re telling me the Witches will always crave more simply because… they can?”

  “That’s about the gist, yes. Be very aware of any dealings with a Witch. Gloria included.”

  I had gathered as much about Gloria. She may not be evil, but the woman was definitely power-hungry and opportunistic. “And Shamans. We deal with the spirit.” I knew at least that.

  “That we do. All manner of ‘psychic’ falls under the Shaman umbrella as well. It all has to do with the spirit, you see.”

  “And my mother could see the future?” Watching the old woman nod, I was painfully reminded that she, too, was my family even if we were estranged. She was at least three-quarters Native, with Ruddy skin, dark eyes, and hair more often than not in the stereotypical dual-braid style. I saw my loved ones in her. Where was her family?

  “Yes. She could. I’ve often wondered if she knew what would happen. Her death. My sister’s death. Your loss and continued hardships. I miss them every day, but I am so indescribably happy to have the ability to know you.” She did look genuinely happy. Her yellow aura stretched toward me, as if it looked to connect to me, to shared blood. How lonely had Elsie been here in Grimm Hollow since the departure of her—remaining—family? "I am the figurehead for the Shamans. I couldn't leave, didn't want to back then." Her sad smile was interrupted by a conscious clearing of her throat, returning her to our previous conversation, leaving the heavy topics for another day.

  “Shifters are the most prolific race within Grimm Hollow, followed closely by Witches. Shifters are a very… primal people. It is in their very nature to be reactive and animalistic. The disciplined ones can temper the animal’s instinct, be in true harmony with the beast.”

  “Ha!” I barked without mirth. “Yeah, Jason has brought that up. It seems to be my main hindrance to actually shifting. Something about it being harder because neither Ebony nor I are used to sharing ourselves. Oh yeah, and the fact that we are two complete beings, not halves of a whole. Relinquishing control isn’t coming easily or… naturally.” I chuckled with self-deprecation, then muttered, “I seem to have some trouble trusting that a wolf is a safe thing to be.”

  “I don’t blame you. You’ve had a… a hard life, Allya.” She was quiet so long after her words that it drew my attention. She sat, unseeing of the present, a crease deeply set between her eyes, and throat working. With a strong urge to reach across and smooth away her worry, I settled for a less invasive gesture. Tentatively, I reached forward, and covered one of her thin hands with mine.

  Like the snap of a rubber band, her focus returned, a wan smile finding her lips. Her free hand came over the top of our small mound, giving me a pat to accompany her attempts at reassurance. “I’m sorry. I feel guilty that you’ve gone through what you have, especially alone. I wish I’d known. That I could have come to you; saved you some of that pain.”

  Her sincerity and contrition gutted me, but I made a decision then. “What’s done is done. I don’t want to dwell on the past anymore. I just want to make sure I have a future.”

  “You’re right. No dwelling.” She patted my hand again before withdrawing back to the stove to tend to the drool-inducing food. “We also have Vampires and a few scattered Fae who call Grimm Hollow home.” She continued our previous conversation with hardly a noticed hitch. “Vampires are born, not made, and have no aversions to sunlight. They do, however, need blood to sustain themselves. They are, like Shifters, extremely strong, fast, and heal quickly.”

  “Sheesh, is that all?” I asked sarcastically. I kind of hoped I didn’t run into any Vampires any time soon. They seemed a little out of my league. Remembering Sasha, the helpful housekeeper—though she seemed too young—I wondered what category she fit into. Her unique features didn't seem an obvious fit for the other categories. The green tint of her hair and fingertips, as well as the sprawling mark on her leg. "Sasha, Gloria's… helper?" I didn't know how to describe her position in Gloria's life but plowed on anyways. "What is she? Do Mages have characteristics of their element? Or, maybe Fae?"

  "Sasha is… underappreciated in the coven house, but she is under Gloria's supervision for the time being. I won't say more about their situation as it is not for me to tell. As for what she is? Half Fae, half Witch. That is assumed, anyway."

  A dark stoneware bowl filled with piping hot and aromatic chili appeared in front of me, covering the gouge I’d been fascinated with for most of the conversation. It was a good distraction, though. My stomach rumbled loudly with the appearance of sustenance. I thanked Elsie and tucked into the hearty meal. A bright yellow square of cornbread appeared a moment later, and I was in heaven.

  “We can talk more another time. Or, maybe you could go explore the Archives. Marie has agreed to let you work there, on a trial basis.” She said it so matter-of-factly. Like we were discussing the weather, not a means for me to begin my independence.

  The spoon full of meat and beans stalled halfway to my open maw as I gaped. It took a moment for me to swallow the surge of emotion. It had been a long, trying day full of revelations. This was icing on the cake. “Thank you,” all I could manage at that moment, but Elsie seemed to understand, her kind eyes lighting as the corners crinkled with her smile.

  “You’re welcome, Allya. Marie expects you tomorrow afternoon for an introduction. Meet me here after your morning training with Jason, and I’ll take you over. There’s a phone in your room. Jason’s number, as well as mine, have already been programmed into it. You can let him know the new schedule and anything else as it crops up without using an intermediary.”

  My smile felt like it would split my cheeks, but I couldn’t smother it.

  I was one step closer to independence.

  CHAPTER 21

  W e began the training with sticks the next morning. Jason took my dagger, saying he’d get Gloria to spell it for our sessions. Apparently, that meant that she’d render it unable to injure anyone. That way, I could practice with the weapon I planned to use, and get a feel for the blade’s weight and length, without being able to hurt Jason, or myself.

  That meant we’d have to make due with a stand-in, at least for the day. I felt silly holding a splinter in my hands… until I remembered that I’d killed a man—my brother—with just such a makeshift weapon. Jason rallied, pulling out a side of himself I’d not yet seen in him: playfulness. He bounced around, forward and back, with the wood extended before him. “En garde.” He jabbed the air, his free hand stretched perpendicular to his body. A dimple appeared in his cheek as his mouth hitched up in a lopsided smirk.

  I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from within. “If you were like this more, I wouldn’t complain about our time together nearly as much, Inigo.”

  He stopped moving around, instead planting his feet almost like a lunge, his weight on the rear foot, “sword” arm extended toward me. “I hate to kill you.”

  “I hate to die,” I returned.

  We stood in our parody of a fencing match for only a moment before we
both dissolved into laughter. It was good, a nice change to laugh with him. He was so handsome when he smiled. I couldn’t help but get dragged into his net, completely taken with the big man. Ebony echoed my approval.

  A low growl broke my appreciation, my eyes shooting to Jason’s to see the hazel bright, nearly glowing. “Don’t look at me like that, Red. We need to stay focused. Maybe once you’ve gotten the hang of some of this, enough that I don’t have to worry about you doing yourself more harm than anything else. Then? Then we can talk.”

  And there was the ice-water that he eventually doused me with. Every. Time. I gave a sardonic two-fingered salute. “Aye, Captain. Tally-ho.” I bowed, flipping my hand in a flourish so exaggerated there was no mistaking the sarcasm. And that concluded the fun portion of the day’s training. Instead, Jason showed me the best ways to utilize my weapon, based on my stature and strengths.

  Swing upward, not down. With my shorter height, the impact would be less from above. It would also be easier to stop my arc and disarm me. I needed to strike quickly, to hit the soft areas of the body: the gut, the kidney, the groin.

  “Make sure your wrist is solid. Hold it firm.” Jason demonstrated the difference of a strike with the wrist line broken and then straight. The difference was huge, and I’d been nearly impaled with the action. Luckily, he’d pulled his strength. Asshole. He’d laughed and chided me that I’d never learn anything if he took it easy on me.

  I had to disagree. My body ached from all of the places it had been gouged within the first hour of the exercise. I did learn that I seemed to heal at least a little quicker than I should have been able to. I’d awoken to hands that were blister-free, and the aches were easily stretched out. I could only hope that the bruises inflicted today would fare similarly.