Scarlet Huntress (Tales of Grimm Hollow Book 1)

by LeAnn Mason

The shift had forced my mangled right arm to contort in its return to human form, the action making me realize, in the most unpleasant way possible, that I could still feel the limb.

  “Good, she’s human. Cover her up, but leave the arm exposed,” an authoritative female voice instructed. I could hear clicking along the floor. Close, then further away, the heels moved in a methodical rush. A heavy weight fell across the top of my body, covering all of my exposed girly bits—that I’d not realized were on display—and down to my shins. The smell of forest, a mixture of sap, moist leaves, and damp earth accompanied the garment. My cloak.

  “Jason,” I croaked, cracking a crusted eye open, the action taking much more thought and energy than it should have for such a remedial function.

  “He’s here, Allya. Just stay still for me, and we’ll get you all fixed up,” the feminine voice soothed. Gloria moved her hands to hover just above my mangled limb, never quite touching me. Her orange aura swelled so that it touched me. A pleasant tingling followed in her wake. With each pass, my energy returned, and my arm… mended.

  This was not the first time I’d endured such an injury. Seth’s demented Witches loved to inflict harm on me. It was one of Griffin’s favorite pastimes, after all. It wasn’t even my first time being healed. But this was the first time healing me was a priority, a goal. It was novel. Nice, even.

  A whimper reminded me that Ebony was new to the Witches’ brand of torture. She’d endured life in the wild, but she’d most likely had the security and protection of a pack. She’d not have had a limb broken, let alone mangled as badly as we’d just been. Now, she was huddled into a dark corner of my mind, proverbially licking her wounds.

  “Allya, I’ve healed your wounds. It is the last time I will do so for free,” Gloria warned, her face set into stern lines I was sure she’d hate to be notified of. You’d never have guessed that she had just performed an intense healing only moments before. Her hair still perfectly quaffed with only a couple of tendrils artfully pulled out of the low bun. Another power-suit, this one a deep purple, hugged her ample curves.

  Were those curves spell-enhanced?

  “Thank you, Gloria. I hope I won’t have need of it again, but what if I do? What does a healing cost?” Groaning, I looked around, now anxious as to my surroundings… and my state of dress. Or rather, undress. My heavy scarlet cloak draped across my body so as to preserve my modesty.

  But he had seen me. All of me. Jason had started his trek toward town with Ebony’s body until she’d receded. Hiding. I needed to make sure she wasn’t scarred for life. Needed to get her back to her assertive self. I needed her if I was going to take on Seth and the coven. We’d need to make ourselves one badass package. Hurt would happen, it was inevitable, but we would endure. And once we’d destroyed them, we would thrive.

  Ebony perked up at the vehemence of my mental assertion. I could feel her conviction grow. She trusted me, and she wanted blood.

  Good. I’d give it to her.

  “Allya, are you listening?” Gloria pinched her features at me again.

  Oops.

  “I’m sorry, Gloria. I spaced for a moment. I needed to ease Ebony out of the corner she hid in.” I felt a blush rise from my chest to creep above the makeshift blanket and stain my body a red nearly matching the covering.

  After a moment of glaring, and a haughty sniff to boot, she gave a terse, "You're forgiven," before repeating what I'd apparently been too preoccupied to hear prior. "I said that the cost varies, depending on the severity of the wound and the… intensity of the healing needed. In short, the harder it is for me, the higher the cost for you."

  "Well, that sounds reasonable," I mumbled. I'd hate to know what she considered fair payment for her services. I hoped I never found out, but something told me I wouldn't be that lucky.

  “There is something else I noticed while using my magic to heal you. You have a strong bind upon you. I guess that is why I didn’t feel any magical energy from you upon our first meeting,” Gloria mused, as if the missing piece of a puzzle had just presented itself.

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  “I forget that you are not versed in magic. Just shows how much you need those tutoring sessions we had set up,” the Witch rambled. As I moved to interject, her eyes cleared and again focused on me. A tight smile accompanied her gaze. “A bind is a spell that can be placed upon a Witch to effectively cut them off from their magic. Seth seems to have done such to you.”

  What?! “Uh, I... had no idea.” My mind swirled yet again. If I wasn’t careful, my head would explode during one of these meetings. “Are you saying I have Witch magic?”

  “Probably not much. Hybrids usually have a... dominant trait and magic associated with it. You seem to favor your Shaman ancestry, but you may be able to do small, simple spells that require little magic or effort. But,” she held up a manicured finger, “not until Seth, or whoever placed the bind, either lifts it or dies.”

  Too much. I was on information overload. But, maybe it explained the constant tightness I felt in my chest. I always thought I was asthmatic or something. Magic. True magic ran in my blood.

  “Wow, what a trip,” I murmured absently. It made sense that Seth wouldn’t allow his captive any amount of magic to defend themselves, or escape.

  “Sasha,” the Mistress called for her housekeeper-girl loudly enough to make a spike of pain shoot through my head. The sensation reminded me that, although I may not be physically mangled any longer, my body still needed time to heal.

  Looking around the room, I realized two things. One, I'd not been in this room of the coven house before now. It was big and open, though plenty of witchy paraphernalia littered the outer edges of the space, tables and shelves lined with vials and herbs, bowls, and pestles. I was situated on a long, dark table that looked to have been cleared for my arrival. The previous contents splashed across the wood flooring in a mimicry of a child getting into mother's cabinets and flinging the flour onto every surface.

  That had to piss off Gloria. She struck me as a very “everything in its place” kind of person. I thought maybe it was a Witch thing. It would make sense for all spellcasting ingredients, of which there were infinite combinations.

  I shivered at the thought. The memory of my arm—Ebony's leg—being brutally twisted rushed to the forefront of my mind.

  The second thing I noticed was that Jason seemed to be absent from the room. I swiveled my head like an owl to every corner of the room but had yet to see his stern and disapproving features. I hated that I deflated with the knowledge that he'd basically dumped me here, more than ready to run away from me and the disaster I presented.

  With grumpiness taking over my relief at being healed, I swung my legs over the side of the table and hopped to the floor. The cloak fell to the floor in a vibrant puddle, exposing my utter nakedness to the air wafting through the room… and the people in it. I squeaked a horrified gasp as I crossed everything I could around all of the parts that needed covering, feeling much like those nightmares where you are standing in front of the class in only your underwear. Only this was worse, because I was full-on bare.

  Grabbing for the discarded fabric at my feet, I found myself suddenly clad in modest shirt and pant attire. “You?” I asked the powerful Witch. At her raised eyebrow, I muddled through my appreciation. “Thank you so much, Gloria. For healing me.” I looked again at the clothes. “And for clothing me. I-I am in your debt.” I turned toward the door, ready to flee—to where, I wasn't sure—and nearly steamrolled over poor Sasha.

  With a startled squeak, I backpedaled, a hand thrown up as a cushion in hopes that I didn't flatten the poor girl to the floorboards in my haste to escape. “I'm sorry, Sasha. Excuse me.” I cringed internally as I thought of all of the fluids this room had most likely seen, forcing myself to stay and talk to the girl who'd always shown me kindness in this house.

  “How are you? How's school going?” I remembered that she went to Grimm Hollow High, and
though I wouldn’t be attending normally scheduled classes, I hadn’t yet started my tutoring sessions there, so I hadn’t seen Sasha outside of Gloria’s house.

  Once again, the girl's unusual looks caught my attention, my eyes dragging down to her lower leg, where that sprawling image of a tree took up most of the skin. The rough branches seemed to stretch and tangle along her bronzed skin. It really was incredible.

  “Is that a tattoo?” I asked, pointing at the piece. “It's… hauntingly beautiful.”

  “It's… I'm… more of a birthmark, I guess,” she mumbled, fidgeting from foot to foot, her eyes darting between mine and further into the room. “I've had it since I was—”

  “Today, Ash,” came Gloria's annoyed timbre. “Now, I need this room spick and span.”

  “Excuse me,” Sasha murmured as she scooted quietly but quickly around me into the dim space. Gloria sure made the girl mousy, and I wondered just how she'd accomplished it. How long had she beaten down the poor girl's soul to cause her light-green aura to flicker when in her presence?

  Shamefaced, I ducked my head and made to leave. I needed some fresh air. The smell of too many pungent herbs and concoctions had my senses swimming. “It was good seeing you, Sasha. Maybe we could grab lunch one day.”

  “Come, Allya. We need to talk,” Gloria intoned as she breezed past where I still stood in the wide doorway. The loud clacking of her heels easy enough to follow, and with a half-hearted wave at Sasha—who didn’t see because she was stuck on all fours scrubbing the floor—I scurried after the mistress.

  CHAPTER 24

  T he mansion was so large and open that Gloria’s strident tapping on the stone floor seemed to echo off the high ceiling and bounce around the wallpaper. Luckily, she also left a substantial scent trail that my Ebony-assisted senses allowed me to follow. It helped that I knew where I was in the house, once I’d left the strange room. The Witch had made her way back to a place of prominence: her office.

  Within ten feet of the open doorway, I knew she was not alone in the room. My great aunt and Jasper were once again present, along with Jason and another man I couldn’t identify. The scent said animal. Feline. Musky and male. His presence was enormous, and I wanted to remain where I could keep the man in my line of sight.

  He sat—lounged, really—in a wingback chair set to the side of the doorway at the rear of the room. His repose didn’t fool me. He was deadly. I gave him a wide berth and attempted to keep some senses tuned to him. I couldn’t really keep him in my sight once I entered the room, because he’d put himself at the perfect place to keep the rest of the occupants in sight while not allowing anyone to his back. Jason stood just to the left of the newcomer, drawing my eye for only a moment before they veered back toward the larger unknown threat.

  Smart. Formidable. Out of our league.

  Don’t mess with the big guy.

  I watched him as I moved into the room, and he returned the favor. Everything about him could be described as “golden.” Golden hair, golden skin, golden eyes… just golden. The only glaring exception to the permeation of the hue was the stark contrast of the bright red of his aura. A very confident, passionate… sexual color. A color that no doubt stained my skin from chest to ears if the heat of my flush was any indication.

  “Allya, meet Ryan. Ryan is the king of the Shifters. He is also a lion and the leader of the Sentinels, which is why he is here today. Jason, could you close the doors?” Gloria inclined her head at the royal in an uncharacteristic display of respect. He returned the gesture in a manner that seemed befitting of a king, a combination of acknowledgement and dismissal that I’d never hope to master. The thudding of the heavy wooden doors had my coiled muscles flinching. Man, I was wound. Ebony was super sensitive since our attack mere hours before.

  Had it really only been hours?

  “Sir.” I dipped my head in acknowledgement. The golden-ness of him made so much sense now, as did the strong scent of cat. I bit my cheek to keep those observational comments to myself. The metallic tang of blood tinged my mouth from my efforts, but at least the words didn’t escape. I didn’t want to die because I’d offended the freaking king of the Shifters, and I had no idea if he had a sense of humor. Maybe I’d ask Jason… unless they were booting me from Grimm Hollow for endangering their people.

  I sure wasn’t looking forward to facing the coven without further skills, but I couldn’t say I’d fault them. I was a blight on the town. Its citizens would continue to be hurt while I sat safely within its wards. Unless I took the fight to Seth. Unless I somehow became a total badass who could take on an entire coven of high-level magic users who also had the senses of seasoned predators. Easy peasy.

  I sidled as close to the right wall as I could get, standing sideways so that I could keep all of the room’s occupants within my visual sphere.

  See? I could be tactical as well. I lifted a superior eyebrow at the thought before I felt someone sidle up to me. Elsie was a reassuring presence at my hip, and I dipped my chin in acknowledgement, my eyes sliding her way for only a moment before returning to Ryan’s and Jason’s corner.

  “Are you all right, my dear? How is Ebony handling herself?” I appreciated her concern for not only my welfare but for Ebony’s. Maybe it was her connection to spirit or the fact that she was my blood. Either way, I appreciated it and felt like at least one person in this room of Grimm powerhouses cared what happened to me.

  “We’ll be all right, Elsie. Thank you.”

  “I know you will, child. Both of you are very strong in spirit. Very formidable warriors.” She squeezed my arm gently before pulling away, retreating back toward Gloria’s oversized desk to stand near Jasper. Jasper, as before, quietly contemplated, giving a slight head nod in my direction—the greeting of the meeting, it seemed—when my eyes drifted his way.

  “There have been a number of occurrences in the last several days. Since your arrival,” the king stated in a rather accusatory tone. Golden eyes, nearly the same color as mine, bore into me, but his body gave no further movement. Those eyes probed and searched, looking for… something in me. “Your own attack marked an escalation in threat and violence but one we assumed would be coming. The fact that they did not know your wolf-form is very likely the only reason you are here now.”

  I couldn’t disagree with that assessment. If I’d come tearing out of the warding in my human form, Diana would have incapacitated… or killed me. “Is this the part where you tell me that I am a danger to your people, your town, and your way of life, and I need to move on?” I tried to tamp down the hurt I felt at the impending rebuke. The question had come out a bit more terse than it should have, aimed at any of the power players surrounding me. But I couldn’t back down, so I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. I couldn’t stare down the king—the alpha of alphas—but I looked as close to his eyes as I dared.

  “Brave little wolf,” he rumbled with what seemed almost like… approval? A slight lift of his lip preceded his continuation. “No, Scarlet, we protect our own here. And make no mistake, little one, you are ours. Seth cannot have you.” By the last few words, his voice was little more than a growl. I wasn’t sure if it was protectiveness over me or hatred of Seth.

  “Scarlet. Red. What is it with color descriptions?” I asked with narrowed eyes shooting around the room.

  “You wear the color so proudly, how can we not use its hue to describe you?” the lion answered almost lazily.

  I’d take either at this point.

  “Hunter here tells me you show great promise. That you may be suited for life as a Sentinel,” he continued with a lazy acknowledgement in Jason’s direction to his left.

  My jaw was now officially unhinged, most likely dragging on the floor. “But he doesn’t even like me,” all that escaped my brain to tumble from my loose lips. “Why—what?”

  My mind fuzz finally allowed my eyes to skip from the golden god to land squarely on the silent Sentinel I’d come to—kind of—know. I just couldn’t r
econcile the compliment with my experiences with Jason.

  “What does that mean?” Looking at the too-gorgeous-for-his-own-good—or mine—wolf Shifter made too many questions swirl around my still-traumatized mind, so I shared my confusion with the other faces scattered around the room. Every one of them met my eyes, most even giving some small sign of affirmation. A smile. A dipped chin. Even just a twinkle of acceptance.

  Gloria was the exception, choosing instead to narrow those shrewd peepers at me. She was not easy to win over, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Her aura was hard to read, but there was a cloudiness that made me think there were… layers, at the least. I wasn’t sure that I would want to be in her good graces. I had a feeling our interests didn’t line up.

  Finally, someone—the king again—decided I’d had enough time to gawk. “It means that should you like to continue your training with The Hunter, it will be to further your training as a Sentinel for this town. We have already spoken with Marie at the Archives of your run-in and subsequent need for medical attention. Also, of our intention for your training.”

  In short: If you want to stay, you will protect the town. Message received, Oh-Golden-One.

  I nodded thoughtfully. Sounded reasonable. In theory.

  “I’m in.” I needed this. They needed me, too, and they knew it. I knew that they knew it, but did they know that I knew that they knew? Ha! The twisted paths our minds go down in stressful events. “What is the plan? The coven is threatening you because you’re housing me. If you’re not giving me up, what measures are being taken to ensure they can’t torture or kill anyone else?”

  Ryan unfolded himself languidly from his wingback chair and prowled—that is the only acceptable word—toward where I still stood on the far side of the room. It wasn’t only his presence that was enormous. The man was easily six-and-a-half feet tall and about as broad as a tank. Everything about him spoke of coiled and restrained power. But could a man that big be truly useful in a fight?