by Waters, Carl
“What can I do, Mother? What do you need? You must tell me.”
“My bed,” Angeline whispered. “And for the sake of my life, tell your sister to be quiet. I must speak with both of you.”
“Alison, enough of your shrieking!” Adela snapped. “Mother requires our help. Shut your mouth, girl!”
Alison abruptly grew quiet, and Angeline could hear a wet sniffle in the darkness. Then the younger girl stepped forward, her face red and blotchy, and crouched down to slide her hands under her mother’s arms.
“To her bed,” Adela said quietly. “She needs rest.”
The two girls lifted Angeline as best they could and supported her as she staggered toward the bed. When she was finally laid out on the stack of furs, Adela rushed to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with more rags, hot water, and a few packets of herbs. She began to doctor the wound in Angeline’s side while Alison dropped into a chair, clutched Angeline’s hand, and began to sob again.
“Mother, you cannot die!” she cried. “You cannot leave us here alone! What will we do? How will we survive?”
“She won’t die,” Adela snapped. “Not while I still breathe.”
Angeline wheezed a gentle laugh and heard the hood echoing the sentiment. No, it did not want her to die, and she could feel it attempting to infuse its strength into her body. And perhaps it was right, she realized; perhaps she would recover. But her strength was gone. She would not fight werewolves or vampires again.
She looked at Adela, who bent over the wound with calm intensity, willing her mother to live. Then she glanced at Alison. The girl was fearful and self-centered, even in this moment, and suddenly Angeline wondered how she’d never seen it before. Alison could never be the Red Hood. She did not have the moral fiber for it.
Adela is the only choice, she thought. Regardless of the outcome, regardless of the effect it would have on Alison, Adela was the only one who would do. The hood hummed against her in agreement, and she knew at that moment that the choice was made.
She just hoped she lived long enough to train the girl adequately, and see the hood successfully passed. Behind her, against the bed, the hood hummed again.
Yes, she thought. She would live long enough to fulfill that mission. And Adela would have a long, successful reign as Red Hood. Angeline herself would see to it.
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Also by Carl Waters
Little Red Riding Hood: Werewolf Slayer (Book 1)
Call of the Wild Werewolf
Dr. Jekyll and the Werewolf, Mr. Hyde
Burning Uncle Tom’s Cabin
About the Author
Carl Waters, born and raised in Miami, Florida, grew up reading comic books and dreamed of being a new kind of superhero. He graduated with a bachelor's degree from the University of Miami and moved to Atlanta, Georgia, where he now lives with his daughter.
Waters never forgot his childhood dreams, which over the years transformed into a desire to create new heroes, particularly African-American male heroes, through writing. His debut offering was Burning Uncle Tom's Cabin, the first book in a series that reimagines Harriet Beecher Stowe's classic novel, featuring strong characters who break out of the old stereotypes.
www.CarlWaters.com
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