by J. E. Taylor
Red
A Fractured Fairy Tale
J.E. Taylor
Red © August 2017 J.E. Taylor
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This is a work 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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© 2017 Cover Art by Cora Graphics
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Red
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
About J.E. Taylor
Red
What happens when a werewolf hunter falls for her prey?
Red Locklear regularly hunts all manner of woodland prey, but her favorite kill is the beast that tore her parents apart when she was a little girl.
The werewolf.
Now that Red is all grown up, these horrid creatures are terrorizing Dakota Territory once again. As a member of the elite Dakota Guard, Red has a duty to extinguish the life of every last wolf she sees. Failing to do so is a death sentence.
When her grandmother doesn’t come back from a foraging run, Red dons her quiver of silver arrows and breaks town law, heading into the forest after sunset to search for her.
The dark woods test her hunting skills as well as her loyalty to the Dakota Guard, and she’s left wondering if there is any way out of this alive.
Fans of Once Upon a Time and Grimm will devour RED.
Chapter 1
“We haven’t heard from her in months,” Pa said, unaware I was just outside my parents’ bedroom door.
“You have told me a thousand times how dangerous those mountain passes can be,” my mother said in her exasperated voice. “What if we get caught in a storm?”
“The almanac said we have at least another six weeks before the winter rolls in. So now is the perfect time to visit. Besides, my mother hasn’t even met Ruby yet. Don’t you think it’s time?”
A sigh followed.
I coughed, covering my mouth a second too late, and silence settled on the bedroom. The creak of springs sounded, and the soft swish of fabric against the floorboards crossed closer to the door. I darted my eyes around the darkened hallway for a place to hide, my nightmare that brought me to their room forgotten in my panic of being caught listening to their private conversation.
My father opened the door before I could escape into the shadows. “Ruby, what are you doing out of bed?”
“I had a nightmare,” I whispered and studied the shadows in the wood grain on the floor.
“You need as much rest as you can get before we head to your grandmother’s house in the morning. We need you sharp on this trip. Otherwise, we might not be eating for the next few days,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes at him and glanced at my mother on the bed. The dim lantern illuminated her face and made her deep auburn hair blend into the wood frame of their bed.
“I can hit a squirrel at fifty yards while sleep walking,” I said when I brought my gaze back to Pa. Sleep had nothing to do with the quality of my hunting skills.
Pa put his hand on my back with a chuckle and led me back to my bedroom. “I still want you to rest. Dakota is a long ride, and if you are too tired to aim straight, we will be a very hungry family when we get to your grandmother’s house.”
“Pa?” I asked as he tucked me tightly under the covers. “My teacher, Mrs. Kettle, said there are monsters in the woods surrounding Dakota.”
His smile faded and he blinked like he had an eyelash in his eye. “Why would your teacher tell you that?”
I shrugged. “We were studying the territories bordering Weber, and she explained the trails to get to the towns in each territory. She went clockwise starting with Alberta to the northeast and ended with Dakota to the northwest. She said the road to Dakota is swallowed by a forest full of monsters.”
He let out another chuckle, but this time it wasn’t amused. “It’s bear country, sweetie.”
He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek, leaving me without a real answer. Weber was bear country, too. No one said Weber was full of monsters. The teacher had said the road wound over the mountains and through a river before it disappeared into woods as dark as night. I remember the flash in her eyes and the whisper she likely hadn’t intended for anyone to hear.
I didn’t think she was talking about bears. My heart clanged at the thought of traveling through a monster-filled forest.
I tried to push the thoughts away and rest like my father asked, but the images that kept running past my eyelids were worse than the original nightmare that had woken me.
I RODE IN FRONT OF my mother on the edge of Bessy’s saddle. While the old mare made for a smooth ride, I still ended the day stiff from the journey. My brother, Roy, got the better end of the deal. He got to ride with Pa on Midnight, the fastest steed in all of Weber territory.
Pa never let me ride that horse. He always said I wasn’t old enough or big enough to stay on his back, especially when he went into a full gallop.
Figures. My brother had all the luck. At least he didn’t have my skills with a bow and arrow. I could shoot rings around him and proved it with a plump rabbit for dinner on the first night and three squirrels the second night.
The third night, we slept in sight of the Dakota border where the road faded into the trees. I was thankful we stopped outside of those woods. On the plateau where we camped, wild life was scarce, so all we ended up with for dinner was a rattlesnake that Pa killed earlier in the day.
The fire crackled, and my gaze kept drifting to the forest in the distance. Neither the height of the mountains nor the icy chill of the river we had crossed brought forth the same level of trepidation as that dense wall of trees. I shivered, wrapping my arms tighter around my chest. I snuggled into the blankets and turned to face the fire, dismissing the thought of monsters.
“CAN I RIDE MIDNIGHT today?” I asked.
“I don’t think so, Ruby.”
My stomach clenched and so did my teeth. My father attached the travel sack to Midnight’s saddle and glanced at me. He must have seen my aggravation because he offered me the same old story.
“You’re not big enough to handle Midnight, sweetheart.”
“Roy got to ride him when he was eight,” I said.
“Roy was bigger than you are at eight. Go help your mother pack the rest of our things.”
I stomped away loud enough to make my dissatisfaction known, but not enough to get a swat on my butt for my behavior. I didn’t talk, even as we approached the thick fo
rest. The path seemed to disappear and I shivered.
“We only have two more days before we can bask in the warmth of your grandmother’s fireplace,” Pa said and locked his gaze with mine before he coaxed Midnight into the lead.
Roy turned and gave me a smile, like going into monster-filled woods was a cool thing. I knew with a cold certainty that I wasn’t getting a lick of sleep tonight.
Every branch snap jerked my form, and I struggled to see what was beyond the narrow channel. I constantly scanned the deep green brush like I was hunting for small game, but in reality, I was searching for creatures with a more violent nature.
When we finally trotted into a small clearing and dismounted, Roy took the horses and tied them to the nearest branch. My father handed me the bow and arrow. With the weapon in my hand, all the deep fear tightening my muscles gave way to a calmness I welcomed. I crept around the perimeter of our little circle while my parents started to set up camp.
I caught movement on my right. Before my brain registered the animal, my arrow had pinned the rabbit to the earth. A clean head shot. I grinned, picking it up and bringing it back to the family with a real sense of accomplishment.
Clouds rolled in before the last light bled from the sky, and the full moon seemed to play hide-and-seek in the foggy cover. We ate in silence, savoring the tender meat and licking the juices from our fingers.
With full bellies, we settled into our makeshift beds and gave in to the exhaustion. I stared at what I could see of the man on the moon until my eyes could no longer stay open.
The horses whinnying pulled me from sleep. I darted my gaze at the shadows made by the fire, and I shivered in the cold night air despite the heavy blanket draped over me. The hairs on my arms prickled as the horses grew more restless. Something had them spooked.
I patted my father’s leg. “Pa,” I whispered on the still air. My heart picked up the pace.
“Get some more sleep, Ruby,” he muttered.
“Something is spooking the horses.”
My father rolled over and glanced at me and then the horses beyond me. A crease appeared between his eyes, but he gave me a reassuring smile before he gently shook my mother awake.
“I think we’ve had enough rest,” he whispered.
My mother looked at him, blinked, and then her eyes widened. It was as if a lightning bolt shot out of the sky and catapulted her to her feet. The instant she was standing, she started gathering our things as if the woods were burning down around us.
“Roy, go get the horses.” My father swatted my brother’s back. “Ruby, you go stay by your mother.”
My brother got to his unsteady feet. He yawned and shuffled to the tree where we had Midnight and Bessy tied up.
I stepped towards my mother, close enough to the dying fire to feel the heat radiating from the coals. Her arms wrapped around me tighter than usual while my brother pulled the horses closer. Their hoofs stomped the ground in nervous beats.
My father hoisted me onto the back of Midnight, and my heart jumped into my throat. Alarms sounded in my head when Pa told Roy to hop on Midnight with me. Roy handed Bessy’s reins to my mother and stepped towards where Pa held onto Midnight’s bridle.
Roy only made it halfway across the clearing when the monsters attacked. A clawed paw severed my brother’s throat. A plume of blood shot from the wound, dousing the fire. He didn’t have time to scream. I would never forget my mother’s cry. The pitch started as one of loss, but soon morphed to a sharp pain-filled wail.
My father smacked Midnight’s flank just before a wall of grey fur took him down. The stallion flew forward. I grabbed for the horse’s mane to catch my balance.
Midnight’s speed was no match for the massive wolves that pursued me. Their radiant blue eyes pierced the darkness as the gap widened until I couldn’t hear their snarls over the throbbing beat of my heart in my own ears. My harsh sobs filled the woods along with the steady pounding of Midnight’s hoofs. He didn’t slow until we arrived at Dakota’s darkened town center.
Monsters did exist, and I would never forget their murderous eyes or their equally heinous growls.
Chapter 2
“I am perfectly capable of going foraging on my own. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be going on that hunting trip with the rest of the archers?” Grandmother asked me as she tidied up the breakfast nook. She turned, her silver corkscrew curls falling over her shoulders, and leveled her grey-eyed stare in my direction. One silver eyebrow rose.
My grandmother was the epitome of strength and grace, even though she was nearing her eighties. The woman was feisty and brave, everything I hoped I would be if I was blessed enough to reach her age.
I shifted my stance and crossed to the table with the breakfast plates. “I know you’re capable, Gram. But it’s really not safe out there. Not with the werewolves terrorizing Dakota.”
“Pft.” She waved me off and took the seat across from me.
“I’m serious. We lost Mickey last week, and those bastards are getting bolder by the minute.”
She waggled her finger at me. “Watch your language, girl.” She dug into the eggs in the center serving bowl.
I sighed and studied Gram’s coveted curls. I envied her hair. Mine fell straight as one of the arrows in my quiver, and the color was the cause of my nickname.
Red.
And not the beautiful auburn red my mother had had. No, it was more akin to a forest fire. I had a hell of a time blending in the forest for most seasons, but now that fall was upon us, my hair resembled the burnt orange of the leaves.
“You really should go with someone else, Gram,” I said and focused on the food instead of her perfect hair.
“They need you on the hunt. You know you are more skilled than anyone else in this town,” she said and took a bite of her breakfast.
Gram had no idea how deep on the side of trouble I was with the Dakota Guard. If I missed another hunt, the head of the Guard, Remy Steele, warned that I would have to turn in my archer’s bow. It was the one thing I was good at, and losing that would be like losing my family all over again.
But with the audacity of this particular pack, the idea of having my grandmother out in the berry patch alone didn’t settle well. If I stayed and protected her instead of doing my job, I would lose the only status I had in this town. If I let her go alone, I could lose the only family I had left.
My chest tightened, and I sent her a strained smile, waving her off with a sheepish nod. I had a job to do, and the town was counting on me.
Dakota didn’t have any outside help. We were too secluded in the deep northwestern forest. Mountains blocked us to the east, and ravines blocked us to the west. The nearest settlement was a good three-day ride at a full gallop through treacherous mountain terrain.
And Dakota was under siege for the first time since my parents died.
Sure, we had had rogue werewolves in the area over the years, but since that horrible night when I was eight, there hadn’t been a pack in the vicinity.
Until now. And they were a nasty bunch.
With the fading of the summer heat, people started disappearing. The ones we found were mauled beyond what the local bears usually did. It wasn’t until we heard the howls in the distance that we knew what was killing the town’s people.
Thirteen years of training had led me to this moment, and my grandmother wasn’t going to let me babysit her when I could be out there taking down the monsters. One glance from her told me I was right.
“You need to go.” She didn’t leave me any choice.
“Fine,” I mumbled despite the discomfort scraping my skin. I ignored the warning bells and dug into my food.
We ate the rest of the meal in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Mine tumbled between what I had to do today and the fall harvest. I wasn’t sure if Travis was going to ask me to the town dance or not. I secretly hoped he would move on. While he was the closest friend I had, there just were no sparks in it for me. He, on the
other hand, had hinted endlessly to me about a future. I wasn’t ready to settle down. At least not with anyone from Dakota.
Gram cleared her throat. “You were about a million miles away, weren’t you?”
Heat filled my cheeks, and I let out a laugh. “Yes, sorry.”
“Thinking about your parents?” she asked.
I flinched at the mention of my family. “No. Travis.” I didn’t expand any further, but my tone said it all.
Gram cocked her head like one of the neighborhood puppies. “What’s wrong with Travis?”
“Nothing. He just isn’t... you know...” I said and shrugged as I picked at the food on my plate.
“He has become such a sweet man,” she said.
I rolled my eyes.
Gram was a fan of Travis’s and had been for as long as I could remember. Too bad it didn’t change the way I felt. I took another bite of breakfast.
Gram opened her mouth to ask me another question, and I raised my hand, stopping her.
“I don’t want to talk about Travis, okay?”
Gram inhaled enough to expand her chest in that manner that announced her disappointment. “Okay,” she whispered, and we both focused on the plates in front of us.
After we finished, I cleaned the dishes in the basin and dried and stored them back in the pantry before dumping the dishwater out the window.
I crossed to the chair and pulled on my vest, hoping it would be enough to keep me warm in the cool fall air. I hated hunting with my thick wool coat that hung on the rack in the corner. With my quiver over my shoulder, I headed for the door.
“Ruby?”
I glanced back at Gram.
“Be careful,” she said and gave me a small smile of support. The worry lines at the corners of her eyes belied the smile.
“I always am. You be careful, too, Gram.”
She patted the sheath on her belt with a nod and finished gathering her basket for foraging berries in the grove. As I walked away from our cabin, a lump formed in the back of my throat. The same lump that always accompanied me on my way to the Guard, as if this could be the last time we see each other.