Red: A Fractured Fairy Tale (Fractured Fairy Tales Book 1)

by J. E. Taylor

  “No,” I said and shoved the shackles back at him. I saw what silver did to Lucas. I wasn’t going to do that to him.

  “Then he dies.” Both Remy’s tone and his hard stare told me he meant business.

  “It’s okay, Ruby,” Lucas said from behind me. “It won’t kill me.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “That’s not the point,” I said and turned back to Remy. “He isn’t a criminal.”

  “But he is a werewolf,” he said. “And do I have to remind you of how many laws you’ve broken? Put those things on now.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I’ll do it on one condition.”

  “You have no bartering power here, little girl,” Remy said.

  “Honor Gram’s wishes.” I stared him down.

  “Do you see me trying to kill him at the moment?” He waved towards Lucas.

  “I’m talking about Gram’s final resting wishes. You of all people should know what she wanted.”

  He blinked and took a small step backwards. “We are burying her,” he said like that was the only choice.

  I shook my head. “That’s not what she wanted.”

  “She still talked about being turned to dust?” he asked.

  “Yes. It’s called cremation, and that’s what she wanted,” I said. “I’ll shackle us together if you promise me that you will make sure Gram’s wishes are honored.”

  His lips pressed together, and he glared at me. “Put the cuffs on.”

  I stood taller. “Promise me,” I said with the same feral intensity.

  He stepped close enough for me to smell the faded scent of cigar on his clothing, and he grabbed the shackles from my hand. After slapping one on my wrist, he snapped the other cuff around Lucas’s.

  Lucas hissed in pain as the silver burned his skin. Remy crouched down and clasped my right ankle and Lucas’s left ankle together. At least the ankle shackle had the fabric of his pants as a buffer. When Remy stood, he grabbed the chain between our wrists and yanked us forward.

  “Depending upon what the judge renders, you may be in the plot next to your grandmother,” he snarled as he marched us out of the corral.

  Chapter 11

  The moon shone through the window of the cell I sat in. Lucas was still tethered to the silver cuff, and his harried breathing and occasional stifled groans echoed in the dark chamber of the jail. The binds holding him also prohibited him from shifting, and based on the sounds he made, it must have hurt something fierce.

  Remy had left us here so he could attend my grandmother’s funeral. The entire town would pay their respects, but I wasn’t allowed to be there for either the service or the gathering that always followed a funeral here in Dakota. My heart ached. I wouldn’t be able to say a proper goodbye.

  I wondered if Remy would honor Gram’s wishes. I wondered what the town would do to me, and I feared what they would do to Lucas.

  I glanced through the bars at him and sighed. As if sensing my gaze, he looked up, his bright blue eyes glowing in the dim light of the moon.

  “I’m sorry. I should have left last night,” he said in a weak voice.

  “This isn’t your fault. I asked you to stay,” I said. If I had let him go, neither of us would be rotting in jail waiting for our trial.

  He closed his eyes and turned away from me. “I should have known better.”

  He leaned his head against the adjoining bars close enough for me to touch him. His thick hair beckoned me, and I reached out, running my fingers through the lush strands. Lucas jerked away and glanced over his shoulder. A crease formed between his eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I, um. I just. I don’t know.” I stumbled on the words, wondering the same thing. His hair was just so... touchable. I shook my head and clasped my hands in my lap. I had no idea what the hell had come over me.

  He slowly turned back around with a sigh. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

  I remained quiet, and when he glanced back, I just raised my eyebrows.

  “You grandmother,” he said with a disappointed lilt. He relaxed into the bars again and let out a soft laugh. “She wasn’t the least bit afraid when I approached her. She got a bit ornery, though, especially when she thought I was in league with the other wolf and toying with her.” He sighed. “She was quite a lady,” he added after a few minutes of silence.

  “Yes, she was.” I lay back on the thin mattress, distancing myself from the need to run my fingers through his thick hair, and ignored the lump that formed in my throat and the sting in my eyes.

  “You’re a lot like her, you know,” Lucas said.

  I wasn’t anything like my grandmother. She had been so strong and so independent and so loved by the townspeople.

  Lucas turned towards the hall just as a shuffle reached my ears.

  “Why?” A gruff voice said from the shadows.

  Travis stepped into the light, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks flushed. He reeked of alcohol, even from this distance. Just the fact he was here after dark said volumes as to his state of mind.

  “Why what?”

  “Why did you allow that thing in your house? In your bedroom?”

  “First of all, that thing has a name. And secondly, he saved Gram from dying alone.”

  “Then you say thank you, and go on your way. You don’t invite the enemy into your bed!”

  “Go home, Travis. You are drunk,” I said. I wasn’t going to have this conversation with him, especially with Lucas in the adjoining cell.

  “I did not sleep with Ruby,” Lucas said.

  My heart twisted. I didn’t need Lucas’s help with this argument. It would only make things worse.

  “I’m not talking to you, so shut up,” Travis growled through the bars, his glare murderous.

  Lucas raised his untethered hand in a sign of withdrawal from the conversation and stretched out on his cot as best he could with his wrist and ankle shackled to the bed. “You know what? You’re right. I should have left after she came home devastated from her grandmother’s death. I should have left her alone to deal with her grief and just thought of myself.”

  “Shut up,” Travis yelled.

  “You’re not helping,” I said to Lucas.

  “I see the way you look at him,” Travis said. “He has you under some sort of spell.”

  I stared at Travis and took a deep breath. “How long have we known each other?”

  “Too long,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  He shuffled outside the bars and kicked the dirt. “No.”

  “Then why don’t you believe me?”

  “Because the girl I know wouldn’t have let a werewolf live.”

  He had a point. Prior to the encounter with my grandmother, I would have put an arrow between the wolf’s eyes without question, but it was my grandmother’s plea that kept me from killing Lucas.

  “What if they are not all bad? What if there are some good ones out there? Ones that don’t kill humans?”

  Travis stepped back into the shadows.

  “What if all our assumptions are wrong?” The fact that I voiced the core issue eating at me since I stowed my bow and arrow away that night was a step in the right direction. But it was also one that made me question my job, my duty to kill without thought, and made me wonder who the actual monsters were.

  “They killed your parents, Red. They kill. That’s what they are created for. To kill.” His words had enough venom to tingle across my skin.

  “That’s what we are trained to do, too.” I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. “We were trained to think they are evil creatures. That their only purpose is to kill humans.” I got to my feet and crossed to where he stood. “We were taught to be just as much of a monster as they are.”

  Travis glared at me through the bars.

  “We were taught wrong,” I added softly.

  “No. You weren’t,” Lucas said, and I spun towards his cage. “Not entirely. Most w
erewolves don’t know how to control their primal urges. A wolf in the wild hunts for food. They don’t discern between humans and animals in that facet. A human turned werewolf is a different story. The venom does something to their minds almost in the same way rabies turns a docile dog into a monster.”

  Travis’s gaze narrowed.

  “Very few can contain the need to destroy. At least that’s what I’ve found in my limited travels,” Lucas added.

  “So why should I believe you are any different?” Travis asked without much hostility.

  Lucas sat up. “If I was one of those things,” he started with a voice filled with disdain, “Ruby and her grandmother would have died on the floor of that ravine.”

  I stared at him and then turned back to Travis. “I know you don’t believe him, or me for that matter. But you are the best tracker in this region. Go find the truth yourself. It’s all out there, at the base of that ravine.”

  His lips pressed together and he shook his head. “Do you understand what is going to happen to you? No one in this town will believe your story. No one,” he whispered, and his eyes filled up with tears. He reached for me through the bars.

  I stepped out of his range. “Then you better go find the truth for yourself.”

  He stared at me and gave a slow nod before turning and disappearing into the shadows. I walked to the cot and lay down again, staring at the ceiling as I processed the conversation.

  “Are you okay?” Lucas said after a while.

  “So, all converted werewolves are monsters?” I glanced over at him.

  “Not all, but most. Especially if they have an alpha that thrives on chaos and murder. It goes without saying that the pack will follow suit.”

  I chewed on a hangnail and studied the ceiling. “And if they don’t?”

  “They are usually exiled or killed if they don’t comply.” Bitterness crept into his voice. “That’s what happened to my father. He still had all his faculties and did not wish to harm humans. If he had, I would have never been born.”

  “Are there others like your father?”

  “I don’t know,” he said softly and met my gaze. “I don’t even know if there are any like me out there. I’m the only one in these parts, at least that’s the impression I’ve gotten, but who knows. Somewhere, there could be a community where humans and werewolves live in harmony, but I have yet to hear of such a thing.”

  “Farmer and dreamer,” I said.

  He gave me a soft smile and a shrug. His eyes still held deep pain, but at least he had gotten control over his audible reaction to the silver.

  Then his smile faded. “What will happen to you?”

  I huffed a laugh and returned my gaze to the ceiling. “If the town finds me guilty, I’ll be put in front of an archery squad before nightfall.”

  Lucas’s eyes slowly widened.

  “Just because they loved my grandmother, doesn’t mean they will spare me from a traitor’s fate.”

  “Traitor?” His voice cracked.

  “Yes. Violating curfew comes with jail time. But allowing a werewolf to live...” I shrugged. “That comes with a death sentence.”

  “That is just as barbaric as pack mentality,” he said.

  The silence between us was stifling, but I wasn’t going to disagree with him.

  “Have you ever...” He turned away before he finished asking the question, like he didn’t want to know the answer.

  “Have I ever been on the firing line?” I finished it for him, and when he wouldn’t look at me, I sighed. “No. I wasn’t old enough to be in the firing line. But I was old enough to bear witness. It haunts me to this day.” I looked out at the moon. “I question just about everything, which has put me in hot water more than a time or two, but I’ve never questioned the purpose of the Guard. We are here to keep Dakota safe. For the record, I still agree with that purpose. It’s a noble pursuit, but I don’t always agree with the manner in which we follow through on it. We can act without mercy.” I shrugged. “We can be barbaric.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “But the wolves we have put down operate under the same umbrella. Without mercy. Without regard to age. Without exception. So mercy has never been warranted.” I closed my eyes. “Until you wandered into that ravine, mercy wasn’t a thing I ever entertained before. I never thought I could actually carry on a conversation with a wolf, never mind find myself...” I bit my tongue. There was no use telling him I was attracted to him in a way I had never experienced.

  He sat up and turned towards me. When he reached through the bars and took my hand in his, my heart started a skipping beat that encompassed my entire chest. His touch was gentle and his fingers smooth, much like his chest had felt under my hand. The skin-to-skin contact dulled my mind and turned my body into a raging inferno of heat. I pulled from his grip, but a small smile toyed on his lips and he glanced at the bars separating us.

  He opened his mouth and then closed it. “Please finish what you were going to say,” he finally said as his gaze locked on mine.

  “Locked in a cell because of a wolf,” I said, avoiding the truth biting every inch of my skin.

  His eyes narrowed and then he lay down on the mattress and closed his eyes, dousing the blue glow lighting the small space. An uncomfortable silence blanketed the cells, and all I could think about was how disappointed my grandmother would have been.

  Chapter 12

  A ruckus in the hallway pulled me out of the doze I had fallen into. I sat up to see the constable shoving a very intoxicated version of Remy into the adjoining cell. Belligerent was an understatement as the head of the Guard spewed slurred vulgarities.

  “What happened?” I asked as Remy fell onto the mattress and immediately began snoring.

  Constable Murphy looked at me and turned to leave.

  “What did Remy do?” I asked again before he disappeared.

  “He desecrated a grave,” the constable said over his shoulder. “And had a bonfire in his backyard.”

  Remy’s fingers were covered in dirt, and soot streaked his cheeks. He must have followed through on Gram’s wishes despite the consequences. I could no longer contain the grief bubbling just below the surface. My throat tightened and I stretched out on the bed, letting tears escape the corners of my eyes.

  Lucas’s fingers clasped mine. His tired blue eyes shined in the dim light as he gave my hand a squeeze.

  Tears flowed and my breath hitched. In the morning light, the reality of our situation settled into every fiber of my body, and with it came an ungodly fear.

  I didn’t want to die, and I certainly didn’t want Lucas to be killed. I wanted to explore whatever had sparked between us, but it was a useless dream. A luxury we would have to forgo because I was fool enough to have asked him to stay.

  “I’m sorry,” Lucas whispered.

  I wiped my face with my free hand and glanced at him through the bars. I couldn’t find the words to tell him this was my fault, that the death he waited for with such grace was my doing. I should have killed him on the spot, it would have been more humane. Instead, I shook my head and stared back at the ceiling through blurred vision.

  The cell brightened as the morning progressed, and my dread manifested in uncontrollable bouts of shivers despite the warmth bathing the cell. It wouldn’t be long before we were paraded through the town to stand in front of the court. Deep in my bones, I knew it was only for show. The sentence wouldn’t alter from those before me. A selfish part of me hoped I would face the firing line first so I wouldn’t have to witness Lucas’s death, but I knew better. They would want me to reflect on my mistakes before they ended my life. They wanted me to taste the bitterness of my choices.

  I closed my eyes and shuddered. Mercy wasn’t in Dakota’s vocabulary where werewolves were concerned. And I couldn’t blame them. I carried that exact mindset the day I went out with Remy and Travis. But that mindset changed sometime during the night in Lucas’s house with Gram.

  Silence blank
eted the cells, and then Remy’s scruffy voice filled the space.

  “Red?”

  I looked over at him, and his bloodshot gaze met mine.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered.

  “Tell you what?”

  He reached into his pocket and dropped a folded piece of paper through the bars. I crossed and picked it up, unfolding it in the light. Gram’s neat handwriting scrawled across the paper. I stared at the words and stepped backwards, dropping the note, like distancing myself would change what Gram had told Remy.

  I stared at the paper as it fluttered to the floor and then locked my gaze with Remy.

  He chuckled. “I gather from your reaction you didn’t know either.”

  My high-pitched laugh confirmed his assessment.

  “It actually explains why you’re the best shot I’ve ever seen, but still, finding out you’re my blood just as you’re facing the firing line?” He rubbed his face and glanced away. “Your grandmother had a sick sense of humor.”

  He swung his legs over the side of the cot and groaned. I turned to Lucas, and his blue eyes sent a shiver through me, adding to the clanging of my heart and the pounding in my temples. My mouth went dry.

  Before I had a chance to truly digest the confession laid out in the note, the constable came down the stairs with a dozen guards, none of which I had ever partnered with on any of our wolf runs.

  Four of them waited at my door while the constable unlocked the cell, and the other eight waited outside Lucas’s cell with their silver daggers drawn. The hatred in their expressions tightened the muscles of my throat.

  “Don’t hurt him,” I said with as much force in my voice as I could muster.

  The only one that acknowledged my order was Seth, one of the older guards, but the look he gave me didn’t settle my nerves. His smile promised pain.

  Lucas got to his feet and braced himself, taking the links of the chain between the silver wristband and the bars. The muscles in his jaw tightened and the stench of burning flesh wafted through the cell.

  “No!” I shouted.

  Four guards grabbed hold of my arms, dragging me out of the cell. Lucas’s door was thrown wide, and the guards filtered in.