Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

  The wary glances from the villagers made loneliness swell within her. Out of reflex, she grasped the small oval locket hanging loosely beneath her nightgown, and thought of her mother.

  She let her feet carry her down the street, past the deserted training ground. Wind whistled through the archery targets and sparring dummies. Moist air from the small fountain in front of the village hall made Redlynn's gown cling to her legs. She glanced sideways at the village council, who gathered in the doorway of the building that served as school, church and meeting house. They watched her go.

  Why did she stay? She asked herself for the millionth time. Why couldn't she just find a new place? A better place? She knew the answer all too well. She'd promised her mother. Redlynn hiccuped a sob and turned from the council's gaze, unwilling to let them witness her shame.

  Reaching her wood-and-thatched home, the sounds of the village chatter died away. She walked in the still-open door.

  "Dammit!" The fire had gone out. She hurled her sword across the front room, leaving it stuck into the wall of her bedroom. She slammed the front door behind her.

  Snatching up the fire poker, she stabbed at the crumbling log; sparks swirled up into the flue. Redlynn ignored her quivering chin and concentrated all her efforts into teasing the fire alight. Tears threatened to spill, but she refused to free them. She wouldn't show more weakness. She would swallow it down until the right time, and then she'd get revenge.

  The fire caught. Redlynn threw down the poker and grabbed her red cloak from the hook, wrapping it over her shoulders. With trembling fingers, she stripped off her muddy stockings, tossing them into the water basin to soak. Anya's blood caked Redlynn's hands and gown.

  Redlynn tied her long, red hair up in a leather strap, pushed the sticky nightgown down her body to the floor, and plunged her hands into the water bucket. She scrubbed her flesh from under her cloak, with her bloodied gown. She couldn't scrub hard enough; the metallic scent of iron filled her senses.

  Biting her cheek, she tried to stop the nausea from taking over. Blood never affected her in battle; when every piece of her was fighting for her life, nothing else mattered. But given more mundane circumstances, the scent and the texture of it, the fact that it was Anya's, caused her to almost faint. She grabbed the table where the wash basin sat, trying to keep herself steady. When the darkness receded from her vision, she threw the gown into the basin.

  Shivering, she hurried to her bedroom. She dropped her cloak and pulled on a clean tunic. Looking down, she spotted another of her flaws. A purple birthmark, shaped like a wolf, above her left breast. Tonight the heavy burdens of her life seemed to be piling on top of her.

  Redlynn shoved her legs into her breeches and noticed her mother's bow leaning against the wall.

  How many Weres had her mother and grandmother taken down with that bow? Her lineage went all the way back to the first Sister herself. Were hunting was in her blood. Not this pitiful existence she now lived. Her Sisterhood sword, with the wolf's head handle and ruby eyes, hung still lodged in the wall. She stared at the sword, and heat rushed into her chest. She knew what she must do.

  She had to kill the beast responsible for ordering the kidnapping of the girls, and the death of Anya. She needed to drench her sword in the blood of the Were King. To feel the sweet satisfaction of vengeance as she ran him through.

  Redlynn grabbed the bow, quiver, cloak and her bag. Filling the bag to the brim with herbs, clothes, food and everything else she might need for her trek, she looked around the home that she and her mother had built with their bare hands. All the pieces of her mother's life hung around her. She clutched her locket again as her heart squeezed, remembering the past.

  The buckskin satchel her mother had used for her midwife visits. Her mother's tea cup set, adorned with giant yellow sungold flowers, passed down for generations. The wicker rocking chair that her mother had sat in to sing, knit, and tell stories to Redlynn.

  Come on. Be optimistic. You might not die. Redlynn snorted and reminded herself that she wasn't the optimistic type.

  When the Head of the Order had first founded the village decades ago, there'd been over sixty members of the Sisterhood. The Sisters used to hunt the Weres nightly. Now only a handful of active-duty Sisters spent their time as the village guard, trying to fend off the attacks. It had to end. She wouldn't waste away in this hellhole any longer. Redlynn strode to the wall in her bedroom, yanked down her sword, and set it with her pack.

  Her mind was made up. She'd had enough. Her promise to her mother that she'd protect the village wasn't being fulfilled by sitting on her rear, waiting for the Weres to attack. She was sick of girls being taken, never to be heard from again. But Redlynn knew better than to try and fool herself. She wasn't doing this for the villagers; she was doing this for Anya, for her mother. For herself.

  Just a few more hours and she'd shed the last of her tears while she cleansed Anya, lock away her sadness deep inside, and allow the anger to take over. Tomorrow she'd become like the Sisters of old. No longer would she wait around for the Weres to attack. She'd raid their caves and drive them out. She'd become Red, The Werewolf Hunter.

  "Hey Red," said Yanti, in her cheerful ten-year-old voice. "I came to see if you were okay."

  Redlynn pushed past her, closed the front door, and stepped down onto the frosty dirt road. "Yanti, I don't have time today. I'm sorry."

  "Oh."

  The sound of Yanti's defeated voice made Redlynn stop in her tracks.

  "I brought you this." Yanti held out a small basket. "I figured you wouldn't have time for breakfast."

  Way to go, Redlynn. Make the kiddies cry. Redlynn laid her hand on Yanti's shoulder. Yanti continued to look at the basket. She used her fist to lift the girl's chin and gave Yanti a small smile. "Thank you. If you leave it on my table, I'll eat it when I'm done."

  "Okay." Yanti pushed her hair behind her ear.

  "Then you run off to school and training. I don't want you wandering about today. Today is a weeping day."

  "I'll head straight there, Red, I promise." Yanti smiled again. "I want to be the Head of the Order someday and wear the red stone necklace, like Lillith's." Yanti scrunched up her face. "Red, why aren't you the Head of the Sisterhood, like your grandmother?"

  Redlynn's eye twitched. "There's more to being the Head of the Sisterhood than just wearing pretty things and living in a nice home, you know."

  "I know, but the necklace is so shiny. And she has a matching mirror, have you seen it?"

  A chill raced up Redlynn's spine. "Where did you see it?"

  "She was sick a few months back, and my mother had me take her some broth. It was sitting on her nightstand. It must be pretty important to her, because when I tried to touch it, she yelled at me and told me to get out. Said it was a present from a special admirer, and no one could touch it but her."

  Redlynn swallowed hard. "Off to school."

  Yanti smiled and headed into Redlynn's house, then ran back out. "Bye, Red!" she called. "I'm gonna be just like you someday!"

  Redlynn shivered. Yanti deserved to be a mother, married to a wealthy farmer, passing on her golden curls and green eyes to a brood of chubby children, far from the death and despair of Volkzene. And if Yanti and Redlynn were lucky, she'd be able to do just that. All she needed was for Redlynn to succeed in killing the Were King. Redlynn's chest tightened as Mrs. Cantrel's words from the night before hit her again.

  And then, maybe if she succeeded, the villagers would stop using her for protection only, and finally accept her as one of their own, despite her strange eyes.

  Chapter Two

  Redlynn tread wearily to the town hall. The wind still whistled through the main muddy road of the village. She pulled her cloak close and passed the Borwen's pig pen. The village felt quiet and lonely at the early hour. A Sister exited her house, stopped short when she saw Redlynn, gave a weak smile, and then hurried toward the village hall. Redlynn sniffed, but said nothing. She was used t
o it. The village wanted her there, only because of who her ancestors were, and her expertise with a bow and sword.

  A thatcher loaded up his wagon, not sparing her a moment's glance. A group of young farmers stomped silently through the muddy streets toward their plots of land, south of the village wall.

  At the village center, Redlynn pushed open the large doors to the Sisterhood headquarters. The scent of candle wax and incense wafted out. Anya's body lay on the altar, atop a white linen sheet. Tall beeswax candles lined the walls, and robed sisters crushed Volkzene flowers into a paste. She approached Anya without a word, her stomach roiling with acid. Everyone stopped moving. She unfastened her cloak and set it on a wooden bench.

  Redlynn's mind flooded with the memory of Anya's last words, and she swallowed hard.

  "I can do this, Red. Trust me."

  Lillith moved forward in her cream ceremonial garb, the Sisterhood Bible in her hands. Three more Sisters joined her and began the Song of Lament to accompany Lillith's sacred prayer. Redlynn let the words drift away, concentrating only on the task at hand. Picking up the bone needle and white thread, she began at Anya's throat. She blinked rapidly, trying to stop her tears. She couldn't mess this up. Anya deserved the best.

  With each piercing of the skin, Redlynn begged for Anya's forgiveness. For each tug of the thread, she swore to avenge her friend's death. She memorized every detail of Anya's wounds. Every bite, every tear. Counting them, till they all blended together in the blur of her tears.

  When she finished, Redlynn took the Volkzene paste and pressed the crushed flowers into Anya's wounds, remembering each laugh, each smile, each moment of friendship they'd shared. The way Anya used to push her hair behind her ear. The determination in her eyes as she aimed her bow. The nights of holding Redlynn as she'd sobbed over the death of her mother.

  The drone of Lillith's voice stopped after what seemed like an eternity. Redlynn reached down, kissed Anya one last time.

  "Sleep well, my sister. May you find peace on your new journey. My sword will bring thee vengeance, and my heart hold thee always."

  Redlynn didn't even see the cloth that she wrapped Anya in through her stream of tears.

  Redlynn couldn't cope with the burning of her best friend's body. To smell the flesh and hair as it charred. So instead, with eyes drained of water, like the Daemon Wastelands, she went home and collected her things. Her heart heavy, she looked at her mother's portrait. Redlynn wondered once more why she resembled neither of her parents.

  Keeping to the shadows of her neighboring houses, she reached the dirt road and crossed through the wooden perimeter fencing. No one stood guard, again. So few Sisters remained in the village. Redlynn remembered a time when the Sisters lived to be eighty or longer. Now few of the Sisters lived beyond fifty, if they survived childbirth. For a moment she wondered if she was doing the right thing. But she reminded herself that if she succeeded, they'd be safe indefinitely.

  She turned, heading across the green toward the woods. Drawing near the tree line, she heard someone rushing up behind her.

  "Red!"

  She'd kept moving, ignoring Lillith's call.

  "Redlynn! As Head of the Order, I command you to stop now!"

  Redlynn halted and turned. Lillith's ample chest heaved up and down.

  "Where do you think you are going?" Lillith tried to catch her breath.

  "Where does it look like?"

  "I have forbidden anyone from entering the forest. My rules are law here."

  She said nothing. Redlynn wasn't known for living by Lillith's many rules. Unlike the other villagers, Redlynn wasn't afraid of Lillith. With Anya gone now, she had nothing to lose.

  "We need you here for protection," Lillith continued.

  "You can do it."

  "Me? I'm the Head of the Order; who'd lead us if I die?"

  Redlynn's head snapped up and she met Lillith's stare. The other woman glanced away. Her mother should've been the Head of the Sisterhood, like her ancestors before her. But due to Lillith's scheming, her mother had been discredited. She didn't know all the details. The denouncement had been held in a secret Sisterhood meeting, before Redlynn had become a member. But she'd seen firsthand how it'd crushed and ultimately killed her mother.

  "Then I guess you better start training the men to protect their daughters," Redlynn bit out.

  "Surely you jest? It's been the Sisterhood. Always the Sisterhood. For as long as there have been Weres, there have been Sisters. They go hand in hand, they—" Lillith stopped short.

  Redlynn studied Lillith's face, and Lillith glanced away again. That nagging feeling that Lillith was keeping something from the Sisterhood stirred within Redlynn once more.

  Pulling herself to her full height, Lillith tilted her chin up and glared at Redlynn. "If you leave now, you'll be cast out."

  Redlynn smiled slightly. There it was. The final ultimatum. She wondered how long Lillith had dreamed of this moment. The threat meant nothing to Redlynn though. If she killed the King of the Weres, she'd be able to finally leave Volkzene and make a new life for herself. And if she didn't...

  "I can live with that." Redlynn walked into the forest.

  Lillith huffed behind her. "I mean it, Red! If you go, don't come back."

  "Maybe you can find out how the Weres got into the village without the alarm going off while I'm gone," she yelled over her shoulder.

  ***

  Lillith ran into her moderate stone home and closed the door, locking it behind herself. She threw her hands over her face and screamed. What was she going to do? Red had defied her and gone into the woods. Her job was to keep the Sisters away from the wolves, and she'd failed.

  She looked around at her fine things. Her beautiful furniture, her fine linens, her china. All things afforded her because of her position. They'd quickly be ripped away if she didn't keep her part of the bargain. The people she answered to were not ones to be trifled with.

  They'd shown her the way to seize control of the Sisterhood, but it was with the promise that she'd keep the Sisters contained. And she had, with one exception.

  Lillith forced herself to focus and weigh her options. She could tell Dragos, and suffer the punishment. She could follow Red and kill her. Or she could wait and see. The first option was sure to be a death sentence, and the second might be, as well.

  She blew out a heavy breath. She'd just have to wait. It was possible that Red would find nothing, or that she'd be killed by the wolves. Possibly something worse. Lillith's eyes narrowed. Something worse...

  She smiled to herself and walked quickly into her bedroom. An ornate mirror sat on her dressing table. She settled into a chair in front of the mirror and pressed the inlaid red stone. It glowed brightly. The surface of the mirror shimmered.

  "Terona, of Tanah Darah," she commanded.

  ***

  Wolvenglen Forest warmed in the early spring light. A layer of dew laded the thick brush. The scent of moist dirt and leaves soothed Redlynn as always. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed running through the trees till that moment. In her loneliness they comforted her like old friends. She'd been forbidden from coming into the woods since Lillith had taken over as Head of the Order.

  Redlynn's chest tightened and she clutched her locket, as she adjusted to the flood of childhood memories: her mother, laughing and singing while picking herbs, teaching her which berries to pick, or how to take leaves without damaging the plants, lying on a bed of moss as sunlight warmed her skin, the taste of cool river water, a glimpse of her mother hugging someone.

  Redlynn hopped over a rock, heading toward the northwest area of Wolvenglen Forest. Once as a girl she'd tracked a group of Weres, led by a giant red one. She'd been hunting while her mother gathered herbs, and she'd spotted them near the caves. She was counting on them still subsisting there.

  Redlynn trudged through ancient redwoods, stopping an hour later to fill her satchel with mushrooms and berries. She sucked the juice out of the sweet, pu
rple draepons. The sun trickling down through the dense foliage, lighting on delicate violets sprouting from the ground. A blue-green hummingbird darted back and forth before continuing on.

  A doe with her baby froze yards from where Redlynn sat. The doe's ears swiveled and her tail flicked, sensing danger. After a last hesitation, the doe fled from her presence.

  "They don't like me, Mama." She'd been gathering herbs one morning, when she was six.

  "Not true, Red. They fear the queen of the forest, as all animals should," her mother replied.

  There was a snap behind her. Stiffening, Redlynn removed her bow from her back in a fluid movement and notched an arrow. Her bowstring groaned from being pulled taut.

  Another twig snapped and she trained her sight ten degrees to the right. The leaves rustled on a plumor bush. Her bicep quaked with the strain of steadying her string. Breathing slow and deep, she held still, waiting for the attack. Adrenaline coursed through her body.

  Closer... closer... wait for it... wait... A warthog thundered through the brush and charged. She loosed the arrow and it flew true, hitting the beast in the eye. The animal squealed and crashed to a halt, mere feet from where she stood.

  Redlynn blew out a ragged breath, her blood thumping in her ears. A warthog. Not even close to a Were. If she were nearer to home, she'd drag it to the village and have food enough for months. As it was, she'd have to leave it. What a waste. She set her foot on the animal's shoulder for leverage and yanked the arrow free. Wiping the blood on her boot, she stuck the arrow into her quiver.

  At nightfall Redlynn searched for a secure place to sleep. A tree with a hollow trunk and a slightly clear area around it caught her eye. She made her way over and peered inside. If she curled up some, it'd be large enough. Redlynn shook off her gear and pushed it through the hole, then unstrapped her bedroll and shoved it in, as well.