chapter 16
The next morning felt like any other. Cool. Full of bright sunlight. The perfect time for camping. A shame we weren’t actually camping for fun. A tent would have been nice. At least I felt cleaner.
Our breakfast consisted of rabbit, courtesy of Wolf, cooked over a newly built fire courtesy of my lighter, which delighted both Wolf and Marianne to no end.
Finally we were on our way again, traipsing along the path until Wolf informed us that we had to leave it in order to get to Marianne’s village. We marched through the leaves, probably the strangest group to travel through the kingdom since the days that wolves and humans were friendly. Wolf led the way with me and Marianne behind holding hands, and Alex in his Sentry uniform bringing up the rear. Probably enough to make anyone who saw us think he was hallucinating.
“Do you know the story of Little Red Riding Hood?” The question had nagged at me ever since I’d heard the name of the kingdom and the apparent problem with wolves.
Wolf gave me a funny look. “No.”
“So no story of a wolf eating up a grandmother and then a little girl, only to be rescued by a huntsman? Kind of tragic?”
Wolf scoffed. “Do you mean the story of how the House of Red and House of Hood came to be?”
“Uh, sure.”
“That’s not how it goes. The only truly tragic stories are the ones with love in them.”
“So if I’m wrong, tell me the real story.”
“It’s a story long forgotten by humans. That or most of them muss it up to know it the way you know it. There was a lovely girl named Adria Red, and she was the next queen of the kingdom. She was in love with a wolf, and he was very much in love with her. They might have made things better for wolves in the kingdom, had they married. But a huntsman by the name of Teron Hood wanted Adria to himself. The kingdom was just extra fat on the bone.”
“Is this going to be a Romeo and Juliet story?” Alex asked, less than thrilled at the prospect. I shushed him, and Wolf continued.
“One day Adria set off to visit her grandmother who lived in a small house in the forest. After living so long in the castle, she wanted to be free and out in the open—some say the grandmother might have been part wolf herself, but no one really knows. The wolf wanted to surprise Adria by showing up at her grandmother’s, and when the huntsman saw him heading that way, he decided this was the perfect opportunity to get rid of the wolf. He got to the house first and poisoned the grandmother. Then he snuck out to wait for the wolf.
“When the wolf arrived, he saw the grandmother was dead and didn’t know what to do. Then the huntsman appeared and convinced the wolf that Adria would think he’d killed her and the only way to save himself and their love was to eat up the grandmother’s body. The wolf did just that, except the poison in the grandmother’s blood got to him too, so soon he was asleep on her bed, full and sick.
“When Adria arrived, she saw the wolf and didn’t know what to make of her missing grandmother, and then the huntsman appeared again and told her that the wolf’s bloodlust was too great and he had eaten her grandmother alive. He proved it by cutting open the wolf’s stomach and showing Adria the remains of her grandmother. Adria despaired, her heart broken, and she told the huntsman to do with the wolf what he wished, and ran out of the house. The huntsman took out the grandmother’s body and just in case the wolf survived, replaced it with heavy stones before sewing him up again.”
“How the hell could he do that without killing him?” Alex asked. I shot him a look that clearly told him to shut up.
Wolf frowned at him. “Huntsmen are very skilled with their knives and needles. Don’t tell me you’ve never kept a trophy for yourself.”
Alex’s face colored and he mumbled something about not doing it himself.
“When the wolf finally awoke,” Wolf said, getting back to the story, “he could barely drag himself from the home. He didn’t know where Adria or the huntsman was; he didn’t know what had happened. He could hardly even walk. Because of the stones in his stomach he couldn’t eat, and wandered the forest in confusion for many days. The huntsman had comforted and wooed Adria until she finally consented to marry him. Most of us like to think that she never forgot the wolf. Even if she did, she was reminded of him again when he dragged himself to the castle, and died by the walls of starvation.”
“Oh my God,” I said. “That is awful.” And it certainly was the polar opposite of the story I knew.
Wolf shook his head as if to clear out the story. “That’s why the House of Hood sits on the throne now. Well, not the full line at least. The man in control of the kingdom is just a steward, a far distant cousin to the House of Hood. We all hope for the days of Red to come again. Those were less harsh times.” He stooped, picked up a stick, threw it. “She may have thought he ate her grandmother, but she still had a soft heart for the rest of us.”
“There’s no one left from the House of Red?” I asked.
Wolf shrugged. “There may be a distant relative somewhere, but the name has probably been lost. The House of Red has always controlled the Kingdom, which is why the House of Hood can never have the full title.”
Suddenly a light bulb clicked on in my brain. I glanced down at Marianne. Was that why her parents were taking her to the castle to be safe? Because she was descended from the Red line? And the House of Hood—was that who wanted her? Except that didn’t make sense. Why would the House of Hood charge wolves to go after her? Weren’t they charged with exterminating wolves?
I shook my head. No. Whoever wanted Marianne wasn’t from the House of Hood. Wolf had kept saying, “She” so it was a woman. But then why would wolves come after Marianne if she were destined to make their lives better? If that’s how it worked, anyway.
We continued our hike along the path, the birds above us chirping merrily in the sunshine. As if I weren’t walking with a potential future queen or a half-wolf or my step brother dressed as a wolf-killer. The whole idea almost made me want to laugh. But as we kept going, Wolf seemed to grow twitchy. His gaze darted around. He made occasional exasperated huffing sounds. He jiggled the foot with the band around it. A creepy magical sensation crept up my neck before disappearing.
“Is something wrong?” I asked. I didn’t like it when his collar did random magical things. I also kept forgetting to ask him about it.
“No,” he said quickly. “No, no. Just…anxious. After all, I doubt Miss Marianne’s parents will be pleased to meet a half-wolf.”
“We don’t have to tell them what you are. Act normal and don’t go flashing your eyes or your teeth and we’ll be fine.” I was about to ask him about the collar when Alex held up a hand.
“Anyone else hear that?” he asked.
I glanced at him. “Hear what?”
“I don’t know.” He narrowed his eyes. “It almost sounds like the ocean.”
Up ahead, the trees appeared to thin and the forest floor grew brighter. I cocked my head. A faint roar drifted through the trees, receding and then rushing in again. Confusion mixed with an uncomfortable sense of wrongness curled around inside me.
“You’re right. It does sound like an ocean.” I breathed deep. “And now that you mention it, it smells like an ocean too.” I clutched Marianne’s hand tighter. “Do you live by the ocean?”
She gazed up at me with wide, confused eyes. “No.”
“Wolf, where are we going?”
Howls and snarls erupted around us as a pack of hairy creatures leaped up from the brush. They stood on two legs like people, but their legs bent like a dog’s. Claws curled out from big, oddly jointed fingers. They had tails and heads like wolves, with sharp teeth and glowing red eyes. I knew all too well what they were.
“Werewolves!” Alex yelled.
He swung his crossbow forward and started firing as they jumped at us from all directions. I snatched up Marianne and skittered backward so my back was against Alex’s. Wolf snarled at the two facing him.
Too many! Too many! I swung my fist at one of them, but he ducked with ease. His hands darted out and yanked Marianne from my grasp. She screamed and kicked at him, slapping at his face with her hands. I shouted in anger and jumped at the werewolf, locking my arms around his neck and slamming my knee into his side. He snarled and flung his body forward, flipping me off him. I landed on my back, the air knocked out of my lungs. Before I had a chance to recover, two other werewolves were on me, grabbing at my arms and digging their claws in deep enough to draw blood. One tore my daypack off my back. They hauled me to my feet and despite my vicious kicking, started to drag me out of the forest. The werewolf carrying Marianne ran ahead and vanished.
“Alex!”
But he only screamed amidst the werewolf barking and growling. I slammed my heel into one of my captor’s knees. He let out a howl and went down, releasing my arm. I spun around, trying to dislodge myself from the other werewolf, but he only held on tighter, sinking his claws deeper into my flesh. Behind us, Alex was unconscious, held between two werewolves with another carrying his crossbow.
“Wolf!”
Wolf glanced over his shoulder at me. His eyes were red. He faced off with several werewolves, in a half crouch, arms out and fingers curled into claws. One of the werewolves lunged at him, but the werewolf I’d kicked got back up and yanked me back around. Behind me, a bout of snarling went up as leaves crunched and crackled in the fight.
I jerked and kicked, but they weren’t so easily caught off guard again. They carried me into the open area beyond the trees. Bright light dazzled my eyes. We’d emerged on a beach where peach sand swept off to either side for miles. Just as suddenly, the sunlight vanished as a huge fortress loomed ahead. It looked like it might have been carved out of a single towering rock lodged on the beach the oceans had never been able to erode. A strange assortment of poles with blackened debris beneath them lined either side of the fortress. Then it hit me.
We’d arrived at the Impound.
I didn’t understand. Why were we at the Impound? Why were werewolves at the Impound? Why had Wolf brought us this far?
They dragged me inside the structure. We passed through a hall lined with weapons; crossbows, swords, knives, and clubs, all hanging on racks for quick access. I mapped out our progress in my mind as we went. If we had the chance to escape, we’d need to know the way out again, fast. We headed up through another hall to an open chamber with a vaulted ceiling. It looked like it had been rearranged to suit whoever now used it, wood piled in the corners and a chair set against one of the walls. A massive fire pit burned in the center, the walls decorated with tapestries depicting people standing before a castle or dead wolf after a hunt. After another short series of halls, they hauled me into a huge circular room with cells lining the walls. The walkway spiraled down one floor to another area where a second fire pit burned. More tapestries hung from the walls around it.
The werewolves stopped in front of a cell with a door made of thick wooden planks. I kept a close eye on the lock. They didn’t use keys. Instead, a complex set of metal bars attached the door to the stone building. Too far away from the gaps in the boards to reach with a hand. The werewolf worked at the bars. Left, left, right, up.
I repeated the combination in my head even as they shoved me into the cell and shut the door behind me. I glared at them through the gaps as they left, ignoring the pain in my arms from their claw marks. I paced along the door, making plans, discarding them, coming up with new ones. Where had they taken Marianne? What had they done to Alex?
A few moments later, the clanking of a cell lock came from the one next to mine. I pressed my face against the door to try and see out.
“Alex? Is that you? Alex?”
But the only response I got was a snap from a werewolf. I kicked the door in reply. Then I kicked it again out of sheer frustration. Nothing I did involving Marianne ever went right. What the hell kind of Guardian was I supposed to be? I started pacing again.
After another few minutes, the werewolves returned and worked at the lock to my door. I stood ready. Were they here to kill me or worse? Either way, I wasn’t going down without a fight. They moved in slowly, eyeing me, ready for any move I might make.
The moment one stepped forward to take my arm again, I swung my fist at him. But he easily grabbed my hand and dragged me forward. The other werewolf seized my other arm, and once again I was stuck between them. They pulled me out of the cell and back the way we’d come when first entering the fortress, stopping once they reached the chamber with the vaulted ceiling. The room had been empty the first time, but now a handful of werewolves stood around like soldiers. Some of them wore gold ankle collars, but not all. In front of the chair stood a woman. I gasped at the sight of her. Her skin was almost as white as snow and her icy eyes narrowed at the sight of me. Her obsidian hair was so long it touched the floor. She wore a black dress that clung to her finger and spread out around her feet in a pool of darkness. A kind of feral air seeped from her, yet she kept it masked behind her porcelain face. I reached out with my senses. She knew magic. It lay quietly in her, available for use any time she chose—and it was mean. Yet at the same time it somehow felt twisted. Like it didn’t want to be there. But who was she?
My werewolf captors came to a halt several feet away from her. For several long moments, she merely stared at me, assessing. Then she broke out into peals of laughter.
“This? This little thing is the Guardian?”
From out of the shadows, a familiar form materialized. “That’s her, my Mistress. The Guardian of the child. I must say, she was quite a lot of trouble.”
Wolf. I gaped at him. No. No way. This had to be some kind of ruse. Fake. He had to be pretending.
“Excellent, my lovely. She is a fresh smelling thing, isn’t she? And smelling so much like wolves too.” She smiled a smile that would turn ice glacial. “Did you have anything to do with that?”
Wolf grinned. “I had to keep her with me somehow.”
“What’s going on?” I demanded, tugging at the werewolves holding me.
“I actually thought her brother was the Guardian at first,” Wolf told the woman, ignoring me. “Until I heard it straight from her mouth.”
A dark chill ran through me. The old witch. She’d told me not to let Wolf know, and what had I done?
“Really?” asked the Mistress, who seemed truly amused with this information. “She’s such an insignificant little thing.”
“Come down here and I’ll show you how insignificant I am,” I growled.
Her eyes glittered. “I shall enjoy locking you away.”
“What do you mean?”
She stared at me, a slightly crazed yet delighted look appearing on her face. “You’re the Guardian? And you didn’t know?”
I didn’t answer. She laughed again. I glanced at Wolf. What was his plan? He couldn’t really be on her side, could he?
“You,” the Mistress said, “and your little charge are only going to be in my way if I leave you around.” She took several steps forward, her dark dress swishing with each movement. “I don’t care how accurate the rumors are, I enjoy being what I am. So do all my werewolves.”
She gestured around the room, met with a chorus of howls. So that was it? She was a werewolf too? How did she know magic if wolves didn’t mix well with it?
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me and Marianne,” I said.
If knives ever came out of someone’s eyes, they would have come from hers. “I’ll not have the old curse broken just because of some little girl. Some pathetic little human child. Humans are the bane of this land. It should be ruled by wolves! I mean to make it so. My pack and I will set out and kill every human we find, and the other packs will join us. They shall become like us, and together we shall take the Kingdom of Red!”
She raised her hands to the ceiling, the werewolves around her howling again. They planned to take over the land. The crazy bitch wanted to start a war. After a few moments, she breathed out slowly, lowering her hands. She faced me again.
“And now I have the two creatures that might take that away from us. I can’t kill you, of course. I shall simply lock you away, encase you in a magic shell where you shall neither age nor die. I can’t have either of your souls returning to cause my future regime any grief. All thanks to my loyal Wolf.”
I looked to Wolf again. He stared back, impassive. She couldn’t be right. He was on our side. Except…he’d brought us to this place instead of Marianne’s village. He’d been after Marianne from the start. A sinking feeling went through me. I thought he was fighting the werewolves outside. But now he was here, standing at her side, not a scratch on him.
“No,” I breathed. He had to be lying. I stared into his gold eyes for some type of recognition. Some sort of clue to what he was doing. There was nothing there.
“But you knew we were coming,” I said, my voice catching for a moment. “You planned a trap for us. Wolf was with us the entire time. How did you know?”
Wolf brought up his leg, resting his foot on the chair arm. He hiked up his pant leg, revealing the gold band around his ankle. “She gave us these for a reason. We can communicate with one another through them. My Mistress has known about everything all along. We were all looking for the girl. I just got lucky and found her—and you—first.”
Suddenly the magic made sense. Every time they’d communicated I’d felt it. I just never knew what I was feeling. The night the moon was on the cusp of being full—he’d been talking to her.
“But,” I sputtered, unable to let myself believe it, “but you came after me when I… You found me. You said I was your mate.”
He cocked his head at me. “I was imprisoned by humans. Sentenced to death by humans. Did you actually think I would take one as a true mate?”
My stomach rolled. I wanted to throw up.
“Do you even know what your role of Guardian means?” he continued. “My Mistress warned me, which is why I had to tread carefully around you. She said you were fated to kill any who try to harm the girl, and that you have the power to rally others to help in your cause.”
The Mistress patted Wolf on the head. “That’s why I was concerned about you. I worried you would get ensnared in some righteous little Guardian net.”
“No, Mistress. I am much stronger than that. She may have been able to summon her brother, but I was able to summon her here.”
She laughed. “Such a delightful little half-wolf you are. I never would have expected such cunning from you.”
“Indeed, my Mistress. I am very crafty.” He bowed.
“Then what was that by the lake? What was that?” I demanded, lunging forward in the werewolves’ grasp.
A mean smile curled Wolf’s mouth. “I had to make sure I got back in your good graces, didn’t I? I just didn’t know it would be so easy. Or so sweet.”
I shook my head, speechless. There was no way this could be real. He couldn’t be saying these things, not after what I’d felt. What we’d felt. It was impossible.
“Shame I didn’t get to finish what we started in the barn, my scared little lamb. That was the best part of this whole façade.” His eyes flared red for a moment.
A sharp pain lanced through my heart. I fell forward and let out a breathless cry. What the hell?
When I was able to look up again, I found Wolf staring at me strangely, as if trying to figure out what was wrong with me.
“No!” I shouted at him once I’d recovered. “You liar. You promised. You gave me your word!”
Tears filled my vision as I strained against my two captors. Rage quickly replaced my despair. He’d lied to me. He’d betrayed me. I wanted to kill him. I screamed louder than I’d ever screamed before, thrashing and kicking, jerking my arms against the two werewolves that held me. The fact that I was helpless made me angrier and I fought like a berserker, kicking out and twisting around. In front of me, Wolf snarled.
“You liar!” I yelled. “You liar! You bastard! I should have let them burn you! You son of a bitch! I should have let them burn you!”
I whipped my head around, bringing my teeth down on one of the werewolves’ hands and sank my teeth into his fingers. He barked in surprise and let me go. I swung my fist around and smashed it into the other’s nose. His grip loosened enough, and I pulled my arm free and charged at Wolf. I didn’t care that he had fangs and I didn’t. I didn’t care that he might kill me here and now. Whatever happened, he’d already hurt me too deeply for me to care. I wanted to hurt him as much as possible before I went down.
But I didn’t get the chance. I made it four feet before something flattened me to the ground. The werewolves. I still didn’t care. I glared up at Wolf.
“You’re no better than a human! A human!”
And then I was even too exhausted to be angry. My heart hurt, my wounds hurt, I wanted to go home, and for once in my life I wanted wolves to die. I burst into tears, a sobbing, pitiful thing on the ground before a powerful woman and the man, the wolf, I’d fallen in love with. The traitor I’d fallen in love with.
The woman laughed, ice tinkling over glass. “She insults her own kind. What a strange creature she is.”
The two werewolves picked me up. I didn’t help them. I let my feet drag on the ground.
“Take this sad little thing away,” the woman said. “I’ll deal with her later, after I lock away the girl.”
The brute at my right grunted and then gave me a sadistic wolf grin as he licked his hand where my blood had smeared his fur.
“No!” the Mistress yelled. “Don’t, you fool!”
Blood for Wolves
Nicole Taft's books
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