Blood Curse (Branded Trilogy Book 2) (9 page)

She was grateful the moon was almost full, and she could see a short distance in front of her. A wolf howled in the distance. She shivered. The ground beneath her feet rose up and down in uneven bumps, and she stumbled. She threw her arms out, balancing herself so she didn’t fall flat on her face. Careful not to alert Kade, she waited a moment before she stepped softly into the grass.

She came upon him standing on a flat bluff overlooking the valley below.

“Where are you going?” she asked as she came up behind him.

He spun around, and she didn’t miss the shock on his face before it was covered with his usual pompous smirk.

“I could not sleep and needed to walk.”

She did not believe him. The way he stood, possibly a little too relaxed had her second-guessing his reply.

“I see.”

More wolves howled in the distance.

“Head on back, I’ll be there in short time.”

“No, I’d rather stay thank you.”

He sighed.

She heard branches break to her left and turned. She was greeted with panting and a low ominous growl.

“What was—?”

“Quiet,” he said. “Do not move.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close to him, just as two eyes glowed ahead of them.

She blinked, and four more pairs stood with the first.

A large grey wolf stepped a thick paw forward. His white fangs flashed in the darkness, and he snarled.

“This cannot be good.”

“They must’ve smelled the hare,” he said.

“Or the fear,” she finished.

The wolf hunched his back, and the fur stood. He pawed at the ground as saliva dripped from his curled lip.

“Gypsy, prepare yourself to run.”

She turned back the way they’d come when two brown wolves moved from the shadows toward them and growled. Unable to move, her heart thudded in her chest. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

“When I say run, you do it without looking back.”

“K…Kade?”

“Yeah?”

“There are more on this side.”

He glanced past her.

“Shit.”

They stood back to back. She could feel the muscles flex in his arms.

“You need to reach within my sheath, and pull my dagger.”

She nodded.

The grey wolf came closer, and before she could move her hand the animal howled. She froze, immobilized by fear. No matter what she told herself, she could not move her arm.

“What is taking so long?” he whispered.

“I cannot…I cannot do it.”

“You must, otherwise we will be dead.”

“They will kill us any way. There are ten of them to two of us.”

“I am not going down with out a fight, so unless you can spout one of your harebrained spells, I suggest you find the strength to get my bloody dagger.”

“Why can you not reach for it yourself?”

“I am larger than you, and if I move they will take it as a threat and lunge. In which case we are doomed.”

The two wolves closest to her growled and snarled.

Her legs trembled.

“You may wound one, but the others will surely kill us.”

“Why must you argue?”

“I am stating logic.”

“Logic is for us to defend ourselves.”

She searched the black ground for a stick or rock, something she could lunge for and help Kade against the wolves, but all she saw were shadows.

The wolf came closer, and she felt his hot breath upon her side. His growl caused the hairs on her body to stand.

Kade pushed his back into hers, a reminder to grab his knife.

She inched her hand along his thigh to his sheath.

“Good girl, Gypsy. Now pull the dagger slowly from the sheath.”

She did as he asked, pausing when one of the wolves in front of her snapped at the other.

Something moved in the bushes to her left and drew their attention away from them. The other wolves noticed, too. Soon they barked and snarled at one another, deciding who would go for the prey first.

“They’re distracted,” Kade said. “Step forward with your right foot now.”

She did, his leg against hers moved in the same direction.

“Another step with your left.”

He melted into her, and they moved as one, slowly away from the deranged wolves. The bushes moved again, and the animals lunged.

Violent barks followed by the sound of teeth into flesh. A yelp and whine. They were attacking each other for the prey.

“Run!”

Kade grabbed her hand and pulled her back up the hill to their camp. She raced for her bow and arrows. She threw herself onto the ground and faced the darkness ready to defend against any of the wolves that followed.

Dagger in hand, Kade went to his saddlebag and pulled the pistol Galius had given him. He fired a shot into the air, loaded the musket and fired another time. They remained on watch until the moon faded, and the sun appeared.

Pril massaged her chest to ease the ache within her heart. It’d been three days since she’d seen Tsura. The loss encompassed her whole body, and at times she struggled to even walk. Before the Renoldis attacked, she’d tucked her daughter into bed, kissing her face until she giggled, and her cheeks turned red. Her pudgy arms encircled Pril’s neck and squeezed. She replayed the moment a hundred times in her head and could still feel Tsura’s hug.

The urgency to know where she was, if she was okay, squeezed her ribs and turned her stomach. How was she supposed to concentrate when all she wanted to do was fall onto her knees and beg for her little girl to come home?

“They departed sometime in the middle of the night,” Kade said crouched beside the ashes left from the fire.

She wandered the camp where Tsura had been hours before, searching for any sign that she was okay. A broken branch, a piece of hair or clothing would give her some relief to know she’d been here.
Please let her be safe.

“Milosh started another fire over here but changed his mind.”

She paused.

“Could be that it was too close to the trees.”

She raced to where he stood and surveyed the area of charred grass and singed branches.
Tsura
. She knelt in front of the burned sward and ran her hands along the spot where her daughter had been. She hoped for an extra beat of her heart, a jolt to her side, or a sensation over her skin—anything to tell her she was still alive. She waited. All senses alert, she yearned for a sign, but all she experienced was the tightness in her throat.

She paused, hands buried deep within the grass.
Milosh would not kill her would he?
He couldn’t possibly harm his only niece? She didn’t know, and it tortured her beyond anything she’d ever felt before. How would she go on living if her daughter perished? She blinked back the tears and shook her head unable to think of a reality so harsh. She needed to concentrate. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands into the grass around the tree.

She felt the rope the second it touched her finger and pulled it up out of the sward. It was singed—burned off. Milosh had tied her here. She’d been scared, and her body temperature rose and burned the grass around her. The girl’s power was uncontrollable. Without Pril’s help she could harm herself or someone else.

She gasped.

What if Tsura hurt another person? What if someone saw the power she held and wanted to use it for evil? She’d be hunted, or worse, hanged just as her mother was. The Monroes would no longer be their only worry.

“What have you found?”

Kade came toward her, and she dropped the rope back into the tall grass.

“I’ve found nothing.”

He brushed her shoulder as he passed her, bent by the tree and retrieved the rope.

“Nothing?”

She shrugged. She was hoping he’d notice her indifference and leave the rope.

He examined it, and she busied herself with searching the rest of the camp for more clues.

“The rope is burned.”

“Hmmm?”

“I said the rope is burned. Milosh tied Tsura with it, but it is burned.”

“Milosh wouldn’t tie her with a burned rope. What good would that be? It’d hardly hold her.”

“Maybe the rope was burned after she was tied.”

“Well, that does not make a lick of sense. Are you suggesting he burned my daughter?”

He didn’t answer, and she knew that was what he thought. She was sure Tsura had enticed the flames and burned the rope herself, but if Kade wanted to think otherwise she wasn’t going to correct him.

“We’ve wasted enough time here.”

She grabbed Athos’ reins and climbed up into the saddle. She glided her hand along the red-brown mane.

Kade stood, rope in hand, and stared at her. Sadness reflected in his eyes, and she looked away, refusing to acknowledge it.

“What are you waiting for?”

He tossed the rope onto the ground.

“Not a damn thing, Gypsy. Not a damn thing.”

They came to a small village not far from the Chesapeake River. The sun had sunk below the Appalachian Mountains, and smoke billowed from the chimneys of the nearby homes. Short fences leaned inward beside the cottages to corral the chickens and pigs.

Kade steered Goliath left down a path with a brothel and mercantile on one side and more homes on the other. He stopped in front of the brothel, dismounted and tied Goliath’s reins to the hitching post in front of the saloon.

“What are you doing?” Pril asked still saddled.

“I need a drink.” He wanted to see if Milosh had passed through here, but he wasn’t going to tell Pril that. He enjoyed riling her.

“We haven’t the time.”

He pulled his leather money holder from his saddlebags.

“We have to keep going.”

A long strand of hair dropped onto his cheek and tickled his chin. The errant hair had escaped the rest which was tied at the nape of his neck. He smirked and tucked it behind his ear.

“We are losing daylight,” she said.

He gazed up at her still on the horse. Long red hair flowed down her back, metal bracelets jingled on her wrists, and the green shawl he’d seen used for so many things was now wrapped around her shoulders.

“We are staying here for the night.”

“I beg your pardon, but I am not staying in there.” She pointed to the one story shoddy building with no glass on the windows and the front door hanging by one hinge.

“Suit yourself.” He turned and went inside.

Kade stepped over a man lying just inside the door and walked to the bar. It was a long slab of wood propped up onto two barrels. A reedy fellow stood behind it with a bottle of brown liquid in his left hand and a rag in the other.

A quick scan of the room told Kade the local farmers were the only customers, most of them were piled sideways and probably seeing two of him.

“All I got left is one bottle of whiskey,” the man said.

“Drank you out of the rest did they?”

He nodded, pulled a short glass from the shelf behind him and placed it on the bar.

“You get a lot of business in these parts?” he asked.

“Just locals mostly.”

He poured the whiskey into a glass and slid it toward him.

“Must be a sight when newcomers pass by.”

“We don’t care much for newcomers. Most everyone knows it, too.” His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Kade.

“Well, you should consider placing a sign of some sorts on the outskirts of town. It may stop that problem.”

The bartender shrugged.

“Has anyone come through lately?”

He shook his head, but Kade could sense a liar when he saw one, and this scrawny bar man was one.

“No one?” he asked again.

“I believe I already said that.”

He threw down some cash. “Thank you for your time. I’ll take the bottle.”

The front door slammed against the wall shaking it, and he turned to see Pril standing there. He took a long swig of his whiskey feeling it burn all the way to his stomach and put the glass back on the bar for the bartender to refill it. He watched as she lifted her skirt and stepped over the man passed out on the ground.

“Nice of you to join me,” he said.

“Do not flatter yourself, Mr. Walker. I’ve come inside to tell you we must get back on the trail.”

He reached behind him to grab his glass.

“I believe I am quite comfortable.” He brought the glass to his lips and realized it was empty. He spun around to ask the bartender to fill his glass and was met with the barrel of a shotgun.

“Have I had my fill already?”

“We don’t serve her kind here.” The man pointed the gun at Pril.

Kade stiffened, every muscle in his body firm, and his hand closed tighter around the glass.

“What kind is that?”

“I’ll be outside,” Pril said.

“No, Gypsy, you stay,” he said without taking his eyes from the bartender. “What kind are you referring to?”

“Her kind.”

“Care to explain?”

“It is fine, really, Kade. I can leave,” Pril pleaded.

“Do not move,” he commanded and turned back to the man behind the bar. “Now, why don’t you tell me what kind she is?”

His voice left no room for challenge, and he didn’t miss the man’s eyes shift behind him as the other men sobered.

“Her kind are thieves, filthy mongrels who prey on innocent people to sell their wares,” a rotund man said from two tables over.

“They delve into black magic, Satan’s work,” another protestor spoke from a table in the back.

“That is absurd,” Pril hissed.

“Well, you got me there. She is all of those things,” Kade said as he leaned back against the bar.

He didn’t miss the glare Pril shot him. The only way they were getting out of here was if he pretended the gypsy was crazy. At first he’d thought to set them straight on Pril and her lifestyle. Even though he didn’t agree with it, she should be welcome where he was. But as the rest of the bar roused, he’d had second thoughts. There was no way he could take them all, and Pril would be of no help.

“She spouts off from time to time but if you ignore her she hushes up.”

“If yer agreein’ with us why are ya travelin’ with her?” one of the drunkards asked.

“That, my friend, is a great question. You see, I’m taking her to jail.”

He heard Pril gasp and prayed she’d see through his fib long enough for them to get out of here.

“I caught her stealing from some farmers back west.”

“You sayin’ there’s a warrant for her arrest?”

Shit.

Three men stood close to Pril, and he didn’t miss the flicker of terror in her eyes.

“I wouldn’t touch my prisoner if I were you.”

“You must be stupid, mister, cause there’s only one of you and ten of us,” a short man closest to him said.

“You may be right, however I am sober, and you my friends, are not.” He pulled back and punched the short man in the nose, sending him over the table.

“Get out of here, Gypsy!”

He tried to see if she made it through the door when two men jumped on his back. He spun around, knocking over chairs as he tried to fling them from him. Hard punches to the side of his face blurred his vision and had him banging into walls. He reached behind him, grabbed the nearest man and threw him over his shoulder. He picked up a chair, ready to hit the man coming toward him, when an arrow whizzed by and stuck in the man’s arm.

A shot rang out from behind the bar. There was no time to see if Pril was okay as more punches flew at him.

An arrow flew by and embedded into the bartender’s arm, causing him to drop the shotgun and howl in pain. More arrows flew by one after the other as men screamed around him. Kade spun and caught the man that had been wailing on his kidneys in the chin. The drunk stumbled backward, caught his balance and came back fists flying.

The man clipped him above the eye, and he felt the skin break. Blood poured from the wound and onto his cheek. Another blow to the left side of his face snapped his neck back and made the room spin.

An arrow stuck in the man’s knee, and he dropped to the ground before Kade. He turned to see Pril, cheeks glowing, eyes full of anger and red hair disheveled.

“I had him,” he said.

She swept the room with her loaded bow.

Kade walked toward the bartender, lying on the ground. He reached across the makeshift bar and yanked him close.

“Now, why don’t you tell me if anyone has passed by in the last few days?”

He remained mute.

Kade shook him. “I don’t have all damn day.”

A bang came from the door to their left, and he released the man to go see what it was.

“What in hell?”

His stomach dropped. The last sip of whiskey turned in his gut. A boy no taller than Kade’s elbow huddled in the corner of the closet. His clothes, torn and threadbare from wear, hung from his skeletal frame. The sour stench of his unwashed body wafted toward Kade, nauseating him. Matted black hair hung in his eyes and to his shoulders. The boy shook so violently that Kade thought him ill.

The boy looked up, one eye was swollen shut and oozing with yellow puss while his bottom lip was split in two. Anger coursed through Kade’s veins, pumping into his fists as he flexed them. In two strides he was behind the bar, and without another thought he punched the bartender, busting open his nose.

The man slumped over, and Kade grabbed his collar, bringing him up to meet another blow of his fist, this time in the stomach. He hit him again, and again and again. With each punch he thought of the boy with the bruised face.

The bartender slumped to the side. When Kade released him, he crumpled to the floor.

“I should drive my knife right through your black heart, you rotten bastard.” He spat on him and walked back over to the closet.