I pulled away from her slightly. “Is someone there?” My voice came out wispier than normal, cut through with the knife of cold air and nerves.
No one answered. I wouldn’t know if Hellbreath had a rider unless I crept my hands toward her saddle, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do that. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know who was looking at me so closely, and why.
With a deep breath that stabbed through my ribs, I gently pushed my horse out of the doorway and limped outside. My bare feet met snow. The bitter cold wind seeped through my long flannel in an instant and chattered my teeth together. I’d made much smarter decisions than coming out here like this.
But even if I didn’t want to know, I had to know. I stuck close to Hellbreath and searched for the horn on her saddle, or a stray leg to a rider who refused to say a word. No leg though. Just something tied to the horn, something that hadn’t been there when I’d ridden Hellbreath through the Crimson Forest.
She whinnied then, and a sound followed immediately after like snow cracking just a few feet away. A footstep?
I whipped my head toward it, my breath snagging in my lungs. “Grady? Is that you?”
Hellbreath pawed at the ground, likely sensing my nervousness.
After several seconds of silence, I ran my hand over the fabric tied to the horn and worked the knot loose. It felt damp, probably from the snow, and the ends of it fluttered against my palm. The smell hit me when I freed it, the night air stirring just enough to send a coppery whiff toward me.
Blood. A lot of it.
My hands shook as I tried to figure out what the piece of cloth was, and then my thumb hit one corner of it, and the monogram stitched there by my mother. KS. My baba’s initials.
I was holding his bloody handkerchief. A bloody warning.
A slight breeze sighed through the treetops, and I swore I heard a faint, whistling chuckle.
Chapter 5
Ishut the door and locked it on Hellbreath, and the surge of guilt crashed into my terror so hard, it nearly buckled my knees. I had to leave her out there. I couldn’t go outside myself, not with someone lurking about and delivering bloody warnings when I didn’t even know where the barn was.
Gritting my teeth against my tears, I turned back in the direction of my room with my baba’s bloody handkerchief and my arrow. By the time I made it down the hallway, my body was sagging, my broken ribs and bruised, punctured flesh screaming. I needed to lie down, but I needed to find Archer more. When I made it to Sasha’s door, I leaned against it and tried the doorknob. Locked.
“Archer?” I knocked softly.
“Aika?”
That was Archer's voice, soft yet tense, coming from the far end of the hallway behind me.
I sucked in a relieved breath and then loosed it in a garbled mess of words. "Hellbreath— My horse is outside, and I think someone brought her here. They're still outside, and they brought me a warning. My baba's bloody handkerchief.” I held it out for him to see. “I think it's the same guy who shot my baba and…" I started to sag farther, the weight of everything too much for my healing body.
Archer was there in an instant, his arms wrapping around me and holding me close. I sank into his strength, shivered into his warmth, breathed in his scent that reminded me of wood smoke and caramel.
"I'll go out and take care of your horse," he said, his breath caressing the top of my head. "But first, we need to get you back to bed, okay?"
I nodded, my cheek sliding against his soft flannel shirt. His body felt like fire against mine, almost too hot, and I reluctantly stepped away. "Do you have a weapon you can take with you?"
"Yes." He trailed his hand down my back as he opened my bedroom door and guided me through it, his other hand at my elbow. "Don't worry about me."
"That guy out there… He desperately wants my moonshine when he could literally go anywhere to get it. I don't know why he wants mine, but I'm sure he recognized Hellbreath and followed her here or led her here to see if I was here.” I dropped my arrow and the handkerchief on the floor and then lay down on the bed, exhausted. “I'm so sorry, Archer. I'm so sorry for getting you involved in this…whatever."
"It's not your fault." He tucked the blanket up to my chin, and I found his hand and squeezed.
"Promise me you'll be careful when you go out there?"
A long pause, and I could feel him searching my face, staring intently, and for some reason, it made my cheeks flush. "I promise."
He slid his hand from mine, but I held to his fingertips for as long as I could, for his warmth, for his safety. I hated feeling like a bruised coward. Give me a wild from the Crimson Forest at far range—keyword: far—and I could handle that well enough. But a strange man who had no problem shooting my baba and then hunting me? Hell no.
After a minute, the front door closed on Archer's footsteps, and then quiet blanketed the cabin. I listened until my ears burned for the slightest sound. For Archer to come back. For the front door to open and it not be Archer.
I doubted this man outside—whoever he was—would stop until he had my moonshine. He could sneak past Archer unnoticed while he dealt with Hellbreath.
