The Red Hunter

C h a p t e r 1 7

"You need to come with me," a voice whispered in my ear.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Her perfect blonde hair and lying blue eyes, I didn't need to turn around to see the sly grin that had taken over her face--the face I was accused of taking or possibly murdering.

I could feel her warm breath on my ear, breathing down my neck as she waited for me to react, but instead I closed my mouth and refused to turn around in fear of what I may do.

A dangerous fire was growing inside my core, one that was rising rapidly as the seconds went by, pushing away my pain and replacing it with adrenaline. My scythes were forgotten in my grasp, as the blood pumping throughout my body turned me into the only weapon needed.

My body was shaking uncontrollably, and Cleora seemed to take that as fear instead of the raw anger it truly was.

"Do not be afraid, just turn around," She whispered once more in my ear--too close.

Everything was too close.

The walls around me, Jack's trial and soon to be execution, the constriction strings of the bond--everything was spinning around me; weaving and knotting into one large net that had me ensnared in its trap. Kindness and mercy did nothing to save me, only fighting and anger would break the bonds around my limbs.

"What will you do--" I spared no glance at Jack or Gabel as I whipped around to face her.

I allowed the fiery path of anger inside of me gain control for a moment as I brought my fist to the side of her face, not holding back.

My powerful attack was too fast for her to react defensively, so with no resistance she crashed into the side wall, the smell of charred skin wafting from her form as she wobbled to her feet.

She raised her head, and her blonde hair fell from her face, her black, void eyes reaching mine as she drew her hand to her face, feeling the mark of wrath I had branded into her.

Instead of anger or fear, she smiled and took a step forward once more.

She taunts the red cape in front of the bull.

A haze of red filled my vision as I prepared to attack her again to wipe the smile off of her stupid face when Jack gripped my arm in warning and Gabel stepped next to me.

"We can't," Jack said lowly for my ears. "Think reasonably. Killing her here in the clan house would be your worst move. It would be all three of our heads then--not just mine and yours, but also Gabel's despite his position with the Council."

"Then what do you suggest we do with her, give her to a wounded Sorrel and apologize?" I hissed back, my eyes trained on Cleora's dark ones--her non-blue eyes.

My anger turned into confusion for a moment as I stared closely at her for the first time. Her blonde hair was it's prim perfection and she stood tall as always, but that's where the similarities ended. The person standing in front of me was Cleora, but different.

Around her neck and wrists were inky black lines, as if they had been jaggedly carved in by thin needles. Her tongue, barely visible from between her teeth, was stained a deep, unnatural red as were her lips. Her eyes, they were the most striking out of all the differences. They were as black as her heart--no light whatsoever, just a pitless abyss consuming all and everything.

They were inhumane.

I no longer resisted Jack's grip as my fight subsided and I continued to stare at . . . it.