Chapter 45: Shots Fired

She saw his body, sagged against a tree, nearly the same one that she rescued him from a few months ago. His head was leaning forward, and she could see that his hands and feet were bound. There was a small layer of white flakes on him. He hadn’t been here too long so he shouldn’t be near freezing, but the temperature could drop at any moment in these mountains.
Her snout raised; she sniffed the cold air. His scent was strong, but it mingled with others. She could smell the other hunters nearby. Knowing it was a trap, she forged ahead. She would save him, even if it cost her, her life.
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The Red Hoods gathered at the back of the Brochade estate. Dusk had fallen and the nearly full moon began to peek over the trees. They were all clothed in black, their faces concealed behind woolen masks. While all armed, they carried a variety of weapons, the ammo all silver tipped.
Ava walked from the house, her bright red cloak trailing behind her. She was wearing a rather ornate outfit, complete with tooled leather armor. Her white-blond hair was pulled severely back into a braid that fell over one slender shoulder. While the others carried crossbows and pistols, she instead was armed with blades.
She wore leather gauntlets on her forearms, a razor-sharp blade in each. Around her neck hung her most prized position, a six-inch gilded dagger that she used on her first kill. The Red Hoods moved aside as she walked to the front of the procession.
Glancing over her shoulder at them, she said, “Let’s hunt,” and walked forward, disappearing into the trees. The Knights flanked her, taking up the rear. The only thing that could be seen were the flashes of a red cloak moving through the snow lit night.
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“They’re coming,” Keena whispered to her mother. Rashida gave one firm nod. Keena turned back to the pack members who were waiting outside of the lodge.
“It’s time!” she called. The members began to shift into wolves much larger than the native creatures of the land. Where once stood a group of people from various backgrounds and ethnicities, now stood towering wolves, covered in varying shades of grey, black and white.
Rashida, now a beautiful inky black wolf, threw her head back and howled. The pack raised their voices to join her and began to run through the forest, thirsting for blood.
Loriann winced as the howls tore through the lodge. Part of her craved the battle, she felt her wolf clawing to be let it out, but she had a duty here. She had to keep those in her care safe. She knew that the pack would be fine even without her.
The pups were agitated, their energy spiking off of the walls in the large room. Loriann distracted them with popcorn and a movie. Soon they settled down. The elders were not so easily distracted, instead sitting by the giant hearth, sipping tea. All of their lined faces were grim. Battle was never taken lightly, and they knew that some lives would be lost tonight. It wasn’t a joyous affair.
The medicine woman was sitting eerily still, gazing out of the large picture window that looked over the forest below. Loriann approached her, finally after finding many reasons to avoid her. She came and sat at her feet, showing the respect she deserved.
She felt a dry hand cup her cheek and raise her face. The woman’s eyes were swirling pools of emerald and amber. Loriann felt breathless just gazing into them.
“Ask your question,” her voice rustled like dry leaves against the ground. Loriann breathed in her earthy scent, gathering her courage.
“What is Willow?” she asked, her lips trembling. The woman’s eyes began to swirl, the colors folding and melting over one another. Loriann felt her grip on reality shift and her body felt as if it were going to tip into these eyes, swirling and lost into the ether.
“She is a wolf but in her blood runs the essence of a trickster, a master of shifting.”
“How?” Loriann whispered, her eyes wide and her hands covering her mouth.
“Her father,” she replied, her voice the song of autumn winds.
“He was human. Just a hunter,” Loriann protested. The wise woman shook her head.
“No, you couldn’t see past your hatred for his kind. He didn’t even know what flowed through his veins. He and your daughter were intrinsically linked, they were destined to find each other and create Willow.”
“To create Willow? Why? I don’t understand.” Loriann’s thoughts were twirling and watching the spinning of the eyes in front of her was beginning to make her nauseous. She just wanted a straightforward answer.
“She is the alpha, the one to change our path. Her children will live in a different world, a world where the line between hunter and hunted is blurred. Do not fight her union with the man. It was foretold long ago. Together, their blood will be stronger for when a hunter and a wolf mix, it creates a lycanthrope. A new generation of wolf,” her eyes stopped swirling and returned to their normal state.
Loriann fell back slightly, breathless as though she had been running.
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The arrow whipped past her face and stuck into the tree, its reverberations shaking the ground. She turned and snarled, spittle flying from her elongated fangs. With a roar she charged towards Garin, shielding his body with hers. Another arrow whistled through the air, lodging itself directly above her head.
Her roar of anger shook the trees, a few lingering rooks scattered. Garin’s eyes were wide behind her as he struggled against his bonds. He felt thin cold fingers against his wrists and jerked sharply. Audrey pressed a finger to her lips. She had somehow snuck around behind them. She quickly cut through the ties around his wrist. He rubbed them and then tore off the binds on his ankles.
“I think it’s just dad and Silas. I didn’t see Miles leave with them,” she murmured in his ear. “Cole is helping us. I can’t give you the full story now, but a lot of the Red Hoods aren’t happy with dear old mum and dad.” Garin nodded as she spoke, trying to rub feeling back into his feet.
“How are we going to get out of this?” he asked a bullet ricocheted off the tree next to him. Willow roared again, the sound shook Garin’s ribcage. Audrey pushed something cold and metallic into his hand. He looked down. It was his old handgun, a 357 Desert Eagle.
“Do you still know how to shoot this?” she asked, pulling her own gun from her hip. He snorted derisively.
“I’ll manage,” he replied popping out the magazine. Full. He pushed it back in with a satisfying click.
Audrey held out a hand and helped him to stand. The firing had stopped for a moment. Willow was still standing in front of him, shielding him from the blows. He placed a hand on her shanks. She turned her large head to look at him, her yellow eyes glowing. She nuzzled him for a moment, checking him to make sure he was okay.
“I’m fine,” he said and stroked her ears. Her body jerked once and with a loud yelp, she fell to the ground. Thick dark red blood began to pool from her side.
Garin cried out and tried to staunch the blood with his hands but it seeped between his fingers. He looked up and saw his father, staring down the scope of his gun, a wisp of smoke curling from the barrel.