Chapter 46: Field of Blood

The pack watched as the hunters made their way through the forests, their black shadows flitted through the trees towards the lodge. “Hold,” Rashida commanded, her voice floating through their minds. A low growl rippled through the pack, each one adding their own rage to the rumble.
The hunters moved closer; their scents trailed along the snow-covered ground. The pack held, their hackles raised, poised to attack. The hunters suddenly stopped, forming a v-formation. A confusion passed through the pack. Why had they stopped?
A figure walked from the center of the hunters, a red cloak blowing behind it. Something glinted in the moonlight as it approached. Whoever it was, was small and petite. A gust of wind ripped the hood from its head and pale hair spilled out.
“The Huntress,” Rashida hissed, the venom in her voice causing the pack to wince. “No mercy, whatever it takes. We will wipe them from this place. Now!” She howled a blood-curdling shriek. The pack joined, their voices intertwining to create one eerie low that echoed through the night.
They charged through the trees, bursting from the shadows. The sound of arrows being notched and guns cocking filled the gaps between the howls. The Huntress strode across the field, the snow crunched underneath her boots. She flipped two blades from her sleeves a wicked grin on her painted, blood-red lips.
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Garin pulled the trigger twice, the bullets thudding wetly into his father’s chest. With a groan, Weyland fell loudly and the snow billowed around his fallen body. Silas peered around a tree and launched an arrow at him. Garin batted it away with a growl.
At the first drop of Willow’s blood that they spilled, Garin was consumed with an all-encompassing rage. He shot his father without a second thought and now, his older brother was in his sights. He raised his pistol up and as he was about to squeeze the trigger an explosion of red blossomed around Silas’s head. Garin froze, his gun still pointed where his brother had just been.
Audrey stood a few feet away, her gun smoking and her eyes hard. Her eyes met Garin’s and she gave him one sharp nod before holstering her weapon.
“There’s no one else here,” she said as she stepped over the corpse of her brother. Garin ran back to Willow where Cole was crouched over her, pressing his coat into her wound. Garin fell to his knees beside her and took the coat from him.
Willow’s eyes were squeezed shut, her breathing labored.
“Baby, can you hear me?” Garin asked, his throat thick with emotion. She didn’t respond. “No, no no no no…” he said and pushed his head to her chest. Her heart was racing but it began to slow as he listened. Tears dripped from his chin into her fur which had begun to melt, giving away to snow-white skin.
“We have to get her warmed up. I have her clothes,” Audrey said holding out her bag to him.
“There isn’t time. Her heart is slowing. We need to get her to a hospital,” Garin snapped pushing the bag away.
“We can’t take her to a hospital. This would lead to a lot of questions we don’t have answers for. Before she shifted, she gave me this. It’s a list of names and numbers of those that can help us,” Audrey said and dug out a sheet of notebook paper from her pocket.
“Okay, let’s go,” Garin wrapped Willow’s shivering body in her coat and cradled her head gently as he lifted her. Her lips were tinged purple. “We need to hurry.”
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A rapid knock sounded on the lodge door. Loriann walked towards it, hoping that no one had died. She pulled the door open and snow swirled in, bringing in the strong scent of hunters. With a growl, she hurried to shut the door, but a voice stopped her.
“Loriann,” she heard Garin croak. “It’s Willow.” She pulled open the door and saw her granddaughter draped in his arms. She was barely breathing.
“In, in! Over there,” she commanded, snapping into action. Garin’s sister and a man she didn’t know trailed in after them. She would deal with them later. “You two, wait by the fire.” She pointed towards the roaring fireplace and hurried after Garin. She caught a sob in her throat as she watched one of Willow’s arms slip from Garin’s grasp, a pale finger dragging across the ground.
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The white snow was splattered with blood, a grotesque mosaic of death. Bodies littered the ground as the snow continued to fall, heavy and silent. Fallen wolves were shifting quickly, their fur slipping away to exposed skin. Dead hunters lay torn in shreds their sticky blood frozen into macabre streams.
“She’s not here!” Ava roared, plunging her blade into the nearest wolf. She tugged the blade out from the whimpering shifter and kicked it away. Her eyes searched the bodies, she only saw black and white fur, no red. The wolf at her feet began to try to lift itself up and crawl away. With a growl, she spun and thrust her blade into the back of its neck, rendering it still.
“I need the girl!” she yelled, her red cloak billowing. She turned to see that she was alone in the middle of the field. The Red Hoods had left her, standing alone. She looked towards the trees. All she saw were yellow eyes watching her. She was outnumbered but she would someday have her kill. With a flick of her cloak, she walked away. A lone howl sounded behind her. She smiled; her pale face flecked in blood.