Red - A Paranormal Fairy Tale (Fairy Tale Reboot Book 1) Read online

  “Thank you, Mr. Jones.” So much for being incognito. I took his offer and sat down. “How did you know who I was?”

  He chuckled. “I’m old, dear. Old folks tend to notice what’s right in front of them. We pay more attention than the young’uns.” He settled back and rocked a few times. “How’s your mama doing?”

  “She’s fine,” I said. “I—”

  “Haven’t seen you in a decade, you know. What brings you back ’round these parts?”

  I almost didn’t answer, because I wasn’t sure I’d get more than a few words out before the next question. “I’m looking for someone,” I said. “A guy named Jack. He said he knew you.”

  “Jack.” Mr. Jones folded his hands on a knee and stared into the distance. “No one in the village called Jack.”

  “He’s not from the village.”

  His expression darkened. “You don’t mean that brutal fellow at the old inn, I hope.”

  “What? No, I…” My throat went dry. “Brutal?”

  “Oh, you bet.” He nodded once to punctuate the words. “Stalks around at night, slaughtering animals like a wild beast. Leaves birds and squirrels torn up, sometimes deer. He’s gotten a few of Artie Keller’s cows, too. Even threatened the Smithers’ youngest boy—said he’d eat him up, if he caught him out after dark.”

  “But…” All at once, I felt dizzy. That couldn’t be right. Could it? “Are you sure it’s him?” I said. “I mean, it sounds like a wolf.”

  “It’s him, all right. He’s a wolf on two legs.” His mouth drew down. “That fellow came with the darkness. Even your grandmother fears him. She hasn’t been to the village since he arrived.” Mr. Jones gave me a sympathetic look. “Some folks think he’s done away with her.”

  A cold lump settled in my gut. I knew Nana wasn’t gone yet, because Mom and I both would’ve felt it. But it wasn’t easy to kill a witch as powerful as Nana—so he could be working on it. “And you’re sure it’s the man who runs the inn,” I said. “The big…uh, shaggy guy.”

  Mr. Jones’ eyes narrowed. “If you don’t mind my saying, young lady, you want to stay clear of him. Folks have seen him at work. And he’s sure not running that place.” He shook his head, almost sadly. “That’s no inn now. It’s his lair. Keeps it locked up, never lets anyone in.”

  But he let me in. I decided not to say that out loud. Instead, I stood and offered a hand. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Jones,” I said. “I’d better get going.”

  “All right, dear. Mind what I say, now, and stop by again if you’d like.”

  “I will.” I started down the steps, then stopped halfway when I remembered he still hadn’t answered my original question. “The man I was looking for isn’t him, though,” I said. “Jack. He’s tall and blond. Has a tattoo right here.” I touched my neck to show him. “He said he’d talked to you about researching the cemetery. For his book.”

  “A book, now?” This time, the laugh was a cackle. “I may be old, but I’d remember a talk like that. I’m sorry, dear. I’ve never heard of your Jack.”

  “All right,” I said weakly. “Thank you.”

  The cold in me intensified as I returned to the car. I didn’t know who to believe any more, and I didn’t have time to figure it out. So the answer had to be no one.

  I was going straight to Nana’s. And no big, bad wolf was going to stop me this time, no matter how many legs he had.

  Chapter 10

  Once again, the entrance to the forest path looked deceptively normal.

  I was as ready as I was going to get. I’d parked the car down the road from the inn, hoping the big bear wouldn’t notice I was around—if he wasn’t out slaughtering cows. I had a flashlight in one pocket and my pepper spray in the other, and my bag with the elixir, spare flashlights and batteries, and the mirrors. I’d also worn the cloak. Though I’d forgotten to ask Mom what it was supposed to protect me from, I figured it couldn’t hurt. Maybe I’d run into something it did work on.

  “I’m coming, Nana,” I said aloud, and walked into the woods.

  This time it was less than five minutes before I needed the flashlight. The darkness was no longer gradual, either—it came down like someone had flipped the sun’s off switch. I wondered if it always spread this fast, and what would happen when it reached the borders of the forest. Could it keep going and take over the village? The state, the country…the whole world?

  I thought the answer was yes. If I had any lingering doubts about killing the shapeshifter, they were gone now.

  About ten minutes in, I spotted a soft glow ahead, coming from the ground. The patch of moondrop flowers was in the same place as before, and it looked completely untouched. I stayed on the path. But as I walked by the luminous flowers, I had to fight the urge to go down there and pick some, to make a nice bouquet for my grandma.

  There was no sign of the wolf. Maybe he really couldn’t use the path. I wasn’t about to test that theory by walking off it, though.

  Eventually my steps started to slow, and I stopped to get the mirrors out. Since I’d need both hands, I stuck the flashlight in my mouth and held the mirrors the way Mom had explained. I must’ve looked like the world’s most deranged air traffic controller.

  It worked, but the going wasn’t easy. The unseen barrier pushed at the mirrors every step of the way, and soon my arms were trembling so badly, I was sure I’d drop them. My injured shoulder didn’t help.

  All at once the pressure vanished. My arms dropped like stones, and one of the mirrors slipped from my fingers and shattered on the ground. I would’ve panicked, but I knew I’d made it through.

  Moondrops lined both sides of the path, stretching as far as I could see.

  I shivered as I forged on. The blooms were beautiful in small handfuls, but this many was downright eerie. Silver-white light transformed the earth tones of the forest into shades of bone and ash. Even the bright red of my cloak appeared black.

  There was a bend in the path ahead. I held my breath as I rounded it, suddenly afraid I’d find an empty clearing where Nana’s cottage used to be.

  It was there. And the clearing was a carpet of moondrops.

  I practically ran to the door, and then hesitated with my hand on the latch. This had been way too easy. It almost felt like I’d been allowed to get this far, and the real challenge was still to come. But I hadn’t gotten all the way here just to turn back now.

  “Bring it on,” I muttered as I opened the door and stepped inside.

  The inside of the cottage was neat as a pin, just the way Nana always kept it, with one big difference. There were moondrops everywhere. Stuffed in every vase, piled on the end tables, filling the cauldron over the fireplace, which was prepped for a blaze but unlit. They couldn’t have been picked too long ago, because not a single one was wilted or drooping.

  “Nana?” I moved cautiously through the living room, watching and listening for any sign of movement. “Are you in here? I’ve brought something for you.”

  When I reached the middle of the room, an unsteady voice called, “Aurora, is that you?”

  “Nana!” Relief flooded me, and I dashed to the bedroom and flung the door open. There were more moondrops in here—and my Nana, half-propped on pillows and covered to her chin, with a smile on her face. “I knew you weren’t dead,” I said.

  “Of course I’m not.” She shifted and sat up a little straighter. “It’s been so long, dear. Come closer, so I can see your pretty face.”

  My relief started to fade. That wasn’t a very Nana-like thing to say. I took a few steps toward the bed, and said, “So what’s with all the flowers?”

  “Oh, I think they’re lovely.” Another shift brought her almost upright. “Don’t you?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Nana, you really shouldn’t get up. Mom said you were too sick.”

  Her smile widened. “But I’m feeling better now that you’re here, dear. Come and sit with me.” She patted the blanket.

  This was so not right. The wor
st of it was the overwhelming urge to do exactly what she said, far stronger than the one driving me to pick the flowers. I knew if I sat next to her, it would be all over. Because that wasn’t my Nana.

  Maybe if I said it out loud, the rest of me would get the idea.

  I cleared my throat. “Nana. Your ears are really big.”

  “It’s old age, dear. Everything spreads out.”

  My traitorous foot took another step toward the bed. “Nana. Your eyes are really big, too. Your pupils are dilated.”

  “The light’s no good in here,” she said. “Makes it easier to see you, dear.”

  I moved forward again, shaking with the effort to stop. “Nana,” I whispered.

  “Yes, dear?” The smile became a gaping leer. It was filled with fangs.

  I swallowed hard. “What big teeth you have.”

  She sprang up straight, throwing the blankets away in a single, smooth motion. “Well, then!” she said. “I suppose I’ll just have to eat you.”

  With that, Nana’s face began to melt.

  Chapter 11

  Watching the skin ripple and slide down Nana’s face shocked me out of whatever trance had kept me moving toward the bed. Instead of sticking around to watch the transformation, I turned and bolted from the bedroom.

  The bloodcurdling howl of the wolf chased after me.

  I blundered into the living room and managed to bang into every piece of furniture on my way to the front door. The stand was right where it should be. And there must’ve been two dozen umbrella handles sticking out of the opening.

  I had no idea which one held the silver dagger.

  “Great,” I muttered, and grabbed one at random. I opened the snaps and pushed the spring release catch. The umbrella popped open with a flump, displaying a bright forest-themed canopy. So, not this one. I tossed it aside with a groan. Only twenty or so more to go.

  Just as I laid hand to the next, the grinning wolf padded in through the arched entryway at the far end of the room. It was smaller than a horse this time—the compact domestic version, perfect for stalking victims in cottages. But its teeth were just as wicked.

  “Stay back!” I popped the umbrella. Flump. This one had a lovely floral pattern.

  I flung it after the first one. “Nana, why do you have so many umbrellas?” I shouted, and grabbed another.

  Flump. Waterfalls.

  A low, bubbling chuckle filled the room. It was coming from the wolf. The beast stepped forward and reared onto its hind legs, as if to pounce—but instead of lunging, it straightened to full height. Smoke curled from its rippling fur. The awful laugh continued until the smoke dissipated, leaving something that was no longer a wolf.

  My jaw clenched. “Jack.”

  “Guilty as charged. I never was very good at shifting females.” He bowed at the waist and came up grinning. “What’s wrong, Red? Afraid I’ll rain on your parade?”

  “Don’t call me that.” I snatched another umbrella. “I don’t like you anymore.”

  “Gee, why not? I’m such a nice, wholesome guy.” He scrunched his face and said in a mocking tone, “Oh, the big, bad plane is so scary. Help me, kind stranger.” He laughed again. “I can’t believe you fell for that.”

  I pointed the umbrella at him and pushed the button. Flump. Clouds and rainbows.

  “Damn it!” I threw it at him anyway.

  He batted it aside effortlessly. “Seriously, what are you doing with those? You’ve already run into my wolf. You could’ve tried a little harder, maybe brought a gun or something.”

  “Where’s my Nana?” My fingers wrapped around the next handle. It felt a little heavier than the others. Please be this one.

  The shapeshifter sneered. “Like I’d tell you,” he said, moving closer. “Do you think I lured you out here for tea and cookies? You’re going to die, little Red.”

  “Not today, Jack.” I yanked the umbrella out and hit the button. This time, there was a metallic ring as the shaft dropped away and clattered to the floor—leaving me with a silver stiletto dagger.

  But before I could savor my success, the front door banged open behind me. And a deep, familiar voice said, “Mirrors. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “You!” Jack snarled as he looked beyond me, his face twisted in a mask of rage. “How many times do I have to break you, druid?”

  “At least once more, Master Jack.”

  I shivered all over. Druid? Master Jack? Unable to stop myself, I turned slowly to find the big bear filling the doorway. He wore his cloak, but the hood was pushed back—and the runes burned into his neck blazed with silver light.

  He stepped inside and pulled the door shut. “I’m waiting.”

  “Well, then,” Jack said with a horrible smile. “Let’s get this over with. I don’t think our girl is going anywhere.” He was already transforming as he spoke—flesh bubbling and shifting, voice dropping to a throaty growl.

  The big bear caught my eye, just for an instant. “Kill him,” he whispered. “Please.”

  Then he shoved me aside, just before the wolf lunged with fangs bared.

  The man caught the wolf by the throat. They both went down, rolling past me in a flurry of locked limbs. But his grip must not have been that strong. The wolf twisted away from him almost instantly and raked razor-sharp claws across his chest, tearing cloth and flesh in a single pass.

  He let out a pained gasp, rolled away, and stumbled to his feet. “Really, Master Jack. You can do better than that.” He backed away slowly as the wolf’s muzzle wrinkled in a vicious snarl.

  While the creature’s attention was on him, I jumped on its back and plunged the dagger into its chest.

  It let out a high-pitched howl. I had no idea whether I’d pierced its heart, and I didn’t get to find out—because it bucked me right off. At least I managed to keep my grip on the dagger. But I landed on my back, and the wolf twisted like a furry snake to leap straight for my throat.

  Instinctively, I drew the edge of the cloak up to shield my face. The wolf’s jaw clamped on my arm, and claws scraped along my side. I braced myself for pain—but nothing got through the fabric.

  So that’s what the cloak protected me from. Sharp wolf bits.

  “Hey!” the big man shouted. “I’m still standing.”

  Growling, the wolf spat my arm out and leapt away. I sat up just in time to see the druid, or whatever he was, running for Nana’s kitchen with the wolf at his heels. “Get rid of those damned flowers!” he spat just before I lost sight of him.

  The wolf roared in response. A thud shook the cottage, and the big man screamed. The sound twisted my gut into knots.

  I didn’t know how it would help to get rid of the flowers. But I figured it was probably a good idea to listen, especially since the suggestion seemed to piss off the wolf. Anything bad for him was good for me.

  Fire would be fastest. Thankful that Nana always kept the fireplace ready to light, I grabbed a box of the matches she kept on the mantel and struck one, then touched it to the dry kindling piled neatly on the logs. The blaze caught right away. I grabbed handfuls of moondrops out of the cauldron and fed them to the fire.

  Just as I’d dropped the last few onto the flames, something crashed in the kitchen. The wolf let out a barking snarl that was followed by a low, moaning sob.

  My heart seized. I dashed around the room, grabbing as many moondrops as I could carry, and dumped them into the fireplace. One more round seemed to get them all. I tossed the final handful in—and the big bear lurched through the entryway, breathing hard and bleeding everywhere. He stared at me and fell to his knees. “Don’t believe him,” he rasped.

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Don’t help him,” an identical voice rasped from the shadows just beyond the entryway. “That’s Jack.”

  My eyes almost fell out of my head as a second big bear emerged to join the first.

  Chapter 12

  I looked from one to the other, battling shock and trying to find a diff
erence. Any difference. They were the exact same height, same width, and bore the same injuries. The same runes marked the same spots on their necks. Two sets of dark blue eyes gazed at me.

  Both of them winced and bared their teeth in an identical grimace—regular human teeth. I guessed he really was better at males.

  “I can’t…” I backed up a step and raised the dagger. The double image was making me dizzy. “You’re Jack,” I said, pointing the blade at the one on the left.

  “No, he is.”

  “Don’t listen. He’s Jack,” the other one said.

  “Shut up!” How the hell was I going to tell them apart? I was pretty sure if I stabbed the one who wasn’t Jack, he’d die without the spell reversal to help him along. That definitely wasn’t the right way to find out which was who. “Okay,” I said. “Why was I supposed to destroy the flowers?”

  “They block spell casting,” both men said at the same time.

  “Where’s my Nana?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.” Once again in unison. They glared at each other and made identical sounds of frustration.

  Terrific. Questioning wasn’t going to work—the guy was too smart. He’d just give the answers I wanted to hear every time. I lifted the dagger again, this time directing it at the one on the right. “Maybe I should just gut you both,” I said. “I’m not very good at guessing games.”

  The one I was currently threatening rolled his eyes. “Just kill him, Ms. Roberts.”

  “See?” the other one said. “He doesn’t even know your name. He’s Jack!”

  I smiled. “You’re right,” I said, moving toward the eye-rolling one. “He doesn’t know my name.”

  When I got within striking distance, I pivoted left and thrust the dagger into the chest of the fake innkeeper. “Because I never told him who I was. Jack.”

  His eyes widened and flashed from blue to brown. He coughed, and blood bubbled from his lips. Then he reached for the knife handle.