Gypsy's Blood (Page 11)

Like every scary forest scene in a horror movie, I hear an ominous crack that has me coming to an abrupt halt and spinning around.

Anna jumps, whirling around as well, and we both stare for a second.

“It’s going to be right behind us. One of us should have stayed facing the other way,” she says as she screws her eyes shut and tenses.

“You’re already dead,” I hiss at her.

A shadow accompanies a scurrying sound, and I spin back around, searching my body for anything that can be used as a weapon. I elect to use my belt, since it’s just for looks. My pants are in no danger of falling off my ass without it, so I tear it away and wind it around my hand.

There’s nothing but white, dimly lit snow, and I glance up. Even though the sun still has an hour or so until it sets, it’s getting lost in the distance, the thick canopy of the tall trees in the woods blocking it out.

Not good.

At all.

I should have planned against that, but despite having an excellent sense of direction, trekking around in the woods isn’t something I’ve ever done before.

“Is now a good time to tell you how stupid it was to come out into the woods alone?” Anna snaps.

Before I can point out that she’s the only ‘person’ I know in town, there’s a loud, vicious growl sounding much too close to my back.

Anna disappears, and I slowly close my eyes while trying not to make any sudden movements.

“Don’t worry! It’s just Grandma!” Anna shouts from somewhere behind me.

I’m not sure why gulping is a thing when you want to piss your pants, but it is. Because I do that just before giving a little tremble of terror.

“Oh my, what big teeth you have, Grandma,” Anna adds dramatically. “And those eyes are so big,” she prattles on as fear inches its way up my spine.

You have got to be kidding me. A wolf? A freaking wolf? I glance down, not amused by the irony of the fact I look way too much like the stupid Red Riding Hood who elected to leave her shotgun behind.

I should have brought that damn basket full of wolf’s bane. At least I could have used it to create an on-the-fly potion to scare them off…

Damn it. Anna told me to bring a basket.

My eyes open just in time to see a flash of gray, black, and reddish-brown fur scurry by in the distance, as a telling howl almost makes this horrifying moment in my life feel cliché.

My mother always said the universe has a twisted sense of humor, hence the reason gypsies like us even exist.

I’m not amused.

“Has Grandma always had this tail?” Anna asks like she’s confused.

I can’t even.

Shadows slowly turn into more visible forms, as the wolves from the distance inch closer with slow, deliberate motions, teeth bared and growls rumbling.

“Oh, Grandma has a lot of friends,” Anna says with a slight tremor of fear in her voice. “I don’t think they’re here to play Bingo.”

Heavy paws clap the forest floor, sending up chunks of snow, as they prowl closer and closer.

“Holy fucking shit. Grandma is a wolf, and so are all her friends!” Anna shouts with a hint of lucidity.

“Don’t worry. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be fine—”

“Hoooo-yaaaaa!” she shouts as she unleashes the small bit of telekinesis she’s mastered.

A wolf yelps as it crashes into a nearby tree, and all the wolves growl and begin snapping their jaws in response.

“That’s the something stupid I was referring to,” I gripe, just as they all lunge.

I twirl the cloak over me as I drop to my knees, shielding myself from at least watching my own body get ripped to shreds, clinging to the pointless belt still in my hand.

A startled wolf cries into the air, just as a weight crashes into my side, sending an explosion of pain rippling through my body, as I briefly lose control of all my extremities.

My body folds in on itself, feeling airborne for a sickening second, before I feel the revolting sensation of dropping. The fall is worse than the landing, because I sink into the powdered snow…the three feet it has rapidly risen.

Another wolf yelps and I brace, worried it’s about to do whatever again, but nothing happens.

Spitting out blood, I tear the hood back and push my hair out of my face, dimly seeing a man’s figure as he spins, kicking out a foot and nailing a wolf in the chest.

“Do you really think this will end well for you lot?” a familiar voice drawls, while the lone figure stands ready against the seven wolves who are surrounding him now.

My vision adjusts in time to see Vancetto Valhinseng, the man with the mouthful of a name, talking to the vicious, possibly rabid wolves, as they snap their jaws at him.

“Well, then. I guess we’ll play it your way,” he says as he leisurely removes his jacket and neatly folds it over a low-hanging branch like he has no fear at all.

My brow furrows when he pulls out what looks like two handles, and very shiny swords grow from the handles like they were magically hidden all along.

The wolves take a step back, almost as though they’re hesitating. Vancetto smirks when one finally launches itself at him from the side.

In an unnatural blur of motion, he dodges the wolf. I never saw him swing the sword, but the wolf crashes with a yelp as blood starts staining the snow around him.

When he’s slow to get up, the other wolves fly at Vancetto in a mass attack.

Anna is on her knees at my side, her eyes as wide as mine, while we watch Vancetto move like air, never disturbing the ground under him. He slices and moves through the fray, never once even ruffling his perfect shirt or dressy slacks.

He’s even careful to dodge the sprays of blood, masterfully flipping, moving, and fighting as though he was bred for exactly this.

He almost looks like he’s enjoying himself as he toys with them, hurting them, punching them, leaving them gravely wounded but still alive after each of his strikes.

“I take it back. I want to borrow your body and fuck him instead of the Damien fellow,” Anna says a little dreamily.

I’m too stunned to really say anything.

The wolves give one final cry of furious frustration before turning and fleeing, leaving only one behind that is breathing shallowly, eyes half closed like he’s dying.

I pat down my body, finding two vials of my healing potion tucked away in my bra. Stupidly, I move to the wolf, who barely cants its head at me, while Vancetto yells to the ones retreating.

“Come on my land, and this ends very fucking differently next time,” he shouts, still seeming to be enjoying himself above all else.

The wolf growls at me, trying and failing to move when I approach. Animals don’t know any better, especially since Anna struck first. It’s not its fault for being true to its nature.

Without getting too close, I pour the liquid on the most fatal wound.

“What the hell are you doing? Get away from him!” Vancetto snaps. “This is wolf territory, and he likely feels as though it’s his right to eat you alive if he desires, because you certainly have no right to be here. You shouldn’t have been able to get in.”

Vancetto grabs me under the arm, roughly tugging me to my feet, and I cast a look over my shoulder, seeing the animal almost appear confused, as Vancetto begins dragging me away.

Maybe I hit my head too hard.

“He’s just an animal, and that barbed-wire fence isn’t exactly a huge hurdle to have to overcome to get onto this land,” I point out.

“Why are you out here?” he growls as he grabs his jacket with his free hand and continues to drag me out of the darkening forest.

I don’t put up a fight, because I’m definitely ready to go, and it’s clear he’s my safest option for getting out.

“Are you a gypsy hunter?” I ask him seriously. “Because the way you moved back there—”

His head tips back and he outright laughs, his steps slowing, while he laughs so loud it echoes through the woods.

Anna twirls her finger in a circle next to her ear before making a coo-coo sound.

I ignore her, because, well, I think everyone out here is actually a little crazy, so there’s no room for judgment.

Since, he still hasn’t acknowledged Anna, I feel stupid for asking him if he’s a gypsy hunter. They can see ghosts, after all. But what the actual hell is he if not a gypsy hunter? No regular person can move like that.

His laughter tapers off into sort of a confused sound, as his eyes narrow on me.

“You’re not playing dumb right now, are you?” he asks, renewing his efforts to steer us out of the forest at a pace I struggle to keep up with.

“She has a flesh and blood vagina that has been collecting cobwebs since before I knew her, so no, I don’t think she’s playing dumb,” Anna says sourly. “Perfectly good waste of a corporeal form when the alpha male of all alpha males saves your precious vagina’s life,” she adds under her breath.

Vancetto sighs as he looks away, lightly shaking his head. I almost think he’s heard her, but I realize that would warrant at least some form of reaction from someone who hasn’t dealt with her for months.

It takes a while to keep a straight face around Anna.

“Can I ask why you just happen to be in the woods with two handles that turn into swords? Where did those go? What are they?” I go on.