Red Rider RIsing: Book 2 of the Red Rider Saga by D.A. Randall (ebook e reader .txt) 📕

started wearing trousers before today, either. “All I want is a drink.”

Touraine shook his head, his brown eyes apologizing. “I couldn’t serve you.”

“Oh, come now, Gerard.” The man fished out some coins to toss on the counter. “Here, Mademoiselle. I’ll buy you one.”

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“Move on,” Touraine ordered the men. “I’ll handle this. Find yourselves a table. We’ll talk later.”

The second man held up his hands. “We’re only teasing her, Gerard. Don’t get excited.”

Touraine leaned toward them suddenly, almost menacing. “Find a table,” he repeated.

The men climbed awkwardly down from their stools and walked away, staring over their shoulders at Touraine as he watched them go.

“I only want water,” I said. “Can you serve me that?”

Touraine paused to consider, then turned to grab a fresh mug.

“I am also curious,” I said as he filled it.

“You’re curious?” he asked, amused. “You enter a tavern with that huge cloak and you’re curious. Very well. What are you curious about, Mademoiselle?”

“Wolves.”

His wrist twitched, then continued to fill the mug. He set it on the counter before me, his head down. He looked up. “Wolves in general?”

“Wolves in particular. A large wolf that killed a little girl near here.”

“Heard about that. Tragic.”

“She was my sister.”

Touraine buried his heavy gaze in the floor.

“… Very sorry, Mademoiselle.”

“I’m curious about that wolf. A lot of people pass through here. Have you heard anything about it?”

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He narrowed his eyes, looking confused.

“Why should I tell you if I did?”

“Tell me tonight and you’ll know why tomorrow.”

He stepped around the counter. “I think someone should see you home, Mademoiselle.”

“I have no home,” I said. The sudden rise in my voice stopped him cold. “The wolves took it from me.”

“Well, what about your parents?”

My shoulders trembled as I thought of Mama and Papa and Suzette. I stiffened to hide it.

“… The wolves took everything.”

He

swallowed.

“I’m

so

sorry,

Mademoiselle. I am. But I don’t see how I can help you.”

“You can’t tell me what you know about the wolves that killed my mother and father and little sister? That keep killing off more and more people in the village? I only want to know what they are, what they might be doing.”

“Look. I understand you’re hurting. But whatever killed your parents and your sister is dangerous. Probably more dangerous than you can imagine. It’s no business of mine and certainly no business of yours. And I don’t think you want me to hear of another young girl’s death tomorrow.

Do you?”

“But you have heard things. Haven’t you?”

He started to say something. Then chewed on his lip.

“I think they’re the same wolves that killed Francois,” I prodded.

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“Francois was a good man,” he said, his lip protruding in a sideways pout. “A very good man.”

“He was too late to save my Grand’Mere from the wolf, but he saved me. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here. He was my hero. He still is. He’s the one who sent me to you.”

Touraine shot a look at me and narrowed his eyes. “How’s that?”

“He said if I ever needed to know anything about anything in the village or beyond, you would be the one to ask.”

That was not quite true. Francois had told me to seek Touraine out if I got in real trouble. But this qualified. I needed help and Touraine was the one who could give it.

I pressed on. “He also said people need to stand up and do something to help others. Or there would be more killings. More children suffering.

He said we can’t let fear stop us from doing what’s right, because some things are worth fighting for.”

Touraine lifted his chin. “Francois said that?”

I stiffened my jaw. “Yes.”

He stared hard at me. Then relaxed. “Yeah, that sounds like something Francois would say.

Good man.”

“But he’s gone now,” I said, leaning forward on the stool. “He’s dead. A pack of wolves broke into his home and killed him.”

Touraine nodded. “I know.”

“You also know something about those wolves. I’m a good hunter. If you tell me, I can 188

stop some of them, at least. If you don’t, they’ll keep killing.”

He still hesitated, but seemed intrigued.

Almost believing me.

“Please.”

He studied me another moment. Then he resumed his position behind the counter and leaned over it. “If I don’t tell you, I expect you’ll find out from someone else. Won’t you?”

I nodded.

“All right, Mademoiselle. Don’t ask anyone but me. Understand? You want to know anything, or if something