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

– they changed into animals.” I met his eyes, which held horror but no disbelief. “Father Vestille. They’re the wolves that have been attacking everyone. They become wolves.”

Father Vestille stared at me, then

swallowed hard. “Are you all right?” he asked again.

I gave a small nod.

“Did they see you?”

I felt cold inside. “Yes. They chased me. I shot a few of them.”

“You shot them?” He seemed equally horrified.

“Yes,” I said, offended. “It was wise at the time.”

He sighed with some irritation. “Go on.”

“Never mind,” I said, starting to rise.

He remained in his stool and put a hand on my shoulder. His eyes were penitent. “Please.”

I fumed for a moment, then sat back down.

“I saw their leader. He removed his hood to drink 274

some potion that changed him into a wolf.” I swallowed. “It was Duke Leopold Laurent.”

Father Vestille’s eyes widened. He

continued to glare at me for several seconds. “The other day,” he muttered.

I squinted at him. “What day?”

He looked off, grinding his teeth. “The day your – your mother and Suzette – were killed.

Duke Laurent invited me to his chateau for a talk.”

My nerves flared with rage. “About what?”

He set his jaw, narrowing his eyes. “To see how your family was faring. After the loss of your father.”

I gasped and shook. Laurent had planned every attack. The banquet to make Francois drunk while Laurent’s own friends surrounded him at the tavern, waiting to strike at his home later that night. Then luring Father Vestille away from Mama and Suzette so the Lycanthru could murder them in broad daylight.

Laurent.

“Helena. I’m glad you choose to confide in me, but – why, exactly, are you telling me all this now?”

I shivered. We both knew I had pushed him away for years, rejected his every offer of help or friendship. “Someone needs to know,” I said. “I can’t be the only one. Someone else needs to know, in case …” I broke off, uncertain how to finish.

He finished for me, his eyes wide. “In case anything should happen to you.” He rose and turned away, frustrated. “I told you the Lycanthru 275

were dangerous. And if the Duke of La Rue Sauvage is involved –.”

I stood and leaned toward him. “He’s not just involved. He’s leading them!”

“Leading them against you!” he said.

“Because you challenged them. Because you sought them out and found them.”

“I can’t change what I’ve already done.”

“But what will you do now? Will you go on fighting them? Killing them? These are not animals, Helena. They’re human beings.”

“They’re not animals, and they’re not human beings. They left their humanity behind to become these things.”

“You can tell yourself that if you wish. It’s still murder.”

“This is a war!”

“A war you started.”

“No. A war they started. They’re killing innocent people. Innocent children! And you want me to let them!”

“You know I don’t want that.”

“I don’t know what you want. You want to help me. You want to shelter me and care for me.

But you don’t want me to fight the things that killed my family.”

He strode at me. “Because I don’t want them to kill you, too!”

We held one another’s gaze for a moment.

He was shaking.

“I don’t want them to, either,” I said quietly. “But I can’t let them take any more children. Ever again.”

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He struggled to calm himself, unable to respond. He knew what I felt, having hidden my family away during the war. But it seemed he had forgotten how to take risks to protect innocent people.

“Helena. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But I’m worried. Not just for your physical well-being, but also for your soul. If you wage this war, I fear for what you might become.”

My stomach churned. He was like a man with a musket who refused to fire at the predators on his doorstep. “If you’re that concerned about what I’ll become, I can find another place to stay, so you won’t be burdened.”

As I folded my arms and stepped away, I realized I felt something more than disgust at his cowardice. I feared he might be right. If I kept on fighting these monsters, could I become just as cold-hearted and bloodthirsty? Would I become the scar-faced monster that Jacque Denue and his cronies feared?

“You are no burden,” Father Vestille insisted. “You