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

heap beside it. He had finished the work and lowered the container to the floor, mindful of my modesty by not entering the room.

He was a good man. Better than I had thought, while he cared for Mama and Suzette over the past several months. Better than I treated him.

Still, for all he had done to help us during the war and for all he did to shelter me now, he had still abandoned us when we needed him most. When I needed him most. After the wolf attacked, we needed courage and guidance, but he was away visiting other provinces, other churches. Seeking his own escape instead of facing them down, however he could. If he wanted to help me now, I would gladly accept it, but I couldn’t forget the past.

I sighed and grunted. I had no time to mourn his choices. From the look of the sunrays filtering from upstairs and my well-rested state, it was already midday. Only a few hours left to report last night’s events to Pierre before darkness set in again.

I reached for my clothes and carried them to the cot with my cloak and boots. Time to set to work.

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30.

L’atelier de Forgeron de Leóne smelled of rich oil and fire from the day’s work, nearly over now as dusk approached. Monsieur Leóne was away again, delivering special orders and securing more material.

Pierre could not stop gaping at me for the entire time I told my tale. The events of last night –

the Lycanthru, their ability to speak, the clear effect of the silver bolts, their new fear of my hood

– every detail enthralled him. I told him everything, except for two significant details.

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“Where did you go afterward?” he asked.

I curled my lip. “I can’t tell you that.”

He blinked, wounded. “Why not?”

“Pierre, I trust you and I value your help.

But I can’t reveal everything that I’m doing. Just trust that I’ve found shelter.”

“But why can’t you stay here? You’re welcome to sleep in the loft anytime you want.”

I touched his hand to show my gratitude. “I know. But I can’t let anyone find me here, or find you. Too many people know I’ve visited you before. That alone places you in danger. And I can’t let anything – I don’t want to endanger you any further.”

His brows curved up with hurt, but he nodded his understanding. “Did you see any of them?”

I blinked. “The wolves?”

“The Lycanthru. Did you see any of their faces? Recognize anyone?”

I stared blankly at him, imagining his obvious emotions on display as one of the Lycanthru – perhaps Duke Laurent himself –

questioned him. I pictured the Lycanthru seeing through Pierre’s attempts to protect me as he claimed to know nothing. I saw them seize him by the throat and drag him deep into the woods where their mouths would transform into hungry jaws.

“No,” I said. “I never saw their faces. I don’t know who any of them are.”

Pierre frowned. “Too bad.” He locked his gaze on me. “Especially if they know who you are.”

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“They don’t. Yet,” I assured him. “But they will.”

“Red, don’t do anything dangerous.”

I blinked at him. “I think it’s too late for that.”

“Anything more dangerous than you’ve already done,” he clarified, sounding annoyed. “If you keep after them, they’re going to come after you. And they’ll find you.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, thinking of the safety of Father Vestille’s hideaway. Wondering how long it might remain safe. “In any event, they’ll be searching for me already, don’t you think?”

Pierre swallowed hard. “Of course. You saw them. Saw what they do. They won’t let that pass.”

I nodded. “Which means I’ve got to stop them first.”

“Red, you can’t! These people – these monsters, whatever they are – how can you stop them? You don’t even know who they are or where to look for them next.”

“I know where to start.”

“All right. Then I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Come on, Red. How do you expect to stop me from