Red Read online

  "So, do you think all our throats will be ripped out this full moon?" he asks nonchalantly.

  "Oh most definitely. Our bellies will be slashed, our entrails pulled from our bodies, our limbs ripped off piece by piece!" I wave my arms in dramatic effect, like one of the story-tellers in the town square performing for the children. An older woman scowls at us as we pass and I pull my lips inward to hide my smile. We shouldn’t joke about the Beast. We both know it, but for some reason, Kieran and I can never help ourselves. I think it's our way of coping with the mounting tension the full moon brings. He throws his head back and laughs, the sound warm and infectious and I join in. That woman can scowl all she wants.

  We make our way to the market and I head to a stand selling fruit. I inspect the apples, delighted that they're ripe and sweet. Duncan loves them and I've been wanting to make a pie for ages, but we usually can't afford them. Thanks to the buck, today we can. I smile at the thought.

  Kieran leans in behind me and growls low in my ear, "or maybe the Beast will steal you away in the night and make you its bride." I laugh and smack his arm when he reaches over me to pluck an apple from the stack. He turns to lean casually against the stand and bites into the deep red fruit. Juice runs down his chin and my eyes track the movement, my tongue darting out over my own lips. It’s been a while since we’ve had a distraction, and my body is suddenly very eager for one. He notices and gets that look in his eyes, the one I know as well as the back of my hand, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

  He leans in close and whispers, "Meet me at the old mill in an hour." I shiver as his breath tickles my ear, then the shiver deepens at the thoughts his whisper conjures. I really shouldn't. I've got plenty to take care of today, and despite Duncan being in a decent mood due to the excess food and the coin earned from those travelers, he won’t appreciate me disappearing all afternoon.

  I really can’t...

  But I'm going to anyway.

  I need a distraction. Not just physically, but mentally. Just like the rest of the village, the approaching full moon makes me tense, and I can’t think of a better way to relax. I give him a nod and he smiles again, chucking me lightly under the chin with his knuckles before heading off.

  I manage to sell all of the meat for even more than I originally planned and my basket is nearly overflowing by the time I begin to make my way towards the old chapel. I'm even coming back tomorrow to pick up a new dress, two new pairs of trousers for Duncan, and the cobbler thinks he can repair my worn boots as well. We haven’t been able to shop like this for quite a while and the feeling is making me a bit giddy.

  Despite the oppressive tension settling over the village, today has been one of the best days I've had in months, and the thought of topping it off with Kieran has me practically floating. I see Elizabeth Denton ahead with a few of her little underlings and my mood immediately sours. I push my shoulders back and hold my head high as I grow closer, determined not to let them ruin this day. They all giggle wildly at something Elizabeth whispers as I walk by. Doesn't matter, just keep moving.

  “Oh Re-edddd!” she calls in a sing-song voice, her high-pitched voice grating on my ears. My spine stiffens and I stop. Alright then, I guess we are having a row after all. Part of me grins at the thought—I usually walk away the victor. I turn, a pleasant smile on my lips.

  “Can I help you, Lizzy?” She scowls at her childhood nickname. Everyone else has abided her wishes to go by “Elizabeth” now instead. Not me. Her scowl fades and her lips curl upwards.

  “I heard something, and I'm just dying to know if it's true.”

  “Is it that you’re an insipid cow? Because, yes, that is, in fact, completely true.” Her already too-big eyes bug out of her skull and her mouth drops open. A couple of her friends begin to giggle, but hide their laughter behind small coughs when she turns a murderous glare on them. I know I shouldn’t antagonize her, but I can’t help myself. She'd taken common teasing and relatively innocent childhood cruelty to a completely new level when she'd conspired with William...

  I shake off the memories, my cheeks heating with embarrassment and rage, even after all these years. She turns back to me, recovering her composure.

  “Henry Owens says that you like to be taken from behind like an animal." She and her friends laugh loudly. "Though, we shouldn't be surprised, should we? She lives with those beasts after all." Her face pinches in disgust. I take a deep breath through my nose before responding. I've never so much as looked twice at Henry Owens, let alone done anything more, but men here just think they can tell whatever stories they like about me, all thanks to Lizzy. If all the tales were to be believed, I've slept with every single man in Silverwood—a few of the women as well. I daresay I'm quite tired in this imaginary life.

  I tap my nail on my chin, looking thoughtful. "That's odd, because he told me that he prefers to take you that way so that he doesn't have to look upon your face during the act." I lean in and whisper loudly, "When he does, he...loses his nerve, if you understand my meaning." Her face goes white and then beet red. I imagine I can even see steam coming out of her ears and have to hide my grin.

  "You little bitch," she hisses. "How dare you speak to me that way!"

  I take a step closer to her and she flinches backward, afraid I'm going to attack her I suppose. That has only happened once...or half a dozen times in our lives. I move forward once more, slower, so she can tell I don't mean any physical harm.

  I lean in and whisper, "You don't want to begin this with me, Lizzy. Not today. You forget where I work. Your father is there more than he's at home and he does so enjoying talking while he's in his whisky." I can feel her stiffen. "I'll bet your friends don’t know how many men your father has desperately tried to get to take your hand...how many have turned him down flat..." She sucks in a quick breath. "Or that you're almost as penniless as I am, so he can’t even pay one to take you off his hands.” It's a cruel thing to say, but I don’t care. She is a despicable person and I have no problem matching her inch by despicable inch. “Now, unless you want everyone to know, I'd suggest you leave me the hell alone."

  I pull back and meet her gaze. She’s stuck somewhere between enraged, embarrassed, and heartbroken. I feel a tiny twinge of regret, but shove it aside. I smile politely at her and throw her friends a sarcastic wiggle of my fingers in goodbye before turning to walk away, perhaps putting a little extra roll in my hips as I do, just to spite her. She's always been jealous of my figure, might as well remind her of that fact now.

  I make my way around the outskirts of the village, towards what's left of the old mill. This part of town was mostly destroyed by a fire several years ago and never rebuilt. It's the closest to the gate and I think most people were secretly relieved that it was destroyed, happy to relocate somewhere not quite so near the entrance to the woods. I'm not sure why no one has ever cleared out the wreckage, but I can't complain: it's usually deserted and enough of the mill still stands to be a perfect meeting place with Kieran. A smile spreads across my face as I think about what the afternoon will entail, what wicked things he has in store for me. What wicked things I plan to do back.

  I know these meetings won't last much longer. He'll be married soon to someone from a well-to-do family and our youthful dalliances will be nothing but fond memories, but that's as it should be. He deserves a good wife from a good family. He deserves the best life and I want that for him so badly.

  I'm lost in my own thoughts so I don't hear him behind me at first, not until he speaks.

  "Well, well, well. Hello, Red."

  My blood goes cold and I freeze in my tracks. I know that voice and it is not someone I want to run into today. Any day actually. Thomas Thaylin is the son of the Head of the Council and is well known for doing what he wants, when he wants, to whomever he wants, with no consequences. He is one of the men whose interest I most certainly did not return. He's made comments and advancements since we were younger, but only recently has it turned more...predatory
. And I'm not the only focus of his attentions.

  There was a girl a little younger than us, Celine Fraser, who was attacked earlier in the year. She was violated in unspeakable ways and the injuries she sustained were too much for her frail body to withstand. I shouldn't know all the details, but Duncan had been the one to find her bruised and broken body left out behind our stable. I'd sat with her while he fetched the healer, not that he would get there in time. She was covered in so much blood and grime, I could barely count all of the wounds, and I knew there were too many that I couldn't see as well.

  She recounted what had happened in a voice that was barely a whisper, her breaths labored and pained. I had barely contained sobs as she spoke, as I saw perfectly in my mind the horrors she'd experienced. She squeezed my hand with tears in her eyes, asked for her mother, and then took her last breath, her tiny chest stilling before my eyes. It is a night that will haunt me for as long as I live.

  According to the Council, the culprit was caught and sent to the woods immediately, not spending any time at all in the jailhouse, but I knew the truth: it had been Thomas and his friends. Of course, it didn't matter that I heard the evidence right from Celine's lips or even the boasting from Thomas' own mouth at the tavern a few weeks later when he was well into the ale. Really, it wouldn't have mattered if the constable had witnessed the attack himself—nothing could touch Thomas.

  Despite knowing the depths of his wickedness, I made the mistake of making my lack of interest in him perfectly clear two months ago when he palmed my ass without permission as I passed him on the street. I may have made my point with a knee between his legs and a slap of my palm across his cheek. I'd known better, but my temper had spun out of control. Pure dumb luck and a deal of some sort made by Duncan with Thomas' father had saved me from the gallows. Or rather, the woods on the full moon. He'd been away since then, visiting a relative in the north somewhere, but apparently he was back now.

  My entire body thrums with tension as I turn to find him only a few feet away. I immediately edge backwards and he smiles a dark, sickening smile. Thomas isn't handsome, but he isn't completely unattractive either I suppose. I'd call him average, even a bit bland. His eyes are the color of mud, nothing unusual or pretty about them. His lips are thin, his nose wide and slightly crooked, his hair a dull, light brown. The fact that he's a monster inside probably doesn't help the way I see him physically.

  I glance around, trying to assess my options. Perhaps I can outrun him? Hide in one of the destroyed buildings? Maybe Kieran will be at the mill already and will hear me if I scream. Would he intervene? I know that he would and immediately resolve not to make a sound no matter what happens. I will not let Kieran ruin his future for me. Anyone who fights Thomas loses in the end.

  I continue to move backwards but Thomas matches my steps. Slowly. Deliberately. Letting me know that he's choosing to let me keep moving. My heart is about to race from my chest, but I attempt to remain calm. I clear my throat.

  "Hello, Thomas. I didn't know that you'd returned."

  "Only just. Imagine my luck that I caught sight of that red cloak fluttering in the wind as you turned the corner just as I was riding back into town."

  "Luck...well, that's one word for it," I spit. I bite the inside of my cheek, reminding myself to watch my tongue. "But, I'm sorry, I have to go. I'm just on my way to meet Duncan. He'll be wondering where I am," I lie, hoping he believes me. Though I don't quite know why, I do know that Thomas is terrified of Duncan, so if he thinks that the almost seven-foot-tall burly man is nearby, maybe, just maybe, he'll leave me alone.

  "Hmm...I don't think so, Red. I happen to know that Duncan is meeting with my father and the rest of the Council this very minute. I saw them walking into the Meeting Hall together." Before I can even regret my failed gamble, he's in front of me. He grabs my arms, holding me still when I try to pull away. He's not much taller than I am, but he's far bulkier and stronger—having a steady influx of meals has its advantages. He leans in until his lips are only an inch from my own. His breath smells like stale whisky and I cringe away.

  He whispers, "Now, I think you owe me an apology for how you behaved the last time we met. You got me shipped off to visit with my insufferable cousins for the last two months. My father said he was tired of cleaning up my 'messes'," he says with a roll of his eyes, "and thought some time away would be...helpful.” He shrugs and smiles again. “He was wrong. So, I'm waiting, Red." A small part of my mind registers that Thomas' father at least knows that there was a monster masquerading as his son, but the fact that he still does nothing to stop it is appalling. Then the rest of his words sink in.

  He expects me to apologize to him? When he accosted me in the first place? I grind my teeth in irritation despite the fear that is starting to claw at my chest.

  "You did a number on my bollocks last time, Red. Perhaps you should kiss them and make them better." He shifts his body even closer to mine, letting me know exactly how fond he is of that idea, and smiles that snake’s smile. I wrench my body away, but he holds fast and a second later he slams his mouth against mine. I clamp my lips closed, desperate to keep him out, but he forces them open. I gag when his tongue invades my mouth and thrash my head to the side to get away. After an insufferably long moment, he loosens his grip and I stumble backwards, landing hard in the dirt. My basket slides off of my arm and skids several feet away.

  He laughs, but unlike Kieran's warm, joyful sound, Thomas' is cold and cruel. I flip over to my hands and knees, trying to push myself back up. Stones and sticks dig into my palms and I can feel my skin rip open. Thomas is on top of me in an instant, forcing me back to the ground, his weight pinning me. The breath rushes from my lungs and he flips me over quickly as if I'm a ragdoll. He straddles my hips and pins my wrists beside my temples. I try to buck him off but he doesn't budge. He laughs again and it chills me to my bones.

  He moves my hands up to capture both wrists with one large hand above my head, forcing my chest to arch upwards. Again, I struggle. Again, it's to no avail. He rips at the laces of my bodice, easily tearing the flimsy strings free. I feel the cool air against my exposed skin and he pulls back to study his prize. His eyes burn with something I don't want to name, something that makes my skin crawl and my heartbeat drum loudly in my ears. Images of Celine flash through my mind and I feel tears burning the backs of my eyes. I thrash once more before I feel the kiss of cold metal against my throat. I hadn't even seen him draw the blade. I still immediately.

  "Now, you're going to stop fighting me, or we're going to paint this pretty cream skin of yours to match your cloak, do you understand me, Red?" He looks like he would actually enjoy doing it, a slight gleam of excitement in his eyes, as if part of him wishes I would fight so he'd have an excuse to slice my throat. Fear unlike anything I've ever known begins to unfurl in my belly. I can't suppress the shudder that works its way through my body. There is something dark inside of Thomas, something wrong. To emphasize his point, his pushes the blade forward, deep enough that I feel the sharp sting as the iron slices through my skin. Warm blood trickles down my neck. I hiss at the pain but I don't dare move even an inch, despite the instinct to flinch away. "Good girl," he purrs.

  My heart is pounding so hard I fear it may come out of my chest. He kisses me again and I don't fight. I don't partake, but I don't fight. He seems to take it as a sign that I've completely acquiesced to this and eases the knife away from my throat. He kisses down my throat to my chest and I clench my eyes shut. He is vile and I feel like every part of me that he's touched is now tainted forever. He groans against my skin and drops the knife to reach down and pull up the skirt of my dress.

  No!

  Panic is rising within me and I'm finding it hard to breathe. I can't believe this is happening. And what's worse is that I know that nothing will be done even if I go to the constable, even if I go to the Council themselves—he'll get away with this violation as if it were nothing. Will I even survive? Or will he hurt me as he h
urt Celine?

  Anger flares, fighting to overtake the fear. Anger at the way of our village. Anger at Thomas. Anger at the life I've been given. Anger at everything. I don't want to die, but I refuse to let this happen without a fight. Duncan has cursed my fiery nature on more than one occasion. Time to let it burn.

  I clench my knees together and begin to thrash once more. His fingers curl painfully against the skin of my thigh as he leans back and grins. He seems excited that I'm fighting him now, despite his warning not to. He licks his lips and I want to vomit. He stops trying to force his hand further between my thighs, at least for the moment, and I suck in a ragged, relieved breath.

  "You really are the most mouthwatering woman in the entire village. That raven hair stark against your smooth, cream-white skin." He trails a finger down my neck and over the top swell of my left breast. "Those emerald eyes. Those full, red lips that were just made to do sinful things...it really is too bad you're just a barmaid." Too bad I'm just a barmaid. Too bad I'm not worthy of being really considered as a suitable companion by even a monster like Thomas. A burning hate suddenly springs from deep within me, feeling like a fire raging in my chest. When Thomas leans back down to kiss me again, I whip my head forward without thinking. My vision blurs when my forehead makes contact, pain shooting through my skull. He rears back, cursing, and when my vision clears, I see blood pouring from his nose.

  As I dig my hands into the dirt to scramble backwards, my fingertips brush the cool metal of the knife. I grab the hilt and lunge forward, slashing out at his chest. I don't think it's a very deep cut, but it's enough to startle him. He flings himself backwards and I'm free. I somehow manage to push to my feet and brandish the knife in front of me. I pull the opening of my bodice closed as best as I can with one hand, disgusted by the thought of him seeing my exposed body for another second. Blood continues to pour from his nose and when he grins at me again, it runs over his teeth. I don't think I've ever seen anything so terrifying.