Hart and Hunter

Chapter 37

Ch. 37: Julian

As I creep through the tall ferns, I'm more conscious than ever of the eerie stillness beneath the trees. The snap of a twig sounds like a gunshot, and it feels as if the tiniest sound will bring some predator down on me.

I couldn't smell it before, but now the sweet, coppery tang of blood tinges the air, and my heart beats faster with anxiety at the thought of what I might be about to discover.

Pushing through the thick fronds, I approach a slight rise in the ground and lower myself to my hands and knees as I draw even with its edge. Beyond the rim, I see the wide, stony bed of a shallow creek. A few meters upstream, I spot the source of the smell: a body, lying face-down in a pool of reddened water.

From the denim jacket, petite frame, and shock of black hair, I recognize Danni Spelling — or the skin-changer that had taken their shape, hopefully. Unless the skin-changer is doing a great impression of a corpse, she, they, or he is definitely dead.

Fearful that whatever did this might still be nearby, I freeze, hardly daring to breathe; but beyond the sound of my heart thudding in my ears, all is quiet.

Deciding to retreat and tell the others what I'd found, I back up and bump into something soft. I turn, expecting to see Freya or Dane, and instead stare up into a pair of familiar amethyst eyes.

I make a sound, as much of relief as of surprise, but strangely, my grandmother doesn't seem happy to see me. Instead, Rhiannon's face twists with anguish and grief. She holds a short, silver blade in each hand and blood stains her sleeves.

I realized two things: first, I found what killed Danni's doppelgänger, and second, Rhiannon thinks the skin-changers got me, too.

Before I can disabuse her of this idea, she kicks me in the chest, sending me flying into the creek bed, where I land on my back in the shallow water. She's on me in a flash, silver knives at my throat and a look of pure rage twisting her face.

"Rhiannon, wait!" I gasp, lifting my hands in surrender. "It's me! Please—I'm not one of them! Dane and Freya are here, too!"

She shakes her head, and a pair of tears slip down her cheeks. She doesn't believe me, but she hasn't killed me yet, either, so I keep babbling.

"We came through the caverns," I gasp, keeping my eyes locked with hers. "That's what you were trying to tell us, isn't it? That Darragh and the others weren't going to faerie—they came here, instead. The skin-changers had something to do with what happened to you, and further back, with my ancestor, Julius. That's what the rune meant, isn't it? Julius Hart. We figured it out and—"

Lifting one blade from my throat, Rhiannon keeps the other in place while clapping her hand over my mouth to shut me up. I haven't been whispering, and her alarm makes me wonder what other dangers might lurk beneath the trees.

Fortunately for me, those dangers include Freya and Dane.

Rhiannon's head whips around to look over her shoulder as they emerge from the trees, drawn by the sound of my distress, with a breathless and red-faced Erickson in tow.

"Julian? What the—"

Dane halts, frozen by the sight of my imminent peril, but Rhiannon relaxes almost immediately, lifting her hand from my mouth and dropping her knife.

She leans over me, concern creasing her brow, and lays her hands on either side of my face.

"It's okay," I whisper breathlessly, as much for Dane's reassurance as for hers. "You didn't hurt me. I'm okay."

Convinced, she releases me and rocks back on her heels, still straddling my waist.

"You know, I always wanted a grandma," I croak as she climbs off me, "but to be honest, I imagined more cookie baking and less murder."