Darling Wildfire (Red Rabbit #2)

87

THERON

PARIS, FRANCE

The next day, Knight picked me, Nyx and Atlas up at the airport.

“Hey man,”

Nyx said, greeting Knight warmly. “It’s been a minute!”

“Tell Cal to fuck off and come work with us,”

Atlas grinned.

Knight laughed. “You know I work best as a free agent. But I’m here now—I’m sure you have some trouble for me to get into.”

“Always,”

I chuckled and embraced him hard. “Good to see you, brother. Now, what’s all this about Deathwing?”

“Load up—all I got is an address.”

Knight drove us out to an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. It was dark, foreboding and just the look of the place was heavy and ominous. We all stepped out of the SUV and a dark haired man in tactical gear and an AR slung across his shoulder walked out to meet us. He greeted Knight with a friendly albeit serious demeanor then his sharp green eyes swept over us quickly. He held out a tattooed hand to me.

“Gabriel Griffin,”

he said. “You must be North.”

“I am—this is Nyx—and Atlas.”

Gabriel shook their hands. “So, why am I here, Gabriel?”

He nodded towards the house. “There’s something you need to see.”

The house was obviously some sort of boarding house but it was run down and filthy. I stopped in the entrance of the living room, equal parts dread and disgust made my skin crawl.

“What is this place?”

“It was a boarding house for children,”

Gabriel said.

“Children?”

Nyx echoed incredulously.

A chain ran from the wall to a mattress in the corner where it was obvious a sheet covered a body far too small to be an adult. Atlas cursed softly behind me.

“This way.”

Gabriel led the way upstairs, a sad look cutting through his stoic features. The deeper into the house we got, the worse it seemed to be. Every room held new horrors. Gabriel finally stepped into one of them and walked over to the far corner. We walked past rows of crudely constructed wooden beds with threadbare mattresses and thin sheets. Each bed had a chain attached to a collar and my stomach turned. A few small toys and books were strewn across the floor and the windows were broken, letting the harsh winter air tear through the bars covering them.

“Over here,”

Gabriel said.

He dragged one of the beds away from the wall and pointed at something carved into the wood near the floorboard. It was a name. I bent to look closer at it and my heart stopped in my chest.

“No,” I said.

I fell to my knees, my legs no longer able to hold me up. I reached out my hand and ran my fingers over the letters. “No, it’s not possible.”

My voice sounded far away.

“She’s…dead—”

I couldn’t finish speaking, I’d run out of air.

I couldn’t breathe.

My vision narrowed and I couldn’t bring myself to pull my hand away from the letters carefully and deliberately carved into the wood. They were traced back over with red making it stand out.

Emersyn North

Papers sat near the carving and I grabbed the closest one with a shaking hand. There was an EN in the corner as though she’d signed the artwork.

My vision blurred.

I stood up and stormed out of the room. I needed to get out of this house.

I threw open the back door and lurched into the yard, immediately throwing up in the overgrown bushes. I took great heaving breaths to pull myself together and sat down heavily on the back steps. I stared at the drawing I clutched in my hands.

It was of Little Red Riding Hood.

She was alive.

My daughter was alive.