Would it mean his life? Either of theirs?
“I do, I’m just scared.”
“Don’t be, I’ve got us covered! Who knows how long we can follow the trail for though...? I’m asking you, please? I can’t do this without you.”
Shaking, a war raged in her mind. Her mouth opened to say something, but couldn’t find words, only a defeated breath escaped. What could she do?
Her head hung, eyes darting in thought. Avie nodded her head in an almost imperceptible movement of affirmation, but that was all it took for Owen to jump for joy, throwing the pink coat over her body.
Outside, the wind blew a flood of snowflakes, disrupting the ones already fallen onto the ground. The woman shivered at the negative temperature; her hand was held in Owen’s as he pricked the tip of her finger once again. They watched the blood rise and take off, showing them the way to follow. She felt sick, a combination of trepidation and the vibrating emanating from her blood. Yet, they had to move, they had to move fast to keep up with it.
For past treks under the circumstances, Avie could hardly muster the strength to walk normally. Here Owen was, yanking her by the hand to keep a fast pace through the town and towards the trees. Her legs gave out a few times, without rest, the blond raised her back up, hauling her onto her feet via their connected hand.
The pair kept going, reaching the woods.
Avie had been trying to think of a way she could change his mind. Make them turn around and return home, yet she also wanted with every fiber of her being to continue and find out where the blood led. It terrified her of what would happen should they run into Rhulle. Would he think she betrayed him?
“Owen, please! I can’t go any further, we should head back and try again next time!”
He was silent for a moment, still moving forward, “Do you know where we are going? We’re coming up to that abandoned manor! I knew there was something about that place!”
“No! Anybody could be inside of there, we can’t! Let’s turn back!” desperation rang through her voice.
The librarian was now practically dragging her along, his hand held to hers tight, causing the blood to constantly drip to see where it led, and keep her beside him. She was weak from the stress it put on her body, unable to break away or get him to stop. Even planting her feet in place was fruitless, she would just stumble and fall, being yanked up by him again.
“We can do this, Avie... Just a little further!’
The manor came into their sightlines, her eyes wide as she panicked.
“I can’t. I can’t, Owen, take me back right now!” He didn’t respond, continuing to lead the way to the manor, “Hey! Owen, let me go. Owen!”
The blood stopped mid-flight, and it fell to the ground in front of them as her mind cleared, relief flushed over her body, senses returning to normal. She was so thankful.
But that was short lived.
In the breath of that same moment, Rhulle dropped from the trees, his dark figure standing intimidating—blood littering his upper body, as he landed a few feet in front of them.
“Oh shit—!” The blond reached for his gun, tucked into the back of his pants. Avie had strength now, seeing the movement, she rushed, shoving his arm away, stepping in between the both of them.
“NO!”
The gun flew out of his hands in an arch, gleaming in the pale moonlight before buried—lost in the field of snow. Owen turned to watch it fall, Avie using the moment to hurriedly approach Rhulle.
“Please-please-please, please don’t hurt him,” she begged, face virtually pressed into his chest, hands also buried there, gripping the scarlet plumage in an attempt to hold him put.
There he stood under her touch, immobile, shaking his mighty wings and glaring down the man in green. Rhulle wouldn’t look at her, keeping hard rust eyes on the man that drew a weapon on him.
The two males observed each other, the woman caught in the middle watching each breath and twitch. Refusing to break eye contact with it, the librarian quietly called out, “Avie, come back here, get away from that thing.”
“Owen, please, don’t. It’s bad enough you were going to shoot at him.” She took a step towards him, one hand staying on the feathered chest, the other outstretched in his direction, stained red.
“Excuse me? That thing is a monster! What the hell else would I do?”
Rhulle was growling in an undertone. But he still had not attacked…
“He is not a monster! Stop it, the both of you and just listen for a moment, alright? I can explain everything,” her head swiveled back and forth to speak to both of them, frantic to get them to listen before acting.
“Avie,” the blond called in a low voice, “what the hell is going on here?”
She looked once again at them from where she stood between. Both parties had their eyes on her instead of on the other. Avie let out a shaky sigh.
“You were right, Owen. There really is something in the manor.”
CHAPTER 12
Inside the dwelling may have been out of the wind, but it was just as ice cold in the space. Rhulle and Owen gave Avie the benefit of the doubt and agreed to listen to her, heading inside to talk things through as civilized beings.
It was unnerving to still see the truxen drenched with blood. Before they walked through the threshold, he took scoops of the snow, using that to preen the grime from his feathers. In a matter of seconds, he was done, washed away any evidence of a meal on himself.
Avie did the
