Red Blood (Series of Blood Book 2), Emma Hamm [little red riding hood ebook free .TXT] 📗

Lyra blinked in confusion. Her eyes narrowed at the suggestion the woman was making. “You know nothing of my Magician.”

“We know much of Wolfgang; in the same way we know much of you. I can practically see the chains around your wrists.”

Anger exploded behind Lyra’s eyes. “I will have none of that! You will listen to us, and you will answer our questions. No more words out of your poisonous mouth, old woman!”

Mother began to laugh. The creaking of her chair ceased as she finally turned towards them. “Come now, children. Sit by our fire and spend a time speaking with us. Perhaps we may find we can help each other.”

Lyra’s head was spinning as she tried to keep track of all of them. Maiden, Mother, and Crone were known for trying to confuse the people seeking their help. The more confused, the better, because time never passed normally within this house. No one knew how they did it or even what they were.

Supposedly, they were a legend. They were a human creation. They did not exist in the dimension that had merged with this one. Yet, when the magical creatures combined with humanity, the Trinity had revealed they were not myth at all.

She knew very well that talking with them could be going down a rabbit hole. Lyra hadn’t even been the one to suggest it. She preferred known evils that she could handle. The Trinity were unknown to all creatures, even E, because they weren’t part of the magical realm its knowledge came from.

The carpet was plush and comfortable enough to sit upon it. Lyra chose the spot next to the cat rather than in the offered seats. It was a small act of rebellion that she hoped would remind these women that she wasn’t going to be ordered around.

E sat where it was told and kept a serene smile on Wren’s face. Lyra wished it were Wren here instead of her creature. Although they were merged and should have been sharing a mind, Lyra saw too much of E in this facade to be able to predict its moves.

Mother shifted to set her knitting down on the table next to her. “So, you have come for answers, was it?”

Lyra leaned forward before E could speak. “We need to talk about the prophecy.”

“Which one?” Maiden asked with a sarcastic tone.

“You know which one I’m talking about. The one that determines the fate of this world. The one where four people will be able to defeat the Void who is trying to destroy everything. I don’t know about you ladies, but I don’t like the idea of death this early in my life.”

Maiden’s gaze sharpened. Her silent steps carried her to the Crone who she helped to her seat near the fireplace. Aged hands curled in her lap before the woman met Lyra’s gaze.

“We will wait for our other visitors before we answer that question.”

“What other visitors?” Lyra had barely asked the question before she heard the stomp of boots outside.

Burke and Jasper blasted through the door. There were leaves tangled in their hair, and their eyes held a wild look. Lyra’s eyes squinted as she tried to catch details before she cocked her head to the side.

“Are those petals on your shoulders?”

Red petals, to be exact. They dusted across the men’s shoulders and drifted to the floor as they shook themselves. A bright red welt decorated the arch of Jasper’s cheekbone.

“Yes,” Burke growled. “A rose garden made it difficult for us to reach the house.”

“I don’t want to know,” Lyra snorted. “You can tell Wren that one in detail tonight when she kisses your boo-boos better. While you two were out picking flowers, E and I already found this place. Now you’re interrupting.”

“Are we?”

She ignored the growled response. The men’s pride would have to be addressed later. For now, there were bigger fish to fry.

“Ladies? The prophecy,” she gritted through her teeth.

Mother sighed and gestured towards two chairs at the kitchen table. “Sit down, gentlemen. If I had known we would be treated with such disrespect, I would not have created such a comfortable space for us to meet.”

“My apologies, ma’am. Lyra is known for her…” Burke paused, “quick tongue.”

“Among many things, I’m certain.”

At least the middle aged woman was smiling. Lyra was certain these three women could have snuffed her life out if they wanted to. Obviously she hadn’t angered them that much.

Maiden wandered behind the men and trailed her fingers along their shoulders. “Curious. These two are attached to the prophecy, Mother.”

“Everyone in this room is, Maiden. Or did you not even look at the women?”

A roll of the eyes was Maiden’s response. Lyra wondered how frustrating it must be to spend an existence with a teenager and a very old woman. Mother seemed to have the short stick in this situation.

“What are your questions about the prophecy?” Shaking and weak, Crone’s voice did not match the direct gaze, which speared towards Lyra.

“We are concerned that it is fluid,” she began. “Prophecies are not easily controlled. We do not wish to go down this path if there is another way. We wish to know how concrete the prophecy the Five told us is.”

“Ah, now that is not an easy question to answer. Prophecies are always fluid.”

“Then more information. What else can you tell us?”

“We’re not supposed to help.”

“Then what good are you?” Lyra’s voice raised in anger. “If you can tell us nothing then go back to your secret home and rot alone.”

“Lyra!” Burke scolded.

Mother raised her hand for silence. “Please, arguing will get us nowhere. It is refreshing to find someone who is not frightened of us. If we can answer your question, we will.”

Lyra noticed there was something in Crone’s hand. It appeared to be nothing more interesting than a common dandelion, but she knew better. There was significance to this item if the Crone was holding it.

The flower was passed to Mother, who slowly exhaled upon it. The stem