Page 20 of The Crimson Wolf
“My ancestors. I come from a long line of Werewolf Hunters.”
“Werewolf Hunters? So that’s your real job. You hunt werewolves?” I don’t know why this seems even more unbelievable than werewolves existing. Who’s funding this shit?
“Yes. Look.” He flips through the book until he’s almost toward the end. He points to a faded picture of a tall and muscular man, his hand on the shoulder of a small red-headed boy. The pair wear matching capes with axes at their sides. “That’s me and my dad. That was the day of my first kill. He was so proud of me.”
I gaze up at him to catch the longing look in his eyes.
I’m still not sure if this album proves anything. They could just be weird cult members killing wolves and telling themselves they’re defeating evil magic. But one thing’s for certain, Jack isn’t fucking with me. He truly believes what he’s telling me.
I glance back at the photo album, flipping to the last page. Out of everything I witnessed tonight, I didn’t think there would be anything to shock me anymore, but the moment I see the picture, my heart stops. I run my finger over the faded picture of the blonde woman wearing a cape and leaning against an axe.
“It’s my mom.”
14
The Storm
“That’s my mom.” I don’t take my eyes off the picture, and a ringing blares throughout my head. I don’t have many pictures of my mom, and she hasn’t been alive for so long. Sometimes, she visits me in my dreams, but even that version of her blurs compared to the actual image in my lap. She’s young here, maybe nineteen or twenty.
“Your family comes from a long line of Werewolf Hunters, too.”
A horrible thought pops into my head. I shoot my gaze to his face and study his features. “Are we related?” My stomach turns sour at the thought. Although we neverwent very far, it was definitely too close for relatives. We both have the same crimson hair, even if his is more rich than mine, but plenty of people have red hair, right?
“No!” Jack says urgently.
My stomach settles.
“Our families come from very different lines. Your mother’s grandparents moved here from Ireland since we have such a large population of werewolves.”
The tug of war on my emotions tires me more than I thought possible. I’m unsure if I believe any of this, even if I saw that beast with my own eyes and my mother stares back at me in the “Werewolf Hunter” uniform.
An alarm goes off in my conscious, pieces of the puzzle falling together. I shoot to my feet, the photo album still clasped in my hand. “Jack, does this have to do with my parents’ murders?”
He suddenly looks tired and walks toward me. He directs me back into one of the chairs and pulls the other close to mine before sitting. Our knees touch as he takes my hands.
He’s quiet for a moment as if gathering the words. “Not all of your blood is of Werewolf Hunters.”
“What does that mean?”
“Your father, he was half werewolf.”
I almost want to punch him. I know he truly believes what he’s telling me, but for him to say that my dead fatheris some mystical make-believe character makes me sick. “Jack,” I say, pulling back. All of this is too much.
He holds my hands tighter. “Red, I know this is hard to hear and even harder to believe, but listen. Your mother fell in love with him even though the hunters urged her not to. The two went above all suggestions. Even Granny was against it, but then you came, and she softened.”
“Granny? She knows about this?” If I could have one other person confirm or deny things, maybe this would start to make sense.
He holds my gaze, but I can’t help but notice a slight dart in his eyes. “She used to. She was attacked, trying to avenge your parents. She doesn’t remember most things. Sometimes, I see her memory of her heritage return in flashes, but it’s rare and short-lived.”
I think about the look in Granny’s eyes this morning. Is this why she always short-circuits whenever I bring up my parents?
“Who killed my parents then?”
“The werewolves. They were even more unhappy about your father being with a Hunter. They feared that if your parents were to have a son, it could be powerful and that it could be swayed to use its powers to kill werewolves.”
I knew the murder of my parents seemed suspicious, even from a young age. But this… This isjust all too much.
“How do you know that? How do you know what the werewolves wanted or didn’t want.”
