A Coat Red as Holly Page 6

  When it was done, the Holly King melted in a shower of flurries, leaving the large silver wolf alone in the doorway. It bared its teeth once before stalking away too.

  I stared at the patio. Heavy snow fell in graceful silence, blanketing everything in white. I didn't feel the cold, not with my new, thick, red fur coat. Instead, the pull of a pack called from just beyond the trees. I ignored them.

  It would be hours before Mom came to find out why I didn't call. That’s if she didn’t assume Grandma forgot to pay the phone bill and left it alone for another couple of days. I curved my body around my sweet, baby girl. She nuzzled against my fur, cooing softly. I buried my wet nose beneath her body, breathing deeply to imprint the memory of her scent into my bones.

  Something brushed against my side. I spun, snarling, only to freeze at the sight of a creature no more than six inches tall. Her skin was lumpy and brown like a sweet potato, and her arms were long, spindly roots that she used as hands. She held up a bottle nearly as big as she was. My canine senses told me it held milk before my eyes did.

  I bared my teeth.

  It won’t hurt her?

  The little faery shook her head.

  “It’s milk of your world given in good faith to have no lasting effects.” Her voice was so high-pitched I doubted I would have heard her if I was still human. My pointed wolf ears flattened against my head.

  Slowly, I lowered my belly back down to the ground. She bobbed her head in what must have been a curtsy and held the bottle to Eirawen’s mouth. Though I watched it closely, the cup never ran out. I could hear her gulping, and she fed until she slept. It turns out some magic really could be as simple and straightforward as it seemed.

  Mom showed up about an hour later. The garage door flew open to bounce off the wall.

  “Mama? Gwen!”

  Even if her senses were strong enough to warn her, I doubt anything would have prepared her for the scene she met.

  A pool of blood coated the floor in the kitchen where Grandma and Lyall fought. I never went to inspect it, but my nose confirmed that’s where it was. He’d dragged her body to the bedroom where he’d tried to clean himself up. Blood smeared across the carpet and the door handles down the hall. He must’ve tried every door until he found hers.

  At least Grandma was still in one piece, which definitely couldn’t be said about Lyall.

  And in the middle of all that carnage lay Eirawen, swaddled up tightly in my bright red coat. The little faery vanished after my daughter finished feeding, but her cinnamon scent lingered, which told me she hid somewhere close by.

  I gave a thin, high-pitched whine that froze Mom where she stood. Slowly, so I wouldn't run her off, I got to my feet and touched my nose to my daughter. My eyes locked on Mom’s, a subtle challenge. But she wasn’t my mother for nothing. Though I could smell her terror, she didn’t drop her gaze or even try to look away.

  I backed up a few paces and lowered my head to the ground.

  For probably the first time in my life, Mom and I understood each other perfectly.

  Shaking, she knelt to gather Eirawen into her arms.

  The garage door flew open again. In a whirl of motion I leapt to my feet. Teeth bared, feet spread, I spun to face the intruder.

  “Ms. Winnie, is she here?” It was Heather. I cocked my head to one side.

  The growl in my chest stopped vibrating, but my hackles stayed up. What was she doing there?

  Heather froze in the doorway. She covered her mouth, staring wide-eyed. She took in the gruesome scene and then turned to stare me straight in the eye. Somehow, inexplicably, she knew it was me.

  I snorted my frustration. Had she known all along? Why the hell hadn’t she said?

  She gulped and slowly reached out to draw Mom behind her. I didn't ease out of my aggressive stance.

  “Ms. Winnie, if you’ll reach into the pocket of Gwen’s coat you’ll find a charm I gave her earlier today. Keep it next to the baby.”

  Mom didn’t respond, so Heather reached around her to dig into the coat's pockets and fished out the strange bundle of twigs tied together with twine. As soon as she brought it near the baby something strange happened to my sight. It was weird enough that I lost the human range of colors when I became a wolf, but as soon as that charm went near my baby she simply vanished into thin air.

  I snarled and lunged toward them, but Heather swung her arm in an arc and white powder showered through the air between us. I slammed against an invisible barrier. Salt, my nose told me. My growl promised revenge.

  “Come on, Winnie, Dear. We’ve got to get her out of here. The fae will be watching her. I’ll teach you how to keep her safe.”

  From the position of Mom's arms, I could see she still held the baby, but for some reason the silly bundle of mismatched twigs made her invisible to me.

  "I don't even know what she wanted to name her," Mom murmured, still in shock. I don’t think she even heard Heather. The word ‘fae’ didn’t get so much as a blink out of her.

  Heather tossed a sympathetic look my way.

  "Eirawen," she said softly. My human ears would never have heard her, but my wolf ears picked it up just fine. "It means 'fair as snow'."

  With a single thump of my bushy tail, I slunk out through the ruined sliding door. I picked my way through the maze of broken glass, but after a few steps I noticed my feet slid across the ground like smoke without substance or sound. In spite of their size, my large paws left no prints in the fresh snow.

  Mom and Heather retreated to the kitchen. Heather called the police on a large cellphone she dug out of her purse while Mom sat on a bar stools cradling her granddaughter as if she would shatter if she ever let go. I took that picture of her with me as I bolted for the trees.

  As soon as I started to run, my feet lifted off of the ground. A glacial wind kicked up behind me, scooting mom’s stool across the floor with a squeak.

  A mournful howl rose above the trees. The Wild Hunt. I ran to them, pausing to throw back my head in a piercing howl of my own. The answer came in wild yips and barks. And he was there. Against the backdrop of trees, he assumed his true faery form. Enormous antlers arced high above his head, neither animal nor man, but terrible and beautiful in his own way.

  “Come. You will be with her when she needs you, but for now we must be away.” In a swirl of his emerald cloak we were gone, leaving nothing but dancing shadows in our wake.

  Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?

  Thanks!

  Alicia Gaile

  About the Author

  Alicia Gaile is the author of YA contemporary fantasy and fairy tale retellings. She wrote her first fairy story at the age of twelve after visiting the Goll Woods Old-Growth forest in Ohio with her aunt. She came across a meadow with a fallen down tree where she could practically see fairies and leprechauns dancing with unicorns in the dappled sunlight. After receiving a Creative Writing degree from Georgia College and State University she began writing early versions of Trial by Song while living abroad in southeast Asia. She currently resides in El Paso, Texas with her family and two dogs

  Discover Other Titles by Alicia Gaile

  Trial by Song

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