A sense of calm washed over me feeling the weapon, the magic pumping off it, knowing it would do the job I needed it to do. I normally liked to hunt with my axe or bow, but none of those could be hidden under a dress which hugged my every curve.
Blood red, the dress plunged into a deep V in front, the hem reaching the floor; the high slit up my right leg letting me move freely. The back of the gown was a cape, pouring down the back, cascading like water as I sauntered toward the opening of the castle. It fit like it was made for me. Normally I kept my hair tied back, but tonight I let my long black hair flow down in glossy waves. My lips were blood red, and so were my heels.
I had been aware how the opposite sex responded to me since I hit puberty. They usually were not very sly about it. With my father’s Romanian heritage, I had his dark hair, olive skin, height, and exotic features. But I had my mother’s lean frame, high cheekbones, and gray eyes. Men were easy to understand. Being “pretty” meant very little to me. I’d rather read or kickbox than think about nail polish. It was simply a tool. Like how Sups, Supernaturals, used theirs to reel in their victims, I used mine. And tonight I had on my full hunting gear.
In the last year, I had grown both emotionally and physically. The girl who had hid in the closet, silently screaming, was gone. The girl who crawled across the floor, seeing her parents in shreds, crying, nails and body caked in their blood, smoke burning her lungs, had died in the cinders, along with her childhood home that night.
Since the moment he disappeared into the darkness almost a year ago, my life had been dedicated to training. Relentlessly. Unyielding. His death was all I dreamed about and the reason I trained until my body and mind gave out. His golden eyes and daggered teeth dripping scarlet were my impetus to keep going. Revenge was my air. My food. My dreams. And my salvation.
My mentor did not think a year was enough time for me to equal a supernatural creature of his age and stature. But I could not wait any longer for such a perfect opportunity—a time when he would be unguarded and relaxed. My reputation was already spreading across the country. Red Huntress. It wouldn’t be long until he figured out the Vanator family line did not end and was now hunting him.
If I missed this chance, there would not be another occasion, and he would come after me, set on purging the earth of one of the greatest threats to his kind.
My steel-colored eyes looked on the waves of magic humming around the entrance of the crumbling estate, which seemed almost abandoned. So, this is where the infamous Monster Ball is being held this year?
Taking a breath, I knew once I stepped inside the archway, there was no going back. I strode through an archway, the magic feeling like thick fog tickling my skin. My fingers stayed on my blade, feeling the magic pulse against the charm wanting to guard the party from people like me. Those who planned to kill. The air wobbled around me until I stepped through the glamour, feeling as though I entered another world, the dagger still attached to my leg.
I stopped, my mouth dropping at the transformed castle and grounds before me, feeling about as tiny as a mouse. An imposing house now welcomed me. The old dingy building was gone; in its stead was an exquisite pristine castle, like we stepped back in time to its prime.
Guests bustled around me, eager to get inside. A dense mist rolled over the grass on either side of the clear stone pathway, directing us up a trail to the entrance. My heels clicked along the path, my gaze catching on purple twinkling lights floating around the fog, like hundreds of supernatural fireflies were joining in on the festivities.
People in groups or pairs dodged around me, laughing and giddy with excitement. I watched a woman thread her arm through a man’s. Leaning into him, she whispered in his ear, both grinning with a shared secret. Loneliness echoed in my gut, thumping in my empty soul. Most of the time I could ignore the solitude, conditioning myself until I passed out. I was used to being by myself. I had no family left and was mostly in the company of an old grouchy elder witch our coven called “Grandma.” She was my mentor and took me under her wing. She may have been old, but that woman could kick my ass and knew more about magic than anyone, probably because she had been alive since the dawn of time.
Now, seeing the couples around me, friends and lovers, I desired to have someone by my side. To laugh, smile, love—all the things I felt were ripped from me and would never have again. I desired to be nothing more than a guest, eager to dance and join in on the festivities, drink, and have fun. Fun. A word I no longer related to.
Get it together, Riley. You are here to avenge your family, not to party.
Following the parade of beautiful gowns and tuxes, I tried not to look any Sup in the eyes. You never knew what creature would find it a challenge. I stepped up onto an expansive veranda where two twin gargoyles flanked the archway of the entrance, a blue light shimmering through the opening.
“Ticket, miss?” A handsome man stood where the stone gargoyle used to be, looking at me, his hand open. I may have barely gained my supernatural abilities, but I grew up knowing all about the Supernaturals and how they could transform. Appearing human by day, monster at night. By the age of seven, I could recite most by their original names, attributes, appearances, and what was their main energy source, which most of the time was humans.
I was one of those who protected the innocent from these creatures. But tonight, I had to blend in and be one of them. It still seemed odd my kind was included on the guest list since I hunted monsters. It only added to the mystery of the host. What were their intentions? Did the party end with a huge hunt in the back gardens or something? All the warring species pinned against each other?
Now that might be interesting.
I handed my ticket to the young gargoyle, moving past him with my head high, telling myself over and over I belonged here, I had been invited, and no one knew I came here to kill.
The blue light directed the guests down the tunnel, but the farther I walked, the darker it became, until shadows wrapped around me, stealing away my sight, my other senses heightening. Like most creatures around me, I found comfort in darkness. It was where I came alive, could feel my abilities flare through my veins. Smell, taste, hearing, and touch became excruciatingly palpable, letting me know in my mind where everyone was as if I could see them with my eyes.
The thumping of music struck my eardrums, and with each step, it thrummed more vibrant against my sternum, tapping at my nerves like a piano. The music was sultry, a sense of danger behind each lyric like it was meant for me. Following it like a beacon, light slicing through the darkness, I was suddenly in the entrance of a grand room. A ballroom. Dimly lit chandeliers dangled throughout the enormous rectangular room, setting the space in shadowy ambience as tiny pixies glided in the air, sparking the ceiling in colors. A layer of fog coated the floor, giving the illusion the couples on the dance floor were floating. It was magic, and I couldn’t help being completely in awe.
I did not spend time on frivolous things such as dancing, drinking, or parties. My life has been studying and training. This last year I barely slept or ate, my mind consumed with hate. So wearing a sexy ball gown as music swirled around me along with the dancers in the middle of the room had me fighting the need to grab a glass of champagne and forget everything I came here for.
Keep on target, Riley. You are here to kill a werewolf and avenge your family.
My gaze scanned the space, taking in every detail of the room. Hundreds and hundreds of Supernaturals mingled throughout the room; men’s and women’s outfits ranged from spectacular costumes to almost nothing. The people sparkled and moved around the ballroom like everything was bewitched. Every corner of the chamber was draped in floor-to-ceiling black silk, disappearing into the shadows. These were there to hide indiscretions just like the round beds floating near the ground and the ceiling, couples already sneaking off to enjoy the magic-spelled bubbles around them. If I used them, only one of us would be left gratified.