The Dawnvel Druids - - (little red riding hood ebook TXT) 📗

a euphemism?”

Mo chuckled. “No, he got some shaman from abroad to deliver him this creature. Didn’t anyone tell you about the giant birds that flew here carrying a crate?”

She shook her head. “I hope no one saw. Dreg will get in trouble with the guild again.”

Simone sighed once more. Lana was always the last to get ready, too busy perfecting her hair and makeup. It was needless like usual, it wasn’t like they were going to a fancy party.

She slid her wand out from her sleeve and used it to pick up a nearby pebble and guide it up to tap lightly on Lana’s window.

“Alright!” Lana yelled dramatically.

Simone felt a pang of dread as her phone beeped with a new text message. If it wasn’t one of her clan members, there was only one other person who’d be texting her this late. Her suspicions were confirmed as she read her dad’s message.

Hi, darling. Need more meds again. Can you get some from the orcs by tomorrow? I’m desperate. I’ll make them last the whole month this time.

Thanks honey.

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Damn it Dad. She’d have to sneak out after Bobby’s Joining and use the runestone to travel into London. The orcs would want some of their clan’s potions in exchange for the drugs too, but at least she didn’t need to worry about drug dealers pulling guns on her again.

“Who was that?” Mo grinned. “Has the Bobster given you his number already?”

“No, just my phone company trying to sell me stuff,” she grunted.

“But still,” Mo continued. “Have you given him your number?”

“Pipe down Maurice,” said Warren. “Stop acting like she’s remotely interested in the eejit?”

“Who says I’m not?” Simone said, to annoy Warren more than anything. In truth, she hadn’t thought about men in general since her and Warren’s messy breakup, but she couldn’t deny she enjoyed Bobby’s company. But maybe that was just because he was so… normal compared to the rest of them. She hadn’t known him long enough to decide either way, but he seemed kind and funny, despite being scared out of his mind a lot of the time.

Annoyingly, Kazimir kept popping into her mind ever since she’d first encountered the white tiger. And she couldn’t ignore her and Warren’s most recent kiss either. She didn’t have time for romance, damn it.

“Yeah right.” Warren snorted. “You’re way out of that guy’s league.”

“I don’t believe in leagues,” she shook her head. “We’re all equal.”

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This time Warren laughed loudly. “Keep telling yourself that. For one, we druids are already above the Normals. Magic makes us so.”

Not this again. They’d already argued about this. She didn’t care to go over it again.

“I still say this is a waste of time,” Warren said. “He’ll never be one of us.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” she replied. “No one does. Fate brought Bobby here and if he’s destined to be part of our clan, he will be.”

“Just don’t get your hopes up,” he muttered. “You’re probably gonna see your new friend die tonight.”

Simone clenched her fists, biting down an angry reply. She’d fought with Warren enough for two lifetimes, and it was pointless doing it anymore. She turned her gaze away, so she wouldn’t accidentally admire the way the shadows sculpted his muscles and made his azure eyes pop. She hated the attraction she still felt for him, and the memories she had before his personality had grown so ugly.

At first, she’d had sympathy for Warren, his mother’s health had gone downhill these past few months and of course his father’s actions would’ve affected anyone. But bad things had happened to all of them, and so many others around the world, they couldn’t always be blamed for you acting like a jackass.

“If Bobby does die,” Warren continued, “he’ll probably reveal himself as the Baynir before the ceremony can end. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been

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hanging around Dawnvel for days now, scouting us all out and preparing to go undercover. The rest of you might be fooled, but I-”

“Bobby’s not the…” she trailed off as Warren’s words made her remember something. What if it had been the Baynir who enchanted that drug dealer to kill her?

“What is it?” Mo asked.

She was already keeping Kazimir from them, and still wasn’t sure why; probably because Warren would insist he was a threat and get himself killed trying to slay the weretiger, so Simone decided to come clean about the drug dealer attack.

“Someone tried to kill me the night before Zander died,” she admitted, wincing at her friends’ extreme reactions.

“What the hell!” Warren roared. “Why didn’t you say something before now?”

“Because I knew you’d all freak out.”

“Where did it happen?” Niamh had gone pale as snow.

“You left Dawnvel for your dad again, didn’t you?” Warren growled, yet concern had replaced the usual anger in his eyes.

Simone gave them the details, explaining how she hadn’t realised it might be connected. “I didn’t want to tell you I’d gone out on my own at first, then everything with Zander…it drove it out of my mind completely. I’m sorry.”

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“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Niamh moved toward her and hugged her tight. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

“None of us can go anywhere alone from now on,” said Warren. “In case this Baynir is trying to pick us off one by one.”

At last, Lana sauntered out of the house, dressed to the nines and squirting liberal amounts of anti-bac into her hands after she closed the front door. Once her hands were clean, she slipped on a pair of white velvet gloves. “Happy now?” she smiled sarcastically at Simone.

“Yep, unless you need to take a quick bath before we go?”

Lana grimaced. “OCD can’t be helped darling. I don’t know why you’re in such a rush anyway. The little urchin isn’t even here yet.”

“He will be,” Simone said confidently, although her eyes met Niamh’s, whose expression showed doubt.

Lana was observing each of them in turn, judging their fashion choices like she always did.

“Looking particularly dashing tonight Warren,” she purred. “I love the way your arms look in that shirt. Nice to see you’re almost making an effort with your appearance again Niamh. You were looking a bit drab these past few days.”

Well her freaking boyfriend had just died! Simone held her tongue.

Then Lana spotted the cowboy boots Mo had decided to sport.

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“Why are you wearing those things?” Lana enunciated every word with disgust. “I told you to burn them and cast the ashes into the deepest ocean.”

“It might be muddy in the forest.” Mo shrugged. “Besides, they look good on me.”

“Sure, maybe you should get yourself a horse and a cowboy hat too, you walking disaster.”

“Well, we’re both wearing leather jackets so we make a perfect pair,” Mo grinned, trying to hug her playfully.

“Don’t, you’ll give me creases.”

Simone met Niamh’s gaze again as Lana and Mo started play-fighting.

“Where’s Bobby,” Niamh murmured.

“He’s done a runner, I reckon,” Warren said.

“Oh man, I should’ve kept an eye on him again,” said Mo.

“No need.” Dreg remarked, surprising them with how silently he’d arrived behind them. “I had one of my birds, Gerald, keep tabs on him. He left his room not long ago.”

Simone sighed in relief. It didn’t diminish the dread tightening her chest, but at least Bobby hadn’t made things harder. She felt responsible for him, in a way.

It had been her slaying a gargoyle that led Bobby to them after all.

Although she had no control over the fact Bobby was a potential druid, if he died before he could ascend, Simone didn’t know how she’d handle the guilt.

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Another of their pet ravens was perched on Dreg’s shoulder, a scroll attached to his leg. Dreg had named this one Richard. Dreg held his pipe in his other hand, which he’d carved out of bone, and the green smoke that drifted from the end was from some sort of tobacco he’d created. Slung over his shoulder was a leather bag full of potions they’d need for tonight.

Dreg whistled once and Richard left his shoulder, beating his wings rapidly as he flew toward the forest.

“Who are you messaging?” asked Niamh.

“Grandpa Merle,” said Dreg, pulling out a pair of hole-ridden mittens from his trench coat.

“Could you look more homeless?” Lana shook her head.

“Probably,” Dreg replied, not understanding Lana’s sarcasm. He never understood any of their sarcasm, or a whole lot of their social interactions. She often thought Dreg was more in tune with animals than humans.

Simone looked out across the campus’s empty fields, only a few pools of light from streetlamps pierced the sea of gloom. The light from the castle windows were barely discernible from this far away.

She saw him then, his pasty skin looking paler than usual as he walked slowly toward them. From here, he looked years younger, like a little lost boy.

She felt sorry for Bobby. He seemed like a nice, relatively normal guy. He didn’t deserve a life devoted to battling dark creatures and dealing with druid politics. But he deserved an early death even less. This was the only way, and at

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least the magic was great, exhausting sometimes, but wonderful. Simone didn’t know what she’d do without her magic, what any of them would do. It was as much a part of them as their eyes or hands.

“Glad you could make it.” Niamh greeted Bobby warmly.

“Yeah, it would be a shame if I got all dressed up for nothing,” said Lana.

“Uh, why did you? Was I supposed to wear a suit or something?” Bobby frowned.

Simone chuckled. “No, you’re fine. Lana would get dressed up for a dog walk.”

“At least I always look fantastic, unlike some.”

“Come on then,” she beckoned Bobby forward. “Now you’re here we can go.”

“Sorry,” said Bobby as he fell into step beside her. “Were you guys waiting long?”

“Ages,” Lana groaned.

“Ignore her.” Simone smiled at him, happy to see him smile back at her, even if it didn’t erase the overwhelming anxiety in his eyes. She prayed tonight went well. Or she’d feel like she’d led a lamb to slaughter.

The seven of them strode toward Dawnvel’s forest, clearing the few metres that separated St.Elrans with the line of trees. Their house had homed clans of druids for generations and had been built specifically to be partially hidden by the surrounding forest, so no curious pupils could peer inside its windows, or

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see the occasional magical creature that might go in and out. Despite that fact, Simone had given her fair share of memory spells on students who witnessed something they shouldn’t.

A bird shrieked and the wind moaned around the great oak trees, causing them to creak as if in agony. They were plunged in near darkness as the forest enveloped them, but Mo and Warren wordlessly lit their wands and held them aloft.

“So, I take it this isn’t a…normal forest?” Bobby asked, his eyes darting from tree to tree, looking for strange shadows beyond the magically lit