Red Rider RIsing: Book 2 of the Red Rider Saga by D.A. Randall (best books to read for beginners .TXT) 📗

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And stared at the handsome features and piercing eyes of Duke Leopold Laurent.

Duke Laurent, Papa’s influential friend.

The man who bent down to smile at me after Jacque Denue’s friends attacked me, to ask if I was all right.

The man who held a banquet to honor Francois, for his bravery in killing the wolf that killed Grand’Mere Marie. A banquet from which Francois went home drunk, escorted by the Duke’s men, to be devoured by a pack of wolves that same night. As if by coincidence. Or by design.

Duke Laurent, who made an appearance at every funeral of every person killed by the wolves.

Who railed against the King for ignoring his letters, in which he begged the court to send soldiers to rescue us. Letters he never truly sent.

Laurent.

I clenched my jaw and tensed my shoulders to keep from shaking the surrounding straw.

Laurent spread his arms to the crowd. “My brothers. I know you have concerns about the men we lost last night, and the red-cloaked rider who killed them. I assure you, we will find him, whoever he is, and make him suffer. As to how he did it, I have sent word to the Prime, and I will let you know his conclusions once I receive them.

You have my word.”

I bit my lip, seething. His word.

“Meanwhile, I am pleased to announce that Her Majesty has accepted my invitation.” This brought a cheerful murmur of approval and a few joyful shouts. Laurent waved down their 254

excitement with his hands. “So do not be distracted by last night’s incident. It is of little consequence, and in another month, will amount to nothing. So let us celebrate these fresh kills from our two newest initiates, and the strength they will soon share with us. Not to mention sharing in our glorious destiny. Soon all of our patience will be rewarded. Let us drink to that.”

A few men laughed. Duke Laurent held up

his flask with two hands, as if it was a precious infant. The other men followed suit. Laurent tipped his head back and they all drank. He winced as if it tasted bitter, but then licked his lips to savor it, like a drunkard sucking down stale alcohol solely for its effect.

He stepped forward to stand directly beneath the skylight. The moon shone on his face as he closed his eyes with a look of rapture. He shed the black robe from his shoulders, revealing that he was completely naked. I nearly gasped, but kept quiet in spite of my shock.

Then Duke Laurent’s face began to change.

His strange grin pulled back at the corners of his mouth and somehow kept pulling, widening his lips. At the same time, his ears seemed to stretch away from his jaws, and moved impossibly up toward the top of his head. His nose grew larger, lengthening like that of a dog and extending over his chest. Gray hair sprouted from his cheeks, forehead and chest as he hunched forward. He fell to his hands and knees and I saw a bushy tail grow and lift from behind his back. His arms and legs narrowed while his hands and feet thickened and 255

grew into animal paws. He crouched on the floor of the barn and opened his fiery eyes, grinning again to display canine fangs.

Laurent had become one of the six-foot wolves I fought at Favreau’s farm. The Lycanthru weren’t simply worshiping wolves.

They were the wolves!

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28.

Seeing Duke Laurent transform into a wolf from my secret overhead perch, I inhaled with a sudden squeak, unable to stop myself. The four robed men standing at different corners of the hayloft turned sharp eyes on me. The nearest one clawed through the hay and seized my wrist.

Before I could think, he yanked me from my hiding place for all to see. Straw and dust fell from my cloak like a rainshower.

“It’s him!” he shouted. “It’s the red rider!”

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He tugged me toward himself again as Laurent – in his