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    Fantasy Anthology: Book Eight
    Fantasy Anthology: Book Eight
    Fantasy Anthology: Book Eight
    Ebook116 pages1 hour

    Fantasy Anthology: Book Eight

    By Sophia Rice

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    About this ebook

    Our Summer 2016's quarterly fantasy anthology.

    Dedra Limberg
    Richelle Stalder
    Yuki Woodley
    Edris Huneke
    Zofia Duffer
    Stewart Redel
    Jeffry Agustin
    Napoleon Bechard
    Magdalen Unger
    Maira Marlow

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSophia Rice
    Release dateDec 16, 2018
    ISBN9780463038802
    Fantasy Anthology: Book Eight

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      Book preview

      Fantasy Anthology - Sophia Rice

      1

      Patience

      A lright, alright, I’ll tell you, said Gary. One of his hands was inside Grace’s shirt, pushing her back against the wall, the other high inside her thigh. His words slurred into a moan. Sooo silky. How did Wolf score someone like you ?

      Where, Gary? she repeated, trying to keep her voice level. It had taken so long to get Gary to this point.  Finally tonight, with Wolf still out culling wild deer on a farm nearby, Gary had turned up just drunk enough.

      His breath was hot in her ear. Inside Old Tusker.

      Pure joy caught in Grace’s throat. To know after all this time! Gary couldn’t be lying – he had no imagination and the hiding place was ingenious. God, inside Tusker.  The idea of her beautiful cloak shoved inside the stuffed boar ... She drew a shaky breath.

      Good, Gary. I’m so impressed. But Grace thought, ‘Patience. It’s been there for six years - another hour won’t matter’.

      Gary continued rummaging around her body. Over his excited panting, Grace heard dogs bark. Wolf was early! She tried to relax her body while she watched intently over Gary’s shoulder. He was oblivious. She had better think fast - it was going to get nasty in here very soon.

      Gary was still fumbling at his belt when Wolf appeared silently at the living room doorway. He was a bulky shadow against the hall light, his thick hair roughly pulled back in a ponytail and rifle in his arms. For two long seconds he didn’t move before carefully propping his gun against the wall. Then he drew his hunting knife. As he stepped forward into the lamp light Wolf looked straight at Grace with his lips peeled back over his teeth and those eyes - icy blue and ravenous. It was his hunting face and it had always petrified her.

      She had first seen it after falling out of the sky, her wing ripped through by his shotgun pellets. Knocked half senseless in shallow water, Wolf had loomed over her, kicking back his dogs, and staring hungrily at her with that face. Pain from the shotgun was nothing compared to Wolf ripping off her cloak of feathers. It was like she had flown into concrete.

      Just winged, he had said, laughing as she cowered, puking in her raw, human skin. I knew the best trophies were being hidden in the park. Those cartridges were worth every penny.

      At night his fingers would pinch at the three scars on the milky skin of her arm. Those show you’re mine. A special hunting trophy.  

      Now she just had to survive long enough to get her cloak back.

      Wolf’s here, she whispered.

      Gary jerked upright and around, his pants partially sliding down so that he met Wolf with only one hand extended.

      Well, Gary, old buddy. The sneer curled around those dangerous teeth. What do we have here? Wolf moved closer, the knife relaxed at his side and the hunting face fixed on Gary.

      Ahhh, nothing Wolf. Just a misunderstanding.

      Did you misunderstand something? I thought you were learning quite well, Gary - becoming a half decent hunter.

      Yeah, we’re great out there, Wolf, a great team.

      So the monthly cull bonus isn’t enough? Wolf was enjoying this, Grace could tell.

      Oh, no, that’s been great. It’s the best job I’ve had. I thought-

      You’re better when you don’t think, Gary. Wolf’s smile was sharp as a knife.

      Gary was trying to shuffle his pants up and move away from Grace at the same time. You know what a tease she is.

      Oh she is such a tease. But she’s mine, Gary, my little birdy.

      Of course Wolf. Gary was shaking now. Please don’t...

      Wolf looked closer at him. You forgot your silly little charm today.

      Gary’s hand flew to his throat and Wolf stepped in with the knife, thrusting low and easy.

      Too late Gary was galvanised into action and flailed wildly at Wolf but the knife was already home.

      Weaker than the deer, Wolf said and dragged the knife across Gary’s belly.

      A piercing scream was released from Gary, and Grace felt faint. She pressed against the wall to stay upright, to focus on Wolf. The high wail went on until Wolf pulled the knife out and Gary crashed into a table then on to the floor.

      Naughty, naughty, little birdy, said Wolf, looking down at Gary. That might deserve another scar.

      Grace tightened her fist around Gary’s necklace. She had to do it soon or his eyes would be back on her.  And the cloak, oh, the cloak, was waiting, she thought.

      Urrgghh.. said Gary at their feet.

      Wolf straddled Gary’s back and hauled back his hair to hold the knife at his throat. The animal was in Wolf’s face, in the snarl on his lips as he licked Gary’s ear. Bad day to forget that charm.

      There was nothing merciful about the knife stroke; it was slow and deep and rough. Blood squirted on to the rug.

      Grace bent and thrust her fist into Wolf’s face, forcing the silver bullet into a bright hungry eye.

      He didn’t forget.

      Wolf reared back with a howl, dropping the knife and scrabbling at his face. Bloody liquid ran between his fingers. Snatching the knife from the floor Grace punched it in to his chest.

      Even as Wolf slumped sideways his other eye was on her.  It was too dangerous to stay near him. As his bloody hands reached for her, Grace yanked the knife from his chest and ran, snatching up the rifle on the way.

      You can’t go far, she heard in her head.  You can’t leave the reach of the cloak. The words had repeated in her mind for six years. Over and over Grace had tried to push through the pain that would hit her at the front gate, like her human skin was being peeled off.  It was impossible to leave but now it didn’t matter. Patience had kept her going and now she was going to the cloak.

      She ran down the hallway past the line of deer heads with their hundreds of dead points.  The gun suddenly fired, nearly deafening her and she realised she had accidentally pulled the trigger. Wolf must have been in a hurry if he had left a round in. Only one though – the gun wasn’t going to save her. She banged open doors - to the unused dining room, then the kitchen. At the back door she was suddenly silent as she slipped outside.

      The dogs were going berserk, still in their cages on the back of Wolf’s ute. It was mild in the moonlit night but Grace shivered. She was always cold in this skin.

      A light flicked on in the house across the back paddock. That’s too-fucking-much, Wolf, shouted old Mr Green from the safety of his porch. I’m calling the cops this time. This time it wouldn’t matter if he did.

      Hidden in shadow, Grace glided around the side of the house to a small blacked-out window. Stowing the gun between the exposed piles of the house she took the flattened spoon hidden there. Carefully she swivelled the window latch and climbed in. It had taken her three years to work out a way in to Wolf’s trophy den

      Wolf would count the does and young bucks he and Gary shot towards the monthly cull quota. Twelve-pointers or more were mounted down the hallway. The really special kills were in Wolf’s den.

      Old Tusker, King Buck, She-Wolf, and Harrier saw her slip into the room. Boar, buck, wolf and hawk - the beautiful creatures were poised ready to attack, and frozen in death.  They were special trophies like her, that Wolf had hunted but kept here in death, rather than alive in his bed.

      Those nights had been the worst. After he’d spent hours in the shed with the creature’s carcass he would come to her, bloody and stinking - no longer ravenous but still full of insatiable appetite. When he raped her then she felt a hair’s breadth from being eaten alive.

      The three times she had risked searching in here before had only lasted a couple of minutes. The room physically sickened her. There was something too lifelike in the impotent fury of the four. It could have been her here, forever frozen, instead of Tusker or Harrier.

      Grace swallowed bile as she stepped forward under their stares. Did their eyes actually twitch towards her? She-Wolf’s crouching snarl vibrated in her stomach. Grace was gasping for breath in the thick, cold air

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