A Tale of Red Riding: Rise of the Alpha Huntress (The Alpha Huntress Series Book 1) Read online

  That was all Red could take. The rider had ignited a fire in her heart that she had never before known. “If that’s how you want it, why don’t you show me what you got, Wolf Boy?” she shouted.

  Without hesitation, the rider hit the throttle hard and began speeding straight at Red. She wasn’t about to let him intimidate her now, so she squeezed her throttle and sped right toward him. As the distance rapidly closed between them, Red realized she’d made a huge mistake. The rider wasn’t going to be the first to flinch.

  As much as she hated to admit it, there was a big difference between courage and stupidity. A mere second before impact, Red made a hard turn. She let out a yelp as her tires lost traction on the wet grass. Her motorcycle fell on its side and slid a dozen yards before coming to a stop.

  “That stupid crazy jerk is so going to get it,” she said.

  In a whirlwind of anger, Red stumbled to her feet. The sight of her favorite dress caked in mud was enough to make her growl. She’d saved up for six months to buy the outfit, and now it was ruined. She wanted to give the rider what she considered a well-deserved kick in the butt, but figured a guy unhinged enough to pull such a crazy stunt wasn’t somebody to scuffle with.

  Red watched with a mix of nervousness and irritation as the rider rolled to a stop nearby. He turned off his engine and shoved down the kickstand with his boot. She tried to get a look at his face as he pulled off his helmet and used his black shirt to wipe the mess of berries away from his visor, but he had an innate ability to keep his identity concealed in the shadows.

  “Would you just drop the mysterious man routine already?” Red shouted.

  The rider slammed down his helmet on the seat of his motorcycle. He stood looking at the ground for a tense moment, likely trying to calm himself. As he strutted over toward Red, he cracked his neck from one side to the other. Red stood up straight and did her best to look fearless. When his face finally came into the light, she was surprised to find he was just about the same age as her.

  “Oh my!”

  Red felt a bit lightheaded as she fought the urge to swoon. The rider’s long brown hair waved in the wind over his handsome face. A scar ran from below his left eye, all the way down the length of his cheek, giving him a rough and tough edge. His eyes appeared to be copper-colored, though it was hard to tell for sure in the pale moonlight.

  “You okay there, Little Red?” The rider had a deep, scratchy voice.

  Red gave him a suspicious glare. “How do you know my name?”

  The rider cracked a grin and pointed to her long red hair. “I didn’t, until you just told me.”

  Red grabbed a lock of her hair. “Oh, you called me ‘red’ because …” She stopped herself short, both annoyed and embarrassed.

  He took a step closer. “So tell me, Little Red, where are you headed so late in the night?”

  “Not your business, Wolf Boy.”

  The rider gave Red an odd look. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “I don’t know.” The way the rider glared at Red made her feel oddly uneasy. “Maybe because of the way you were howling earlier, Wolf Boy.”

  “Did it frighten you, Little Red?”

  “Bored now.”

  “Are you?”

  “Totally. So why don’t you get back on your big, bad bike and get lost already.”

  Red turned her back on the rider and walked over to her fallen motorcycle. As she strained to pull it up onto its wheels, she could feel him watching her every move. It took all her willpower to resist the urge to look at him. There was no denying that she was smitten by him and she didn’t like it one bit.

  “So you got anything yummy in your goody basket, Little Red?” the rider asked.

  Red grumbled in irritation. “What are you going on about, Wolf Boy?”

  The rider reached down and tried to open the basket tied to the back of Red’s motorcycle, but she smacked his hand away.

  “Never without my permission, Wolf Boy.”

  “Whatever you say, Little Red.” The rider gave Red a smug grin as he backed away.

  “Look, buddy, if you’re going to hang around acting all creepy stalker-like, the least you could do is help me get my poor little man out of the dirt,” Red said.

  “You don’t need my help. You should be plenty strong enough to pick up that tiny trike.”

  “Don’t push me, Wolf Boy.” Red pulled and pulled on her motorcycle with all her might, but she just couldn’t lift it more than a foot or two off the ground.

  “Pathetic. I know you can do better than that, Little Red.”

  “Stop saying my name like that.” Red stomped over and stood inches from the rider’s face. “You hear me, Wolf Boy?”

  “You’re cute when you’re angry, Little Red. But you need to calm down.”

  “Caln Down!” Red’s fist flew wild, pummeling him in the arm.

  The rider groaned. “Ouch. That hurt a lot.”

  “Well you had it coming, Wolf Boy.”

  The rider’s face tightened and twitched. He was clearly fighting the urge to lash out. This was enough to make Red shudder in fear. She figured that if he had any dangerous intentions in mind, this would be enough to set him off.

  “Listen, I’m sorry,” Red said. “I’ve never in all my life done a thing like that.”

  The rider rubbed his sore arm. “For a first hit, it sure had a lot of wham behind it.”

  “I don’t know how that could be. I’m totally weak.”

  “I’m thinking you’re a lot stronger than you realize, Little Red. That hit is going to leave a serious mark.”

  “If I’m so strong, why can’t I even pick up my own bike out of the mud?”

  “Because you’re trying instead of doing, Little Red.”

  “Now where have I heard that one before, Wolf Boy?”

  “Stop calling me that.” The rider stomped over and grabbed the handlebars of Red’s motorcycle. With one hand and an effortless heave, he pulled it up onto its wheels.

  “Wolf Boy! What big muscles you have.” Red was so embarrassed by the girly tone of her reaction that she smacked herself in the head.

  The rider flexed his muscles. “Think nothing of it.”

  “Already forgotten.” Red hopped onto her motorcycle. “Now, if you’re done with this creepy little game, it’s time for me to go anywhere away from here.”

  “Leaving so soon? Don’t you want to stay around and pick flowers or something, Little Red?”

  “Whatever that means.” Red stomped her boot down on her motorcycle’s kickstarter, but the engine didn’t start.

  “You’re wasting your time. That bike ain’t going anywhere unless you plan on pushing.”

  Red clenched her teeth. “Look, I get it. You think you’re all that and know everything there is to know. This time you’re totally wrong. My boy will start for me.” She again kicked the starter, with the same frustrating result.

  “Your bike is a boy?”

  “A little one, but definitely a male. Not like your little missus over there.” Red again kicked the starter. Still nothing.

  The rider looked at his motorcycle with a curious eye. “You’re saying that great big machine is a girl?”

  “Does the idea of that threaten your manliness, Wolf Boy?”

  “No. It just explains why she gets all temperamental once a month.”

  “Oh, that is so not funny.” Red kicked the starter, this time unleashing all of her angst. The motor just would not start.

  “You can kick that thing all night. It’s just not going to happen.”

  “What makes you so sure, Wolf Boy?”

  “Your fuel line is busted.” With a smug grin, the rider strutted away toward his motorcycle.

  Red glanced down to the underside of the gas tank. The fuel line was indeed snapped in half. “This is all your fault, you know?”

  “Whatever you say, Little Red.” The rider mounted his motorcycle and kicked the starter. The engine fired up with a thund
ering roar. “There’s a repair shop in town, but it won’t be open till morning, and it’s a long walk.”

  Red looked around at the dark forest, debating if it would be worse to deal with being stuck alone in the middle of nowhere all night, or to ask for help from the stranger she believed was responsible for her predicament.

  “So do you want a ride or not, Little Red?”

  Red had to fight the urge to tell him where she thought he should go. “You’re not going to try to make a move on me, are you?”

  “I make no promises.”

  Red had never felt so conflicted. Going with the rider could be dangerous, but staying in the forest alone felt just as risky. “Fine. I just need to do something real quick.”

  “Make it quick.” The rider revved his motor. “I ain’t got all night.”

  “Just chill out for a second.” As much as Red wanted to argue with him some more, she felt it best not to push the fates any further. She knelt down by her motorcycle and rubbed an affectionate hand over the seat. “I’ll be back for you just as soon as I can, my little man.”

  The rider revved his motor. This time it had a clear tone of impatience behind it.

  “Okay, okay, I’m coming.” Red took a deep breath to dismiss her fears as she walked over to join the rider.

  “Put this on so I don’t have to look at you.” The rider shoved his helmet onto her head.

  “What about you, Wolf Boy?”

  “What about me, Little Red?”

  As Red climbed onto the back of the rider’s motorcycle, she did her best to hide her attraction to him. The seat was small, forcing her to press her chest up against his back. She was startled to find his body temperature was far hotter than hers—or anyone she had ever touched.

  “So where we going, Little Red?”

  “I was on my way to a place called Wayward. Ever heard of it?”

  The rider grinned. “Heard of it. You’re right in the middle of it.”

  Red’s face lit up with a smile. “Finally, some good news for a change. I’m looking for somebody called Grenda Stalk. I have no idea where she lives.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I do,” said the Rider.

  Red took a nervous gulp. “If it’s not too far, would you please take me there?”

  “I can do that. First you gotta answer me one thing.” The rider looked back to Red with narrowed eyes. “Who is she to you?”

  “From what I understand, she’s my grandmother.”

  “Is that so? And for what reason are you going to see the old girl?”

  “How about we file that one under none of your business, Wolf Boy.”

  “How about I just leave you out here and whatever happens will also be none of my business.”

  Red bit down on her lip to hold back another snarky remark. “If you must know, I got a letter from her asking me to come live with her.”

  The rider let out a belting laugh. “I should have known.”

  “Is there something odd about that?” Red couldn’t tell if he found this humorous or upsetting.

  “Nothing odd about it at all.” The rider revved the engine hard. “But you better hang on tight, Little Red. It’s going to get bumpy from here.”

  Chapter 3

  As the mysterious rider raced at top speed through the dark woods, Red tried to keep track of the direction they were traveling. They passed a field of wild berries … a hillside covered from top to bottom in sunflowers … and a small river with a rickety old bridge. Even with these landmarks committed to memory, she knew the chances of finding the way back to her motorcycle on her own were not good.

  “I have a feeling my little man is totally doomed,” Red mumbled.

  “What are you complaining about?” the rider asked.

  Red hadn’t noticed how tight her arms were wrapped around the rider until she felt the muscles in his chest tense up. “Is there something wrong with you, Wolf Boy?”

  “Want me to make a list, Little Red?”

  The rider shut off his headlight and cut the motor. They coasted for about fifty yards before he hit the brakes and skidded to a stop. Red could again hear the creatures of the night stirring all around. The dark woods were alive with a symphony of peculiar sounds that felt like music.

  “End of the line.” The rider spoke not much louder than a whisper. “Your granny’s house is about a mile ahead.”

  Red could see his eyes surveying the area. It was certain that he was nervous about being there. She considered asking him why, but wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  “I guess I should thank you.” Feeling a bit nervous, Red stepped off the motorcycle. She returned the helmet to the rider.

  “Don’t make a thing of it. And don’t make a habit of it either,” the rider said.

  “Will I ever see you again? Or should I just kiss my little man goodbye?” Red tried to keep her tone civil, but it came out more like an accusation.

  “Little man?”

  Red rolled her eyes in irritation. “You know, my motorcycle.”

  The rider gave Red a sarcastic grin. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and wonder.”

  “I’ll be sure not to hold my breath,” Red muttered.

  They locked eyes for a tense moment. Red would never admit to it, but she wanted him to say something snarky or annoying that would get her blood boiling again.

  The rider finally looked away. “As long as you stay on the path you’ll be safe. Don’t think about straying even a little bit.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.” Red gazed down the dark path. The way the shadowed trees swayed in the wind made it look dreadfully creepy.

  “Hope you mean that, because you wouldn’t be around for me to tell you again.”

  Red wrapped her arms around herself as a nervous chill ran down her spine. “I didn’t get your name.”

  “You already know it, Red Riding.” The rider fired up his motor and revved the engine hard. He squeezed the throttle and sped away.

  “See you around, Wolf Boy.” Red bit down on her lip as she watched him fade away into the darkness. Part of her was glad to see him go, and part of her wanted him to stay. It wasn’t until he was gone from sight that she realized what he had called her.

  “Wait. Why did you just call me Red Riding?”

  The name Riding echoed out in Red’s mind. Whoever had abandoned her at the church as a child didn’t mention her last name. They had pinned a note to her dress that only said Please take good care of my Little Red. Making it even more confusing, the rider said that she already knew his name. It sent her mind spinning into a wild frenzy of hopeless speculation.

  Doing her best to dismiss these confusing thoughts, Red turned her attention to the dark path she hoped would lead to her grandmother’s house. It took all the courage she had to stand up straight and begin walking.

  The strange cackling and gurgling of creatures scurrying about in the near distance were enough to keep her on the straight and narrow. She even opted to wade through an ankle deep mud puddle rather than stepping around it, because the edges extended beyond the safety of the path.

  After a couple of minutes of walking, Red spotted a light glowing through the window of a small cottage. She took a careless step off the path to see around a tree that blocked her view. An ear-piercing shriek screeched out in the nearby bushes.

  To contain a startled yelp, she pressed a hand over her mouth, standing as still as possible. Another piercing shriek wailed out, followed by a vicious roar, and then the sound of flesh being chomped and shredded. It was so terrible that it made Red shudder with fear.

  In a whirlwind of panic, Red dashed as fast as her feet would carry her. The path was so dark that she could only hope not to slip or step into a hole and end up with a twisted ankle—or something far worse.

  After a lingering moment of terror she feared would never end, she reached a forest clearing outside the little cottage. A quick glance back at the path behind her revealed there wasn’t a sign
of anything sinister chasing after her.

  As Red caught her breath, she took in the sight of the stone cottage residing in the clearing. It was hard to make out all the details in the night, but something about it seemed almost unreal, as if it could only exist in a fantastic dream. Judging by the cracked and crumbling walls, it had been there for hundreds of years. Still, something about it was also safe and inviting, as if she had finally arrived home from a long journey.

  It took a bit of coaxing to get her feet moving again. With each step closer to the porch, Red was astonished to find that the air felt warmer and warmer. The cold breeze that had been blowing on her faded away.

  Standing at a safe distance from the door, Red peered through the front window, hoping to catch a glimpse of somebody inside. From what she could tell, the furnishings were about what one would expect to find in the home of an old lady.

  It took one more deep breath for Red to find the courage to step up onto the porch. For a tense moment she stood with a fist raised, trying to convince herself to knock on the door. It suddenly occurred to her that it could be quite dangerous to call on a stranger in middle of the night. In a place that was so far from any sign of civilization, something bad could happen to her and nobody would ever know about it.

  “Sure hope I don’t end up in some creepy old witch’s oven,” she muttered.

  Red knew that her fears, however sensible, were trying to hold her back. The idea of turning away now was just ridiculous, so without further hesitation she knocked two times on the wooden door. She waited no more than a brief instant without response before knocking again. A moment after that, she knocked again, and still again. The lack of a response was just maddening, although in truth only a brief instant had passed.

  As the seconds dragged on, Red paced around, considering her options. She pondered trying the doorknob to see if it was unlocked. That was just a little more risk than she was willing to take, at least at this point.

  Glancing down, she noticed a rather large doormat with the word WELCOME embroidered on it. Something about the gothic style lettering was familiar. She wasn’t sure if she had seen it in a dream or a distant memory, but the thought felt all too real to deny.