The Blood Witch

7

Scarlet woke with a start. Her limbs flaying as she reached for something to hold on to. Coming up with nothing, It was as if she were floating through the air. No longer was she cushioned on the soft grass of her grandmother's land. Looking straight ahead, she was now in a room with a while ceiling. Turning her head, she could make out two doors, just the top of them. Finding that she was rather close to the ceiling rather than the floor, Scarlet turned her head. With that turn, her whole body spun, and she realized she was floating.

Her beat sped up as she gazed down on the bed. At least there was a bed. In the corner of the room a man with snow white hair and a young face murmured low and quick, words she could not hear. Beside the man stood a beautiful woman with flowing red hair and pale skin. She was dressed smartly, and she looked at Scarlet with open curiosity.

A smile graced her red lips as she said, "be still child, we are almost done." To the man she said, "Why is she awake? She should still be under."

The man grunted and opened one blood red eye, glaring at the woman. "She's difficult. It was hard enough putting her under the first time. She's strong, real strong. Even asleep, she fought to keep me out of her head."

"Or perhaps you're getting old," the woman, said cheekily, before stepping towards her on dangerously high heels, but each step was careful and calculated. Up close, she was blindingly beautiful, as if her features were crafted rather than born.

"Who are you people?" Scarlet asked. She was proud that her voice came out steady, considering she was floating six feet above the thin mattress below her.

"I am Dr. Stella Edwards, head physician at The Hall of the Crows. This is Dakota Brownfog, chief healer and my assistant. Dakota, please release her."

With a wave of his hand, Scarlet fell without warning to the small mattress, and bounced before coming to rest on the small cot. Her head swam, and she vibrated with the force. Now safely on the ground, her first instinct was to run, but she had questions. She notice Dakota was still deep in his chant so she directed her question to Stella.

"How did I get here?" Scarlet asked. Her voice was strained, and it was becoming hard to focus. Suddenly, the room seemed cloudy. She swayed as a warm sensation washed over her. She just wanted to sleep. She was so tired. She tried hard to focus, but it was no use. Her eyes drooped and closed.

"I'm afraid we were not quite done with you dear." Stella said. "We need your thoughts and we have questions as well. This will make it easier, no stress. Just relax."

Through the haze, her voice felt far away, her hands on her shoulders felt heavy.

"Why isn't she going to sleep?" Stella yelled.

"She should be out," Dakota spoke in his gruff voice. "I told you she was a fighter."

"I don't care!" She yelled, her voice bouncing off the walls in the empty room. "I want to know who killed Charlotte. The crow will not wait another day."

Just like that, the fog began to clear as her words registered with a deep, penetrating pain that was followed by anger. Charlotte was dead? The next emotion that hit hard was guilt, as she realized she had not been able to save her. She felt the tears run down her face, and the lady gasp and by the click of her heels, she was stepping back.

"What's happening to her?" Stella whispered.

Her eyes popped open, and she could clearly see the woman standing in front of her. The man staggered a few steps back and looked as if he could not believe his eyes. Scarlet felt wired as the room hummed with her energy. She felt the wind on her neck and everything became an orange haze as she eyed the people in the room with her.

"Where is Charlotte?" Scarlett demanded, in a voice that sounded even unnatural to herself.

"What are you?" Stella stammered, her eyes wide.

"Maybe you didn't hear me, lady." She said, her voice low and steady. She wiped "How did I get here and where is my grandmother?"

"I...I..." Stella couldn't seem to get the words out.

It was pissing Scarlett off, tilting her head to the side. Her skin prickled and her fingers flexed. She wanted to drain her so badly she could taste it. The thought of watching her pretty face resemble a skeleton was almost too tempting to ignore. Scarlett jumped off the cot and approached the woman. She knew she was the stronger of the two. The fear coming from the woman was as enticing as chocolate cake. It would be easy.

For the briefest of moments, Scarlet wondered why she wanted this woman dead so much. What was wrong with her? The lust she felt for this woman's blood was not like her. Was she thinking of killing this woman who was now cowering in the corner? The man, long forgotten, was talking quickly into a phone.

Shaking herself visibly, Scarlet tried to calm down. It was fucking hard when she just kept getting angry. Her grandmother was dead, she was in this strange place, and they were going to do something to her. They had tried to make her go back to sleep... but why? The questions, the anger and the strange smells her would not let her mind rest. It was an ever-growing ball of anger inside her and she just wanted out.

"Scarlet, I need you to breathe."

She heard the voice. It rang with power and halted her where she stood. She heard the door close and heard footsteps as they approached. Scarlet could not move to defend herself or even look at the newcomer. She was semi-relieved when a tall, dark, and handsome man stepped into her viewing area. He dominated the space, blocking both Stella and Dakota from the sights.

He was tall, well over six feet, definitely closer to seven, she thought as he towered over her. He brought a deceiving calm to the room. t was deceiving because looking into his eyes, she saw they were pitch black. Initially, they were terrifying, but on closer inspection, they were not malicious at all. He stood there in only jeans, riding low on his hips, secured by a thick black belt. He didn't wear a shit, his expansive, broad chest on full display. Each movement caused his muscles to ripple in a trickle effect.

He stood before her, deep in thought. One hand gripped his hip, and the other tapped his chin in a thinking gesture. His most striking feature, though, was a pair of large black wings, protruding from his back. They spanned from wall to wall, effectively cutting the room in half.

"Now what am I supposed to do with you, Scarlet? I leave you alone for five minutes and you let the anger and blood lust get the best of you." He circled her, his wings creating a wave of wind that made her curly hair lift and fall gently. "We must work on our control, but a strong guardian will help with that. Yes, because you little witch is strong."

He came to stand before her again, his dark eyes searching her face. Stepping closer, he smiled and said, "You make speak."

Just like that, she could open her mouth. She had not even realized that he had taken her ability to speak until that moment. Still, she could not move.

"Who are you?" Scarlet asked.

He looked surprised for a moment, his eyes narrowed for a moment. Then he smiled and swept into a bow, "Triago Brainard, Head crow of the order."