Scarlet Snow

Chapter 6

'Oh dear! How uneasy I feel today, and at other times I like being with grandmother so much.'

Elsa's POV

It was coming closer.  I could hear it creeping through the grass, leaves crunching under its feet.  I could smell its damp, blood smeared fur and thick saliva.

It was the hunter.  And I was the prey.

"MOTHER!"

I jerked awake just in time to see the hardwood floor rushing at my face.  The next two minutes was a haze of pain and adrenaline as I tried to get rid of the cobwebs of my dream.

"Elsa, dear?"  Grandma.  "Are you in here?"

I rubbed my head and sat up, leaning my back against the couch as Grandma walked in.  Olaf ran right behind her, barking at her heels.

"Elsa, you're a mess!" she groaned.  "And look, you and that dog of yours tracked mud all over the floor!"

I glanced around.  Sure, the house wasn't beautiful, but it wasn't that bad.

Well, maybe it was.

Fat, muddy paw prints littered the ground.  They went everywhere, even the carpet.

Ugh, and I had the worst morning breath.  No, wait.  I hadn't washed out my mouth since biting Jack's hand to free myself.  Jack breath.  Disgusting.

"Clean up this mess right now, young lady."

"Ok."  I stood up.  "When did you get home?"

"Just a couple of minutes ago.  I had a lot of errands to run."  I glanced at the nearby kitchen window.  It was bright outside, definitely early morning.  Some errands.

"I'll take care of it right away," I promised.  I scooped Olaf into my arms and began walking away in search of the mop.

"Grandma, where's-?"

I stopped mid-sentence.  Grandma straightened and gave me an annoyed look.

"What, dear?" she asked.

"Nothing.  Never mind.  I just remembered."

I turned and hurried away, but the image of what I had seen remained burned in my mind.

A bite mark was clearly imprinted on Grandma's calf.  And it was still fresh.

——————

I had to go outside.  I had to get away from Grandma, what I had seen, what I had guessed.

Somehow it was all connected.  Grandma's bite, the silver dagger, the giant wolf, Jack knowing what was going on.  It was like a puzzle.  I just had to figure out how it worked.

I sat down on our wooden bench, well within the fenced boundaries of our yard.  I could only think of one explanation, but it seemed totally outrageous.

Grandma was a werewolf hunter.  She had to be.  Why else would she leave me a silver dagger?  And for some reason she had to hunt that big wolf, no, werewolf, last night.  And she didn't want to tell me, but she got bitten.

Did that mean Grandma was going to turn into a werewolf, or did that only happen on the full moon?  I tried to think back, but I couldn't remember what phase the moon was last night.

And where did Jack fit into this?  I had to think for a moment.  He must have been Grandma's partner a while ago, but why was beyond me.

Olaf ran to the fence and began barking wildly.  I glanced up.  Something was moving through the trees.  I could barely see it, if I squinted.  It was a wolf.  A large gray one.  Was it Black?  Or was it some other wolf?

We watched each other for a moment.  Even Olaf stopped barking.  Then I could have sworn the wolf nodded at me, turned, and vanished between the trees.

"I'm going insane," I decided.

Jack's POV

"You had her," Pitch snarled in my face. He was a full head taller than me, but I met his glare steadily. "She was right in front of you. Why didn't you kill her?"

"It was broad daylight, and the grandma could've showed up at any second," I replied.

"Would it matter as long as the girl was dead?"

"It would matter to me. Or do you not care if I live or die? That old lady wouldn't hesitate to kill me."

Pitch glared at me. I glared right back. I wasn't in the mood to take this from him, not right now. Not after last night. I had worked all night long to make sure Elsa didn't die. Not that she was any help, of course.

That girl really has some teeth, I thought, fighting the urge to touch the bite mark. It wasn't healing properly yet. It still was oozing small droplets of blood, but we didn't have any medicine in the cabin to cure it with. I'd have to tough it out.

"I don't like your tone of voice, boy. Remember who raised you when everybody else would just call you a monstrosity. I'll let this time slide. But fail to act again, and I'll slit your throat myself."

He turned on his heels and marched away. I glared at his receding back.

"Glad we had this little talk, dad," I snarled. I turned away. I had work to do.