Captain Renard Grimm Novels & Stories

There were a few surprised whimpers as the magic burned their skin. I heard a few gasps as the witches all raised their hands to their necks. Just behind their ears, the same 3 interlocked triangles, appeared. There was a final burst that came from the fire. Renard stepped forward immediately kneeling before me. I was still in wolf form, this is going to be a one way conversation. I thought. “Hello Alpha Astrid, my name is Renard. I am sorry my timing was poor, I was out of the country when I received the message.” He said and I nodded my head for him to continue.

Warren rose and held out his hand, "You have yourself a deal, and if the guy turns out to be bad, you owe me another favor." "It won't come to that, I promise. Let me give my friend a call." *** The team waited outside a burned-out office building. A man in a leather jacket came to the hatch and threw a duffel bag into the Scald Crow. Warren stared at him for several long seconds. The five o clock shadow and the hair parted to the right, and the deep green eyes reminded Warren of his father. Grace caressed her clavicle, "Grace O' Hara, captain of the Scald Crow," She extended her hand and best smile.

"Fucking traitors..." Eren’s voice was ice cold and so were his eyes as he spoke the words, observing the group of bastards who dared to betray him and join hands with the fire bastard, led by the Geraldine’s father, Mr. Renaldy, who barely looked like himself, the once dignified man was but a shadow of his old self, he looked miserable and half dead, as if he had no reason to live anymore.

He goes to yell for help but it's too late as the blade seeps through his throat without hesitation. Lard plucks the knife out of that green throat. He wipes the blood off the wooden table before placing the knife back where it came from. Garth gives a proud smirk. “Not bad.” Lard looks up and over the large man and gives a warm smile. “I learn from the best.” A voice that also matches the tone of pride. Romera joins up with them under the canopy. The captain looks at her and motions her over. She obeys. A dense whisper shakes from the captain’s throat. “A good hunt, eh?” The navigator nods her head and then approaches the trap door. “Aye, that creature will never be getting up again.” Her e

When I reached the door, I took a deep breath and knocked three times. “Come in,” a familiar voice called from inside. I opened the door and stepped in. Sitting across from Principal Hargrove was a ridiculously hot guy with dark, slightly tousled hair and striking dark green eyes. I recognized him instantly. Sebastian Hale. Westfield’s captain. The one who had dismantled Hawthorne’s offense on Friday night and smiled at me afterward like he actually saw me.

He stared straight ahead, his amber eyes fixed on the man sitting across from them at the far end of the table. Grand Marshal Vance looked older than he had twenty-four hours ago. His left arm was cradled in a stiff leather sling, a consequence of a last-minute parry against a Janissary mace, but his posture remained as unyielding as the fortress walls he had successfully defended. Behind his chair stood Captain Renard, holding a heavy iron lockbox that had been recovered from the submerged captain's quarters of the sunken Eastern flagship.

I walk with Enrique to meet them. The front man is short, broad-shouldered, late forties … early fifties. Weathered face. Calm eyes that miss nothing. Wearing a suit as if he doesn’t really want to. He extends his hand. “I’m Captain Maron.” Enrique shakes it. “Enrique Blackburn.” Then he gestures toward me. I clasp the captain’s hand. His grip is firm, deliberate. “Damion Grimm.” His eyes flick over me once. Assessing.

"Get your coat." By the time we walked down to the subterranean parking structure, my hands were clammy. We bumped into Elder Renaud near the heavy iron elevator doors. The older wolf took one sharp look at my full waistline and my disheveled hair, his eyes widening in complete shock before turning a smug grin onto Declan. "Well now, Alpha Hawthorne," Elder Renaud chuckled, his eyes lingering on me. "Is this the female keeping you up past the full moon? I didn't realize you had finally chosen a mate to walk your grounds."

“What is this? More forest vermin to be crushed?” Elder Niam’s voice boomed, amplified by the strange acoustics of the grove or by magic itself. “You defile a place of peace. You threaten a child under our protection. You have violated the covenant.” His glowing eyes swept over Renejay’s warriors. “Leave this place. Now. Or be forgotten by the world you know.” One of Renejay’s captains laughed, a harsh, dismissive sound. “Old man, your sticks don’t frighten us.”