Path Red Bluff Novels & Stories

“Fled me like a doe in the heart of Fall. Taking what parts of me were whole, with her.” “Is that why you’re so lost in the drink?” RedBayne lifted the tankard in salute. “The drink ne’er betrays ye. Ye’d do well to give up on the Gel and stay wit’ da drink!” “Would that I could.” Savage sent the furious redhead a glance. Catching the sight of the shadow near a pillar in the back. Phalanx. “I as well.” Savage said soberly. RedBayne snorted. Regaining Savage’s attention.

EARLIER IN THE DAY Richard parked his car by the street and stayed at the top of a building from where he could get a clear view of Red Blaze's lair with his binoculars. His day had been quite a busy one. From the moment they landed in Bangkok, he had been running around trying to understand the roads that led to Red Blaze's lair and Black Scorpion's Gang house.

** It had taken her three days to find a way back into Redstone. Blair kept her head down, hood up, scent masked beneath thick layers of herbs and ash. Every border had become tighter, more heavily patrolled, with wolves walking in pairs and eyes sharper than ever. But the west side, the cliffs veiled by mist and too treacherous to be a common path, was still vulnerable. It always had been. Grayson had never fixed it. And he hadn’t expected someone like her to come crawling back through the cracks.

“Great, then let’s go to Dawson City. We’ll ask around.” Our team arrived with the vehicle, and we drove towards our destination. “A team of Red Wolves has been sighted in the Brooks Range, Alaska, Alpha,” said a team member. “What about the other team?” “Maybe they’re following Cerelia,” suggested Alpha Datsyuk. “Possible.”

Sherbourn. Even when Makayla was gearing up to take Stacey down, she was already setting up her next play. Four Pines wasn’t just another forest—it was sacred ground. Endangered species. Fragile ecosystems. And a thorn in the side of any developer with dollar signs in their eyes. Stacey had learned nothing. Or worse—she’d learned everything and was moving faster than anyone could keep up. GreenFlare: Can someone quietly send me everything you’ve got on Red Cedar and LSB? I need dates, properties, owners, and aliases.

WE MOVED ON with our quest shortly after lunch. Jacob reminds us that we are about to pass an abandoned tribe. We were supposed to choose a different path but Jacob said that crossing the river might not be a good idea right now since it rain hard last night. The unearthly silence of the tribe welcomed us the moment we reached it. The sound of the wheels and the sound the horses made surrounds the place. Jacob mentioned earlier that after the second Blood War, the tribe people who used to live here abandoned this place.

I turned and walked out of the banquet hall. Behind me, the applause and cheers were sealed away by the doors. I felt heat rush from my nose. When I wiped it, my palm came away crimson. Blood dripped onto the carpet and spread quickly. I followed the emergency stairwell to the terrace. My vision began to blur. The city neon stretched into twisted lines. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Vivian Harkins. [Stop throwing a tantrum. After this ends, I'll take you for a late-night meal at that diner you like.]

“He’s inside my dreams now. I can’t Edward, I can’t escape him.” His arms wrapped around me, strong and certain. “Then we tear him out. Piece by piece. Until there’s nothing left.” The fire inside me flickered weakly, soothed by his certainty. But Aaron’s voice still lingered in my head, whispering like smoke. By morning, the camp was already alive with movement. Scouts prepared to leave, warriors sharpened their weapons, healers brewed concoctions that smelled sharp and bitter. The tension was thicker than fog. I joined Edward and Mara at the war table. A map of the Black Pines stretched across it, marked with inked circles where the shards had been destroyed. Only three remained.

Fog drenched and chilled, more like the Pacific Northwest than the hot and sunny parts of California most people think of. This is the last location Dad had in his planner. Ironclaw HQ, 1337 Eucalyptus Lane. D.R. Riven. It’ll be my first stop tomorrow morning. My rescuer’s truck slows in front of one of the bed-and-breakfasts. A weather-beaten wood sign flaps in the wind. Stillwater Pines. Despite the fact that it’s tourist season, the parking lot is mostly empty. Not a great omen.

“Write that down.” He was already pulling out a notebook. Subject One struggled for another word. Its claws flexed against the floor. “River,” it said. Caleb looked up. “River?” I asked. Subject One pressed its hand harder to the glass. “Red river. Before dark.” Daniel returned at the end of the hall, having heard enough to quicken his pace. “There was a settlement near Moonbreak Camp,” he said. “Red River Crossing.” The air left my lungs. Subject One closed its eyes and whispered one more broken word.