Page 36 of The Blood Widow

I picked up the lined paper and unfolded it.

Dear Miss Blood Wido, my name is Cherry. My mommy sad I shuld not rite you becus you not real. I tink you are. My mommy lies a lot. She tinks I lieing when I tell her her boy frend comes to my room sometimes. But I not. A fary said she will give this to you. They say the Blood Wido helps gurls. Can you help me? I live at 150 Miller Stret. Tank you.

P.S.

Dont tell Mommy I rite to you. She mit lock me in the closet agin.

I crumpledthe paper in my clenched fist. Anger swelled inside of me until I felt like I was going to burst at the seams or start whistling out of my ears like a teapot. I hated people so much. What kind of mother wouldn’t listen to her daughter? I wish I could say this kind of letter wasn’t common, but since the fairies started guiding people to me, I got them all the time.

I dropped the note and ran my hand through my hair to calm myself. My jaw clenched so tight a tooth might break. Children always brought Max’s dead face to mind, shredding my insides.

Oh yeah, I’ll help her alright, and I’ll take out her mom too.

Cole’s chest pressed against my side, invading my space. His firm muscles and the heat radiating off of him helped the tension in my body loosen. He didn’t even have to say anything for me to hear the ‘How bad is it?’ from his body language. I gestured to the paper on the floor. I couldn’t speak right now. Even after he picked it up, he stayed pressed against my side, so I leaned into him for support.

A small growl shook his chest, and the vibration rumbled through me as well. A shiver ran down my body in response. I stepped away.

“I’ll check in with a friend of mine. We might be able to put her in a better home. I know a pair of shifter parents who’ve been wanting to adopt. They’re good people.” Cole’s fixer mode was on, so I didn’t say anything. I’d let the sorrow hit me now, that way it wouldn’t later.

Several minutes had passed, but I hadn’t moved from my spot. A little hand touched my ankle, but I still didn’t move. Until my mind said it was enough, I’d stay this way. But after, I’d get ready to hunt some scumbags. That little girl wasn’t going to live another night scared in her own home. This was what the Blood Widow was made for.

Chapter

Eighteen

It felt great to be back in my own body. All my softness was gone, and my striking features were back. My cheekbones were sharp enough to cut paper, my almond shaped, yellow eyes didn’t sport bags underneath them, and my muscles were meant for battle. My breasts and ass were the only ounce of fat on me. I kind of missed the softness, though.

My blonde hair was in a side French braid that I twisted it into a small bun so I could put on my wig. It was shoulder length, curly, and blood-red. The bangs over my forehead made me look even younger, but maybe it’d relax the kid. I had a few different red wigs, the kids liked this one the most.

Cole was in black jeans and a black, long-sleeve Henley. He had spent the day getting information about my target. It was dark out, and I was ready to go. My blood was pumping, and the adrenaline that I loved coursed through my veins. It was time to kill some people.

“I’ll meet you there,” Cole said and walked out the door.

He didn’t even give me the chance to tell him not to come. Which was probably the point. The fucker.

I called on my portal magic. It appeared on top of the table. Not on the floor where I needed it.

“Stupid fucking power,” I grumbled and climbed onto a chair. When it chose a spot, the magic refused to move. I cleared my mind and thought about the girl’s closet.

I covered my mouth just in case the portal opened on the ceiling, and I had to fall to the ground. I learned the hard way, yelling in a stranger's house wasn’t a good idea.

When I first attempted to be the Blood Widow, I went through a portal into the closet of a woman who was known for getting abused by her husband. I created too much noise and ended up fighting for my life. Turned out, the husband was involved with the mafia. Oops. It all ended well, though. The woman became an owner of a haven for abused women. A woman who still called on the Blood Widow when the law couldn’t help them. Needless to say, I learned my lesson.

As soon as I disappeared into the portal, my body was free-falling at least six feet from the ground. A gut-sinking sensation twisted my insides as my arms windmilled, and I prepared to hit something solid. Freakin’, knew it.

When my feet hit the ground, I had to take a moment to steady my breathing and rapid heart rate. So, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and centered myself.

There was no light shining under the door, so I slowly opened it. I didn’t want to be seen, but I needed to see what was going on. As soon as the door was open wide enough, my eyes darted around the room.

Flowers covered the walls. A princess bed and a white dresser were the only pieces of furniture. A few toys were scattered on the floor. A doll glowed in the moonlight that reached under the edge of the bed. What grabbed my attention was the state it was in. The hair was cut off, the clothes were ripped, and the mouth had been scratched over with a pen.

My hands curled into fists. My jaw locked as I tried to keep myself under control. Little girls coveted their dolls assurrogates of themselves. If that little girl felt like that and her mom was doing nothing about it… I saw red. Anger swelled up inside of me as my eyes narrowed and every muscle in my body tightened. Flaring my nostrils, I was eager to strike.

The only thing that mattered, though, was the small body lying in the bed. She had her golden hair loose, the locks spread over her pillow. She was safe, and she’d stay that way from now on. Her villain was dying tonight.

I leaned against the wall and waited. My eyes never left the girl. She had a wall of pillows between her and the door which broke my heart to see. Little girls deserved to feel safe in their own homes.

I hadn’t been waiting long when the door to her room opened. A small stream of hallway light appeared, then a male form stepped in. He closed the door slowly, even going so far as to turn the knob, so it didn’t make a sound as it clicked into place. He tiptoed to the little girl’s bed.

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