Heartless Hunter (Crimson Moth, #1)

by Kristen Ciccarelli

Rune couldn’t help but find them beautiful. Once a sign of superior status, the scars were now impossible to hide, making the old woman easy prey for witch hunters. It was why Rune never cut herself. She couldn’t afford to let them find the scars.

Because wherever Rune Winters went, her carefully crafted reputation came with her. She was an informer. A witch hater. A darling of the New Republic.

She didn’t feel ready to marry. It wasn’t a matter of not being in love with any of her suitors; Rune had never expected love. In fact, in her grandmother’s absence, sometimes Rune felt half-alive. Like her heart was a withered thing in her chest.

Rune was no longer capable of love, nor did she need it. What she needed was to make the most strategic choice.

It was more the finality of yoking herself to someone for the rest of her life that made her balk, especially when that someone ...

Gideon would rather ride his horse through a foot of mud, uphill, in a bloody hurricane than rub shoulders with the people here tonight.

So does he actually like being a witch hunter?

And Rune Winters was the worst of them.

For real?

He’d spent the last two hours making it for her, feeling slightly ill as he sewed every petal. Roses always brought the painful memories rushing back. But Harrow’s advice—to woo Rune—kept ringing through his head, and his mother could never resist the silk roses his father used to make her after they argued.

Alex rarely spoke about his family. What Rune knew, she knew from other people’s gossip: shortly before the revolution, a terrible sickness stole his little sister’s life. Not long after, his parents drowned in an unfortunate swimming accident, orphaning him and Gideon. But

several pieces of the story were missing. It started when the queens employed the Sharpes. Somewhere in the middle, three members of their family died.

And by the end, Gideon and Alex had slain all three quee...

This was her favorite place. Her safest place. And she had invited a dangerous enemy straight into it.

“Something wrong with that one?” Rune froze like a rabbit in a snare.

Oh snap!

If there weren’t a hundred other reasons to despise Gideon Sharpe, this would be sufficient: he didn’t have to hide who he was. He didn’t have to pretend to hate the things he truly loved. If she didn’t loathe him so much, she might envy him.

“Your laugh is like a fuse,” he said. “It lights you up.” Rune’s heart thudded. No one had ever told her that before.

Taking her chin gently in his fingers, Gideon turned her face toward his. His eyes were intense, his breathing shallow and uneven. “Rune,” he said, pupils dilating. He looked hungry suddenly. Like a man who hadn’t eaten in years. “Less talking.” He’s going to kiss me, she realized.

It was only when a sudden wetness appeared between her legs that she excused herself and made for the bathroom. There, she hiked up her skirts, pulled down her underwear, and found … Blood. Black blood.

Witches bleed black blood?! That s different

And if she isn’t the Moth? If she wasn’t, why invite him to her bedroom? Why flirt so shamelessly? Unless she was actually interested in him. Not possible, thought Gideon.

Why is that so hard to believe?!

If his mother were designing a dress for Rune Winters, what kind of dress would it be? He started sketching. The black charcoal burst across the white page as he thought of Rune on the love seat: her rose-gold hair flaming in the light of the lamps; her skin flushing as his fingers traced her; her pulse stumbling as he leaned in to kiss her.

“You wouldn’t have to cut yourself,” said Verity. “What do you mean?” asked Alex from behind them. Verity glanced back at him. “My sisters used to say that a witch’s skill is a combination of study and practice. The more she learns and memorizes, and the more she consistently practices her spellmarks, the more she excels at her spells. But an equally vital component is the blood she has access to. An accomplished

witch can master complex spells using her own fresh blood, or someone else’s. Rune can’t use her own, for obvious reasons, but she could use someone else’s—if they were willing to bear the scars.”

Nan had mentioned it to her once—that some witches used the blood of others to amplify their spells. This was necessary for immense magical workings, such as Majoras and Arcanas—the two highest categories of spellcraft. Majora spells required someone else’s blood given with permis...

Arcanas were the most powerful of all spells and had been outlawed for centuries. Not only were they considered wicked, they came with a considerable cost: if a witch took someone’s blood against their will, the spell using that blood would corrupt the witch. She would crave the power it g...

IN THE BEGINNING, THE attraction had been mutual. The first time he met Cressida Roseblood, he’d traveled to the palace with his mother to deliver a dress.

throat instead. If they were truly courting, though … If they were together … He shot his thoughts dead. Didn’t you learn your lesson from the first witch who drew you in? He and Rune would never be together. If Rune was the Moth, this courtship—if he could even call it that—ended with Gideon arresting her and Rune going to the purge. And if she wasn’t the Moth, he’d step aside and hope his brother finally worked up the courage to go after what he wanted. And that was the way it should be.

“Thank you for the dress, Gideon.” His name on her lips sent a tremor through him. His hands clenched. He wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. “My pleasure,” he murmured. When she pulled away and turned to get dressed, he decided against watching her shimmy back into her trousers, choosing to tidy up instead.

He wants her so bad!

They entered the atrium, which was encircled by a massive staircase spiraling to the top floor. Overhead, the glass-domed ceiling revealed a sky full of clouds. Holding up the dome were statues of the seven Ancients, chiseled out of marble. Liberty, with her gun held high. Mercy, with her arc of doves flying toward the glass. Wisdom, with an owl on her shoulder and an open book in her hands …

“We could say you came with me tonight,” said Alex, watching her. “If you’ve agreed to my offer.”

Oh snap! Is he about propose?!

“I want you to come with me.” “For a month, yes. You said that.” “Not for a month. I want you to leave with me and never come back. I want you to be free of this, Rune. You shouldn’t have to live in constant fear for your life.”

“What you’re describing is a happy ending. A fantasy.” She used his shoulders to steady herself as she hopped down from the chair. “And that’s great—for you. Not everyone gets to have that.”

Does she have feelings for him?! Or is she hesitant because she does not?!

“How many of the witches you save turn around and try to save you, Rune?”

Damn!!!