Read Beauties of the Beast (The Yellow Hoods, #4): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale Online
Authors: Adam Dreece
Beauties of the Beast (The Yellow Hoods, #4): Steampunk meets Fairy Tale
Contents
Chapter One - Hounding of the Gingerbread Man
Chapter Five - Death of the Hound
Chapter Six - Pieces of the Pieman
Chapter Seven - One for the Road
Chapter Eight - Watt Shines Brightly
Chapter Eleven - You Can Never Go Home
Chapter Thirteen - Without Regret
Chapter Fourteen - The Rocket and the Pack
Chapter Fifteen - Emotional Chasm
Chapter Sixteen - An Order of Redemption
Chapter Seventeen - A Benjamin, Tee'd Up
Chapter Eighteen - Unconventional Moment
Chapter Nineteen - Scout's Honor
Chapter Twenty - Thinking What I'm Thinking
Chapter Twenty-One - Family Matters
Chapter Twenty-Two - Red Hooded Plans
Chapter Twenty-Three - The Unexpected
Chapter Twenty-Four - Signaling the End
Chapter Twenty-Five - On Track
Chapter Twenty-Six - Kar'm'ic Trappings
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Up for the Fight
Chapter Twenty-Eight - To Air is Human
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Journeys Ahead
Chapter Thirty - Trained on the Morale Horizon
Chapter Thirty-One - Before the Dawn
Chapter Thirty-Two - The World, with a Wink
Beauties of the Beast
The Yellow Hoods
Book 4
by Adam Dreece
ADZO Publishing Inc.
Calgary, Canada
Copyright © 2015 by Adam Dreece.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator” at [email protected].
ADZO Publishing Inc.
Calgary, Alberta, Canada
www.adzopublishing.com
Printed in Canada, United States, and China
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Dreece, Adam, 1972-, author
Beauties of the beast / by Adam Dreece.
(Book 4 of the Yellow Hoods : an emergent steampunk series)
Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 978-0-9948184-0-9 (paperback).--ISBN 978-0-9948184-1-6 (pdf)
I. Title. II. Series: Dreece, Adam, 1972- . Yellow Hoods ; bk. 4.
| PS8607.R39B43 2015 | jC813'.6 | C2015-905074-X |
| | | C2015-905075-8 |
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 5/2/16 61,653
DEDICATION
To my wife, who holds me together when I start to rattle apart,
To my daughter, who always looks at me with hope and pride,
To my older son, whose questions and way of looking at the world is inspiring,
To my little guy, who reminds me that victory comes
with bumps, scratches,
and sometimes tears,
And to my unbelievable friends
and fans,
you are still, and forever will be
“All the Awesome.”
EORTHE
Cartographer: Driss of Zouak, 1793
Created at the behest of the Council of Southern Kingdoms
CHAPTER ONE
Hounding of the Gingerbread Man
In the blink of an eye, the Hound had been robbed of all the confidence and purpose he’d built up in recent months. One moment he’d been reveling in the power of the shock-gloves given him by Simon St. Malo, and the next he was sent screaming as he was struck by the rocket-cart, and splashed by the acid from the shock-gloves’ battery.
When Hans, Saul and Gretel had found him the next day, lying there, unable to move, he’d expected they would kill him. Something in Gretel’s light brown eyes had motivated him to gather every ounce of strength he had left and whisper to her for help. To his surprise, she said she would take care of him, and then she did.
She’d tended to his wounds for weeks while he laid there, wallowing in self-pity and despair. She spoke to him for hours, and in recent days, he’d started to listen. She was struggling with nightmares, and her own questions of self-worth. Then yesterday, he’d decided to make his awareness of her known. He thanked her, and rolled over, unsure what else to do or say. He’d never had anyone be so unconditionally kind to him.
Gretel’s soul-splitting scream traveled down the forest path, into the burning cabin, and into the soul of the Hound. His eyes snapped open. He roared in pain as he tried to sit up and failed. His body was a scarred and listless stranger to him, not yet willing to obey. After a second attempt, he rolled himself onto the wood plank floor.
He coughed violently as the thick smoke filling the cabin introduced itself to his lungs. All four walls of the small cabin were ablaze, with flames licking at the ceiling’s beams. Scanning about, he noticed something out of place and crawled forward to get a better look. It was Saul’s booted foot, sticking out from behind a toppled table. He vaguely remembered hearing Hans argue with Saul, and realized that Gretel’s psychopathic twin brother had set the fire after knocking Saul out.
“Saul,” he whispered, his voice raspy. After a long few seconds, he slapped the boot hard and yelled, “Saul!” With no reply, he wiggled his way up to Saul’s chest. He put his hand over Saul’s mouth, hoping to feel his breath, but he couldn’t feel anything. He rubbed his fingers together, unsure whether or not he could feel much anymore. Saul might very well be alive for all he knew.
He laid his weary head on the floor, trying to think. His lungs and body burned, and a voice inside him wanted him to just accept the fate he’d asked for so long, but Gretel’s scream still rang in his ears.
He glanced up at the burning ceiling. He knew he didn’t have much time. Trying to save Saul could mean both of them losing their lives, leaving Gretel to fall victim to whatever horrors were after her.
Finding the door, the Hound forced his body over to it, moving slowly on his hands and knees. He stared at the knob, so tempting and dangerous. He could hear the voice of Sister Mia from his childhood orphanage scolding him for even thinking of it. Laying on his back, he kicked the lower center of the door as hard as he could. Nothing happened.
He tried two more times without success, and finally lowered his legs in exhaustion. He felt dizzy, and gazed about, hoping for some inspiration. As if solely for that purpose, he heard Gretel scream again. With a roar, he kicked the door handle, breaking the door lock and then rolled out of the way as the door swung inwards. Grabbing Saul, he stood and staggered clear of the burning cabin.
Dropping Saul on the grass by a tree, the Hound fell back on all fours, coughing. His ears were filled with the sound of his blood rushing, but his mind was filled with thoughts of Gretel. “Where are you?” he whispered on the wind. Then, as the first notes of a fresh scream arrived, he was off in a dead run.
Hans laughed maniacally as Gretel stumbled, the fog in her mind growing as the effects of the Ginger-laced cookie he’d given her took hold. He wondered how Mother had come up with it, and if she’d found there any irony when he’d turned the tables on her. The concoction’s sweet smell hid its effects, which went from mild paralysis to outright blackouts and memory loss. He’d become a master of it, and had been supplementing Gretel’s regular mealtime dose with gingerbread cookies for years.
Telling Gretel that he was the man from her nightmares, that they had been
real
, was even more freeing than burning down Mother’s house. He felt like there was nothing he couldn’t do, no one that he couldn’t own.
“Come on, Gretel! Run! Run! As fast as you can, but you can’t outrun me, I’m the Gingerbread man!” He helped her up once again and then a moment later, shoved her over. “You can’t run from the Gingerbread Man? So sad. Twenty years of practice, and still not any good at it, are you?”
“Why are you doing this?” asked Gretel, terrified. Her hands and feet had already gone numb, and the ground seemed to tilt every time she tried to take a step.
Hans grabbed her by her long, platinum-blond hair. “Oh, that look, that doe-eyed fear, it’s really
something
. All those nightmares of yours, they were delightful moments, at least for me,” he said, his devilish light brown eyes preying on her. He let her go and gazed about at the silent forest.
Gretel tried to get up. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why? Well, one reason I recall,” he said crouching down to look at her, “you sided
against
me. Me, your own flesh and blood!” He took a moment to dust off his clothes and calm down.
Gretel tried to take a swing at him, but missed terribly.
“Oh, please,” he said, walking around her. “I can’t believe that you chose a broken animal of a man, one that we should have put down, over
me
. And where is he now?” Hans gestured to the empty forest around them. “Did you expect that you could nurse your broken beast back to health and he’d whisk you away? A lost dog turned secret prince?” Hans pointed at her and laughed hard. He wiped a fake tear. “Wouldn’t that be rich? The poor little forest girl, who has done horrible wrongs, washes away her sins and is made royal through her solitary noble act. Well, I’m sure sillier tales have been written.” He kicked her over.
