Free Blood Curse (Branded Trilogy Book 2) by Kat Flannery Page B

heart.
    He picked up a child’s handmade doll. The feet on the toy were singed from the fire, but everything else was still intact. He turned the doll in his palm, saw a name stitched on the back… Tsura.
    The child, whose hair had been cut short, donned trousers and wore a knit sweater. He frowned. He hadn’t missed the terror in Pril’s voice as she searched for her child, when she called Tsura’s name and as she begged for her daughter’s life. He picked up on the words—the meaning, and he’d known Tsura was the child he searched for. Relief and angst filled him. After months of hunting, he’d finally found her. He could make good on his word. The stakes would be high to get her back from who ever stole her, but he didn’t have a choice. Another life counted on him.
    He scanned the camp for Pril. She knew the Renoldis had taken her daughter. Soon she’d go in search of them, and he would follow. He hadn’t seen her since she left Galius’ wagon hours before. Her own wagon had been destroyed so he didn’t bother looking for her there. He didn’t know where the Renoldi camp was, and he needed to stay close to Pril in case she left. He ran his hand through his hair. He’d trail Pril, steal back the girl and head home.
    A commotion caught his attention, and he turned to see three of the Peddlers tossing destroyed furniture, pieces of their wagons and other household items into a burning pile at the center of camp.
    He stuffed the doll into his pocket, picked up a long piece of singed wood and walked toward them. It was a shame the peddlers had to start over. When he’d come into their camp two days before he was shocked to see how charming it was compared to some of the other gypsy camps he’d entered. Theirs resembled a small village. Gardens and bushes, placed into long wooden boxes, grew fruit and vegetables. Wood was neatly stacked, furniture in its place, and flowers hung from windows and doors. It was inviting and warm. Now as he stood in the center of the camp it resembled a war torn village with little left to continue on.
    Had they known the child was among them? Had they been aware and made a pact to protect her? And why was she so special? He groaned. There were no answers to his questions, and he was too exhausted to think on them any longer.
    “There is still so much we need to clear,” Ivan said beside him.
    The high flames from the fire warmed him, and Kade stepped closer to rid the chill in his bones. He tossed the wood he’d held onto the pile and watched as the fire ate it up.
    “It will get done.”
    “Yes, but it won’t fix the devastation within our hearts.”
    “You can rebuild. It will take time, but together you can do it,” he said.
    Ivan’s eyes reflected a deeper emotion, more than broken and burned wagons.
    “We’ve lost another child. I fear this one will have the same fate as the last.”
    “The last?” Who was the last, and what had happened to them?
    “Milosh’s daughter was killed nigh on thirteen days. We found her body over the hill.”
    He pumped his fist. Children should not die. There were a lot of awful people in the world that needed to meet the Almighty, and he’d helped a few get there, but not children. Never children. He thought of the reasons he was here. Why he’d trekked through every bloody town for miles. Why he was so desperate to find the girl with the mark.
    “Have you seen Pril?” he asked.
    Ivan turned and pointed toward her wagon, now a pile of rubble. On the far side, and away from view, Pril sat on her knees sifting through the debris. Her wavy red hair, pushed from her face, cascaded down her back where the ends dipped into the dirt on the ground. A green shawl draped across her arms and tied in the front. Determination thrust her shoulders back and set her jaw.
    “She is strong…but this will kill her,” Ivan said.
    The other man walked away, and Kade stretched his arms to rid the heaviness within his chest. He prayed no harm