Dancing with Huntress

By Lisa Schrock-Ohlinger

A mansion full of secrets,

an angel trapped by her past,

and the boy who is about to unravel it all.



Alex Carmichael never believed he was anything special - until he met Huntress. Ready or not, he is thrown into the dangerous a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angel Wings Press LLC
• Release date: Dec 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9798218071424

Lisa Schrock-Ohlinger

Lisa Schrock-Ohlinger lives in the mitten of Michigan with her charming husband, adventurous little boy and crazy diva dog. She attended Adrian College where she received her degree in Musical Theatre. She enjoys making playlists for every occasion, singing Disney songs and performing in local musicals. "Hey everybody - let's put on a show!" The story of Huntress and her friends began when Lisa was 14 years old. She "published" the first version of this book, then called Saving Grace, her senior year of high school.

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Prologue

Huntress

You’re joking, right? I stormed into Thomas’s study, nearly smacking the heavy mahogany door into his priceless Monet. He sat behind his elegant desk, peacefully reading away, not even bothering to look up. I shot him a dark look and crossed the room in two strides. Nothing! It was almost like he’d been expecting this.

Sometime during the night, someone had sneakily slipped a mission folder under my door. I chucked the folder on his desk, landing it dangerously close to his Victorian teacup. You can’t honestly be serious about this.

Hello Huntress. How are you? Fine weather we’re having.

Don’t change the subject! Please explain to me why I have to risk my life to find this— I picked up the picture that had slipped out and grimaced. —this idiot! It’s YOUR idea; you get him. With a flick of my wrist, I sent the picture sailing and in one fluid motion he caught it, never taking his eyes off the book. He finally peered over the top of his glasses with one of his all-knowing looks. I hate that look. He used it on me when I was a little girl—when he knew I’d neglected my studies to run off and practice swordsmanship. No matter how many years went by, he still had a way of making me feel like a child.

You know I don’t do those kinds of errands anymore. He licked his finger and turned the page. That’s why I have you my dear.

My eyes narrowed and a duel of wills raged in the silence of the study. Finally, the antique clock over the fireplace broke the tension, merrily chiming the hour. I let out a long sigh and hung my head in defeat. It was always a losing battle with him.

First, explain why we need him. The team is doing just fine as it is.

It’s true, he said, closing his book. We haven’t been doing badly of late. But I’ve gotten word that other groups are adding people like him, and it seems to be working quite well. Just the other day, Michael was telling me how one of his kind saved an entire busload of children. Isn’t that marvelous?

Yeah, great. I flopped into an overstuffed chair. Had he completely forgotten about the hundreds—maybe millions—of people we had saved? We had stopped at least a dozen wars before they started. Apparently, that wasn’t good enough.

Thomas shook his head; a sly smile began to take shape as a lone strand of silver hair dared to fall out of place. He quickly pushed it back into submission and returned his book to the overflowing shelves. Books were slowly taking over the room. Stacks were forming in the most unlikely places and being used as makeshift tables; at this rate we would soon have a second library on our hands. He traced his finger along the hundreds of titles, ignoring me once again.

I’ll acknowledge that you three have accomplished a great deal over the past few years. I’m still astonished by what you did in Shanghai; that was pure brilliance.

I guess, I sighed, fiddling with a lock of my hair. I picked a knick-knack off his desk. Where did he get all this stuff? It seemed to have come from all over the world, but he hardly left the house anymore. I tossed it in the air, catching it at the last second. Thomas was at my side in a flash, and snatched it away.

Honestly, you can be such a child sometimes. Think about it, Huntress; it’s been years since we added anyone to the team. It’s time to shake things up. With this boy’s help, we might even be able to rescue—

I abruptly held up my hand. I’m going to stop you right there. I knew exactly where he was headed and was in no mood to talk about that. Not today.

Thomas paused and gazed out one of the stained-glass windows, as if lost in a different place and time. When he turned around, his usual smile was back in place. I’m sorry, I’m getting off topic. I know you don’t like new people coming in; it’s completely understandable, given your history. But we need him. You were never this opposed to adding a member before. Why is this so different?

He’s not like us! We’ll never be able to trust him.

Huntress, I assure you he won’t be a threat. He is untrained, untarnished ... a total blank slate.

I rubbed my temples in frustration. Awesome. So not only do I have to find this loser, we’ll be starting at ground zero. We don’t even know how to train someone like him!

There are plenty of books in our library, Thomas continued. He can just...figure it out. Alright, I suppose it does seem like a lot, but I really think he’ll make a great addition to the team. I have a feeling you’ll see him as part of the family in no time.

The very idea made me want to flip his desk over right then and there. He could pitch this scheme a thousand different ways; I was never going to be on board. This was my team and this house was my refuge. I was not about to let some stranger waltz in and disrupt everything I held dear.

Thomas returned to his seat, his eyes dancing at the prospect of a new team member. He calmly raised his teacup to his lips and peered at me with challenging eyes. Just give him a chance, Huntress. If he’s a total disaster, we can wipe his memory and send him packing.

I shook my head in surrender. I could never tell this man no; I owed him...everything. Fine! But I want it noted that I never wanted him here. If this all blows up, which it literally might, don’t come crying to me.

Duly noted. Thank you, my girl, Thomas beamed, unable to hide the triumph in his voice.

Yeah, yeah. I studied him for a moment before I left. To anyone else he might look like an unremarkable old man. But I knew who he really was and what he was capable of. When I first started out, he was the one who trained me, and had often joined me on missions. I never understood why he stopped. He wasn’t in terrible shape. Perhaps he’d seen too much, or maybe he was just tired. Whatever the reason, I wasn’t about to push him back into that terrifying world.

I walked down the hallway in no particular rush, pausing before some of my favorite works of art. Over the years, I had transformed the mansion into my private art gallery. Each piece was a reminder of a mission. We’d been on so many it was hard to keep them straight. Some were gifts from people we had saved. But most people never even realized they had been in danger, and that’s how I preferred it. I wasn’t doing this for accolades or fame; knowing that people could sleep soundly—unaware of what lurked in the shadows—was reward enough for me.

I ran my fingers along the rich wood paneling. This house was truly a masterpiece, every room steeped with old world elegance. The morning sun cascaded across the shimmering chandeliers, sending little rainbows dancing across the floor. I glanced around to make sure no one was looking before twirling down the hall, reveling in the colorful downpour.

As I rounded the corner, I felt a slight vibration in the walls. The chandeliers felt it too, and timidly shivered out their own nervous melody. I followed the resounding beat until I was standing outside the gym. I swung open the door and was met by a thunderous wall of girl-power music.

Across the vast room, I spotted Bella going to town on the punching bag. Her fiery red hair was flying out in every direction; she looked like a phoenix. This was a far cry from the girl who had walked through these doors so long ago. She attacked the bag with rapid fire, spun around and gave it a brutal kick. After one last jab, she rested her head against the bag, panting.

I slowly clapped in approval. You’re getting better. One of these days you might even give me a run for my money.

How about now? she said playfully. She had never quite lost her charming British accent and I hoped she never would; it suited her perfectly.

Maybe we can go a few rounds when I get back.

"Oh, so you’re going to fetch the boy? she teased, raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. I take it Thomas didn’t listen to you."

When has Thomas ever listened to me? I grumbled, tossing her a towel. Better change before I get back. You’ll give Jack and the new guy a heart attack in those pants.

I don’t care what Jack thinks, Bella scoffed as she took a swig of water. He’s already come in here half a dozen times, claiming he ‘forgot something.’ He’s working on a bloody car! What exactly did he leave in the gym—a steering wheel? Honestly!

When will those two figure out that they are completely mad for each other? This dance of theirs had been going on since the day they met but I’d learned to just stay out of things. Besides, I got way too much pleasure watching the fireworks.

Hey, do you want me to come with you? You know, like old times? Just the girls, off on another wild adventure. We could go shopping!

It was tempting; Bella’s cheery attitude was often just what I needed, especially on our more dangerous missions. But the fewer people on this trip the better. I didn’t need the new guy losing his mind like every other man who met Bella. Far too many sonnets and ballads had been written in her honor over the years.

Thanks, but I think I’ll handle this one on my own.

If you insist. I’ll see you when you return, m’lady. She dropped into a perfect curtsy—such a fighter one minute and such a lady the next.

Okay, I called over my shoulder. Next time I see you I’ll have our new lackey.

As I headed towards Jack’s workshop, I could hear Journey blaring away and Jack singing along enthusiastically. Yes! He’s in a good mood—perfect time to ask for a favor.

I strolled in with my hands behind my back; Jack is very particular about people touching things. He’s quite the slob around the house, especially his room, but everything here was meticulously organized. It was like an automotive operating room, equipped with every possible wrench, screwdriver and who knows what.

Jack? Hello? Jack! I marched over to his arena-size sound system and turned it down. Much better. The door to the garage was open, maybe he was out there.

JACK!

WHAT! he rolled out from under a car, looking like the very definition of a grease monkey. His hands were covered in gunk as was his once-white shirt. Maybe it was never white. Grime was even embedded in his shaggy blonde hair.

Wow. You need a shower.

Well, if someone would stop messin’ up my cars, I wouldn’t be so dirty, now would I? he replied in his Alabama drawl. He got to his feet, pulled a rag from his pocket and tried to wipe the grime from his hands, without much luck. I perused the car in question. The whole thing was caked in a thick layer of mud. There was a major dent in the hood, nasty gashes in the doors, and some large tree branches sticking out of the back seat.

I don’t remember doing that.

Girl, don’t lie to me, he warned, pointing a greasy finger in my face. I was right there; I saw you do it. I told you not to take her off-road, but did you listen? No. Huntress just has to do things her way.

You said it had four-wheel drive.

Yes! But it wasn’t meant to go full speed through the Amazon! I’m still trying to get part of that jungle out from under the hood! There better not be a snake in there!

Listen, I said, casually leaning against the hood. Something from the engine clanged to the floor. Jack just shook his head. Anyway...I need a favor.

Sure, he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He could be quite intimidating when necessary, but I knew he was a softy at heart. As long as it doesn’t involve borrowing one of my cars.

I need to borrow a car.

Son of a biscuit, Huntress! Not another one of my babies! Can’t you take your motorcycle?

No. I’m going to go pick up the new guy and I don’t want him with me on my motorcycle.

So it gets a little cozy? Is that the worst thing in the world?

Yes.

Well, too bad. You’re not taking one of my cars.

Please, I just need it for a day—two days tops.

Jack put his face in his hands and sighed. When he looked up, there were new smudges where his fingers had been. It took all my strength not to laugh.

Fine! You can borrow a car, but it has to be small!

Thank you, I said, gliding over to the wall of keys. Each hook was neatly labeled, and every key had its own fun little keychain attached. I looked through all my favorites until I spotted a new one.

Something small you say?

Yeah, nothing big.

Okay, I’ll take the Porsche.

WHAT!

I grabbed the keys and dashed down the line of cars, with Jack yelling after me.

Huntress! I swear if you bring that car back scratched, bruised, burned or on empty, I will tan that hide of yours! Don’t think I won’t!

I slipped behind the wheel and peeked my head out the window, shooting him a winning smile. Thanks for the car, Jack! I’ll take good care of her! I keyed the address into the GPS and buckled up. Alex Carmichael, I hope you’re ready for the ride of your life.

Chapter 1

Alex

ALEX CARMICHAEL!

WHAT? I tumbled out of my chair, knocking my keyboard to the floor along with several Star Wars action figures. No, not Luke! I quickly began picking everything up while my boss’s eyes burned into the back of my head. I sheepishly slid back into my seat, not daring to look up. I knew what was coming next and so did everyone in the office; I could feel their attention gravitate in our direction. This was what Mr. Lovett lived for. He hiked his pants up another few inches and took in a deep breath.

This is the second time this week I’ve caught you sleeping at your desk, Carmichael. I don’t pay you to take naps. It’s not my fault you stayed up all night playing video games—or whatever it is you do in your spare time.

Actually, it was another season of—

Do I look like I care Carmichael?

No. No you do not sir.

If I catch you dozing off one more time you’ll be out of a job. Do you hear me? You aren’t so special; I can find a million other programmers just as good if not better than you, like that! He snapped his fat fingers in my face.

Ok, I said, keeping my eyes down. Good talk. He started to say something more, but shook his head and stomped away. The spectators quickly dispersed; the show was over, at least for now.

I leaned back in my chair and let out a sigh. I hate how much power that man has over me; he always makes me feel about an inch tall. I didn’t think Mr. Lovett would actually fire me—I’m one of the best programmers here—but I didn’t want to push my luck either.

I stared at the certificates pinned to my cubical wall, thanking me for another year of service. I’d been here for nearly three years now and these two pieces of paper were all I had to show for it. I’d thought about quitting several times—I clearly wasn’t appreciated here—but I just couldn’t. So I sucked it up and carried on. They had to promote me eventually, why rock the boat?

I turned back to my computer and scrolled through my to-do list. I knew I should get started but my motivation was seriously lacking. Oh look—it’s almost two; time for my afternoon coffee run. I grabbed my jacket and weaved my way through the familiar maze. Hardly anyone looked up as I passed by. They only seem to notice me when Mr. Lovett is using me as a verbal punching bag.

I darted across the bustling Chicago street to my regular coffee shop. It was packed with tourists along with regulars like myself. The line was long but I didn’t mind—anything to keep me out of the office for a while. All too soon, I was at the counter.

Hey Tatum. I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that I know all the baristas’ names.

Hey Alex. The usual? She began punching in my order before I even gave it.

You know me so well.

One of these days I’ll get you to switch things up.

Good luck with that.

Next time I’ll make you something special—on the house. What do ya say?

I looked down at my feet awkwardly. Tatum flirts with me every time I come in but I always brush her off.

I don’t know, I’m not very adventurous. I think I’ll have to pass.

Okay, she said, masking her disappointment with an over-the-top smile. See you tomorrow then. I gave a weak nod and headed to the condiment bar.

A romantic relationship just isn’t in the cards for me right now. After my last catastrophe of a relationship—if it could even be called that—I’d had enough. I was done with the blind dates and all the awkwardness that came with them. Call me old fashioned but I want the next girl to be...the one. Not just a pretty face, but someone smart, witty and maybe a little nerdy. Who was I kidding? Even if I met someone like that, she probably wouldn’t give me the time of day.

Can you hand me a stir stick?

Sure. Here you go…

My heart skipped a beat as I beheld one of the most striking women I’d ever seen. Her exquisite face was surrounded by a cascade of loose brown curls that tumbled out from her wide-brimmed hat. She was dressed all in black, and her long trench coat did little to conceal her elaborate corset—or the gauzy top peeking out from beneath it. Tight black pants hugged her legs perfectly before disappearing into her knee-high boots. There was a dangerous yet alluring quality about her that rattled me to my core. Her dark chestnut eyes abruptly narrowed in on me. Somehow, they seemed so much older than the rest of her.

Can I have the stick please? she asked, a little snappier this time. Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to stare?

I don’t have parents. I blurted out. I mean I did but they died. What was that? It was like I had no control over my mouth. It’s fine. I’m fine. They died...a long time ago. I could already feel the blood rushing to my face.

So, she smirked. Should I call you Bruce Wayne then?

Oh my gosh, a girl this gorgeous just made a Batman reference. Who is this woman? I tried my hardest not to stare at her perfect lips. Calm down. You don’t want her to think you’re a total idiot. I leaned against the bar, trying to look cool, but knocked over my coffee instead. I clumsily caught the cup and saved some of it, but the damage had been done; my hand was burning and the bar was a complete mess.

So, you’re into superheroes? I said, pretending my hand wasn’t on fire.

Sure, I guess you could say that.

That’s nifty. Nifty? What century am I from? Come on Alex! You can do better than this!

Whatcha drinking? she asked.

Coffee?

What a surprise, me too, she said dryly. Well, to be precise, it’s a cinnamon double shot oat milk latte. I like to try something new every time.

That’s cool. I’m more of a purist. I like an earthy tone, but I guess it’s really all about the beans. I always enjoy a good roast from...Botswana.

Botswana?

Yep, they have great beans there, robust, but with subtle fruity notes. Where was this coming from? I had no idea what I was talking about.

Never tried coffee from there, but to each his own. She picked up her wallet and rather peculiar phone. Oh no! She’s leaving. I didn’t get her name or number!

My name’s Alex by the way. Alex Carmichael, I called after her. What did you say your name was?

She turned back dramatically, a seductive little smile on her ruby lips. I didn’t.

With that she disappeared into the crowd. A group of rather annoyed tourists reached around me, trying to get to the straws. I would gladly have moved, but I couldn’t; it was as if my legs had suddenly forgotten how to work. Who was that woman? And why did I act like such a moron? But more importantly, how could I see her again?

I was so distracted on my way back to the office I nearly walked right into the side of a taxi. I sat down at my desk and attempted to work, but couldn’t focus. I had to know more about the woman in black. This was probably a long shot but it was worth a try. I searched dark-haired girl in black. Endless images flooded the screen. I needed to narrow this down...her hat! Dark-haired girl in black, wide-brimmed hat. Row after row of pictures popped up. After scrolling through about a dozen pages, I spotted her! She appeared to be in some third world country, wearing the same outfit she had on today. I took the image and began using it to find others.

To my surprise hundreds of pictures began to surface. She was everywhere! England, China, France, Dubai...there didn’t seem to be a country she hadn’t visited. I began to notice other faces repeatedly popping up alongside her, especially an elegant red-haired young woman. A tall, muscular blonde guy also showed up frequently. Even stranger were the dates of the photos; 1970, 1954, 1943...there were even a few grainy images from the eighteen hundreds. I took off my glasses and leaned back in my chair. How could the same person be in all these pictures? The more I searched, the deeper into the rabbit hole I fell. Yet one thing seemed to link everything together, a single word—Huntress. What did it mean?

The office began to stir. It was almost five and all I’d done was look up pictures of a girl I’d probably never see again! I would pay for that tomorrow.

On my walk home, my mind was awash with images and theories about the mystifying woman in black. I trudged up the five floors to my apartment and tossed my satchel onto a chair. My apartment wasn’t much but it was home. Framed movie posters lined the walls, and a variety of collectables had taken over the shelves. But my pride and joy was the state-of-the-art gaming system that dominated the living room. I kicked off my shoes and let out a long sigh. I need to forget about this girl—this Huntress. Time for some comfy clothes, ramen and gaming!

I spent most of my evenings this way. I might not be very adventurous in the real world, but online I could live a different life. No quest was too hard, no boss too difficult.

I’d just settled into my spot on the couch when I got the odd sensation that something wasn’t right. I stood up and scanned the apartment, but nothing seemed out of place. A subtle breeze grazed the back of my neck and I realized one of my windows was wide open. I slowly closed it and paused for a moment. I’d seen enough horror movies to know that this is where the victim turns around and sees their killer for the first and usually last time. I was not about to be that guy! My light saber was within reach. It was just a toy but it was better than nothing. I wrapped my hand around the hilt, whirled around and...

What are these?

It was her—the girl in black! She was standing in my living room, picking up my action figures, examining them one by one. This had to be a dream. I closed my eyes and counted to three but when I opened them again, she was still there, a bemused look on her face.

Seriously, what do you do with these? And what exactly were you planning to do with that?

Um...defend myself. I sheepishly put the light saber back on the wall. What are you doing in my house? Who are you?

First answer my question. I mean, if you’re going to buy all this stuff, shouldn’t you at least take it out of the box?

They’re more valuable if you don’t.

Okay, so you collect them and then what? Stare at them?

Well...yeah, I guess.

Interesting. She began to stroll through my apartment, assessing everything I owned. I suddenly wished I were a little tidier; there were dirty dishes in the sink and a basket of laundry sitting out. I felt her silent judgement with every click of her high-heeled boots. And yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off her; she was absolutely stunning. I nervously followed her into the kitchen, where she ran a judgmental finger along the counter.

Hold up. How did you get in here?

The window, she said with a wink. I thought that was rather obvious.

Do you want something? I don’t have a lot of money.

No, I don’t need money. She brushed past me on her way back to the living room. The scent of roses seemed to follow wherever she went. She abruptly spun on her heels and locked her dark eyes on me. Alex Carmichael, I need you to come with me.

Excuse me? Was I on some game show that I just didn’t know about yet? Who was this woman really? As beautiful as she was, I wasn’t about to follow some stranger into the night, especially after she’d just broken into my apartment.

Listen, I don’t have time to go into a lot of details right now. I just need you to come with me. She was getting more agitated by the second, and kept glancing anxiously at the window. I promise I’ll explain later. Don’t you trust me?

No! No, I do not! I don’t even know you!

She rolled her eyes and began to pace around the room, her long black coat flowing out around her. Why did she look so cool doing even the most mundane things?

Fine! I guess we’re doing this here. According to slightly questionable sources, she mumbled, you have some rather unique gifts, Carmichael. I need you to come with me. If you don’t, others will find you, and I promise they are not nearly as nice as I am.

Hang on. You broke into my apartment—and made fun of my stuff! How is that nice?

Oh, come on! We don’t have time for this!

And what did you mean by ‘unique gifts?’

Suddenly, there was a loud thud outside, as if something heavy had dropped onto the fire escape below. We looked at each other for a second before she flew to the window.

Great! This was supposed to be easy. Thomas, you liar! Come on, we need to go—now! She grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards the door. But I wasn’t leaving until I got some kind of explanation. Before I could say a word, there was a loud crash and glass came flying across the room. She swiftly pulled me behind the couch and motioned me to stay quiet. An eerie stillness fell over us, and then I heard it—a bloodcurdling cry from hell, like the screech of metal on metal mixed with some guttural howl. It ripped into me, ransacking my mind, dredging up every fear I’d ever known.

I peeked around the couch and instantly regretted it. A pack of gargoyle-like creatures were frantically clawing through the broken window, pushing and shoving each other, oblivious to the cuts they were receiving. As they invaded the apartment, they sank their blood-soaked talons into the floor. Their skeletal bodies were covered in an armor of black scales, and several had charred patches on their backs, revealing angry red skin beneath. Others were crusted with thick coats of what looked like dried blood. As one drew closer, it opened its nearly transparent wings; black veins branched out across the skin like an intricate web.

Whatever these things were, I knew I had to get away from them. As I edged toward the door, my foot crunched on a piece of glass. The creatures’ heads snapped toward me in unison. Their hellish red eyes seared into me like hot pokers. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to run but I couldn’t move, as if I was cemented to the floor.

Don’t look in their eyes! she shouted,