Hunter's Revenge: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Rebel, Supernatural Bounty Hunter Book 2)

by Nicole Zoltack

  Wren throws back her head and laughs. Her hair is brown, short, and feathered. Combined with her name and hooked nose, she does resemble a bird.

  “Your confidence is going to get you killed.”

  “If you wanted me dead, I would be dead already.”

  “Unless I have a reason to keep you alive.”

  “Do you?” I ask.

  “Possibly.” She crooks her finger. “Come along. I have someone I want you to meet.”

  I comply, but I’m aware of her every move. Her arms dangle by her side, and she doesn’t seem ready to conjure any magic, but she has to know I broke in. She has to be wondering why I’m here and what I’m after. This could very well be a trap.

  The next floor has rooms just like the floor above it, but we head down another flight to land on the main floor of the nightclub. There are no lamps or light sources that I can see, but it’s as bright as if the sun were in the room. The music is loud and should probably hurt my ears, but it doesn’t. Most of the witches are talking or dancing. There’s a bar that’s crowded without any places to sit. All in all, it doesn’t seem to be different from a typical nightclub.

  Wren leads me over to a male witch. He wore a robe and was so very intimidating that I didn’t want to look him in his too-light-to-be-real blue eyes, but I do, staring him down. First impressions are everything.

  “This is Rebel,” Wren says as if we’re the best of friends. “Rebel, this is Tobias.”

  I nod.

  Tobias gives me the once-over. “She really is human.”

  “Yet she’s in here.”

  “Hmmm.” He nods slowly. “She doesn’t have any talismans either.”

  “You doubt my skill. Cute.” I smirk.

  Just then, I notice Darius. Five women are all talking to him, laughing. One is draped over him, and I scowl.

  Wren follows my gaze. “Your friend seems very much at home here.”

  “We aren’t friends,” I say automatically.

  “Yet he came with you.”

  There’s no point in denying it. “We did.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s no need to discuss that now.” I eye Tobias. “What do you want from me?”

  “Nothing now,” he murmurs, “but perhaps in the future…”

  “Why would you need my services?”

  “Sometimes, it is better to not be tied to certain… activities.”

  “Of course.”

  Those activities tend to be kidnapping or murder. He’s such a typical client nowadays, and for whatever reason, I just feel tired. I don’t want to fulfill the wishes of others. I want to have my revenge. After that… I don’t know what I’ll do next.

  Wren nods to Tobias and points to the bar area. Instantly, two drinks appear in her hands. She hands one to me.

  “Magic does have its perks.” She takes a sip. “I would hate to be a human and be so… weak.”

  I say nothing, not at all offended by her slight.

  A slow grin spreads across her face. “I do like you,” she murmurs. “You have a way of carrying yourself that does not lie. You may be a human, but you have tried to make yourself stronger or at least smarter.”

  “Knowledge is power is a saying I live by.”

  “Indeed.” She takes another sip. “You can drink. It isn’t poison.”

  “The last drink I was given that I didn’t know what it was affected me a little too strongly for my liking.”

  “It’s a simple strawberry martini. Nothing magical about it.”

  I eye her, not certain if I can trust her, but I take a sip. She’s right. I do love martinis, but I’ve never had a strawberry one before.

  “Do you like it?” she asks.

  “I do.”

  Darius finally comes over. He barely looks at me. “I heard you’re the owner.”

  “I am.” Wren glances from Darius to me. “I could use someone of your skills.”

  “I’m not available on retainer.”

  “Why not? You would be set for life if you would. Think how high your income could be. You would want for nothing.”

  “I appreciate that I have the option to accept or decline a job. To be forced to do someone else’s bidding at the drop of a hat? No thank you.”

  “You aren’t a djinn,” she murmurs.

  I wince, thinking about Amad. “Certainly not.”

  “Let’s get to it, then? Why are you here?”

  “Penkip sent me to retrieve a magical artifact.”

  Wren rolls her eyes and sighs heavily. She drains her martini and hands Darius the glass, which amuses me greatly.

  “I suppose he told you that I stole it.”

  “Yes.”

  “I gave it to him, but after he cheated on me, he didn’t deserve it anymore.”

  I glance at Darius, who’s giving me a look. He clearly doesn’t understand why I’m being so forthcoming, but sometimes, that works in my favor. People appreciate honesty.

  Wren stares me down. “You would take me on with an entire coven of witches here? You and one singular witch?”

  “The plan was to steal it,” I inform her.

  “Without knowing where it is. Are you often so…”

  “Impulsive?” I grin. “You paranormal types tend to be too set in your ways and expect attacks only from others of your kind. I come at you from a different perspective, and that sometimes helps me.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “If you want me to be more likely to do what you want…” I spread my hands apart.

  Her eyes narrow. “Do you mean to say that you won’t be willing to if I don’t?”

  “I’m not saying that, but if I were, I might be pressed to come back and try again.”

  “Is that so? Just what is that gnome paying you?” She holds up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. I will give it to you willingly.”

  “In exchange for…” I’m not a fool. I know no one gives something for nothing.

  "Sometime in the future, Tobias or I might reach out to you. I would appreciate it if you would strongly consider his or my job."

  Consider, in her case, surely means accept but not for me. As long as the request is reasonable, I really will consider it.

  “Of course I will strongly consider it.” I smile.

  “Hmmm.” Wren nods and holds up her closed hand. She slowly opens her fist to reveal a black stone. Red lines mark it. The stone on her necklace isn’t the same one that Penkip wants.

  “Thank you.” I reach for it.

  She pulls her hand back before I can take it. “Strongly consider.”

  “That is what I said.”

  Wren smiles and hands me the stone. "You two don't need to leave immediately, do you? Drinks on the house." She snaps her fingers, and two martinis appear in her hands.

  I smirk as she hands Darius one after giving me one. “You like girlie drinks?”

  He winks. “I like free drinks.”

  Shaking my head, I laugh. “You just like that this job was so easy, and you hardly had to do anything.”

  “Hey, it was my idea to try the roof,” he protests.

  Darius and I continue to tease each other, and it’s only after we’ve finished our drinks that I realize Wren walked away at some point. The music is fun, a song I’ve never heard before, and I’ve been thinking about dancing, but I don’t. I don’t think I can quite let my guard down that much. Still, I’m happy. I’ll worry and fret over what the witches might want from me, but for now, I’m smiling. Laughing. Teasing. Maybe even flirting.

  Oh, boy. I might be in trouble, maybe.

  Chapter 7

  The smell of wood burning comes to me as soon as I close my car door. My car door. Yes, I’ve gotten it back. It really would be nice to have a car last for a couple of months instead of days. And tires, too.

  I inhale deeply. Wood burning has always been one scent that I love, but for a dryad, it equals death. Their trees are their everything, their homes, their identity… I wouldn’t be surpr
ised if they can even transform into a tree. Maybe that’s what they do when they die. I don’t know everything yet, and the gaps in my knowledge frustrate me, but I’m not the kind to pry. No one would like to be asked a gazillion questions about themselves. I really do need a handbook.

  Unbidden, my thoughts return to the previous night, at the nightclub with Darius. He told me he would tell me everything I wanted to know about anything, and it honestly freaked me out because I knew he wanted me to learn more about him. Darius’s willingness to be an open book is what caused the night to end. He didn’t apologize, and he didn’t back down, but he didn’t push the issue either. I respect that. I do. I might even respect him, but it’s still unnerving to open myself up to someone. We can be friends, sure. I have no issue with that, but anything more than that? No. No way. Not now. Not later.

  Er, maybe later.

  I shove Darius from my mind entirely. I need to focus.

  I rub my hands. The gloves I’m wearing are new ones. My entire outfit has been coated with a potion a witch assures me makes me nonflammable. My gloves are nonflammable as well. At least, they better be considering the price I paid.

  As soon as I enter the forest, I can sense eyes on me. The dryads. They might not appreciate my leather outfit. Whoops. I hadn’t even thought about that. Too late now. I’m here, and from the smell of things, maybe I should’ve come here before heading to the nightclub.

  The smoke is coming from the northern edge of the forest, and I head there now. The farther north I go, the less I feel eyes on me. The dryads are all to the south. Their home is being destroyed.

  Abruptly, Cinnamoris stands before me. She no longer looks like a sleek, elegant woman. Her eyes are sunken in, her skin almost gray, and she looks ready to collapse at any moment.

  “You’re dying,” I blurt out.

  “We all are. We have been trying to fight them back, but…”

  “That’s why you reached out to me.”

  She nods.

  “No one else would… Witches who have ice or water… A selkie or merfolk or… no one?”

  “We stick to ourselves,” she says. “We do not wish to be beholden to anyone.”

  “Not me either. I don’t need anything. If you’ll excuse me…”

  There’s not a moment to lose.

  I only take a few more steps before I realize something else. The birds chirping, the rustling underfoot, the bunnies hopping, the frogs croaking… all of it is gone. There's silence all around me except for the crackling of the fire.

  Slowly, I keep moving forward. The wind is picking up, and strands are coming loose from my bun. Hair is way too flammable for my liking.

  My eyes are peeled, looking for rotting logs. My research said salamanders like to hibernate in them, although they aren’t hibernating right now, so maybe my search is pointless, but I’m gonna look anyhow.

  I spy some, and a massive lizard slithers out. His marks resemble white stars, but his hide is a dark red almost brown color. The moment his eyes meet mine, he bursts into flames.

  Game on.

  With my dagger, I slice off the tip of his tongue and then stab him in the eye. He hisses and retreats, heading for the nearest tree. The ground beneath him is starting to smolder. My dagger flies through him and buries itself into the back of his head. He falls down flat. Unfortunately, he’s still burning, and I grab one of the gazillion water canteens I attached to my belt. I pour just enough to extinguish him and grab the handle of my dagger. The heat burns through my gloves, but I can handle holding it.

  Already, my presence is known to the salamanders. Five of them, no, a dozen, even more race toward me, and I alternate between throwing daggers and stars and shooting. There are so many of them that it’s almost impossible to miss, but still, more are coming. My word, this is worse than a mice infestation. Or cockroaches.

  I’m not sure how many I’ve killed, but I’ve had to retrieve daggers and throwing stars so many times that my gloves are starting to become worn. Seriously? They’re keeping the fire at bay, but if they get a hole, I’ll be screwed. Well, not screwed. Burned.

  And that’s the other issue. The entire place is starting to burn. I don’t have time to douse the flames, and some of the trees are beginning to smolder.

  What I would give for a little bit of rain!

  A salamander leaps onto me and bites me through my clothes. I yank him off me. His flame is intense, and I can feel the heat through my gloves to the point that I have to throw him to the side.

  On and on, they press, crawling on top of their fallen brothers and sisters, but I fight as if I'm part berserker, doing everything I can to kill them all and not get burned in the process. My gloves are holding up well enough, I suppose, but the heat is getting to me. I'm a ball of sweat, and the smoke is making my eyes water. It's hard to see, and although I have my mouth covered by a bandana, my lungs are beginning to burn.

  Finally, it looks like they’re all dead, but that’s only the beginning. Their fire is growing, and the water I’ve brought might not be enough to douse all of the flames. I do what I can, but it’s not enough.

  My heart sinks. Now what?

  I whirl around, thinking frantically, and breathe a little easier when I spy the dryads. They have buckets filled with water that they’re firemanning. Cinnamoris is the one closest to me. Instead of handing me the bucket, she tosses it onto the flames. She’s looking both stronger and weaker at the same time, but her determination is impressive.

  Rustling behind me has me turning back around. Is there one last salamander?

  There is.

  Only it’s not just a tiny lizard.

  It’s a massive one.

  As in all of the dead salamanders somehow merged together to become one gigantic fiery monster.

  What in the world?

  "Did you know they could do that?" I ask Cinnamoris, but I don't have to wait around to listen to her. The salamander behemoth is standing upright like some kind of burning Godzilla. It's as tall as the trees in the forest and makes me feel like an imp.

  I race forward and hack at its leg as I run by, but my dagger doesn’t make a dent. Its flames are so strong that they leap from its body onto the nearby trees, causing them to ignite instantly.

  Mumbling a curse, I race back to Cinnamoris and yank the bucket out of her hands. She doesn’t protest, and the decent progress she and the others have made is being undone. Instead of falling back, they’re continuing their efforts, and I won’t back down either.

  I spy the nearest tree that isn’t burning and start to climb. Some of the water falls out of the bucket, but I keep on going, moving as swiftly as I can while attempting to minimize spillage.

  Once I’m taller than the salamander, I sit on a branch.

  “Hey, Fire Monster! Over here!” I wave one of my arms above my head.

  The thing looks at me and ignores me, turning aside and touching another tree.

  My gun fires three shots into its back.

  The monster barely reacts except to give me a dirty look so I aim, lining up the short perfectly, and shoots it right through an eye.

  Now I’ve gone and ticked off the creature. With a deep roar, it races toward me. I wait and wait and wait and then dump the water onto its head. Hoping against hope that my clothes will save me, I jump. The water lands on the top of its head, extinguishing the flames there, and I shove my dagger as deep as it will go and fire shot after shot at the same spot. Maybe I should look into getting a sword or a spear.

  I’ve emptied my gun before I realize the fire’s quelling is spreading. The fire of the monster is dying, and so is the monster itself. It takes a step, almost loses its balance, and then falls. I fall too, of course, and I just barely manage to grab a branch before I can collide with the ground as the monster does. The ground trembles, and I end up falling the rest of the way to the ground anyhow, landing on some moss that makes the impact soft.

  Moss? There hadn’t been any near here moments ago!
/>
  I glance over at Cinnamoris. The dryad nods to me, and I know they can handle things from here.

  So long as the salamander is actually dead for good this time.

  My eyes closed. They’ll wake me if it comes back to life again, right? I’m beat and sore and tired.

  Chapter 8

  The next day, I collect my money from Penkip. Sesse isn’t here at Ye Ole Chestplate, and I don’t ask for her. Her love died because of me, and I don’t deserve anything from her.

  I nurse my drink. It’s one the dwarf Hudol made for me without any input from me except for a teeny tiny request—that it not impede my judgment. I did not like how out of control I felt after drinking the Mead Lover's Delight.

  Someone sits beside me at the bar. I look over to see Cinnamoris.

  “You fought the fire and won,” I say.

  “For the most part. The forest is regrowing, and we are extremely thankful for what you did.”

  “I’m just glad I could kill them and then whatever they became.”

  “You wished to learn about cainians.”

  “Yes. I figure you didn’t learn anything.”

  “Ah, do not be so sure.” She smiles and wags a finger at me. “The trees have long lives and long memories.”

  “The trees talk to you? Of course they do.”

  Cinnamoris laughs softly. She looks more vibrant than I ever saw her before. The forest is thriving, and she is too.

  “The cainians are descendants from Cain.”

  “The first murderer.” I swallow hard.

  “Yes. They are said to be highly intelligent and extremely cunning. They possess super strength and speed. It should come as no surprise that they cannot be killed by normal means.”

  “Of course not,” I say dryly. “Did you happen to find out where any are or what means can kill them?”

  “I’m afraid I do not know the answer to either of those, but I will try to learn more.”

  “Do you know what they look like? Are they, say, like vampires with fangs, or can they shapeshift or…”

  “That I do not know either. It seems that not many know of cainians. They tend to stick to themselves.”