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

by Nicole Zoltack

  “But they kill people.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Vampires do it because they need blood for sustenance,” Cinnamoris says slowly.

  “Yes, but some vampires are in control enough that they do not kill the one they drink from.”

  “Indeed. My point is that some kill because of a necessity, although yes, you are right. Vampires do not have to kill. Dryads are about life and growth and nature, and we do not wander far from our forest. In actuality, we physically cannot be removed from our tree for a significant amount of time."

  “What will happen if you are forced to?”

  “If we were kidnapped and held against our will?” she asks faintly. “We would die, as would our tree.”

  I hesitate. “I don’t know if all of those trees recovered… Did any of the dryads…”

  “None of those trees were directly tethered to a dryad’s life source.”

  “Oh, good.” I tilt my head. “Could I learn how to tell by looking at a tree if it belongs to a dryad?”

  “Perhaps. I would imagine shifters and those with a heightened sense of smell could more easily distinguish between trees and a dryad’s than a human, but there may be other signs. For me, it is instinctual.” Cinnamoris shrugs.

  “Was your source really a tree?” I ask, amazed at the notion.

  She laughs. “No. Or perhaps I should say not exactly. I asked the eldest dryad I know. He has merged with his tree now, but he is still capable of speech yet, although in a limited capacity. Not everyone can understand him, but I could very much so experience his fear.”

  “He fears the cainians?” I ask, my chest growing tight.

  “Indeed, and he believes all living creatures should.”

  I swallow hard. This isn’t what I wanted to hear, but I’m honestly not surprised. I already thought from their name that they were descendants of the first murderer of the world. To learn that we should all fear them isn’t a shock.

  “Thank you,” I tell the dryad.

  She eyes me curiously. “For what you did, we are willing to give you what you want, so we will continue to see if we can learn more about them. It is not my business to ask why you seek this information or to question why you want it, but, Rebel, if you seek to go after them, I would advise against it.”

  “I appreciate your concern.”

  And I do, but I’ve come too far. I already fulfilled my quest to at least learn what kind of paranormal creature killed my brother and his wife. Now, I need to have my revenge. Then, and only then, can I move on.

  And I will move on. My revenge will be exacted, hopefully someday soon.

  Chapter 9

  Cinnamoris leaves, and Vinca claims her seat.

  “Where is that friend of yours?” she asks.

  “Which one?”

  “The hot witch.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re taken.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes.”

  “I don’t know where Darius is.”

  “I do.” The fairy smiles widely.

  Sighing, I give her a look. “Then why did you ask me where he is?”

  Vinca giggles. “You should go talk to him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can sense things.”

  “You can sense things,” I repeat dryly. “That is so descriptive.”

  She laughs loudly. “Oh, Rebel, I know how much he likes you.”

  I can feel my cheeks turn red. “I don’t—”

  “I know. You’re the big, bad Rebel, the only human who is willing to tackle any and every paranormal creature you are paid to. That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, and you know you aren’t normal so no normal human would do. Why not give Darius a chance?”

  “You really should mind your own wings,” I murmur.

  “I have to mind yours because you have none.” She giggles.

  “Does that make any sense?”

  “No, but neither does your ignoring Darius.”

  I casually glance around and spy Darius. He’s not alone. A fairy sits across from him. His back is to me, but I can see her face clearly, and she appears mesmerized by Darius and whatever he’s saying.

  “He looks busy.”

  “Oh, don’t mind Hayley. She’s way too old for him.”

  I furrow my brow. “She doesn’t look that old to me.”

  “Fine, she’s not old, and she used to try to break up Aeden and I so I can’t stand her, but she doesn’t deserve someone like Darius.”

  I cough a laugh. “So you just want to prevent her from landing someone.”

  “No. I want you to land your witch.”

  “He’s not my—”

  “He could be.”

  “Life isn’t about who you’re dating,” I protest.

  “No, but you also don’t have to go it alone,” she says softly, growing serious. “I know you don’t like to let people in, but we’re friends now, so you’re going to be stuck with me giving you the old shove off the branch so you can fly moment.”

  “I’m not a baby bird,” I say crossly.

  “Only you kinda are. Compared to the rest of us.” She spreads out her hand to encompass the room filled with various paranormal beings.

  I sigh and then harrumph when she beams and flies off her seat.

  “I’m just leaving,” she chirps, and I don’t have to turn around to know she’s talking to Darius.

  Sure enough, the handsome witch claims her seat. “My ears were burning,” he says.

  “Then maybe you need to see a doctor.”

  “Hmmm.” He catches a bartender’s attention and mouths his order.

  “You know…” I drum my finger on the counter. “You owe me a dagger.”

  “I know I do. I’m working—”

  “Do you know of a witch who can make a weapon capable of killing a cainian?” I ask in a rush.

  He purses his lips. “You know, a guy could develop a complex thinking that you just want to use him.”

  “You owe me—”

  “I know, and you’ll get one. I’m not reneging on that.”

  “It’s just…” I wait for him to explain more, but he doesn’t. “I wonder how many cainians are alive. So few people seem to know about them so maybe only a few are alive. Or maybe they only come out of hibernation to kill every X number of years. It doesn’t matter. I’ll find one and then another and all of them. It doesn’t matter how long it takes, but I will kill them all.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?” he asks.

  “It’s the only way to make certain that I kill the one who killed Mason and Gracie. It’s not as if one is going to jump out and announce, ‘It was me!’”

  “I guess not, but do you really think you’ll be able to do that?”

  I narrow my eyes but then try to calm down. “Are you volunteering to help?” I ask lightly.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you or anyone or any team for that matter to go up against them. It can’t be easy to kill them.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Your asking for a weapon capable of killing one maybe?”

  I shrug and give him a lopsided smile. “What can I say? Yes, it won’t be easy, but I have to do this.”

  “You don’t.”

  “I do. I really do. You don’t understand, but I bet Mirella does. Her parents.”

  “Yes, and she almost died, Rebel, and she’s one of the most powerful witches in the world.”

  “So it comes down to my being a human, is that it?”

  “A human versus extremely dangerous paranormal beings. I wonder who will come out on top?”

  “I’ve taken out—”

  “I don’t care if you have killed other creatures before. I’ve been looking around online about them.”

  I narrow my eyes. “How did you even know I—Mirella, she told you, didn’t she?”

  “She did.”

  I go to take a swallow o
f my drink, but it’s empty. The bartender brings Darius a drink and pauses, but I shake my head, and he walks away.

  “I haven’t had much time to poke around on the supernatural internet,” I admit. “What did you learn that has you so freaked out?”

  “I’m not freaked out. I’m cautious. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want you to die either.”

  “How romantic.”

  “Rebel, this isn’t a joke.”

  “I know. I’m completely serious about wanting to do this, and if you found something online, I’ll be able to too.”

  "I'll tell you." He takes a long swallow. "They're strong and intelligent, and they only grow in power as they age, and they're all incredibly long-lived."

  “I learned all of this,” I say.

  “Do you know that they’re shifters?”

  “What can they shift into?” I ask uncomfortably.

  “They can shift into a massive wolf-tiger hybrid.”

  “A wolf-tiger hybrid? How does that even work? Wolves are canines, and a tiger is a feline!”

  “I don’t know, but I’m not going to dismiss eyewitness accounts.”

  “Eyewitness accounts?” I perk up. “Who saw them and where?”

  “None of the accounts are recent,” he says.

  “The most recent one was…”

  “Fifty years ago.”

  Ouch.

  But I refuse to give up. “Tell me where they were spotted. Maybe I can plot them out and try to triangulate where they live.”

  "Considering there have been reports of them killing on every continent, I don't think you will be able to find a single central location for them."

  “Of course not. Even Antarctica?”

  “Yes, even there. No permanent residences didn’t stop them from killing there.”

  “Wow,” I mumble.

  He takes a swallow and then pushes his drink toward me. I oblige. Mint julep. I’m not a huge fan of mint, but I do need something to take this edge off.

  A sudden thought comes to me. “Hey, is Cain still alive? If not, how did he die?”

  “Cain killed his brother Abel by striking him with a rock.”

  “Yes, and…”

  “And rocks killed Cain.”

  I furrow my brow, confused. “Rocks killed him? Was he stoned to death?”

  “No. Cain was cursed and also marked. Those who saw him recognized him immediately, and all those who tried to harm him would face backlash seven times worse.”

  “What? Why?”

  “To prevent anyone from killing him.”

  "And that was done, why?"

  “So there wouldn’t be another murder.” Darius picks up his drink but not before I spy his smirk.

  “Are you lying to me?” I ask suspiciously.

  “Never.” He puts his drink back down. “Cain’s house collapsed onto him during a storm.”

  “And his house was made from rocks,” I murmur. “Have any of the cainians died?”

  “I would think so.”

  “Have any been killed?”

  “You’re wondering if you’ll be cursed if you do.”

  “Can you blame me?” I ask.

  Darius must notice I’m eyeing his drink because he pushes it toward me again. “Cain became a nomad after he killed his brother. It’s said that he went insane. Some believe that he lost his soul when he killed Abel.”

  “It’s crazy to think that a crushed building killed Cain,” I say. I hold his cup in both hands but don’t drink. The cup freezes my hands, but I think the chill traveling down my spine is for another reason. “Do you think Cain wasn’t a paranormal creature?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe Cain did something to them to turn them into paranormal creatures. I don’t know. He had been a farmer before he killed Abel, but afterward, the soil would produce no fruit from his labor.”

  “So he had no vegetables? No fruits?” I ask.

  “Not unless his sons and daughters were able to till the soil.”

  My eyes widen. For whatever reason, I assumed the cainians were all male, but that isn’t necessarily the case. And his sons and daughters might all be dead. The cainians living now could be second, third, or even more generations removed from Cain. There’s no way for me to know. Long living doesn’t explain just how long they’ve been living for.

  “He was a nomad who had to hunt to survive,” I murmur. “They had to follow the animals. To survive. What if, after their father died, what if they couldn’t find animals to hunt?”

  “You think they ate him?” Darius sounds disgusted.

  My stomach churns as I shrug. “I have no idea, but maybe they were cursed too. Who is doing the cursing, though?”

  “God. Nature. Who knows?” He hesitates. “Do you believe in God?”

  “I do. As much as I don’t always like him considering what I’ve lived through, what I’ve seen… I mean, are vampires and evil paranormal creatures made in his image too? I just don’t understand how he can allow so much evil in the world.”

  “Evil that you help fight,” he says.

  “A coincidence,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m a mercenary.”

  “So you say.”

  “I am!”

  “You care too much.”

  “I’m a lot of things, Darius, but I’m not a martyr. Don’t make me out to be one.”

  “You do realize what would happen if you were to kill all of the cainians?”

  I say nothing.

  “The world would be a much better and safer place.”

  “Isn’t that the job of your precious HEX U?” I demand. “The paranormal executioners should’ve hunted down all of the cainians long before now.”

  “Maybe there’s a reason why they haven’t.”

  “The cainians can be killed,” I say stubbornly. “No one can live forever.”

  “Especially not a human,” Darius murmurs.

  “Back to that again?” I sigh wearily. “Don’t worry about the weapon you owe me. I’ll find a way to kill them.”

  “Rebel—”

  “You aren’t going to change my mind.”

  “Just kill one,” he suggests.

  “But it might not—”

  “The murderer might be dead already,” he points out.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “No? How can you be so sure?”

  “I just know he’s alive.”

  His eyebrows raise. “He? Are you a psychic now?”

  “Don’t mock.”

  “I’m not mocking.”

  "Fine. You aren't mocking, but you are discouraging. I get it. You don't want me to die, but I have to do this, and I will do this." I drain the rest of his drink and reach for my wallet.

  “I got it,” he says.

  “I don’t need your permission.”

  “I know you don’t.”

  “I also don’t need your acceptance.”

  “Is it really that terrible of me to want you to live until you die of old age?”

  “Darius, the chances of my dying of old age are slim to none even if I don’t go after the cainians. Let’s be realistic.”

  “Realism is underrated.”

  “What do you prefer?” I ask.

  He reaches over and brushes my hair back from my face. My ear tingles where his fingers brush against it to tuck my strands back.

  “I prefer…” His eyes close.

  Darius isn’t going to kiss me, is he?

  Chapter 10

  My stool scrapes against the floor as I stand and move back away from him. “I—”

  “Rebel,” a strangely gravelly voice says from beside me.

  Darius opens his eyes. His lips hadn’t been pursed so maybe I completely read the whole exchange wrong. I feel so embarrassed that I turn away from the witch to look at the newcomer.

  And jump, startled.

  He's a zombie. A zombie who's wearing clothes. Sweatpants and a sweatshirt, but there's no mistaking the stench of decay even though he's d
oused himself with cologne. His skin mostly covers his face, but his one ear is gone, and so is the tip of his nose. He's a pale green and gray color.

  I try to smile and recover from my shock at learning that zombies can talk. I’ve never come across one before.

  “Yes?” I ask.

  “May I talk to you?”

  I blink even more. A zombie with manners? What is the world coming to?

  I’m so shocked about the zombie’s manners that I almost forget my own. “If you’ll excuse me, Darius.”

  The witch smirks, his gray eyes twinkling. Does he know how flustered I am? I hate that he affects me. It’s not that I wanted him to kiss me. Of course not. It’s just… I don’t even know.

  The zombie leads me to the back corner of the bar. Several eye us. Maybe zombies aren’t out and about often.

  “I need your help,” the zombie says.

  I nod. “That’s usually why people track me down. What do you need?”

  “I need you to find someone.”

  “Who?”

  “Amber Pensive.”

  “And she is…”

  “She’s a kitsune.”

  Oh, a specific kind of fox shifters! I only met one before, and he had been a delight. There’s something very fun about them, or at least the one I met.

  I’ve become more open to the idea of different creatures being in relationships with others not of their kind, but a zombie and a kitsune?

  “May I ask why you need to find her?”

  “I thought you didn’t ask any questions.”

  “I think it’s important for safety reasons.”

  “Safety reasons?” Lines appeared on his forehead, and I only realize just now that he doesn’t have any eyebrows. He doesn’t have a lot of hair on his head, but I’m not sure if that’s because he’s balding or what. I have no way to even begin to guess his age.

  “For myself. I have a right to know if she will not come willingly. And what is your name?”

  His face looks stricken. “You aren’t going to tell her my name, are you?”

  “Why do you want me to not tell her?” I ask, feeling very suspicious but hiding my emotions.

  “Amber might not want to come if you tell her my name.”

  “And why is that?”

  He grimaces. “I’ll find someone else to help me.”