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

by Nicole Zoltack

  “Not all magic is terrible.”

  “Yes, I gather that, but I want to use magic to kill.”

  “To kill evil creatures, remember?”

  I sigh. “I know, but I can see why the dragon hid this. If this falls into the wrong hands, it could be terrible. It could cause wars, destroy countries, ruin the entire Earth!”

  “I won’t let you. You don’t have to worry. You won’t get a fat head.”

  I lift an eyebrow.

  “Do you honestly think you’ll abuse magic?”

  “Who knows?” I shrug and bite my lower lip. “I mean, look what I did in the name of training. I wanted to learn all I could to take out as many paranormal creatures as I could. That’s not exactly something a normal person would do.”

  “You’re a product of nature. A lot of terrible things happened to you. It changed you. Anyone would’ve been changed by all of that.”

  “Yes, but the extreme measures I took…”

  “Do you want to stop now?”

  “When I’m on their radar? No. It’s too late now.”

  “If you could walk away and disappear, right now, and never have to see or hear from a cainian again, would you want to?”

  I consider his words and slowly shake my head. “This isn’t just about my revenge. Not anymore. The cainians have caused too much destruction and devastation throughout their existence. They must be stopped, and I’m in possession of the only weapon capable of killing them.”

  "Well, then. How about you figure out how to use that scepter?"

  “I would if I—” I jump to the side to avoid his arcane blast. “What in the world?”

  “You were supposed to see what the scepter can do.”

  “I don’t want it hit by your magic!”

  “Why not? We need to see what it can handle.”

  “Fine. A little warning would’ve been nice.”

  “I thought you could take on anything.”

  “You didn’t hit me, did you? Reflexes of…”

  Another arcane blast is heading my way. I brace myself, forcing myself to repress my instinct to dive out of the way. Pretending I have nerves of steel, I hold out the scepter.

  The arcane blast is sucked into the citrine, and the gemstone glows a strange brown color. I guess that makes sense. The yellow of the stone and the purple of the arcane magic. Yellow and purple make brown.

  “Now, expel the arcane energy,” Darius says.

  “Sure,” I say, even though I have no idea how to. Plus, I need a target.

  Ah. What better target than the one who can take it like a man?

  I point the tip of the scepter at Darius and…

  Nothing happens.

  Frowning, I jiggle the scepter and then flat out hit the side of it against my hand.

  “Why won’t this thing work?” I grumble.

  And then, the scepter grows even warmer in my hand. I hold it with both hands as the scepter shakes, and then a blast of something shoots out of the scepter.

  Darius ducks. I hadn’t been aiming at him anymore, but the radius of the blast is so huge that he’s in the line of fire anyhow.

  And the blast? It drills a hole through the shelving, the jars, the potions, the wall itself.

  “Wow,” I say.

  “Wow is right,” Darius says. “So it can absorb magic and amplify it, but does it have to be charged first, or does it have its own magic?”

  For an hour, I try to use the scepter’s own magic, but I can’t. I just can’t. The next hour, Darius gives me his magic, and I can control that somewhat, even holding back some in reserve so I don’t waste all of it at once.

  “What kind of magic is the blast?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure. It’s nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

  “I know you said it’s amplifying the magic, but is it still arcane magic?”

  “I don’t—”

  I use the last little bit of magic in the scepter and send it streaking straight for Darius. His eyes widen, and he holds out his hands in preparation to absorb the magic, but at the last moment, he dives to the ground and rolls to the side.

  “No,” he says, coughing and sputtering as he stands. “That is not arcane magic.”

  I inhale deeply. “Let’s take a breather and look around for some grub.”

  I’m not sure if Morgana would appreciate us wrecking her house and eating her food, but I don’t know if she’s sleeping or dead. If she’s not dead, we will find a way to make this up to her. I have a feeling she won't mind, though, considering she wants me to take out the cainians, and part of that is mastering the scepter she made.

  We eat grilled ham-and-cheese sandwiches. I finish my two first, and I head outside with the scepter. The sunlight reflects prettily off the gemstones, but it's not as if sunlight has magic. Or maybe it does. Maybe the fairies or elves or other kinds of nature-oriented creatures can tap into nature as the source of their magic.

  The first gemstone contained magic itself. Maybe none of these do.

  I just have to face facts. As much as I’ve been hoping that I can find a way to abandon Darius and leave him behind so I can face the cainians alone, considering I’m the only one with a weapon that can be used against them, I can’t. I need his magic to power the scepter. I need his help, and, most importantly, I need to keep him alive for his efforts.

  A few minutes later, Darius joins me. “Well?”

  “Let’s check out the rest of Morgana’s place. She might have a map or notes concerning where the cainians are. If there’s nothing there, then we can return to my place. After all, the cainian showed up there once. Maybe he’ll return.”

  “Maybe he won’t be alone.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you’re coming with me.” I try to smile at Darius.

  We search for hours and find nothing of importance. Darius suggests that we sleep some before we move onto the next phase, and as much as I want to argue, I can’t. Morgana has been working against the cainians for who knows how long. It certainly seems as if she had been safe here, so it’s reasonable to assume we will be too.

  When I wake, I feel only a mild sense of impending doom. Darius stirs without my having to wake him, and the fairy dust does its thing. We’re transported back to my place. I half-expect one to be lying in wait for us, but there’s no one there.

  Correction. There’s no cainian there.

  In my bathroom, in the tub, is a half-eaten woman.

  "The cainians are so romantic," Darius jokes. "Look at them, leaving you a present like that."

  “Oh, yes. I’m so very lucky,” I say dryly.

  Her face is completely bitten off, so I can’t recognize her if she had been someone I knew. I reach into her pockets and remove her wallet. How bizarre. The driver’s license is for an Amber Hashway, who is white, whereas the woman in my tub has—had—beautifully dark skin.

  “Why would there be a license for another woman in her pocket?” I ask, handing it to Darius.

  “I don’t know, but maybe we should check out her address.”

  California. Awesome. I’m going to run out of fairy dust soon at this rate.

  We hop there and knock on the door. It creaks open, almost as if a ghost opens it for us. My nose wrinkles. There’s a dead body here.

  Sure enough, we find Amber in her bed. One of her legs has been gnawed completely off.

  In her wallet is the license to a Greg Carroll who lives in Texas.

  On and on we give chase, the locations gradually turning away from bustling cities to smaller towns and then rural countrysides.

  "This is some kind of twisted, deadly chase," Darius grumbles after we make five more jumps. “How disturbing are they to use bodies as clues.”

  "All I know is that the chase better end soon," I say." I glance around. "Hmm. The fairy dust has never led us astray before, but there’s no house here.”

  We’re standing on a massive hill. Darius bends down, brushes the dirt aside, and lifts a small piece of wood
with the correct house number on it.

  “We’re where we’re supposed to be,” he says.

  “But there’s no…” I spin around. “Body…”

  Except five forms are marching toward us.

  Five forms that I have no doubt belong to a particular kind of paranormal creature.

  Five cainians.

  I grip the scepter that Darius charged before we made our first jump.

  “Do you think we’re ready?” I ask him.

  “It’s a little late for that question, don’t you think?”

  “That’s not the kind of response I would consider helpful.”

  “Are we ready for one? Maybe two? Yes. Five? Not so much.”

  “That’s still not the kind of response I would consider helpful.”

  “Do you want me to lie to you?”

  “I guess not. Get behind me, Darius. It’s time to end them.”

  “End them or end us,” he mutters.

  “You really do need to work on being more of an optimist,” I snap.

  Hope. Love. Anger. Hatred. I’m not sure what will help the most against these monsters, but I have a thousand different reasons to kill them, and I’m going to do my best to succeed.

  Chapter 25

  The scepter burns in my hands. It’s never done that before, but it’s already charged. Instead of expelling some of the magic, I wait for the cainians to move in closer and then even have my arms dangle by my sides.

  “Howdy,” I drawl.

  Darius winces. “You’re going to talk to them?” he mutters under his breath.

  “Why not?”

  “It didn’t help with the arcane dragon. It’s sure as hell not going to work here.”

  “It’s called a stalling tactic.”

  “Why do we want to stall?”

  “So you can settle your nerves.”

  “Nerves! My nerves! Aren’t you—”

  “Can it, Darius,” I say bitterly and shoot him a glare.

  Recognition dawns in his eyes, and he swallows hard.

  They don’t just feed on flesh. They feed on fear too, and yes, I’m terrified. Talking, rambling most likely, sometimes helps, and I need every little bit of help as possible.

  “What’s the weather like up there?” I joke as the cainians halt about five feet in front of us. They’re tall, maybe seven feet. I’m not the shortest woman in the world. I’m five-foot-six, and I have to tilt my head back to see all of them.

  None of them smile. Their faces have some kind of otherworldly quality to then, but I can’t quite put my finger on what about their appearances looks off.

  “None of you is the one I spoke with before,” I say sadly.

  I narrow my eyes. I’m sure that was done on purpose. The one I most want to kill isn’t here.

  “He did not kill your brother and his wife,” the one in the center says.

  The one on his right smirks, flashing his terribly wicked teeth. "But he may have killed someone else, you know."

  “Someones else,” another says with a laugh.

  My stomach twists terribly. What are they talking about? They can’t mean my parents. A drunk driver hit a pothole that had him veering into our lane and hitting our car. A freak bad luck accident.

  “The thing with drunk people,” the centermost one says casually, “is that they tend to not drink alone. Sometimes, certain people will buy drink after drink after drink.”

  “And convince the barkeep not to take the keys,” another offers.

  My mind races. They killed Mason and Gracie. I knew that already, but discovering they had a role in the deaths of my parents is daunting. Unforgivable. Paralyzing.

  “Still glad you wanted to talk to them first?” Darius mumbles.

  I glower at him. Sometimes, he really needs to learn that silence is golden, but then again, I guess I need to learn that lesson too.

  “You killed my brother, his wife, my parents… Anyone else?”

  “Kaliah Walton.”

  I gasp. “No… She can’t be.”

  They laugh as if they’re one, interconnected creature.

  “Some best friend she is.”

  “Didn’t even know her friend was dead, let alone murdered.”

  “So very self-centered. Maybe we should let her live longer. She is creating a fair amount of chaos in the world as it is.”

  “Chaos is almost as good as fear.” This one licks his lips, his tongue a deep violet color.

  I shudder. “Kaliah had been my best friend growing up. We lost touch after my parents died. I… I thought about reconnecting a hundred times but never did. Too busy. Afraid we wouldn’t have anything to talk about. I could come up with a hundred different excuses every time, and now…”

  “Now it’s too late.” The centermost cainian steps forward.

  They want me to be afraid, to be scared.

  But I'm not. They've killed so many people I love and adore.

  I’m furious. Livid. Outraged.

  “Why?” I demand. “Why have you targeted people I know?”

  “Your parents needed to die so that you would come to be under your brother’s care. You needed to be under your brother’s care so he could start your training, but he could only take you so far. You needed his death to push you to become who you are today.”

  “And Kaliah?” I spit out.

  "She may have been able to draw you out of this world of darkness. Come, embrace the night. Kill Darius, and you will live."

  A chill runs down my spine. Anything they want me to do, I most certainly don’t want to do. Of course that’s not the only reason not to kill Darius.

  But they’re also not the only ones to want me to kill him.

  “Morena Moriarty,” I mumble.

  The witch who hired me to kill Darius.

  The same witch who made the potion that killed Angie but had been intended for me.

  Had the witch acted of her own accord, or had the cainians wanted me dead at some point?

  One of the cainians hisses. “She had been too big for her britches.”

  “You did us a favor by killing her.”

  “We do not appreciate those who do not obey.”

  “Obey, huh?” I ask. “I don’t like rules, in case you’ve forgotten. Being a rebel is kinda my thing.”

  I nod to Darius, who blasts the scepter even though it’s already charged. The arcane energy bounces off the gemstones and shoots out five beams straight for the cainians, but they’re scattering about. Three turn into their wolf-tiger forms, while the other stalk toward me.

  “Give me the scepter,” one says.

  “Sure. A blast from it, that is.” I aim for him, but the cainian moves far too swiftly, heading straight for Darius.

  Even though I know it won’t do any good, I grab my pistol and shot the one gunning down Darius and almost strike the second “human” cainian. He avoids the blow, growls, and races toward me.

  They aren’t playing this time.

  Darius is using his arcane magic against the one charging him, but his magic isn’t slowing down the cainian any. If only he could fly or use some other kind of magic to protect himself!

  But then something magical happens. Well, magical isn't accurate in terms of pure magic, but it's wonderful regardless.

  Just as the “human” cainian jumps to tackle Darius, one of the hybrids leaps into the air too. They knock each other out of the way of Darius, and they start to fight one another.

  All siblings fight.

  I smirk and then glare at Darius. “Behind me,” I call.

  As soon as he gets into position, I lift the scepter for him to give it another zap.

  “If we’re going to survive, we have to stick together,” I hiss.

  “Yeah, I don’t think—”

  Whatever else he says I don’t hear because I have to blast back the cainians. The hybrids are doing their best to close in. Why do they want Darius dead? Because he’s charging the scepter that can kill them if I ever
land a direct shot? Is arcane magic the only kind of magic that can power the scepter? If that’s the case, then is Mirella in danger? She’s the only other arcane magic user that I know about.

  “Six o’clock,” Darius murmurs.

  I don’t want to turn my back on the two advancing toward us, but there is one unaccounted for. The two are still fighting each other, thankfully, but the other one is sneaking so close that he’s a leap away from Darius.

  I don’t have time to do more than step around Darius and hold up the scepter. I can’t draw out the magic in time, and the tip of the citrine touches the cainian.

  And slices down his chest.

  Black blood oozes from the wound. The cainian hisses and draws back. The wound is slowly healing before my eyes, but the cainian jerks and moans.

  He’s in pain. Serious pain. I bet that’s not something he feels every day.

  Even better, I now know I can use the scepter as a spear.

  I grin and twirl the scepter like a baton. “Come at me, boys. I’m ready.”

  All of them take on that challenge. Even the two stop their fight and head our way. I jab one in the stomach, bash one in the nose, and plunk the scepter down on the snout of another. On and on, I beat them, but all I’m doing is wearing myself out and irritating them. They aren’t going to die from these small blows. If anything, the sweat I’m working up is going to endanger me and, by default, Darius too.

  “Got any ideas?” I murmur to Darius.

  “We could flee and hope only one or two follows.”

  The way I tried to go after that werewolf pack. My stomach churns. Yes, the wolves had been terrible, under the influence of an evil not unlike the cainians, but to think that I wiped out an entire pack just as the cainians did leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

  “What if more show up?” I hiss.

  “Then we fight,” Darius says grimly.

  I swallow hard. Yes, this I what I’ve wanted for so long, but I also never imagined I would have to face so many all at once or that I would have to protect someone who I desperately need here in order to face them.

  The paw of a cainian slams me aside. I fall hard to the ground, my shoulder crushed, but I’m on my knees and blasting magic right in front of Darius to keep them at bay.

  Darius adds his own arcane blast to the mix, and the combined magics explode. I’m flown back, and when the dust clears, there’s a crater where the magic had been.