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

by Nicole Zoltack

  “Let’s go—”

  Before I can finish my suggestion, a form materializes before our eyes.

  “Angie!” I exclaim.

  In the blink of an eye, Angie isn’t alone. Beside her stands Morgana.

  “You’re not dead!”

  Morgana eyes me and says nothing.

  "Um, we're sorry about the destruction of your house."

  Morgana waves her hand. “That was my second house.”

  “Your… second… house.” I’m amazed.

  “Yes. When you live as long as I have, you amass some wealth almost by default. My house is not the biggest concern right now.”

  “No, it should be their health,” Angie says.

  “Yes, yes. She looks a bit under the weather, doesn’t she?” Morgana asks.

  “What about Darius? He’s injured too!” I point out.

  “Yes, but, my dear…” Morgana nods toward my torso.

  I glance down, and the blood drains from my face. My side has been sliced deeply. My tight clothes are compressing the injury, which is most likely why I hadn't realized I had been wounded until now.

  Morgana holds out her hands. I think potions just appear there, or maybe she took them out of her pockets. I don’t know. I don’t even know if her dress has pockets.

  She doesn’t give us the potions to drink. Instead, she dumps the contents onto our heads. The liquid feels so very warm, or maybe I’m just cold. The liquid glows. It’s not even a real color. It oozes down me and just disappears when it should have dripped onto the grass.

  And just like that, my body is healed, and so are my clothes, all perfect and fresh without any rips or tears, no bloodstains, nothing.

  “Can I have some more of those?” I ask eagerly.

  “Alas, no,” Morgana says. “Now stop with your ceaseless questions. You have done well, killing four so far, but they only need six for the ritual.”

  “The ritual?” I repeat. Dread fills me, and I don’t even know what the ritual entails yet.

  “The cainians are going to sacrifice themselves,” Angie says.

  “I hadn’t the gift of foresight powerful enough to see what they intended all along,” Morgana says sadly.

  I glance between the two of them. Hating that they’re lording over me because I’m still sitting, I spring to my feet. “What do they intend?”

  "I followed one to their lair," Angie says. "That was terrifying, but I thought about Doyle, and I managed to avoid being seen, and I even overheard what they're planning."

  My mind is racing. What she did is the bravest thing anyone could’ve done. “Angie, why are you even involved in all of this?”

  Angie shrugs. “I figure I owe you my second life.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do,” she says patiently.

  Morgana clears her throat. “I prefer the witch. He’s much quieter.”

  “I’m processing,” Darius says. He’s standing too.

  “Processing what?” I snap, impatient beyond belief. “All we know is that they’re preparing a ritual and sacrificing themselves for it.”

  “Which means they’re doing something major,” Darius muses. He rubs his chin. “They’re so powerful already… They aren’t going to give all of their power to one of them, are they? To make a super-charged, damn-near-invincible one?”

  “No, they are not,” Angie says. “It’s worse. Much worse.”

  I begin to laugh. “They’re going to bring Cain back, aren’t they?”

  “Why are you joking? This is not a laughing matter!” Morgana sounds livid.

  “Oh, come on. Cain died because of a house falling on top of him. Give me a break.” I roll my eyes.

  “He did not die,” Morgana hisses.

  I blink furiously. “He’s been alive all this time?”

  “He’s been surviving in stasis,” Angie says. “He’s almost a skeleton, but he still has eyes and teeth, and I could hear a heartbeat. He’s something unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, and I know I haven’t been a paranormal being for long, but I’ve seen so very much since becoming a ghost. Trust me.”

  “So he’s not a zombie,” I say slowly.

  "He's not quite alive, but he's not dead. What exactly he is defies labels," Morgana says, "and that is rather beside the point. If they sacrifice themselves to bring Cain back, we will all be in grave danger."

  I shake the scepter. “This will take care of him.”

  “Do not be so certain on that account,” Morgana says, “and you should not be so gibe about all of this. You should be doing what you can to ensure that the cainians die before they can bring him back to life.”

  “When the witch says we will all be in grave danger, she doesn’t mean the four of us,” Angie says.

  I bite my tongue so I don’t mention aloud that a ghost doesn’t have to worry about grave danger or any other kind of danger for that matter.

  “The ghost is right,” Morgana says. “The we means everyone. Witches, ghosts, humans… Everyone living on this Earth will be in terrible peril.”

  I swallow hard and eye Darius.

  He grins. "See? You have some kind of strange light in you. Even when you want to do something crazy, like have revenge and kill a bunch of creatures, it's actually for the betterment of humankind."

  “If you don’t stop with that light crap,” I start.

  “What is this about light?” Angie asks.

  “It’s nothing really,” I say, but the look Darius is giving me makes me sigh and explain, “A genie wanted me to use my talents for good and not for money. He thought I could help to make the world have more light by diminishing its darkness, or something like that. Darius won’t let it go.”

  Morgana eyes Angie.

  The ghost shrugs. "I'm just wondering if one day, I'll see the light, and this will all fade away."

  “You will move on one day,” Morgana assures her. “Take heart in knowing that helping Rebel here is not what is keeping you lingering here on Earth and preventing you from finding peace.”

  “Where exactly is their lair?” I ask Angie.

  “It’s inside a volcano. A dormant one. In…” Angie closes her eyes. “Give me a second. I don’t quite see the world like I used to before. Mount Kilimanjaro.”

  Darius’s eyes lit up. “I always wanted to go to Africa.”

  “Inside a volcano,” I say dully.

  “Don’t worry. Kilimanjaro is dormant,” Darius says.

  “Oh, are you on a first-name basis with the volcano. No Mount Kilimanjaro for you. Just Kilimanjaro.” I wave my arms about. I’m rambling because I’m nervous, and I hate being nervous.

  “Are you feeling all right?” Angie asks.

  “I’m just peachy,” I mumble.

  “You aren’t having second thoughts, are you?” Darius asks.

  “Of course not.”

  “Are you?” Morgana presses.

  "I said of course not! But I'm not stupid. I know the chances of our succeeding are slim. We could barely handle the ones we faced, and there are nine left. Nine."

  “You’ve killed four already,” Morgana says. “If you kill four more, only five will remain, and then they cannot conduct their ritual.”

  I bite my lower lip. “Because that will be simple. Is there anything else we need to know before we go off to face them?”

  “Do not underestimate them,” Morgana says.

  “Anything that we don’t already know,” I say dryly.

  “I’m willing to come too,” Angie volunteers.

  “No.” I shake my head. “Go be with Doyle. You’ve done more than enough.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” I say firmly.

  “Which cone?” Darius asks. “We don’t have time to explore all three.”

  “I don’t know their names,” Angie protests.

  “Was it either of the shortest ones?” Darius asks. “Those are Mawenzi and Shira. They’re both extinct.”

  “How
do you know so much about the mountain?” I mutter.

  “I love mountain climbing,” Darius says. “Well, I do when wickedly evil paranormal creatures aren’t lurking about them.”

  I blink a few times. “You need a new hobby,” I inform him.

  “Plenty of people like to go mountain climbing he protests.

  Morgana sighs. “Why am I worried that you two will not succeed?”

  “Your confidence is overwhelming,” I deadpan.

  Angie snaps her fingers. “The tallest cone!” she squeals.

  “Kibo,” Darius says. “That one is dormant.”

  “Dormant. Extinct. What’s the difference?” I ask.

  “Extinct volcanos haven’t erupted in over ten thousand years. They aren’t going to erupt again.”

  A sinking suspicion has me narrowing my eyes. “Does that mean a dormant volcano might erupt again?”

  “Yes.”

  “As in still active?”

  “Yes.”

  “We have to climb inside an active volcano,” I say flatly.

  “As long as it isn’t erupting, which it isn’t, we’ll be fine,” he says. “Kibo last erupted over two hundred years ago.”

  “That’s not all that long ago in a volcano’s lifetime,” I counter.

  “True, but we’ll be fine.”

  So he says. I’m not so sure.

  “It will take them about another hour or so to fully prepare and start the ritual. You have time to kill the four,” Morgana says.

  An hour. To kill four of them. I don’t know how long it took us to kill the first four, but it had to have been a lot longer than an hour. Worse, all nine of them will be there.

  In short, we’re doomed.

  Chapter 28

  My hands are shaking. I have just enough of the travel dust to get us to the volcano and then one other place. That’s it. One shot. One chance. One stake of all stakes. The opportunity I’ve been waiting for since I first learned who killed Mason and Gracie.

  The hour of my revenge is at hand.

  “I never thought that I wouldn’t be able to have my revenge all by myself,” I murmur to Darius as I get ready to sprinkle us with the dust.

  “You would rather do this alone?” he asks.

  I can’t tell if he’s hurt by my statement, but he shouldn’t be.

  “It would be different if you could kill them too,” I explain.

  “Except you do need me to kill them.”

  “Well, I can use it as a weapon,” I point out.

  “Of course, if you want to get up close and personal with nine of them. You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

  “It’s not as if I asked for them to kill my family.” I swallow hard and blink back tears.

  Darius puts his hand over mine. “It’s all right. We’ll be all right.”

  “Neither one of us might make it out of this alive.”

  “Then we’ll go down fighting. An ex-paranormal executioner and a supernatural bounty hunter. I can’t think of a better way to go out.”

  “You almost sound like you have a death wish.”

  “Never I want to live. I want…” He exhales. “I want so much.”

  “Start making a list. We’ll go through and check it off one by one.”

  “Bold of you to assume I want your help with my list.”

  I cough slightly, and my cheeks grow red. Why do I wonder if I would make it onto his list? I shouldn’t want to. He should want someone who doesn’t have my special brand of crazy.

  “Let’s do this,” he murmurs as his fingers interlock my hand that isn’t holding the fairy dust, and it’s as if everyone else has faded away.

  No. Wait. Angie’s faded away, gone to Doyle I hope, and Morgana has left us alone too.

  I shake my head and almost smile. “Yes, let’s.”

  The familiar pulling sensation overwhelms me, and when I open my eyes next, we're standing near the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that it's nighttime. The moon is rising right above the opening of the crater. It's a majestic sight, far too picturesque and beautiful for it to be the setting of such horrific evil.

  Because if Cain's lived for this long, he truly is powerful. What is driving him? Revenge? If he's cursed but alive yet, he will make a mighty foe. Considering he's birthed so many vicious and cruel monsters, what kind of monster would he be if he came to live life fully once more?

  It’s not something I want to think about.

  “You couldn’t have brought us inside the volcano?” Darius grumbles as we begin to climb.

  “We want the element of surprise,” I remind him. “Besides, the last thing I want is for us to appear and end up in the rock wall of the volcano. This isn’t an exact science. It’s not science at all. It’s magic.”

  “Yes, I know it’s magic, but you used it better when we were chasing that trail of dead bodies.”

  I lower my head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m stalling a little.”

  “Why? Don’t you want your revenge?” He grunts as he jumps over a large boulder and reaches back to give me a hand up.

  “I do, and I know we’re on a time crunch, but…”

  He glances at me but doesn’t press, continuing to climb quickly.

  I sigh and follow. “I could curse you for what you’ve done. You and Vinca and Misty and everyone else.”

  “Because we made you care about people again.”

  “I have people to lose again after I swore I wouldn’t let anyone get close.”

  “Luna seemed like she was more than just a business partner,” he ventures.

  “Maybe. Maybe I wasn’t as good at keeping everyone at arm’s length as I thought I was.”

  We continue climbing and reach the summit minutes later. Steam billows out, making me nervous, but it’s the smell of sulfur that churns my stomach. Covering my nose and mouth with the crook of my arm, I peek over the edge. Indents line the perimeter like a massive, circular staircase.

  “Ladies first,” Darius mutters in my ear.

  “Coward.”

  I do go first, timid in the beginning and then moving faster. The pressure of time ticks at me, my heart beating away the seconds. I really hope I get used to the smell of the sulfur soon. The heat combined with the smell has me thinking about Hell far too much. As much as I want to send the cainians there, I don’t want any demons to appear. Not that I have any reason to think they will. I’m just nervous, and when I’m nervous, I tend to think worst-case scenario, and my imagination can go into overdrive.

  Hmm. I almost wonder if the cainians could be classified as a specific kind of demon. Had Abel married? Had he gotten his wife pregnant before he died? Maybe the brothers birthed the first angels and demons to walk on Earth. I assume there have to be more angels and demons than those down here, others that are in Heaven and Hell, respectively.

  Focus, Rebel, or you’ll get yourself and Darius killed.

  I can do this. I have to.

  I must.

  Abruptly, I halt. There’s an opening, a portion of the stone of the volcano chiseled away to reveal a tunnel. The stones here give off a faint, warm glow, as if the rocks themselves contain magma.

  I glance over my shoulder at Darius. He nods, so we head inside. Eventually, the tunnel widens so we can walk side by side instead of single file.

  Darius reaches over. For my hand, I think, but then he touches the end of the scepter, charging it, charging it, charging it until the weapon begins to hum. It's literally humming.

  “Do you hear that?” I hiss to him.

  He nods.

  Not good. It’s not loud, but I don’t want to have anything that might give away our arrival.

  There’s nothing that can be done about it. We need the scepter to be powered if we’re to have any chance at killing the four.

  Maybe we don’t have to kill the four. What if there’s another way to stop the ritual? If there’s potions or ingredients or anything like that, can’t we
just destroy it? After the very least, that would delay their plans, and then we can try to take them out one here, one there, and survive. Going after them all or even just four of them now is suicide.

  Look at me. I’ve lived for my revenge, and now I want to delay that so I can live to reach old age. I thought I made peace with dying young. My parents hadn’t been old when they died. Mason and Gracie hadn’t been either. For years, I figured it was almost a curse on my family to die well before our prime. After all, so many Quinns died young.

  But I don’t want to die today. I don’t want revenge to be my final act.

  Even so, nothing will stop me from achieving that revenge. In the end, I haven’t changed all that much after all.

  Embolden, I press forward, almost running. When you go up against paranormal creatures on the regular, it becomes second nature to walk and even run silently. You have to be quiet. Any sound could get you killed. I don't tend to have high blood pressure, and all of the exercise I do has gotten my resting heartbeat in the fifties. I struggled for years, but I manage to learn how to not suck in air while running. I might not like cardio, but sometimes, a bounty hunter's gotta run.

  Abruptly, I halt. I’m standing on a slight ledge that runs around the perimeter of a massive, circular room. Down below is an altar on a dais, both altar and dais fashioned out of the volcanic rock.

  All around the altar are the cainians, three at the head and three at the feet with one on either side. Wait. One’s missing. Ah, there he is. He enters from a room off to my left, and he’s bringing a white tablecloth. With great reverence, he lays the cloth onto the altar.

  Why white? Black would be much more fitting for their dark souls, dark deeds, dark desire.

  It's easy enough to picture them as the heart of all that is evil and wicked in the world, but that's not the case. Each of us faces a yearly, monthly, weekly, daily, hourly battle to be good or to be evil. Our actions define us, and how we respond to the consequences is even more telling. Life is a constant battle, a struggle, and we can set ourselves and others up to succeed or to fail.

  Darius? I want him to triumph in everything he does and wants.

  The cainians? I want them to die, for them to not even be ashes, for them to be completely gone, wiped off the face of the Earth. I want it to be as if they never even existed.