Hunter's Quest: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Rebel, Supernatural Bounty Hunter Book 1)

by Nicole Zoltack

  “What are you going to do if I refuse?” the genie asks. He crosses his arms, his legs disappearing into mist again.

  Amad looks like such a stereotypical genie right now. All he needs to do is put his long hair into a ponytail. I don’t think I’ll tell him that, though. He’s angry enough as it is.

  “You’re far too callous with human life.”

  “Am I? Except I’m human, and you aren’t.”

  “Plenty of humans don’t care for fellow humans’ lives. Look at how many wars you humans have fought.”

  “Yes, because I can and should be blamed for what my ancestors have done. We aren’t at war.”

  “You aren’t personally, but other humans are.”

  "So, I'm supposed to be lumped in with the worst of my kind?" I shake my head. What is his point?

  “Vampires are evil.”

  “Not all of them,” I say, even though it pains me.

  “Yes, they are. They need humans’ blood—”

  “Not all of them drink from the source,” I say through gritted teeth.

  He narrows his eyes. “You would defend them? Have you… Has one hired you?”

  “I fail to see how that is any of your concern,” I snap. “Do you want me to start asking you questions? Why do you want a fang from a vampire anyhow? Seems to me an item like that could be used in a spell. Are you working with a witch? You do know that not all witches are good, don’t you? What if you are in leagues with one who is evil?”

  “I thought that one of your tenets was that you did not ask questions.”

  “Normally, my clients know better than to question me.” I will not be bullied, and I will defend myself. No genie is going to make me cower.

  “Your callous nature is going to end up getting more and more killed.”

  I smirk. “Did you forget that you hired me to kill the vampire? If I could’ve just captured him and brought him to you alive, then I could have snatched him the moment I first came across him, but no. You wanted me to kill him and fetch you a fang. Not only that, you wanted a specific vampire’s fang. Not any old vampire would do.” I shrug. “I’m not asking why. I’m just stating the facts. Why you want that vampire’s fang is your business, but I will say one thing. Since I don’t plan on giving up my bounty hunting business, I will get more killed because I will be doing the killing. Oh, and think of it this way. I killed the vampire. Yes, he killed a few more while I hunted him—”

  “Five! And that isn’t including the girl!”

  “But he can’t kill anyone else now,” I finish.

  “Who are you to play god?” he roars.

  “That’s funny,” I say dryly. “You played god with that vampire.”

  “Is everything a joke to you?” he spits out.

  “I’m not laughing,” I inform him. “Oh, and by the by, the vampire was older than you told me he was. I had the…”

  I trail off, thinking furiously. The amount of vampire repellant I used should have killed a vampire as old as the genie claimed the vampire was. I should’ve had more, a lot more.

  But what if the genie specifically told me the wrong age on purpose?

  “Did you want me to die?” I ask.

  “I thought you don’t ask questions,” Amad growls.

  “Oh, come off it, Amad. I don’t ask clients questions, but we both know you aren’t going to hire me again, are you?”

  He floats higher in the air, his cloud growing bigger, wider.

  “You wanted the vampire to kill me. Did you even want that fang? I suppose you could always sell it to a witch.” I shake my head and scoff. “What do you have against me, if I may ask?”

  “I’ve been watching you,” the genie says. “I hoped you were making a difference, that you were selective with the cases you took on. After all, it did seem like you were killing evil paranormal creatures, but that’s not always the case. In fact, that’s more happenstance, isn’t it? It only matters what the client will pay you, isn’t that right?”

  I say nothing.

  “You only want money and nothing else. You didn’t ask me about the vampire I had you kill. You claim some are good. What if you had killed a good one?”

  “You know my tenet. I don’t ask questions of the client, so why should I look into the target? That doesn’t exactly make any sense. That’s first of all. Second of all, that vampire killed a woman right in front of me as well as the five others you mentioned. That’s not a good vampire.”

  The genie eyes me. “You think that because you killed an evil vampire—”

  “I’ve killed more than one vampire,” I say dryly.

  “And I can kill you in an instant if I wanted to,” he hisses, zooming over to tower over me.

  “Go ahead,” I challenge him. “Take a whiff. You can smell emotions, right? Do you smell fear? You don’t. I’m not afraid of you. You want something from me. What? An eyelash? Spit? Some blood? Because if you wanted me dead, you wouldn’t have debated and talked ethics with me for so long. It must be something that won’t change after death if you did want the vampire to kill me. A fingernail? A bone?”

  The genie shrinks and turns his back to me, his cloud dissipating as his legs reappear. “You should leave now before I do kill you.”

  I toss the small bag at him and misjudge the distance. Instead of the bag landing near his feet, the bag hits him square in the back of his knee. I couldn’t have hit that exact spot if I tried.

  “I wish you would tell me what all of this was about,” I say softly.

  The genie stiffens. “We don’t give wishes,” he mutters disgustedly.

  “Oh, I realize that, but I still wish you would tell me.”

  I didn't realize that. I really did think the wish thing was real. Genies do have tremendous power, and I can't believe that all the stories about their being trapped were the figments of someone's imagination. No, people at one point had found a way to get the genies to do their bidding, aka grant their wishes.

  Amad says nothing. I roll my eyes and head to the door.

  “I wanted you dead,” he says softly. “I thought you might prove to be a threat. I hoped you could have actually done something amazing and wonderful with your life, but that’s not going to happen, not if you don’t start asking questions and asking the right ones.”

  I say nothing. So I disappointed him. What do I care? I barely even know the genie.

  I open the door.

  “You forgot your payment,” he calls.

  “Keep your coins.”

  He murmurs something in another language, but I don’t ask what it means, and I leave the apartment complex.

  About a block away, I realize my pouch is heavier than it should be. Inside are two solid gold pieces. Thick but malleable gold pieces. They’re pure gold.

  There’s also a note.

  We're even now. You did what I asked, even if I wanted you to fail. I know how much money you are trying to save. I just don't know why. Perhaps this will help, but, truly, Rebel, start to ask the right questions.

  Amad’s right. I am trying to save up a lot of money. What he doesn’t know is that I do have a lot of questions, questions I desperately need answers to. Maybe, with these gold coins, I’ll get them sooner rather than later.

  Chapter 3

  The genie, for all the good his coins will pay me, is no longer a client. Whenever I lose a client, I have to drown my sorrows. It's a ritual I do, a way for me to keep my head on straight. If it's all business all the time, I would go crazy. This world… it's not what most people think it is. Yes, I don't ask questions about who wants which creature captured or killed, but I do believe that each one off the streets is better for humanity overall. People tend to get caught in the crosshairs at times, and those people end up dead for their troubles, and all because the paranormal community wishes to remain secreted away.

  If they would just come out…

  But I understand why they don't. People fear what they don't understand. I certainly feared the
vampires and the others when I first learned about them, but I didn't have a choice. I had to adapt, or else I would've been another casualty. I refuse to become a statistic. I will live and die on my own terms. Yes, every day is a roll of the dice, and sometimes, I wish I could go back to playing Dungeons and Dragons with my brother, but that's impossible now. Life has changed. I'm not the same girl anymore, and my brother…

  So, yes, I slow things down after a client dumps me, which, all things considering, doesn’t happen all that often. A few times, I’ve even had to kill former clients, but that’s another story. Life is a roller coaster, and you have to take the ups and the downs. The valleys suck, so does the climb, but in the end, things should balance each other out. At least I hope so.

  Before I came of age, I would drown myself in a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. I’m twenty-one now, been for a few months, so maybe I’ll head to a bar instead, especially since another client told me about a bar that’s run by and frequented by supernaturals. They might not want a human there, but I’m not any human. If the bartender goes, “We don’t serve your kind here,” I’ll just make a Star Wars reference. I’m also not gonna go unarmed, and if anything should happen, I will shoot first. Just like Han did.

  The name of the bar is Ye Ole Chestplate. The sign is metal, not wooden, with a knight chiseled onto it. I love it, and I stroll inside and am promptly disappointed. It looks like any other bar.

  The hostess chomps on her gum as if she’s starving. “Just one?” she asks, bored, not even looking up at me.

  “Yep.”

  “Find a place…” She looks up and freezes.

  I grin. “Anywhere?”

  “We don’t—”

  "I'm not a droid." My grin's even wider now. "You can serve me. My money is the same as a vampire's."

  She narrows her eyes. They’re purple, and the only hint of what she is, although she’s scrambling to draw her hair forward, so I’m guessing her ears are pointed.

  “The same as an elf’s,” I add.

  “You must be Rebel,” she finally says, relaxing some. “I heard about you, but I didn’t think you were real.”

  “Because humans are weak and pathetic creatures who can’t possibly be a bounty hunter for your kinds.” I wave my hand to encompass the room. “It’s a lot tamer here than I expected.”

  She snorts. "That's because there's an enchantment over the place, so humans won't want to come here and eat and drink."

  “I still do.”

  "Yeah, but if you think it's tame, then it's working on you at least somewhat." The fairy leans forward. "I'm sure you have a talisman or something similar to help see through enchantments, but I'll lift it for you."

  “In exchange for…” I’m no fool. No one, especially not a fairy, does something for nothing.

  "Can you prank my boyfriend? You'll see him once I lift it. Aeden will be in the corner, wearing the black trench coat. Jet black hair, crazy light blue eyes. Tell him you were hired to clip his wings unless he proposes to me."

  I shrug. “Sounds simple enough. No problem.”

  “Great!” She beams.

  “Wait a second. The owners won’t like it if I come in here and conduct business. I’ll get thrown out. I’ll just drop the enchantment myself.” I start to reach into my pouch.

  “Don’t worry about it.” The fairy waves her hand. “My parents own the place, and they want him to propose already. I’ve considered asking him myself, but my parents will freak out if I do. They’re such traditionalists in some aspects.”

  “Wait. Fairies make the food here?” I ask, my heart sinking. Fairy food and humans don’t mix. Neither does fairy drink.

  “Yeah, so if I were you, I wouldn’t eat anything, but you can drink just fine. We have a dwarf who brews everything, so you don’t have to worry there.”

  “All right, then. You’ve got yourself a deal…”

  “Vinca.” She eyes me a moment, and she smiles even wider. “Some people hate you, but we all have to make a living, right? I think I like you.”

  “Will you still like me if this doesn’t work?”

  “That’s on him, not you. That you’re willing to do this… We’re friends.”

  “If you say so.” I’m not too crazy about having friends. People die far too easily, but fairies tend to live a good long while, so maybe in this case, things’ll work out. It would be nice to have a friend. Maybe.

  Her purple-painted lips move, but I hear no sound. She holds out her hands, and dust rises. She blows the dust onto me, and I sneeze and then start to cough. As soon as I recover, everything changes. The walls aren’t wooden but metal, just like the sign, and the columns on either side of the welcome area aren’t columns at all but suits of armor complete with swords and shields. Behind, instead of being almost dead, the place is hopping. There’s barely an open seat in the place, people are shouting out their orders, laughing, drinking, eating, just having a good time. Some fairies are flying instead of sitting, and there are ogres, goblins, trolls… And that’s just those closest to me. I’m sure there are a ton of other different creatures here.

  I stand on my tiptoes and spy her boyfriend. “Are you ready for this?” I ask.

  “Please!”

  Chuckling to myself, I maneuver through the packed place, making certain not to bump into anyone. I don’t want to be the center of attention, but that’s going to change as soon as I talk to her boyfriend.

  “Aeden,” I say as I approach him.

  His eyes really are a light blue. It makes him look otherworldly. He probably has to wear colored contacts when he goes out in public.

  “I knew I would find you here.” I pull out the chair across from him but don’t sit. “I’m here for you.”

  “I’m taken,” he says.

  “You aren’t wearing a ring.”

  Aeden glances from me toward the front.

  “Here’s how it’s going to go,” I inform him. “I’m going to clip your wings, right here, right now.”

  “You’re that insane human bounty hunter, aren’t you?” Aeden jumps to his feet, and those around us fall silent. “Who would want you to clip my wings?”

  “You want to keep them? That’s fine. All you have to do—”

  “Is propose to Vinca,” he says with a laugh. He shakes his head. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to date a fairy?”

  “I can’t say I’ve experienced that,” I say dryly.

  “She’ll want the largest, grandest gesture for a proposal. Just getting down on one knee won’t be good enough. I would give her the wings off my back if I could! I actually came here to try and brainstorm a way to propose to her that she’ll accept, and this is what she does? Pretends to hire a—”

  "Oh, this isn't pretend." I cross my arms. "What's it going to be? You popping the question, or am I gaining fairy wings?"

  He gapes at me.

  “Just ask her now in front of everyone,” I murmur. “That’ll be grand enough. Think about it. She went to all this trouble with me. She’s going to say yes.”

  “Or she’ll say no and embarrass me.”

  “If she does that, dump her,” I say flatly. “That would be cruel. I don’t know Vinca very well, but I don’t think that’s her.”

  "No," he murmurs.

  A slow smile covers his face, and he takes to the air. His wings flutter wildly as he reaches the height of the cathedral ceiling. I hadn't looked up before, but the ceiling is breathtaking, all glass, the darkening sky visible. A few stars twinkle down on us like a fairy wonderland. I giggle to myself.

  “Vinca!” Aeden calls out.

  The hostess eyes her boyfriend with a slight smirk. She leans on her desk, elbow resting on menus, her hand cupping her chin.

  “Will you do me the honor of sharing our life’s flight together for the rest of our lives?”

  Aw. What a cute way to phrase the question.

  All around us, people and creatures begin to cheer and clap. A minotaur stomps his hooves, and
a banshee shrieks.

  I can’t hear Vinca’s response, but she flies up to him, and they kiss, embracing, their wings coming together as they slowly circle in place, hovering in mid-air. It’s a beautiful sight.

  “Drinks are on the house!” someone calls.

  There’s a mad dash to the bar, and I’m just able to see a proud-looking fairy couple. They must be the owners and Vinca’s parents.

  A pang hits my chest, seeing all of the happiness and joy.

  It takes a good twenty minutes for there to be a spot at the bar. There are several bartenders working, and a troll bartender eyes me skeptically. Her skin is a pale icy-blue color, and her eyes are yellow. Her ears are huge and pointed, and her tusks gleam in the light. Even though her long hair is white, I don't think she's old. I could be wrong, though. It's not always easy to tell a paranormal creature's age.

  “Why are you here?” she asks.

  I jerk my thumb at the fairy couple who haven’t come down from their perch in mid-air. They’re probably still kissing yet.

  “Yeah, I got that part, but why are you still here?”

  “A bar with free drinks. Yeah, I’m gonna take advantage.”

  The troll wipes the counter down. “And what will you have?”

  “Whatever you want to give me. No food, though.”

  That gets her to crack a smile. “Smart human.”

  “I have a name.”

  “Rebel,” she mutters. “One second.”

  She disappears into the back.

  Someone claims the stool beside me, someone short. I glance over. A curly mop of red hair. Blue eyes. Red beard and mustache. He’s not wearing anything green and doesn’t have a hat, but his short stature can only mean one thing.

  He bangs on the counter. Another bartender sees him, fills a tankard, and slides it down the counter to him.

  "Down on your luck?" I quip.

  The leprechaun glowers at me, his face twisting with anger. His entire body is trembling as he grabs his tankard and starts to climb down from his stool.