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

by Nicole Zoltack

  Right as Mom's about to cave and say yes, the car driving the opposite way jerks into our lane. There's no time to react, and since there's no shoulder here, there's nowhere to go. The car creams into us headfirst.

  I scream. Glass shatters. There’s blood everywhere, and that’s all I know. I learn later that the glass shattering is because I hit my head so hard into the window that it cracks. Oh, and the windshield broke too, glass all over my parents. All of us wore seat belts, but that didn’t save my parents. The windshield breaking is by far the least worrisome of the damage to the front of the car. Apparently, it crumbled like an accordion. It took the workers hours to get my parents out of the wreck.

  The other driver? High as a kite. He wasn’t wearing a seat belt, and he flew out of his car through his windshield and landed so far from the accident scene that it took a long time for him to be located.

  He was dead too.

  I was the only survivor.

  On the drive home from my brother’s wedding, my parents died.

  I'm a minor, so I need a legal guardian. Mason takes me in. I'm sure that's just what he and Gracie want, but he never complains. Still, something happened to change him. I'm not sure when, but I don't think it was my parent's death. Whatever it was, it very well could have been what Mom had been talking about, how grief or something important could change a person and make them want to act. You would've thought my parents had been killed in a mugging gone wrong because Mason, Gracie, and I, we all take on gym memberships, start karate lessons, and even go to the shooting range on weekends. My brother wants me to be strong.

  “One day, you will be alone,” he says. “You’ll need to be able to take care of yourself.”

  “From the monsters lurking in the shadows.” I roll my eyes.

  “There are monsters,” he says.

  Back then, I thought we were talking about muggers or rapists or murderers. Back then, I was ignorant of the paranormal beings walking among us. Back then, I had been naïve.

  On my sixteenth birthday, I hope and hope and hope for that game I never did get to buy because of my parents' deaths. It's on sale now. We don't have a lot of money, and I don't ask for anything. There are other games that have come out since, but I really want this one specific game. It's become almost like a talisman.

  Honestly, since we don’t have a lot of money, it should make me question why we have the gym memberships and take the lessons and why we all own guns, even though it’s not quite legal for me to.

  My birthday is in the spring, late May. All my life, I’ve eaten cake and had presents outside, usually at a park. Mason takes me out to a field of wildflowers. It’s beautiful.

  Mason and Gracie sing to me, and we enjoy a delicious vanilla cake with peanut butter buttercream icing. It’s decadent. I thoroughly enjoy every bit.

  Then, my brother clears his throat. “Before we give you your present, we want to talk to you about something.”

  “Go ahead.” I’m not a child anymore. I can wait.

  “You see, there’s something we’ve wanted to tell you for a while now.”

  I purse my lips. “Are you finally going to explain why you two leave on trips all the time? I know it’s not for work.”

  Mason and Gracie exchange a glance.

  “It is for work,” my brother murmurs.

  “It’s just that we have another job,” his wife says.

  “Another job?” I frown. “What is it?”

  “You see, we’re—”

  There’s a gap here, in my memory. I don’t know what happens next. All I know is that we're talking one second, and then when I'm aware again, my brother and his wife are dead. I start to scream in my mind but not out loud. I'm with it just enough to realize that their killer might be close.

  Something makes me look at their present. It's a long, rectangular box, so no way is it a video game. I have no idea what compels me to open it, but it's a twin set of iron daggers.

  Just then, a massive breeze almost knocks me over. I look up to see a man standing over me. His fangs drip saliva, and his eyes are blood-red.

  A vampire.

  I stagger back, brandishing the daggers to keep him at bay. He hisses but is wary.

  He doesn’t want the iron near him.

  My brother… Did he know about vampires? His other job… Had they been vampire hunters?

  It blows my mind to think that, but then my training takes over. We learned how to use knives in karate, and I jump to my feet and attack. The vampire doesn’t expect it, and I end up jabbing him in the chest with one dagger and in the throat with the other.

  He staggers back, hands going to his throat, dark blood leaking between his fingers. The vampire glowers at me and is gone.

  They really do have super speed.

  I whirl around to see that my family’s corpses aren’t the only ones here. There are more vampires, and they’re already drinking from Mason and Gracie.

  Rage and anger and grief have me raging against them, wanting to fight, but I can’t fight them all back, and I have no choice. I can’t save my family. They’re dead, and if this present proves, they want me to fight, but more importantly, they want me to live.

  There’s no way they didn’t have weapons on their persons. They knew about vampires. They hunted them. Something else killed them.

  That is my quest—to learn who killed them.

  Only after I fulfill my quest can I have my revenge.

  Chapter 14

  “Get out of my head, witch!” I shout, my hands covering my ears.

  “Oh, so you think you don’t need a witch’s help anymore?” she asks coyly.

  I growl. “Yes, fine,” I snap. “I’ve been saving up for a certain spell.”

  “Have you now? And what spell is this?”

  I shake my head. “I already have a witch picked out. She named her price. I almost have enough—”

  “You want to have that missing piece of memory restored.”

  Unnerved, I exhale loudly through my nose. "Yes."

  “Without your mind being tampered.”

  “Yes.”

  “It is easy to get into one’s head,” she remarks idly, “but even witches can have a hard time dealing with repressed memories.”

  “It’s not a repressed memory,” I mumble.

  “I suspected as much.”

  "I've already let a witch try to see what happened. She couldn't. There's something… there… in my mind. Whatever it did, it didn't want me to remember. Why? Why was I left alive?"

  “Both times,” she muses.

  I glare at her, hating that she knows far more about me than she should. Next to no one knows about my past. Actually, she and the other witch are the only others to know this much about me. Considering she stole the headspace to learn this, I am not happy at all that she has so much knowledge. Knowledge is power, that’s how the saying goes, and it’s the truth.

  But the question of why am I alive and they’re all dead has plagued me for years and years. I’m not anything special. I mean, yeah, as far as I know, I’m the only supernatural bounty hunter in the entire world, but that doesn’t make me special. If anything, it makes me arrogant and reckless and more than a little foolish.

  I wonder what my dad would think about my choice in profession.

  “You better stock up on blue life potions then.”

  “Blue? But that only heals you once. Red heals you twice.”

  “I know, but I would rather you not be hurt twice. I would rather you not be hurt at all.”

  Mom’s reaction would be far different.

  “You played way too many video games growing up.”

  “Would you rather I do this or sell drugs? Everything’s better than drugs.”

  “I think you proved that’s not the case.”

  “Really?”

  “You’re killing—”

  “Vampires who kill humans. Dragons who—”

  “They’re an endangered species!”


  “Because they’re dangerous!”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “I know.”

  “I just want you safe.”

  “And I just wish you were alive.”

  If I could, I would wish them back to life, but that’s so not a good idea. Zombies are a thing, but so far, I haven’t seen one, and I don’t want to. There’s no doubt in my mind that even a genie can’t bring my family back to life, not the way I want them to be. Besides, Amad said the genie granting wishes thing isn’t real.

  Regardless, why me? Why didn't the creature kill me, and where did it come from? Why kill Mason and Gracie and then run off? Because of the vampires? Anything that could've taken Mason unaware shouldn't have been frightened of vampires. None of it makes any sense, but there's one thing I know for certain. That creature is going to rue the day it didn't kill me alongside my brother.

  “Do you trust me?” Morena asks.

  “I can’t say for certain that I do,” I say coolly.

  “I have done more spells than you can imagine. I have worked with ingredients that lesser witches won’t even touch. I am willing to go to whatever lengths are required to gain what I want, and I very much suspect that you are the same.”

  I say nothing.

  “I do not blame you for your mistrust, but if you can bring yourself to hear me out, I would very much like something done. If you complete this small task for me, I will do what you want. I will unblock your mind without you going crazy. I will help you learn what it was that killed your brother and his wife, and I will even assist you in your revenge if that is your wish.”

  I don’t trust her. I don’t. I can’t. Not after everything she’s done already. She’s far too manipulative.

  But she is powerful and knowledgeable. I’ll give her that much.

  "How can you even be certain you can help me?" I ask. "Whatever it was… It affected my mind. It's not just a mental block or something simple. There might not even be anything to be recovered."

  "There are many ways to learn what happened." She stares at me in such a way I have to force myself not to fidget.

  Does she know? I returned to the scene of the murders later, much later. The vampires were gone, but the bodies remained. I… I can't bring myself to call the authorities, so I buried them there. I marked the spot with a pile of rocks. Every few months, I return to make sure the rocks remain. I usually add a few more each time.

  Would she need the bodies exhumed? I don’t like that idea at all, but if it proves to be the only way, I might reconsider.

  “What is this job you want? Why is it so important to you?”

  “Again with the questions.” Morena tsks.

  “This is no ordinary job, or else you wouldn’t be offering to be my personal witch assistant,” I point out.

  “I suppose that’s fair. All you have to do is kill a simple witch.”

  “Who?”

  “His name is Dillon. He’s a witch with strong arcane powers. So long as he doesn’t realize you’re after him, he shouldn’t pose a threat at all. Just kill him any way you like. I would like for you to bring back his head, though. Proof of death is required.”

  It’s not the most terrible thing to be asked, all things considering.

  “Where can I find him?”

  The witch snaps her fingers, and a piece of paper appears in her hand. She does the same with her other hand and gives me the papers.

  One is a picture of a man with slicked-back, dark brown hair. His eyes are a piercing gray. His eyebrows are thick, and the lines of his face are sharp and strong. Somehow, he looks capable even through the picture.

  “He’s hot,” I remark. “What did he do? Insult your true form?

  Morena does not blink. “Will you do it?”

  I glance at the other paper. It’s an address for a place near Harrisburg. About a three-hour drive if I’m not mistaken. I’m going to near an oil change soon with all of this driving.

  “I will try.”

  “Try?” she snaps.

  I shrug. “I’ll do it,” I correct.

  Dad always hated it when I would say I would try to do something. Honestly, I would say it just to get a rise out of him. He loved Yoda, the green puppet his favorite Star Wars character. If only he lived long enough to watch The Mandalorian with me. He would’ve loved Baby Yoda as much as I do. Even Mom would’ve loved the little guy.

  “Good.”

  “Is there anything else I need to know about this Dillon guy? Does he live alone?”

  "Isn't it your job to find out all of the details necessary for you to complete your task?" she asks. "You are trying my patience. Go now and do not return until he's dead."

  “Patience is a virtue.”

  "I do not need to be lectured. You might be willing to waste years and years of your life before you have your revenge, but when you are being paid for a job, you should let your clients feel the sting of patience."

  “I don’t need a lecture either. It took me about a week to get you your ingredients. I would say that’s rather impressive.”

  “The past doesn’t matter. Only the future. I know that’s hard for you to accept, but that’s how it goes.”

  I bristle. “You really think a lot of yourself if you think I’ll stand here and take your insults and still work for you.”

  “Now, now. I won’t apologize, but we both know that you want what I have to offer. Now, go and kill the witch.”

  “Can’t stand to have a little competition?” I ask.

  “That has nothing to do with him needing to die.”

  “And you can’t get close to him for you to be the one to do it. He can see through your illusions?”

  She hesitates and then nods. “Yes. He’s a fairly capable witch. Do not underestimate him.”

  I turn to go.

  “Tiff—”

  “Do not call me that again,” I snap. “I’m Rebel.”

  The day my brother and his wife died, so did Tiffany Rose.

  “Very well, Rebel.”

  Her tone is different now, not soft but more compassionate. It almost makes me wonder if her anger had been geared at this Dillon guy instead of myself.

  “I would not send you to your death,” she continues. “You can do this. You must. For both of us.”

  Chapter 15

  For the entire trek out to Harrisburg, I can't stop thinking. Morena… I don't trust her. Not one bit. No matter how much she claims it is, this is not going to be an easy kill. This guy clearly did something to her… or maybe she did something to him, and she wants to make certain he doesn't retaliate and kill her first.

  And back to my parents, the car accident, Mason’s and Gracie’s murders… I do my best not to think about them. It hurts too much to. The grief, the guilt, the sorrow… My brother was invaluable after Mom and Dad passed, but I had no one once he and his wife were taken from me.

  The only way I could function was to continue to go to the gym and the dojo and the shooting range. I needed some semblance of normalcy in my life, and I could lose myself in the repetition of lifting heavy things and putting them down and kicking and punching and shooting.

  It was one of the times when I fired all of my bullets faster than I should’ve that I realized what I was doing.

  What Mason had me doing all along.

  Training.

  There’s no doubt in my mind that he had been about to tell me about vampires. He wanted me to be a vampire hunter like he was.

  That’s when I embarked on my quest, but I knew they hadn’t been killed by vampires. I had to learn what other creatures were out there.

  Ironically enough, my first client had been a vampire of all creatures.

  I’m going through my brother’s things. Not snooping. He’s dead, remember? I’m finding so many weapons hidden away, including stakes. In fact, I’ve just come across the cache of stakes when a vampire shows up. He tries to wrestle the stake from me while also snapping his jaws, trying to get close e
nough to bite me, but I kick him away and jump to my feet, all thanks to karate and squats and lunges.

  He launches himself at me so swiftly that he almost runs right into the stake. The vampire halts, hands up.

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you,” I say.

  He says nothing.

  “Why are you here?”

  The vampire sniffs. “Someone who lived here killed my brother.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, but my brother and his wife are dead, and I didn’t do it.”

  “I know you didn’t,” he snaps.

  “So, no revenge for you. Sorry.” I apply pressure on the stake against his throat.

  “Don’t kill me! I… I’ll pay you.”

  “Pay me?”

  “You know. Greenbacks. Bills. Dollars.”

  I nod. He slowly reaches into his pocket and removes a wallet. The vampire holds it out, but I shake my head.

  “Remove the money.”

  He does and hands me over one hundred dollars.

  “Thank you.”

  I pocket the money and slowly lower the stake while also prepared to bring it back up and stab him. Does it have to be through the heart? Because the ribs are kind of in the way. Then again, he sure didn’t like that I held one to his throat.

  The vampire bares his fangs and flies at me. My arm comes up, and I just catch his arm. He hisses.

  “I’m not stupid. You thought that I was an ignorant, greedy human, that I would lower my guard, and that I would be an easy kill so you could take your money back. Nope. Sorry. Not the case.”

  His nostrils flare. His arm is bleeding, and I can’t help being pleased.

  “How about this?” I ask. “You want something done, and I’ll do it. You then let me keep this money for real, and we’ll part our separate ways. I won’t go after you, and you won’t kill me.”

  “What can you do for me?” he scoffs.

  "Do vampires eat? Anything you want me to get you? Is someone annoying you? A friend, maybe? I could play a prank on them. It doesn't have to be anything big."

  “For one hundred dollars—”

  “You’re a vampire. You have money, and if not, then you can just compel a bank teller to give you a ton, right?”