"I suppose… there is something you could do for me. A joke. I used to date a dentist right after I became a vampire. She's one too, but it wasn't meant to be. I want you to go to her work and pretend you're a vampire, but you woke up one day, and your fangs were filed down. The more you embarrass her, the better. You do a good job, and I might pay you more."
“If I do a good job, you tell your friends I’m willing to do jobs for them.”
His delight at the idea of pranking his ex fades away. “Some of my friends… the jobs they’ll want will get your hands dirty.”
I nod toward his arm, which has already healed. “I’m willing.”
So I do it. I go to her office, and I make a scene, and it’s absolutely hilarious. The most fun of all of the jobs I’ve taken on. Utterly ridiculous, but it’s how I opened the door to the supernatural world because those friends that vampire—Darick—introduced me to? Not one of them had been vampires. An elf, a dwarf, a goblin, and an orc. None of their jobs were so entertaining, and my hands started to get dirty.
And that’s how I became a supernatural bounty hunter.
Darick actually gave me a tip. In his eyes, I did such a good job, and it had been hilarious. When Irina—the dentist—realized it was all a joke, she couldn't stop laughing and had to pull me aside away from her patients and staff. Darick entered the room, and they began to yell at each other and then talk and finally kiss.
That’s when I left. Darick hunted me down a few weeks later to pay me. Last I heard, Darick and Irina are on a break again, but they’ve been on and off again the entire time.
I haven’t seen either of them in some time. I wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but if there are vampires I don’t mind, they’re the ones.
Finally, I arrive at the address Morena gave me. I keep on driving and actually swing back around the block a few times to scope out the place. It’s a small house. The neighbors are far enough away that they might not hear any screams. Good.
I park up the block and wait until it’s dark. Then, I leave my car and pull out my phone. It’s dead. Good.
Head down, trying to look depressed, I head to Dillon’s house. Most of the other houses are dark, but his has a light on. Even better.
I knock on the door and bite my lip, doing my best to look nervous and worried.
The door opens, and there he is. Man. That photo doesn’t do him justice. He really is hot. Soon, he’ll be hot and dead.
“Hello?” he asks.
Even his voice is nice and deep.
“Hi, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I have to ask, but… can I borrow your phone? I’m not from around here, and my car broke down, and my phone’s dead.” I hold up the phone as proof. “Your house was the first one I saw with lights on. I don’t mean to bother you. I just… I need help.”
“It’s all right. Everyone has a string of bad luck now and then. Come in.”
“Thank you, but, ah…”
He's already opening his door open wide and gesturing for me to come inside. I hoped to be able to quickly stab him in the gut right by the door.
“If I could just use your cell…” I smile sheepishly. “I’m sure you’re a very nice guy and all, but, ah, the idea of coming into a strange guy’s place…”
He just opens the door a little wider, the creep.
“If you try anything, I’m a black belt,” I warn him.
Dillon laughs. "Do I look that threatening?"
“You look strong. Strong enough to overpower me.”
“I’m sorry you have to think that way. You can stay here. I’ll go grab my cell. It’s on the—”
I kick my leg backward to shut the door and throw one of my daggers at him. He doesn't even turn around. The witch just holds a hand up behind him and blasts my dagger.
Whelp, there goes my take him by surprise plan.
The blast dies down before it can hit anything else, but my dagger is gone.
“What did you do to it?” I ask, gaping at him.
“Why are you trying to kill me?” he retorts.
I scowl and grab one of my guns. Dillon whirls around and does a spin crescent kick, but I duck and aim.
He grabs the top of my gun. “You aren’t going to kill me.”
“Yes, I will,” I say through gritted teeth.
I dash forward with enough force to propel him to walk backward a few steps. He connects his backside with a small table, and mail falls onto the floor.
A ball of purple light forms in his hand, but I’m staring at the mail.
At the name the mail is addressed to.
A name I never heard of before.
“Wait. Your name isn’t Dillon?”
“You’re not going to trick me,” he says.
He unleashes the blast, but I grab his mail, duck, and roll to safety, quickly coming to my feet and standing.
I wave the envelopes. “You aren’t Dillon? I’m being serious. I’m not fighting anymore. Look.” I make a show of putting my gun away.
"What? No, my name isn't Dillon. Why do you think it was?" He jerks back as if burned. "Do you mean that you fought the wrong witch? Are you really that incompe—"
“Do not insult me,” I snap. I grab the photo from my pouch so violently the photo nearly tears. “That’s your face.”
“Yes, it is. Who wants me… Someone wants me dead,” he says slowly.
"Very much so." I eye him and want to ask if he knows who I am, but I don't bother. Either he does, or he doesn't, but it doesn't much matter.
Morena lied to me. Why? What did she hope to gain by lying? Why is nothing ever simple anymore?
“But why go through the trouble of hiring you and then not giving you my name?” Not Dillon shakes his head, eyeing me as if this is all my fault.
I hold up my hands. “Hey, it’s not as if I asked for this. I just do what I’m paid to, and the witch made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“Witch Godfather,” he mumbles.
“Godmother,” I correct.
He rolls his eyes. “What is the witch playing at?”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, “but I intend to find out.”
Chapter 16
“I’m coming with you,” Not Dillon says.
“I don’t think so.” I shove the crinkled photo back into my pouch and start to walk away.
“Hold up.” He hurries to cut me off and grabs my arm.
“Lay off me,” I growl, jerking free and almost punching him in the nose in the process.
“Look. Someone wants me dead. That person clearly doesn’t trust you entirely because why lie? You’re in danger—”
“Every second of my life, I’m in danger,” I say dryly. “Human. Paranormal creatures. It’s a mess.”
“I am sure it is. I don’t even want to know why or how you turned out this way.”
“Good because I’m not telling.”
“But you can’t trust this witch—”
“I didn’t trust the witch even before I found out that the witch lied about your name.”
"Yet, you still tried to kill me."
“Yes.”
“What did he or she promise you? How much?”
“It wasn’t… The witch wasn’t going to pay me in money.”
Not Dillon just gapes at me as I put away my weapon.
“It wasn’t personal,” I assure him. “I’m going to go have a little chat with the witch—”
“You aren’t going anywhere.” The witch reaches for my arm again, but I block him and shove hard against his chest. Although he doesn’t back up from the blow, his eyebrows raise. He knows I’m not a weakling.
“You aren’t going to tell me what to do.” I head to the front door.
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, you aren’t. This is between me and my client.”
“Your client wants me dead! I think I should have a say—”
"The witch made it quite clear that it's personal. Are you trying to tell me that you can't
think of a single person who would want you dead?"
“You’re being very careful to not use any pronouns,” he grumbles.
“So there are men and women who want you dead. Good to know.”
He scowls. “You can’t stop me.”
"From following me? My car isn't really dead, you know."
The witch just shakes his head. “I heard about you, the crazy human who goes around doing crazy and dangerous jobs for paranormal beings. What’s your damage?”
"Because an ordinary and sane person wouldn't do all this." I pause, shrug, and laugh a little. "Okay, so maybe I am a little off the normal path, but do what you're good at. That's what I'm doing."
“Capturing and killing paranormal creatures.”
"Oh, come off it. You guys have an academy filled with students who are trained to become hunters and executioners, so how do you think you can get away with telling me I shouldn't do the same? As far as I'm concerned, all of you are dangerous. I'm helping to protect the humans."
“You’re human yourself, and you’re going to end up killed.”
“Are you going to kill me? I seem to recall our fight was a little evenly matched.”
“That’s because I was trying not to destroy my house!”
“A convenient excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse!” His gray eyes flash with indignation.
I smirk. It’s fun to tease him, but I can’t put off how utterly annoyed I am. Morena’s playing games with me, and I want to know why.
“How about this? You stay here, and I’ll go and see the witch and what’s going on. Then I’ll come back and—”
“You aren’t going to kill me.”
I say nothing.
“If the witch has some stupid reason for giving a fake name—”
“Maybe it’s a test. Maybe the witch will turn around and attack me for not killing you immediately. Maybe—”
“Are you even certain I’m truly the target?” he interrupts. “Yes, you have that picture but—”
“Do you have a twin?”
“No.”
“Your picture and your address. The witch told me to come here.” I throw up my hands. “I’m done talking. We aren’t going to get anywhere because we don’t have all of the answers, and there is no we, so you stay here, and I’ll be going.”
“If you come back here, I will kill you,” he says.
"So, you wouldn't want to hear the witch's reasoning?"
“I don’t give a—”
“You’re lucky the witch sent me instead of someone else and that I’m willing to think and not be controlled by money,” I say quietly. “Someone else wouldn’t have cared about the whole name thing.”
“You said the witch isn’t paying you money. What are you in it for?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I wiggle my fingers in a mocking wave. “It was nice fighting you, but I would’ve won in the end. Oh, and you owe me a dagger.”
“I owe you nothing.”
“That’s what you think.”
His scowl makes him look even hotter, and he runs his hands through his perfect hair. “I don’t think I know a more frustrating female than you,” he complains, “and that’s saying something.”
“You have a lot of frustrating females in your life?”
“One is too many,” he mumbles.
“Well, I’m not a part of your life. Not anymore.”
“But whatever the witch promised you… you desperately want it, and you claim the witch desperately wants me dead…”
“I don’t play games. I want my jobs to be clear cut. She’s not on the clear and narrow with me, so we’re done. No matter what she says, I won’t kill you for her. That’s not to say she won’t hire someone else, but you’re safe from me… so long as I get my dagger back.”
“You can’t. It’s gone.”
I exhale loudly through my nose. That’s two daggers I’ve lost. I really don’t appreciate that.
“Gone how? Disintegrated gone or…”
“It’s hard for a human to understand the complex nature of magic.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, yes, let’s insult the bounty hunter who almost had you.”
“You didn’t—”
“I did.”
“Just go,” he snaps.
“Gladly.”
I can’t help winking at him before I turn around to leave. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop me this time, and I don’t think he heads to his car. Even so, I check the rearview mirror constantly. No one seems to be following me, but he’s a witch. It’s possible he is anyhow. As much as I hate it, he’s right. I don’t understand magic.
Once as sure as I can be that no one is tailing me through normal means, I head to the small floral shop.
The witch isn’t there.
Honestly, I’m not surprised. On the drive back to Pittsburgh, I charged my phone in the car, and I call up one of my informants, a goblin named El.
“Rebel, hello,” he coos in his grating voice. “It has been far too—”
“Can the seduction act,” I snap. “You know we’re never going to get together.”
“Why must you hurt El so?”
“Why are you the only goblin I know to refer to yourself in the third person?” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “I need your help.”
“El will cut down anyone who dares to—”
“I need to know where I can find someone. A witch called Morena Moriarty. She looked like a hag—”
“I know the witch.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“If she’s not at her shop which is—”
“The floral shop? Not there.”
“Then she is most likely at one of her houses.” He provides three addresses—one in Pittsburgh, one in Washington D.C., and one in Paris, France.
It's easy enough to check the Pittsburgh location. No Morena. Not a surprise. Considering she's the one to give me the travel dust, it's not impossible to think she'll make the jump to Paris, but I opt to check out the nation's capital first. It's about a four-hour drive, but I'm too agitated and annoyed to be tired. I don't know what Morena is playing at, but I do not enjoy being a pawn in some game.
This house is on the outskirts of the capital. It’s a beautiful brick home with a well-manicured lawn and so much nicer than the merely okay house back in Pittsburgh.
I stroll up toward the front door, which opens before I even reach it. Morena isn’t in the doorway, and I don’t walk inside.
“Morena, enough games. Come out and talk to me. I didn’t do the job because you kept something from me. What’s that you asked? Oh, just his real name. If you don’t start talking and explaining why you deceived me…”
The witch materializes in front of me. I shiver. Magic. For the most part, it doesn’t bother me, and I’m not jealous that I don’t have it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect it. Magic is powerful.
“That witch,” Morena spits out, “killed my sister. No, I didn’t tell you his real name because I was worried you would look him up.”
“And he’s some great guy?” I ask dubiously.
“He’s a paranormal executioner. Was.” Her smile is tiny and cruel. “He was a paranormal executioner. I didn’t want you to be scared off.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. “No. You used me. You wanted me to find out. You wanted me to come back to you. All this time, you didn’t want me to kill him. You wanted me to bring him to you.”
“Morena,” he says, his deep voice taking on a cool tone, much cooler than any he used with me.
He comes up to stand beside me, and I shift away from him. We aren’t a united front against Morena, if that’s what he’s trying to imply.
“You’re a liar,” he continues, his tone even colder now.
“You killed my sister, and I will kill you!”
Morena throws a vial at her feet. Red mist swirls at her feet and rises to encompass her entire body.
The witch holds his hands apart. A purple ball forms. Is it light? Energy? Something else? I’m not sure, but he throws it into the swirling mist. The impact causes the ground to tremble.
He races into the house. Morena isn’t anywhere to be seen, but that doesn’t stop him from racing up the stairs.
And he’s right. Morena appears at the top of the staircase. Draped across her shoulders is a large snake that she pours a potion onto. The snake falls off her shoulders and grows and grows and grows, stopping only after it encompasses the width of the staircase. Its fangs are massive, and it tries to bite or swallow the witch.
He ignores the snake, sending blast after blast at Morena, who somehow deflects them with inside and outside blocks, the blast causing her metal arm sleeves to glow, the long, draping sleeves of her dress falling down her arms.
But the snake isn’t ignoring him. He’s barely moving out of the way in time to avoid its strikes, and this time, the snake is going to get him. He’s too distracted. The witch will die, Morena will win, and I just don’t know if I want that.
Muttering a curse to myself, I retrieve a dagger, flip it into the air, catch it, and throw it. The dagger flies through the air, enters the snake's gaping maw, and buries itself deep into the back of its mouth. The snake wiggles and writhes, slamming its tail. Morena's balance wavers, and that's all the witch needs. He blasts her with his magic. Her body convulses from the force, but she isn't giving up yet. I don't know why she isn't blasting him back, but all she's been using are potions, and she removes another one. Before she can drink it, the witch hits her with smaller balls of magic. The onslaught causes the potion to fall onto the floor at her feet, the vial shattering, the liquid spraying everywhere.
“No!” she cries, but soon, she’s giving a death shrill as the witch’s next blast is almost as large as Morena is tall. The blast entirely engulfs her, and by the time the magic fades away, she collapses to the ground and doesn’t move.
Instead of Morena killing the witch, he killed her with my help, and only time will tell if I made the right choice by interfering.
Chapter 17
The witch turns to look at me. He’s drained considerably, his face pale, his stance slumped. He looks ready to collapse himself.
Hunter's Quest: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Rebel, Supernatural Bounty Hunter Book 1) Page 10
