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

by Nicole Zoltack

  “Perfect.” I rub my hands together. “I would love to meet her.”

  “It’ll depend on if she’s out on assignment or not,” Azir says.

  "She's a workaholic," Darius says. "She doesn't have much downtime. Always wanting to execute the next as if she has something to prove."

  “She’s an overachiever, but that’s just because she’s capable,” Ruka says.

  “I know a bit about being a workaholic,” I say, “although I have on occasion not accepted a job.”

  “And even rejected and later accepted.” Azir grins. “I can’t thank you enough. Oh, we haven’t talked about payment.”

  I smile and spread my hand to encompass the table. “Handle the bill, and we’re square.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” I say firmly. “Oh, and give me Mirella’s number. Please.”

  Chapter 20

  The witch I’m supposedly going to get along with lives all the way out in California, or at least that’s where she is for the moment. Her phone only rings once before she answers.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mirella?”

  “Yes? Who is this?”

  “Hi, I’m Rebel. I—”

  “Rebel? The bounty hunter?”

  “Supernatural bounty hunter,” I correct with a grin.

  I’m tucked away in a back room of the bar so I can have a semblance of privacy and also so I can hear. Vinca’s mom directed me here. She’s really taken me under her wing, and I so appreciate that. I don’t have a lot of role models in my life. A mom of a friend is a great one to have, but it also makes me miss my mom that much more.

  “I’m sorry I’m calling so late,” I add.

  “It’s not that late her,” she says. “No worries.”

  Oh, duh. The time zone. Three hours difference.

  “Why are you calling?” she asks.

  “Azir and Ruka gave me your number. I hope that’s all right. They tell me you’re one of the best witches there is, both powerful and brilliant.”

  “It sounds to me like Azir wants something,” she remarks and laughs.

  “Not that I know of, but he’s so happy right now.”

  “Oh? No! Did Ruka finally agree to go out with him?”

  “Yes.”

  Mirella squeals. “That’s wonderful!”

  “Malak doesn’t still have a crush on Ruka, does he?”

  “Oh, no. He’s married to a minotaur.”

  “A troll and a minotaur.” My mind is blown.

  “I’m with a spriggan so…”

  I’ve never seen a spriggan, but I know they’re part fairy, troll, and giant. I guess all kinds of paranormals date outside of their species. Why not?

  “Do you know Malak?” she continues.

  “Only by name.” I hesitate. “Your friends are right.”

  “About?”

  “Us getting along.”

  “Did Azir say we would?”

  “Yes.” I pause and then add, “Darius too.”

  “Darius,” she murmurs. “How is he?”

  “Infuriating,” I say dryly.

  Mirella bursts out laughing. “That sounds like Darius all right!”

  “And he has the nerve to try to claim that I’m the infuriating one!”

  “Hmm. So, Rebel, did you just call to see if we could be friends or…”

  “I’m sorry. There’s a reason for it. I need your help.”

  “What do you need?”

  "Two things, actually. A witch I don't exactly trust gave me a potion. Darius killed her actually. Anyhow, before she died, she tried to get me to drink it, but I refused. It has an eye of cyclops, a tear of a mermaid, a stomach of a dragon, and other ingredients too. I would like to know what it is. Depending on what the potion is, I might sell it."

  “Interesting,” she murmurs. “I would need to see the potion to study it. You were smart to not drink it. Who knows what it could do to you.”

  “Stupid bounty hunters don’t live very long.”

  “You’ve been in the business, what, five years now?”

  “Longer.”

  “Oh, wow. I find it so interesting that witches and other beings would rather hire you than do their dirty work themselves.”

  “Not all of the work is dirty, and a few have even told me they just want to see if a human can do it. It’s a game to them.”

  “A gamble with your life.” She tsks her tongue. “What’s the other thing you need help with?”

  “I… I would rather ask in person.”

  “Of course. How soon can you be out here?”

  “That depends on flights.” I glance up to see Vinca there. “Can you hold on a second, Mirella?”

  “Sure.”

  I nod to Vinca.

  The fairy grins. “I just popped in to tell my mom something, and she mentioned you were back here. Flights? Where are you going?”

  “California.”

  “I can take you there like that.” She snaps her fingers.

  “You can?”

  “Special dust,” she says. “I’ll go grab you some.”

  I grin. “Thank you,” I call, but she’s already left the room. “I’m back,” I say into the phone. “A fairy is going to give me some dust so I can be there in no time at all.”

  “Perfect,” Mirella says. “Not all fairies make dust, but to befriend one who does is very smart.”

  “I didn’t even know fairy dust could do that. I thought it could just heal.”

  “It depends on the dust,” Mirella explains.

  “It’s all so boggling,” I mutter.

  The witch laughs. “You don’t have to tell me about that! My parents died when I was a baby, so I didn’t even know I was a witch until I was sixteen and recruited for Magical Hunters Academy.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I say died. They had been murdered.”

  "I'm even sorrier. Wow."

  “They were paranormal executioners, and the job caught up to them. It happens, but it will not rule my life. Kayden and I are trying to start a family.”

  “Wow. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. It wasn’t an easy decision, and I waffled back and forth about it. Every time I thought maybe we should, we would be assigned to go after a demonic serial killer or a satyr serial rapist, someone so disgusting that it made me question wanting to bring a life into this world.”

  "So, why do you?"

  “In the hopes of helping to make the world a better place,” she says simply. “Plus, as much as I hate it, Kayden and I have new partners. I love working side-by-side with him, but if we have a child and a job goes wrong, I do not want the baby to be orphaned like I was.”

  “It sounds like you have everything all figured out.”

  She laughs. “Hardly. Every day is a new adventure, though.”

  “And you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  “Nope. You’re the same, aren’t you?”

  “Definitely.” I grin and look up to see Vinca in the hallway. She hands me a small vial filled with silver dust, gives me a hug and a wave, and leaves. “Okay, dust in hand. Where exactly are you?”

  “In my apartment. Stargaze Apartments.” She gives me the address.

  “The others were talking about how a lot of executioners don’t live in houses.”

  "Kayden and I are house hunting, but we need to figure out which state we want to live in. We've been all over the U.S. for our job, and we can't settle on a state, let alone a city. Where are you?"

  “I live just outside of Pittsburgh.”

  “Ah. Pennsylvania. Either major cities or wide-open country land.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Why are we still on the phone? Come on over and bring the potion.”

  “I have it right here with me. See you soon.”

  I hang up and pat my pouch. I can’t say why I’ve kept that potion on me at all times. Curiosity? Worry that it’ll fall into the wrong hands? Whatever the reason
, I’m glad I have it now so I don’t have to go and fetch it.

  Only after I sprinkle myself with the travel dust do I realize I never said goodbye to the others. Oh, well. They’ll be able to figure out I’ve gone.

  When I open my eyes, I’m standing in front of a tall, modern-looking apartment complex. I head inside and make my way to room 342.

  Mirella’s door is open, and I walk inside a small space.

  “Yes, it’s tiny,” she says with a laugh. “California is not a cheap place to live, so we’re thinking of moving away.”

  She surprises me by giving me a hug.

  “Any friend of my friends is a friend of mine,” she says.

  “Even if I’m a bounty hunter and have killed—”

  “We’ve all killed,” she says softly. “Besides, after we got off the phone, I texted Ruka. You didn’t tell me you saved her!”

  “No big deal. I was hired to do it.”

  Mirella shakes her head. “You aren’t fooling anyone. You have a soft heart.”

  “I’m not weak!”

  “Being soft and being weak aren’t the same things.”

  I’m not so sure about that, but I don’t argue and hand her the potion. She uncorks it and tentatively sniffs.

  “I’ll see what I can learn,” she says. “I’m in between jobs right now, but I can get an assignment at any time. Please, sit.” She waves to a couch.

  I shake my head. I’m too anxious to sit.

  “Can I get you anything to eat? Drink?” she asks as she places the potion on her glass coffee table.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not,” she says gently. “I can sense how nervous and uptight you are. You don’t have to be frightened.”

  “I’m not frightened. I just… Do you know Myrtle Von Stein?”

  “The witch? Yes. She likes to sell her potions. Not many witches like her, to be honest.”

  “Why? Because she sells to humans?”

  Mirella nods. She’s still standing, probably because I am.

  “Sell potions for an exuberant amount of money,” I mutter.

  “What do you want from her?” Mirella asks curiously.

  “My brother and his wife had been murdered. I don’t know what did it even though I was there. My mind might be blocked. To pay a potion that will unlock my mind without me going crazy… she wants a million dollars.”

  “A million? That’s insane.”

  “I’m almost halfway to that amount.”

  “Rebel, no. Don’t.”

  “How much would you charge? I almost feel—No, I do feel more comfortable with you than I ever did with Myrtle. She’s all old school and strict. She reminds me of a nun who would rap your knuckles with a ruler if you weren’t holding the pen correctly.”

  Mirella laughs. “I would charge exactly zero dollars.”

  “What? No. That’s not how—”

  “Rebel,” she says softly. “That’s exactly how it works, and my friends—our friends—are right. We are very much alike, and we can be so very close.”

  “Your parents…”

  She nods. “I became obsessed with finding their killer.”

  “Did you?”

  Mirella has a faraway look in her eyes. After a moment, she blinks and smiles. “Don’t worry about me and my past. Let’s focus on yours. Sit.”

  This time, it’s an order, and I obey.

  “Do you need any special ingredients for the spell?”

  She winces. “I can’t do spells.”

  “What kind of a witch can’t do… I mean, oh. Um, for the potion?”

  Mirella laughs. "I'm sorry. Let me explain. There are ten different kinds of magic a witch can perform, but most only have one or two kinds. I have a few more than most, but spells? That I can't do."

  “Oh, wow. So a potion then?”

  “No. I’ll just need some candles and a few herbs to burn, but that’s it.”

  “That’s it,” I say flatly. “That charlatan! If I ever see her again—”

  “Don’t worry about her, and calm down,” Mirella calls from the next room.

  She returns with a bunch of stuff that she dumps onto her coffee table. In no time at all, candles are lit, and she’s ground a lot of herbs in a small bowl. She holds the bowl above one of the candles, and a strange, sweet smell arises with the purple wisps of smoke.

  “Think back to that day,” she says, her voice soft. “I want you to picture everything you remember, your clothes, your brother…”

  As soon as I close my eyes, I’m transported back. It feels different. It’s more I’m reliving the day instead of remembering. I can taste the vanilla cake with peanut butter buttercream icing. It’s as decadent as I remember.

  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—”

  I’m jerked back to the present.

  My eyes fly open. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Mirella sounds as frustrated as I feel. “It’s as if there’s a wall blocking that memory.”

  “Can you smash through it?”

  “I’ll try.”

  And she does. So many times. Different herbs. With the candles and without. All kinds of different methods but it doesn’t matter. The results are always the same.

  Finally, Mirella shifts back from kneeling to sitting on her legs. “I think it’s not a wall. Your memory isn’t blocked. It’s gone. You have no memory.”

  “Which means it can’t be recovered.”

  “No. I’m afraid not. I’m so sorry, Rebel.”

  Numb, I nod. This is just par for the course, and I just wish this game of life would end.

  Chapter 21

  Vinca, of course, gave me enough dust to return home, but Mirella insists that I spend the night. The couch is a pullout bed, but I don’t sleep much at all. I’m too frustrated and upset. There’s basically no way for me to learn who did it. If I can’t… my quest will go unfinished, my revenge never fulfilled… And without either driving me, I feel lost. Who am I if I’m not Rebel? Does Rebel only exist for revenge?

  Mirella makes me chocolate chip pancakes, and we talk about anything and everything but what we tried and failed to accomplish last night. It’s frightening how similar we are and yet so dissimilar too. Mirella’s far too modest at first to admit it, but she can control nine of the ten types of magic, all but spells. She’s mastered most of them and is still working on the others. As far as witches go, she’s as powerful as they come. Me? I’m just a human. I shouldn’t have a toe in their world, but I’ve jumped in with both feet, tumbling headfirst.

  “I let my revenge consume me for a time,” Mirella says softly. “If you ever want to talk, call me. I might be busy, but I will get back to you as soon as I can. And I’ll work on discovering what that potion is. A cyclops’ eye, a dragon’s stomach… Those are potent ingredients. The potion has to be something powerful.”

  “And potentially dangerous.”

  “More than likely.”

  “Thank you for everything, Mirella.”

  “It’s been a pleasure, Rebel. You’ll have to come back sometime and meet Kayden.”

  “I would love that.”

  We hug, and I use the dust and leave. I arrive in my bedroom, and a crash in my living room has my heart racing. My daggers are out as I burst from my room.

  Amad, in his teal-colored genie form, backs away from my bookcase. An entire room is on the floor.

  “What are you doing?” I demand as I sheath only one of my daggers.

  “I’m here to hire you again.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “I will pay you.”

  “I don’t…” I ey
e him, and an idea comes to me—a terrible, wonderful idea. “I don’t want money.”

  “I will pay in dollars.”

  “No.”

  “You name the price. I will pay it.”

  “I don’t want to be paid in money. I want a wish. One wish.”

  He grinds his razor-sharp teeth. “Genies do not grant wishes.”

  I know he claimed that before, but I’m hoping I’m right—that it’s just a claim of his and not a fact. Genies won’t want to be used and controlled and abused for their wishes. I get that. Better to lie and say it’s a myth than to go down that slippery slope.

  But I need a wish so very badly. It might be my only chance at learning who or what killed my brother and his wife.

  “Yes, you do,” I say firmly.

  “When djinn dream, people die.”

  I swallow hard. “What?”

  “When djinn dream, people die.”

  “What does that have to do with wishes?”

  Amad stares me down for so long that I think he won’t answer me. Finally, he professes, “Wishes claim the lives of the wisher.”

  I blink several times. “If I wish for another wish to not kill me or anyone else…”

  “That would work, but you would need two wishes.”

  “So grant me two wishes for whatever you want me to do.”

  He shakes his head. “I cannot.”

  “Why not?” I demand angrily.

  “I am bound by my magic, and as such, there are rules to be followed, rules as unbreakable as gravity.”

  “But you…” I gesture to his smoky lower half.”

  “Gravity has a hold on me even in this form.”

  “Fine,” I grumble. “So think of something else for me to do after this first task so I can have two wishes.”

  “Very well, but to be granted your first wish, all you have to do is something rather simple.”

  His hesitation lasts so long I prompt, “And it is…”

  He holds out his arm. In his palm is the fang I gave him from the vampire. Confused, I accept it.

  “You must kill the rest of the Blood Moon pack.”

  “What? No. No way. Not happening.”

  “This is not a test,” Amad says.

  “I don’t care. Test or not—”