Hollywood Witch Hunter

by Valerie Tejeda

  Arlo squinted his eyes and nodded. Iris set off, charging Arlo at a full sprint. She cocked her arm and prepared to strike, but before she could land a shot, Arlo dodged with surprising speed, grabbing her arm and hurtling her toward the ground.

  Iris caught his ankle on her way down and pulled his leg out from under him. They both went crashing to the floor.

  “Okay. That was freaking awesome.” Arlo laughed as they both lay on the mat, panting and out of breath.

  “Not bad, WHOR. Not bad.” Iris was pleased the training was going well. She didn’t want to have to call on Deacon or one of the other Hunters for help. That would be embarrassing.

  “So, do you guys ever get like horribly injured?” His breath was finally steady.

  “Oh. All the time.” Iris smiled. “But we have a recovery serum shot—a healing injection we carry with us in case something goes off plan. Technically it’s a concentrated Curas spell. It won’t bring you back from the dead, but it could save your life.”

  “Off plan? What does that even mean?”

  Iris almost didn’t want to tell him. But there was no getting around it. Witch hunting was a dangerous lifestyle. “Well, a couple of months ago Knox got stabbed by a witch all the way down to his bone. I wasn’t there but Dex said it was horrific.” She propped herself up on her elbows.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Arlo interrupted. “Witches carry weapons?”

  “Well, with their spells, they don’t really need to. But certain Matas have nails that can turn into claws as sharp as the animals’ they summon. Knox’s stab wound was pretty bad. If he didn’t give himself the injection, he would have been dead. And let me tell you, that shot is a bitch!” She shuddered. “We do heal quicker than normal, but if it’s a bad injury the serum is enough to get us back on our feet, or at the very least, buy us enough time to get back here to our doctors. We have some of the brightest medical minds in the world—The White Coats—right here in the Bently Fortress.”

  “Hmm.” Arlo scrunched his face. “Is that why I never really got hurt much as a kid? ’Cause I had the gene and didn’t know it?”

  “Probably.”

  The two lay on a mat in the gym and carried on for some time. Iris told Arlo war stories, occasionally slapping him on the shoulder as they laughed. It was nice. So much better than the last few days.

  “The White Coats also helped develop our Hunter vehicle. The Armada is strong enough as it is, but with bulletproof windows and an arsenal of hunting weapons, it’s the closest thing you’ll find to a witch-proof vehicle,” Iris said, proudly.

  “That has to be the coolest thing I’ve ever heard of,” Arlo gasped, holding up his hand for a high five that he did not receive.

  “Hey, let me see your hands,” she said, grabbing for Arlo’s palm.

  “Dude, what are you doing?”

  “What’s with all the calluses?” she asked, turning Arlo’s hands over as she examined them.

  “I’m a guitar player, remember?” Arlo replied. “Been playing since I was old enough to hold one.”

  “That’s right,” Iris said, staring at the ceiling. “Hmm…”

  “What are you thinking?” Arlo asked. His eyes narrowed.

  Iris jumped to her feet. There was something about his hands that sparked a thought and she wanted to put her theory to the test.

  “All right, I think I have an idea. Come with me.” She motioned with her hand.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To our archery range outside.” She beamed. “You don’t seem like a gun guy, but I have a feeling you’d be good with a bow.”

  “I’m gonna try and take that as a compliment.”

  They made their way out the door and Iris basked in the warm sunlight as it found her skin. She took in a deep breath of freshly cut grass bonding with light notes of a hot asphalt. It was a surprisingly pleasant scent.

  “All right, the archery range is … just … over …” Iris was suddenly light-headed. Her heart raced and her palms were cold and wet. The sky above her was spinning, and before she could steady herself she collapsed to the ground.

  Everything around her went black and flashes of the murder scene played in her head like a rapidly flicking slide show. She saw the house of the actress and images of what she looked like hours before she died. She remembered keeping watch from inside The Armada from a couple of houses down. The actress was laughing and talking on the phone to someone. She was so young. So bright.

  Then, something different flashed in Iris’s mind. It wasn’t a memory, and it wasn’t her vision in the cemetery. This time she was lying in a barren desert, the hot sun beating against her body. Her Hunter gear was off, and she was in just a T-shirt and jeans. Arlo sat next to her and even in her daydream, her heart began to flutter.

  He trailed his fingers down her cheeks, brushing over her lips ever so lightly. His touch made her tremble and sent a series of sparks down her spine. He grabbed the small of her back and she jolted, letting out a soft whimper. He pulled her face closer, hovering his lips over her mouth and—

  “Iris! Are you okay?” Arlo said, kneeling beside her and jerking her awake. “Can you hear me?”

  Iris blinked her eyes, narrowing in on Arlo’s face. She grabbed the collar of Arlo’s shirt, pulling his firm body on top of hers. His face softened and his eyes flickered while he tried to resist her grip.

  “Iris,” he whispered near her ear. “What are you doing?”

  She felt the itchy grass against her skin, realizing quickly that she was no longer in the desert. She pushed Arlo off her, crossing her arms and dramatically hiding her face. She was mortified.

  “Oh my god,” she mumbled. “What just happened?”

  “You just fell, out of nowhere. Are you feeling all right?”

  She was surprised Arlo left out that she just grabbed his neck and tried to kiss him. But she was glad that he did. “I’m feeling fine,” Iris lied. Physically she was up to par, but mentally, she was in a whole different space. “We need to get back to training,” she said, hopping to her feet.

  “Um … I don’t think so. Not after you collapsed like that.”

  Arlo extended his hand and Iris slapped it away, jumping to her feet in one swift motion. “No really, I’ll be okay.” She was not about to make a fool out of herself as a trainer.

  “Look,” Arlo said, putting his hand on her arm. After the hot vision in the desert, Iris instinctively moved away. “Why don’t we just go get some lunch. Maybe Rodeo Drive? I haven’t been there since I was a kid.”

  “Rodeo Drive?” Iris said with a smirk. “Tourist, much?”

  “Well, I am from out of town.” He bit his lip. “Come on,” he pleaded, tugging at her hand. “I’ll take you to lunch and then we can get back to training. Are you into seafood?”

  “Seafood? Oh Lord. No.” Iris cringed. She hated fish almost as much as she hated witches. “But I wouldn’t mind some coffee and maybe a pastry at La Patisserie Artistique?” she bargained with a small smile.

  “Deal.”

  Fourteen

  It was a sunny fall afternoon in Los Angeles, topping off at a comfortable seventy-eight degrees. Iris and Arlo strolled down Rodeo Drive, coffee in hand, steering clear of a swarm of paparazzi that were stalking some celebrity they couldn’t quite make out.

  “Man. This place is amazing, right?” Arlo said, gazing around the posh street filled with high-fashion boutiques and lush palm trees.

  “If you say so.” Iris shrugged her shoulders. “To me, it’s just witch bait central.”

  “Ha. Well, you’re right about that. Did you see how ‘Miss Fake Tits’ over there yelled at her driver?”

  “I know, right? The worst. By the way.” Iris stopped and turned toward Arlo. “You look pretty cool in your hunting gear.” Iris could feel her skin lightly tingling. Even though Arlo wasn’t officially trained as a Hunter yet, Iris thought it was “unsafe” to go to a witch hot spot like Rodeo Drive without the added pro
tection. Plus, Iris kind of wanted to see what Arlo would look like in a moto leather jacket and leather combat pants.

  “I’m digging the gear,” he said, looking down at his clothes. “It’s very spy-ish but the jacket also makes me feel like I’m joining a motorcycle gang. And these glasses … So Top Gun, but more like ‘Top Secret Gun.’” He popped his jacket collar.

  Iris laughed. He gave a bump to her side and their bodies grazed for just a few seconds. Things seemed normal enough. He wasn’t acting weird post Iris-tried-to-kiss-him. If anything, she was the one who felt strange about it.

  Iris concluded that the vision of her and Arlo in the desert was a side effect from the Protas searching her mind yesterday. Made sense. But that couldn’t explain why she’d been having the visions of the cemetery. Regardless, hanging out with Arlo was a breath of fresh air. He was cool, she thought. I’m glad he’s here.

  Her phone buzzed and she looked down to find a missed call from Silos. Iris flinched and a smile tugged at her mouth. She hadn’t talk to him since they met for coffee.

  “Who was that?” Arlo asked, as a confused look spread across his face.

  “Um. Nobody,” Iris said, stuffing her phone back in her pocket.

  She was silent longer than she intended and noticed Arlo was peering at her. “So our glasses,” she said, trying to stay focused. “We all wear them. And besides the Idas spells imbedded inside, and the thermal imaging properties, they’re made with real glass too, which helps impede a witch’s hypnotic abilities—something my ancestors discovered when they had a stare down with a witch through a stained-glass window and nothing happened.”

  “That’s pretty genius,” he said, taking off his aviators. He examined them closely before placing them back on his face. “But hey, no need to get all Obi-Wan Kenobi. Let’s leave the training talk back at the Fortress.”

  Iris huffed. “Fine.”

  Before they could take another step, bruma poured through Rodeo Drive like a spirit from beyond the grave. It clouded shop windows and darkened the beautiful sunny day around the shopping center.

  “Great,” Iris said to Arlo. “Looks like we have some unwelcome visitors.”

  “Ew! Freaking Hunters.”

  Iris heard a familiar voice and turned around to find Belinda with Levana and Renpa by her side. They strutted almost in unison, swinging their hips with a bounce in their step like models on a catwalk.

  Awesome.

  “What are you doing here?” Iris said with a sigh. Another encounter with Belinda was the last thing she needed.

  “We can’t keep running into each other like this,” Belinda playfully said. “But Rodeo Drive? Really? I never pegged you for a high-fashion kind of girl.”

  “You can’t even spell fashion, let alone wear it,” Renpa said, laughing hysterically.

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Arlo chimed in, scrunching his face as he turned toward Iris.

  “Typical,” Iris spat. “Witches are not the sharpest creatures in the mythical toolbox.”

  Renpa’s laughter abruptly cut off and she glared at Iris, raising a brow and zooming in on her forehead.

  “Don’t even try it. It won’t work,” Iris said, tapping her glasses and giving Renpa a challenging smirk.

  Renpa’s eyes narrowed. “I may not be able to put my spiders inside of you,” she seethed, “but believe me, I can put them around you and on top of you. I mean, every part of you isn’t protected, am I right?”

  Renpa stretched out her hands and dozens of small black widow spiders crawled out from her sleeves and into her hands. Iris shuddered.

  “Not here,” Belinda ordered sternly. Renpa snarled, but quickly made her lethal playmates disappear. “And who is this?” Belinda said, turning her attention to Arlo. “Is this your new little W.H.O.R.?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Iris replied, crossing her arms.

  “Oh come on,” Belinda wooed in a silky tone. “You know we love the new recruits.”

  “Yes, please!” Renpa shouted. “Tell us about your new toy.”

  “He’s not my toy, he’s a Hunter,” Iris spat, tightening her jaw. She watched Arlo shift uncomfortably.

  “Wait!” Levana’s head snapped toward a small boutique. Her nostrils flared and she shivered from head to toe. “Ooh, she’s a goodie,” she said in a breathy voice, her eyes fluttering. “Do you feel that, girls? Do you feel how money hungry she is? That girl doesn’t care about anyone but herself.” She pointed toward the young, brown-haired woman with obviously spray-tanned skin.

  Iris observed the woman from outside the store. She was covered in couture and cradled a large, black YSL bag in her right hand. In her left was a jewel-encrusted cell phone.

  “Would you hurry the hell up?” the woman barked at the store clerk. “I’m paying you to be fast and you’re just taking your sweet time!”

  “I … I’m so sorry, ma’am,” the female clerk stammered. “I was just getting you some champagne. We only have the best for our customers.” Her hands trembled as she poured from the bottle.

  “I’ll take that.” The woman swiped the glass full of bubbly. “Now hurry up. I’ve got things to do, okay? I really don’t have time for this!”

  Iris curled her lip, slowly shaking her head from side to side. The woman was shallow, self-centered, and just … gross.

  “She’s perfect,” Levana whispered, a smile playing on her lips. “A total bitch. I’m due for another sacrifice in two days. Please,” she pleaded at Belinda. “Please let me snag her.”

  Iris swallowed hard. Her stomach was doing gymnastics. “You know I’m not going to let that happen, right?”

  “Oh come on, why not?” Levana asked like a child. “Like the world is going to be so much better with this spoiled brat still alive.”

  Iris ignored her. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind. “Hey,” Arlo asked. “You okay? You’re not feeling light-headed again, are you?”

  “Hold on.” Iris held up her hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  She walked away from the front of the boutique and saw a middle-aged man sitting on a bench outside. He had gray, wispy hair, a long, unkempt beard, and was licking at the swirling colors of his oversize lollipop. In his other hand he held an unopened treat of the same kind.

  What’s with that guy? she thought as she peered more intensely.

  But then, a pain crept into her stomach. An energy emanated from this stranger. The more she stared at the man, the more intense her pain became. She swallowed back the acid that was beginning to rise to the top of her throat.

  She watched as he carefully eyed the passing children as if hunting for unsuspecting prey. He licked his lips with a sinister smile as they passed him by.

  Then it hit her like a sledgehammer to the chest—this man was pure evil. Perverted. Monstrous. A total creeper.

  “Iris, are you all right?” asked Arlo, coming up next to her. “What are you staring at?”

  “Arlo, that man is evil,” Iris said, trembling. “I don’t know why, but I can sense it. I think he’s going to hurt someone. We have to do something.”

  “All right. Well, what should we—”

  “What are you two talking about?” Belinda hissed, sneaking up beside them.

  “That man,” Iris whispered, tilting her head in his direction, “on the bench. Something is up with him. I think he’s like a total perv or something.”

  “Oh come on,” Belinda said, staring in his direction. “You probably think everyone’s a perv, you prude.” Suddenly, Belinda stopped. Her gaze sharpened and her skin turned white as snow. “You know, there is something majorly wrong with that man. I can sense it.”

  “Why?” Iris wore a look of surprise. “What do you know?” she asked.

  “Even I don’t hurt children.” Belinda’s cavalier demeanor evaporated as she stared at the man. She pensively furrowed her eyebrows, balling her hands into fists. The lights in the nearby stores flickered.

&nbs
p; “Belinda, if there is something wrong, I need to stop him before he hurts an innocent person. Tell me what you see!” Iris demanded.

  Belinda clenched her hands tighter and a quiet growl rumbled in her throat. The flickering lights burned a bright white before exploding. The snobby woman at the counter shrieked as the nearby boutique was showered in glowing embers.

  The man on the bench started to shake. He looked toward Iris with fear-stricken eyes. Frothy foam seeped from his wide-open mouth, trickling down his chin. He looked like he was trying to scream, but nothing came out.

  His chest heaved violently and he slid from his seat, falling lifelessly toward the ground. His head slammed against the pavement with a dull thud. He twitched; then his body seized and locked up. A gurgling noise escaped him and he moaned softly before his heart finally gave out.

  He was dead.

  Shoppers on the streets of Rodeo Drive clasped their hands to their mouths and screamed.

  Seconds later, a woman carrying an armful of shopping bags collapsed. She too convulsed and foamed at the mouth. The snobby woman in the boutique was next to go.

  “What is wrong with you?” Iris screamed, unsheathing her golden blade.

  “I didn’t do this!” Belinda frantically looked around. “I would never do something this stupid or messy.”

  “I find that hard to believe considering how they all just dropped to the ground.” Iris curled her lip and pointed the knife at Belinda. “Plus, the seizing? You could have taken their oxygen or something to make that happen!”

  “Hey, this is not one of my spells,” Belinda said, taking a step back, “and why do you even care? You’re the one who said he was some psycho.”

  “Okay.” Iris stepped back. “I can sort of understand you killing the perv. I mean, I would have rather had him arrested, but okay.” Iris paused. “But those other women? Around all these people? My God, Belinda, what is wrong with you!”

  Iris was trembling, but not from fear. She paced toward Belinda, clinching her fingers around the hilt of her blade.

  Belinda crouched slightly and stared at Iris, bringing her to a halt. “You need to freaking let up,” Belinda barked. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to. Don’t forget how powerful I am and how I could kill you with the snap of my fingers, crushing your insignificant skull to pieces with one of my tornados.”