Hollywood Witch Hunter

by Valerie Tejeda

  This was not going to be easy.

  Before checking the room, Iris made a stop at the pool area. Something was pulling her there. Something she’d never felt before.

  The infamous lounge looked like a Caribbean resort with cabanas, pink hacienda walls, and tropical gardens. There was a bar and a posh restaurant, and the pool water looked as clear as the Hawaiian sea. A whiff of pineapple and mango filled the air, masking the pungent smell of the pool’s chlorine. More than anything, Iris was concerned with how many bystanders were there.

  She made a quick turn. A few more steps, and then she saw him.

  He was sitting on a striped lounge chair staring at his cell phone and running his hands through his chocolate-brown hair. Iris could have sworn his shiny green eyes seemed brighter today, and even in her somber state, he brought a grin to her face.

  Arlo jumped up and ran toward Iris. He looked concerned and joyful all at the same time.

  “Iris, what are you doing here? I was so upset when you left! I’ve tried to call you like a million times.” His eyes darkened. “What’s wrong? Iris … are you okay?”

  She peered at him, her eyes glazing over. The hole in her chest was deep. So deep in fact, that she wondered if anything could ever possibly fill it. So much had happened. So much she needed to say. She didn’t know where to begin.

  “Iris … what is it?” He grabbed her hands in his and clutched them closely to his chest. “You can tell me, Iris. You can tell me anything … What’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t look his direction anymore. Her heart fell to her knees. The sorrow of what was to come overwhelmed her. She had a feeling all of their lives were about to change.

  Iris couldn’t find her words and she could barely feel her body. Arlo reached up and wiped the lone tear from her cheek. He inched closer and she could fell his breath on her face. She sighed and embraced the moment she’d been craving since the minute she met Arlo at the airport.

  He pulled her closer, finding her lips and covering them with his. The moment their mouths touched her body jolted with electricity all the way down to her toes. She threw her arms around his neck, grabbing his hair and consuming even more of him in the process. Arlo wrapped his hands around her waist, and Iris was overcome with a wave of desire and excitement.

  His lips moved down her neck and then back to her mouth with the perfect mix of passion and sweetness. For a moment, Iris forgot where she was. There were no witches, no Hunters, no “save the world” dilemmas. It was just her and Arlo.

  Nothing else mattered.

  They finally separated and Iris met Arlo’s eyes with a fiery intensity.

  “Arlo … I …” She paused.

  “Oh my God,” he said, staring past her. Iris turned around and saw Belinda standing at the other end of the pool area. She wore tight jeans and an even tighter long-sleeved white blouse. Her bright pink cheeks stood out even against her cherry-red lips. She stared at Iris with a menacing look.

  “Belinda!” Iris yelled, running toward her. “I need to talk to you!”

  “Iris, what the hell?” the witch spewed. “You left and said you weren’t coming with us to Burbank and now you’re getting it on with Arlo by the pool—”

  “It’s not what you think,” Iris interrupted, raising her hands. “You need to listen to me very carefully,” she said with haste.

  Belinda rolled her eyes, giggling and sauntering closer. She was just inches away from Iris’s face. “Why would I ever listen to you?”

  “Because my dad is trying to kill you!” Iris yelled, “and I’m trying to stop him!”

  “I don’t believe you!” Belinda seethed through a tight jaw. “You’re a Hunter.” She turned to walk away.

  Iris went after her, grabbing her arm and turning Belinda toward her. “I know,” Iris said softly. “But you need to listen to me. Arlo is not a Hunter. He’s a Lixi. Wava is one too.”

  “A Lixi.” Belinda’s lavender eyes raced. “Can’t they borrow magic?”

  “Yes! That’s why your spells are amplified.” Iris tried to explain as fast as she could. She knew she was running out of time.

  She stared at the ground before she peered at Belinda with determination. “Is this what you want? To have all these innocent witches and humans die because you were pissed you didn’t get some part years ago? I think there is more to you than bitterness and rage, Belinda,” Iris said softly. “Show me I’m right.”

  Belinda’s face softened and her bottom lip started to quiver. “I forgot.” She looked away. “You’re right,” she said in a hushed voice. “I shouldn’t have put the plague in place but I was really pissed off.” Belinda wiped her eyes. “But do you know what it’s like to be mocked and ridiculed? To be told you’re not good enough, and never get the credit you deserve?”

  “Yes,” Iris huffed, slumping her shoulders. “I do know. I’m treated like that constantly by the Hunters and it freaking sucks.”

  Iris slowly reached for Belinda’s shoulder and gave her a gentle pat to try to console her. It was weird, a Hunter soothing a witch. But Belinda always seemed to cross Iris’s path in her defining moments. And now was no exception.

  “Well.” Belinda cleared her throat. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. If I could stop the plague I would, but it’s connected to my heart. If my heart stops, the plague gets released.”

  “I know!” Iris exclaimed. “That’s why I’m trying to stop my dad from killing you. You need to go and let Arlo come with me so he’s as far away as possible—”

  “Um, Iris …” Belinda interrupted her.

  There was a terror in Belinda’s eyes. A terror Iris had not seen before.

  She turned around and gasped.

  The real nightmare had just begun.

  Thirty-Four

  “Mr. Wexler!” Iris shouted. “What are you doing here?”

  Gerald Wexler and a team of Hunters marched into the pool area. Each was dressed from head to toe in black Hunter gear and carried a loaded Hunter rifle. Iris recognized Mr. Wexler, but not the five Hunters with him.

  “I have orders from your father to take Belinda and Arlo with me,” Gerald said loudly. The sunlight glinted off his mirrored aviators, matching his twinkling grin. Iris was reminded of where Mr. Wexler’s son, Deacon, got his attitude from.

  “I’m sorry. But I can't let you do that,” Iris said firmly, folding her arms against her chest.

  “Iris. You don't have a choice,” Gerald chortled. “You're not even a Hunter anymore and this has nothing to do with you.”

  Iris’s face burned red and she fought the urge to lunge at Mr. Wexler. “Do you realize that if you kill Belinda a plague is going to be released in Los Angeles?” she spewed.

  “Yes,” he answered snidely. “Your father and I are prepared, if it will even happen. You can't trust a witch.” He turned toward Belinda.

  “Well, what sort of plan do you have in place?” Iris asked.

  “That's really none of your concern,” Mr. Wexler snapped. “We can handle a plague.”

  “I don't think you're realizing how extreme this is,” Iris explained, her voice wavering. “We're not talking about a cold here. This is a virus that can wipe us all out.”

  Gerald slowly moved forward and adjusted his rifle. “Belinda and Arlo are coming with me. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Iris put her arm in front of Arlo and Belinda, creating a barrier between them and Mr. Wexler. “I’m not letting you take them.”

  “Iris!” he shouted, a vein popping from his forehead. “Get out of my way!”

  “No,” she seethed, her jaw set tight.

  Iris turned as the air around her crackled and hissed. The palm trees dotting the pool lounge swayed violently and tables and chairs blew across the patio. Women in bikinis screamed as they fled inside the hotel. Mr. Wexler and his Hunters raised their rifles.

  Iris’s eyes grew wide as Belinda raised her outstretched hands and lifted off the ground. Belinda clenc
hed her fists, and a gust of wind uprooted two towering palm trees that rose through the air. Clumps of dirt and rocks dropped from their dangling roots as they began to spin in place.

  “Belinda! Don’t do this!” Iris shouted. She struggled to move toward Belinda but the powerful wind knocked her back.

  “I won’t let him take me!” Belinda howled, her voice carrying like the wind she created. She unfurled her hands, twisting them toward her body in a circular motion and unleashed two cyclones toward Mr. Wexler and his men.

  Mr. Wexler dived to cover, but his Hunters weren’t as quick. The cyclones flung the Hunters into the air before slamming them to the ground. Iris could hear the piercing crunch of bones even through the gale-force winds.

  “Stop!” Arlo yelled. “Please!”

  Belinda reached out toward the remaining Hunters and jerked her hands back as if she was grabbing some invisible objects directly in front of her. Two Hunters dropped their rifles and grabbed at their throats, gasping for air.

  “Belinda!” Iris roared. “Enough!”

  The queen of the Hollywood Coven looked down at Iris and Arlo. Her hair billowed like the sail of a great ship caught in a storm and her lavender eyes were filled with terrifying power. She snarled and drew back her hand, casting out a cyclone that sent Iris and Arlo flying out of the pool lounge and into the street.

  They hit the pavement and skidded to a stop in front of the hotel. Iris groaned as she clambered to her feet.

  “We’ve got to get Belinda out of here before she hurts anyone else,” Iris said, racing toward The Armada. Arlo followed closely behind.

  “Yeah. Including us.” Arlo inspected his skinned elbow with dismay.

  Iris opened the door to The Armada and heard a volley of gunfire erupt from the pool area.

  “That can’t be good.” Arlo raised an eyebrow.

  “Wexler,” Iris said through clenched teeth.

  Iris stabbed the gas and The Armada lurched up onto the sidewalk. The engine roared as Iris mowed over a stop sign and plowed through a series of bushes.

  “Uh, Iris.” Arlo grabbed the handle on the roof of The Armada. “Fence!”

  Iris floored it and they crashed through the iron gates and back into the pool lounge. Iris slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop near a hovering Belinda, who was still hurling cyclones toward the last remaining Hunter and Mr. Wexler.

  Iris rolled down the window. “Belinda! Get in!”

  Belinda stared at Iris. “It’s not over yet,” she growled.

  Mr. Wexler popped his head up from behind the wall and aimed his Hunter rifle at Belinda.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Iris said, jamming one of the glowing buttons on the dashboard.

  An array of darts fired from The Armada’s front grill stuck into the wall near Mr. Wexler, sending him cowering before he could fire a shot.

  Belinda saw her opportunity and in a furious rage summoned even more wind. Lounge furniture and palm trees rose up and swirled in the air. The witch raised her hands above her head and Iris pushed another button on The Armada’s dashboard. As much as she hated Mr. Wexler, she wasn’t about to let him get killed.

  A shining globe flew out from a tube on top of The Armada. The gold atomizer wouldn’t kill Belinda, but it would definitely slow her down, and maybe even put an end to this needless fight.

  But Belinda stopped the canister before it could reach her and flung the device with incredible speed toward Mr. Wexler.

  The atomizer sunk into his chest and detonated. Mr. Wexler stared down with wide eyes as liquid gold spilled from his wound. He glared at Belinda and swayed before collapsing.

  Iris reeled back in shock, staring at Mr. Wexler’s lifeless body.

  The last remaining Hunter stood frozen in place. Belinda raised her hands again and airborne debris rose even higher. Iris and Arlo raced out of The Armada and toward Belinda.

  “Belinda! It’s over!” Iris pleaded.

  “Let him go, Belinda,” Arlo said.

  As if woken from a trance, Belinda blinked hard and shook her head. The wind died down and she lowered her hands. It was over.

  Iris heard whistling overhead and looked up. The debris that were caught up in Belinda’s cyclones were hurtling back toward earth, and one piece was heading straight for Arlo.

  There was no time to think; no time to warn him. There was only time to act. Iris darted toward Arlo and shoved him into The Armada, slamming the door shut. The muscles in her legs coiled as she prepared to spring out of the way, but even with her enhanced genetics she wasn’t quick enough to dodge the massive tree.

  The top of the palm hit The Armada and the trunk struck Iris in the head. It bounced off the vehicle before landing on top of Iris, pinning her to the ground. She lay motionless, blood trickling from her mouth, and as a muffled scream came from inside The Armada, and then heard nothing at all.

  Thirty-Five

  The sound of her own panting breath echoed loudly in her ears. Her vision blurred as she stared at the lush emerald palm branches that seemed to be hovering near her forehead. Arlo was leaning over her. His deep green eyes were frantically searching her face.

  She was fading in and out of consciousness as Arlo checked her pulse. It was faint, but she was alive, hanging on by a delicate thread.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  “Iris! Oh my God! Iris! Please say something! Are you okay?”

  She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  Arlo jammed a recovery shot in Iris’s leg and she jolted as the concoction rushed through her body. It felt like lava was coursing through her veins and charring her from the inside out. Her muscles seized and small blisters came and went on every inch of her skin.

  Finally she coughed and darted upright, gasping for air.

  “Iris,” Arlo said, kneeling by her side. “Are you okay?”

  “I forgot how much those freaking shots hurt,” she said through gritted teeth before collapsing back to the ground. She could barely move, but she was communicating.

  Arlo smiled, and Iris grinned back. Her body was sluggish, but her mind was moving fast. “You need to call Knox. Tell him we need a mass Idas spell, and an ambulance for some of these people,” Iris whispered. “There were too many bystanders.”

  Iris tried to look around at the damage but she couldn’t turn her neck.

  “Hey,” Arlo said in a hushed voice. “Don’t speak. I have it taken care off. Belinda’s doing an Idas as we speak, and someone already called the cops.” He ran his fingers down her hair. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” Arlo choked out, his eyes glistening. “I just don’t know what I would have … I just … I kind of can’t believe you pushed me out of the way like that.” He gently stroked her cheeks. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

  “Hey, what are Hunters for?” She cracked a grin but it quickly faded. She suddenly remembered there was so much Arlo did not know. So much she needed to say.

  “Look, there are some important things I need to tell you,” Iris started. Her voice was still shaky. “Something about you, and about something that happened with a—”

  “Hey,” Arlo interrupted, grabbing her hand. “You saved my life, nothing else matters.” He smirked. “Plus, our kiss was pretty hot.”

  Iris could feel her skin blush and her lips burned hot. “Really?” she asked, letting out a gritty cough.

  “Um, yeah.” He smiled as he held her hand tight.

  She gazed at Arlo sitting in front of her. He was so adorable, so lovable. He was kind but funny. Confident but not cocky. She cared for him. She wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

  And then, the reality of the situation set in.

  Iris couldn’t let Arlo go back to the Fortress, back to her father. He had betrayed them all, and having Arlo at his fingertips would make it easier. Iris might be off the Hunter team, but she still bled Hunter’s blood.

  “Listen, you can’t go back to the Fortress and yo
u need to make sure Belinda goes back to the lair. My dad, he’s … Arlo …” She screamed. “This recovery shot is seriously going to kill me!”

  “You’re going to be okay,” Arlo said, squeezing her hand tight. “You’re a badass Witch Hunter. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

  She grinned as a lump formed in her throat. “I …” Iris choked. She gazed at him and gagged again, the life suddenly draining from her body. “Oh God,” she cried in agony, grabbing at her side. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and then, the world went dark.

  Thirty-Six

  Iris squinted against the blinding light and shivered in the cool air. Everything was white: the ground, the sky. There was no sign of life, and no hue of color. She could see her breath in front of her face and her skin was pale as cotton.

  “I told you, you could get hurt, love.” Iris looked up to find Silos standing before her like a shimmering mirage. She reached out her hand, but she couldn’t grab him.

  “What’s going on?” Her breathing was labored and her throat was tight.

  “You’re dying,” Silos said softly. “Well, technically you’re already dead. Your heart just stopped.”

  “What?!” Iris looked down at her hands. They glowed with a transparent light. She frantically looked around but found nothing. No witches. No Hollywood. No Hunters. She was alone. “Tell me you’re lying to me,” she said with pleading eyes.

  “I wish I was, Iris. I really do.” Silos’s face darkened. “You pushed Arlo out of the way of a falling tree to save his life and you died in his place.”

  “But I didn’t get to say good-bye to Arlo, my brother, my parents.” She turned toward Silos. “To you.”

  She watched a tear slowly run down the warlock’s face. “I know. I’m kicking myself for leaving when I did. I shouldn’t have.”

  Iris reached out her hands to hug him, but she couldn’t. There was only air. “It’s not your fault,” Iris assured. “I knew what I was getting myself into.” Iris sighed in frustration. She was willing to die for Arlo, but she didn’t expect it to actually happen.