The Hunter

by T R Kohler

  Not exactly sure what the last line was supposed to mean, Ember kept her features even, watching the back-and-forth play out.

  “So what do you want?” Kaia asked.

  Extending his hands to either side, Bob gestured to the home they were sitting in. “I have six places like this all along the west coast. Two more back east. Another one on each major continent.”

  “Congratulations,” Kaia deadpanned. “You don’t need anything. Can we move this along?”

  Undeterred, Bob continued, “Point being, I have money. No, I have wealth. What I need is the time to fully appreciate it.”

  Feeling her eyes widen just slightly, Ember considered the man before her and the request he was making. If forced to guess, she would peg him somewhere in his low- to mid-forties. Very overweight, if he were to get a few things in order, he might have thirty or forty years left.

  Why he already felt that wasn’t enough, she couldn’t begin to know.

  “So you give us the mirror, we give you a decade?” Kaia asked. “That what you’re thinking?”

  Bob’s chin lowered to his chin, his eyebrows rising slightly. “A dime? No, I was thinking more along the lines of a c-note?”

  Stifling a laugh, Ember flicked her attention over to Kaia. The only other people she had ever heard use the term c-note were drug dealers or pimps, people that talked like that because they’d seen it on television at some point.

  Just like this loser.

  “Ha!” Kaia spat. “You want a hundred years tax free? How ‘bout twenty?”

  “How ‘bout fifty?” Bob replied.

  Leaning back slightly, Kaia drew in a deep breath. Acting as if considering it, she slowly exhaled, her shoulders sagging with the movement. “Thirty-five. Final offer.”

  “Done,” Bob said, bringing his hands together before him. “And a new television, of course.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Ember wasn’t old enough to remember when VW buses were actually a thing that people bought and used unironically. Born in the late seventies, Woodstock, the Summer of Love, Flower Power, and those sorts of things were well in the rearview. By the time she started to come of age, all of that had been replaced by pot and grunge music and flannel, hallmarks of Seattle in the nineties.

  Sometime after the turn of the century, pop culture had grown tired of the current trends and started leaning on ways to capitalize on nostalgia. Comic-book movies became all the rage. Television reboots were on every channel.

  And things like the bus she was now sitting in started appearing on the roadways again.

  Despite the glossy veneer of the outside, the inside was just as uncomfortable as she would imagine an automobile produced in the sixties would be. Vinyl seats covered thin foam pads. Shocks were in precious short supply, every bump and divot in the road setting them to rocking.

  It was like being in a tank, only with more fixed stares as they passed by.

  Much like before, the decision to have Ember ride with Bob wasn’t so much a choice as a lack of options. The man had already displayed himself to be using the situation for any gain possible, meaning it wouldn’t be out of the question for him to start firing off phone calls the moment he was alone.

  To somebody else, looking for a better deal. To the other side, willing to give them up.

  To stem any opportunity, Ember was forced into the front seat alongside him, Kaia not about to do such a thing.

  Not that Ember could rightly blame her.

  “Hell of a swat you’ve got there,” Bob said. Lifting one hand from the steering wheel, he cupped his chin, working it to either side.

  Something told Ember it was far from the first time he’d been hit. “Thanks.”

  Glancing over, he kept his focus on her for a moment before shifting his attention back to the road.

  Outside, the sun was just starting its descent over the water. How so much of the day had slid past so quickly, Ember didn’t pretend to know, everything since that night in the snow a blur. Time had become completely irrelevant, it seemed, nothing more than a way to keep track of how long it had been since she crossed over.

  A feeling she knew would only grow moving forward.

  “Ask you something?” Bob asked.

  With her focus aimed out the side window, Ember felt her eyes slide shut. She pushed hot breath out through her nose, loud enough she hoped the point would be made, before saying, “What?”

  “I was just...” he began, pausing as he changed lanes, working around a tractor trailer. Settling on the outside, he fell in with the flow of traffic moving north.

  Far enough outside the city to be beyond rush hour, they moved at a good clip, mirroring the coast.

  “I was just wondering how someone like you came to be doing this,” Bob asked.

  A ripple of palpitations rose up through Ember’s core. Not from the question itself, it being the most reasonable thing Bob had said since they met. At the fact that she still wasn’t entirely sure how to answer it.

  In the moment, it had seemed right. Still did, and would continue to, for as long as it took.

  But trying to get someone else to understand that wasn’t a task she was particularly thrilled with taking on.

  “Someone like me?” Ember whispered.

  “Well, yeah,” Bob replied. “I mean, you’re still fairly young. Shiner aside, fairly attractive. Not exactly the type I’d peg to be out playing the heavy for a demon.”

  The characterization of Ember as a heavy was almost enough to make her chuckle, one corner of her mouth turning up just slightly before returning to place.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Bob said. “I don’t exactly remember your job being in the Occupational Outlook Handbook in high school.”

  This time, the twitch of Ember’s mouth went up a bit higher, almost bordering on a half-smile.

  The guy could be a bit funny, when he wasn’t being a pompous ass.

  Leaning forward, Ember ran her hands down the front of her jeans. How she’d ended up where she was wasn’t by design, damned sure wasn’t from any sort of concerted plan.

  It was just how things had played out. Talking about it, trying to understand it, wouldn’t change anything.

  More likely, it would only piss her off.

  “Let’s just say, my bargaining position then wasn’t as strong as yours is now,” Ember replied.

  Starting to press further, Bob seemed to pick up on what she was saying. Closing his mouth for a moment, he chewed on things in silence, almost a mile passing beneath their tires before he chanced another look her way.

  “So you’re saying they didn’t buy you a new television?”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  The sun was just starting to set as Bob pushed the rig off the freeway and wound his way through the outskirts of a town called Oceanside. Putting the sun behind them, he turned inland, working through a series of basic thoroughfares, bank branches, fast food chains, and gas stations lining either side of the road.

  Falling silent, he hooked a right and then a left, leaving the bustle of the afternoon crowd behind and turning into an industrial complex. To either side were office buildings of three and four stories, most of their lights out for the evening.

  “This is where you keep priceless artifacts and heirlooms?” Ember asked, surveying the buildings as they passed.

  Turning her way from behind the wheel, Bob said, “Oceanside is a military town, which means most of the riffraff have been priced out of living here.”

  He left his explanation at that, not that he needed to go any further.

  Tacoma was a navy town. Ember knew exactly what he was talking about.

  Checking the rearview, Ember could see the Viper just one length back as they pulled off the street and into a narrow drive for a public storage facility. Easing to a control panel along the side of the building, Bob punched in a series of numbers before leaning back inside, the gate before them sliding out of the w
ay.

  Once it was clear, they pushed quickly ahead, careful to go fast enough to get both vehicles through before it returned to position.

  Allowing the engine to idle along, the bus rolled forward, moving past a series of roll-top doors on either side. Resembling thousands just like it around the country, each door was as nondescript as the one before, none giving the slightest hint at what might be hidden behind them.

  Watching them slide past, Ember could only imagine what they might hold. A vintage Harley-Davidson. An impromptu workout facility. Boxes of junk somebody insisted they couldn’t live without.

  And somewhere up ahead, an item that could radically alter how Heaven and Hell interacted on Earth.

  Crazy.

  Letting the van move to the end of the row, Bob hooked a left. He rolled past a second building of matching design before pulling to a stop at the end of a third and killing the ignition.

  “Come on,” he muttered, pulling the keys and stepping outside, Kaia already out of the Viper and heading their way, a shoulder bag looped over her arm. Without pausing, he pushed through a side entrance and immediately began to climb a short flight of stairs.

  Falling in beside him, Ember matched his pace, her chest tightening as they ascended.

  Only on rare occasions had she been to a storage facility, though the place had all the earmarks for an ambush. Dozens of doors on either side capable of hiding someone. Very low lighting. Almost nonexistent security.

  “If you’re leading us into a trap...” Kaia muttered from behind them, seeming to rip the thought from Ember’s mind.

  Turning over a shoulder, Bob scoffed. “You guys work for Hell. Who else would I call?”

  Leaving it at that, he reached the second floor. Robe billowing wide to either side, his sandals scraped against concrete as he jangled the keys in his hand, selecting the one he wanted.

  “How does this whole deal thing go, anyway?” he asked.

  “The terms are set,” Kaia replied. “Thirty-five years, payable as soon as we are in possession of the artifact.”

  “Thirty-five years and a television,” Bob corrected.

  Smirking just slightly, Ember glanced over a shoulder, seeing the expression she’d been wearing most of the drive out on Kaia’s face.

  The sooner they had what they needed and were gone, the better.

  “Thirty-five years and a television,” Kaia repeated.

  Pulling up in front of a random door, Bob turned to face them. “And that’s it? Just the paper we signed back at the house? No blood oath or anything?”

  Arching an eyebrow, Kaia aimed her best withering glare on him. “No, but that could easily be arranged if you’d prefer.”

  For a moment, Bob remained rooted in place, as if debating whether she was telling the truth. Slowly, a smile spread to his face, his hands rising to either side. “Okay, I give. You broads really need to loosen up.”

  Shuffling around to face the door, he used the key to pop open a padlock. Pulling aside the metal latch, he hooked the lock back over the clasp before reaching down and grasping the bottom of the door.

  In one smooth motion, the corrugated metal rolled upward, the sound reverberating the length of the hall. Feeling her nerves pull tight, Ember glanced in either direction, nothing but shrouded darkness and concrete as far as she could see.

  “Alright, give me a second here,” Bob said. Turning his heft sideways, he slid through a narrow walkway cut through the middle of the storage locker, boxes and items of every sort crammed to the ceiling.

  Nothing like Tam’s home or showroom, Ember glanced at the things piled high, many resembling nothing more than common household goods. Taking a half-step forward, she bent at the waist, peering into the locker, before pulling back and glancing to Kaia.

  “Legit?” she mouthed.

  “Better be,” Kaia replied, not bothering to mask her tone.

  “I can hear you,” Bob called from within, the sound of his rummaging drifting out to them.

  “Wasn’t trying to hide it,” Kaia replied, her hands on her hips as she turned toward the door, checking either direction repeatedly.

  “What’s in the bag?” Ember asked, nodding toward the purse looped over Kaia’s arm. She hadn’t spent much time around the girl but could recognize it was the first time she’d seen her sporting a satchel.

  And could further acknowledge Kaia didn’t quite seem the type, wanting her hands free for playing with her hair or sunglasses.

  Casting a glance to Ember, Kaia replied, “Hope you don’t find out.” Leaving it at that, she turned over her shoulder, raising her voice slightly, “Hey, Chubby, hurry it up, huh?”

  The sound of digging grew louder for a moment, objects being tossed around from side to side, culminating in a clatter that sounded like a stack of boxes hitting the floor.

  Once more turning to look inside, Ember inspected the interior of the locker, wondering how the man stored objects that weren’t extremely valuable.

  Bent at the waist, she watched as he appeared from the rear of the space, the locker much deeper than she expected. In his hands was a small wooden box, the item gripped tight on either end.

  “There’s no need to make it personal,” Bob said as he emerged, dust bunnies and smears of dirt striping his clothes and skin. Beads of sweat lined his forehead, soaking the front of his hair.

  In her best deadpan, Kaia managed, “So sorry,” extending a hand toward Bob.

  Without a word, he handed it over, turning to close the locker behind him.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The plan with Tam didn’t go as perfectly as Jonas would have liked, but it was close enough.

  The man was as uncertain as expected when they first entered. Free of his tethers, he was hunkered in the corner, his backside against the base of the wall, his knees drawn up before him.

  Visible scrapes lined the floor around the chair in the middle of the room, as if he had tried to move it or disassemble it to fashion a makeshift weapon. When that had proven impossible, he had taken up the bowl his rice was served in, holding it before him, the ropes that had bound his wrists wrapped around his knuckles like an ancient kickboxer.

  Had it not bordered on pitiful, Jonas might have been impressed.

  At the sight of Jonas standing before him, a guttural wail had crawled up from Tam, absorbed instantly by the heavy padding lining the walls. He had yelled until his raw throat could take no more, leveling a malevolent glare.

  Throughout, Jonas had remained silent. Knowing that the outburst was coming, that the man was being fueled by the food and drink he’d just received, Jonas allowed him to have his moment.

  And when it passed, he still said nothing, instead turning and nodding to the men outside.

  The sight of Gad and Micah dragging the man into the room had the effect that Jonas hoped it would.

  The angry glare that had settled on Tam’s face retreated instantly, replaced by a look that bordered on abject horror. Rotating his head slightly at the neck to get a clear view, he fixed his gaze on the young man as they carried him in and placed him in the chair.

  Remaining rooted on either side for support, they held him in place, waiting as Tam took it all in, before finally jerking his attention away. A series of moans slid from his lips as he buried his face in his opposite shoulder, body trembling.

  “Thanks, guys. That’ll do,” Jonas said softly, Micah and Gad both responding with a nod.

  As fast as they’d arrived, they were gone again, returning the young man to his quarters.

  Once they were out, Jonas waited until the door clicked shut. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, he took a slow step forward, resting a foot on the chair. Leaning over it, he balanced his forearms across his knees, gaze settled on Tam.

  In that position, he was prepared to wait as long as it took.

  Which turned out to be just over three minutes.

  Once the initial burst of disbelief and shaking passed, Tam took t
o muttering. After that too ran its course, he looked up at Jonas through red-rimmed eyes, his face an amalgam of emotions running high.

  “So that was the trade-off?” he whispered. “You agree not to hurt me, feed me, and in return you do that?”

  “We didn’t do that,” Jonas replied.

  “And then what?” Tam said, ignoring the statement. “You bring him in here and scare me into compliance?”

  His features neutral, Jonas pushed himself upright. He turned sideways and settled his bottom onto the chair, one arm draped over it, staring at Tam.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jonas replied. “Quite the opposite. I wanted you to see that I was telling the truth. That the item we’re looking for is that important.”

  Sliding his gaze from Jonas, Tam looked toward the closed door, the scent of the young man’s blood still strong in the air.

  “You’re telling me you didn’t do that?”

  “No,” Jonas said. “Couldn’t have even if I wanted. He is a mortal.”

  Whether Tam was familiar with the rules, Jonas didn’t know, though he had a feeling someone in a position such as his had been around for quite some time.

  It was an assumption worth making.

  “Then who did?” Tam asked.

  “The other side. Your side,” Jonas replied. Taking a moment to let that sink in, he added, “That’s how dire this is. People are disregarding the ancient laws, doing whatever they can to get their hands on this thing.”

  Careful not to refer to the object by its proper name, or even to call it a mirror, Jonas studied Tam. He watched for any flicker of recognition, for any sign that might tip him off.

  As best he could tell, there was still too much distrust, too much hostility, for anything else to get through.

  “I only met him a couple of times,” Tam said. “He’s a good kid. I hope he makes it.”

  Jonas didn’t even know the boy’s name. By the time he’d arrived, the young man was already incapacitated.