by Blythe Baker
I glared up at him. “I was in the obvious camp that those people were kooky,” I said.
“So you don’t believe in magic at all?” he asked.
“Should I?” I asked as a way to divert the attention off me, the most magical creature that existed in the whole town of Faerywood Falls.
“Yes, you should if you know what’s good for you,” he said. He stooped in front of another long, metal case. He pulled it open and pulled some dark fabric out before tossing it at me. “Here’s something to change into. At the very least, you need to get out of those wet clothes.
I looked down at myself, and the wet spots I was leaving on the stone beneath me.
I was past the point of shivering, and everything on my body just felt numb, even in front of the heater.
“Fine,” I snapped. “But leave the cave or something. And don’t come back in until I say I’m ready.”
“Fine with me,” he said. And he turned and headed out into the night.
Within two seconds of trying to peel my jacket off me, I realized I wasn’t going to be able to do it alone.
Glowering at the entrance to the cave, I said, “…Okay, I need your help.”
Dante didn’t say anything when he came back inside.
“You may want to hold onto something…” he said. “Your wound has already started to try and heal, so the scabs are fresh. We’re going to have to reopen them to get you clean.”
I swallowed hard, but nodded. “Alright,” I said.
“I’ve got a knife,” he said. “So try not to squirm too much, okay?”
Icy fear washed over me, but I nodded again. “Okay.”
I heard the fabric of the jacket tearing as he cut around the wound to expose it. The cold air cut through the openings as he started cutting away at my shirt underneath it.
Decency was the least of my concerns as he began to peel away the layers of fabric stuck to the wound. The pain exploded in my back, making me gasp out loud and grip the edge of the cot so tightly that my knuckles turned white. Bright white spots popped in my vision, which was beginning to blur.
“Got half of it off,” Dante said. “But where the wound is deepest, there’s still some fabric to cut away. Just hold on, it’s almost done.”
I gripped the edge of the cot, trying to remember to breathe as he set about peeling the jacket and shirt away.
And then, the worst of the pain suddenly ceased.
“There,” he said. “I’ve got the wound exposed. Let me get it cleaned for you and then I’ll put on the salve. Okay?”
I nodded feebly, my knees trembling. I’d never felt pain like that before, and was left weak from it.
“Alright, I’m just going to use some warm water to wash it, okay?” he said.
I felt nothing but pressure against my back as he dabbed at it with a cloth.
“And now for the salve…” he said.
I let out a sigh of blessed relief. The gel that he spread across my back was like the strongest and fastest anesthetic ever encountered. The pain that had been so debilitating a moment before was all but gone.
“Hold on just one second,” he said. “Let me just wrap it in some gauze for you.”
The crinkling of paper told me he’d unwrapped some bandages, and the firm pressure he applied to my back told me he was almost finished.
“There,” he said. “I’ll leave for a second so you can finish changing.”
I caught sight of the ends of his tail coat leaving the cave as I turned around.
My fingers trembling, I pulled away the ruined bits of my shirt and jacket that were left. My back, though tender and sore, wasn’t in nearly as much pain as it should have been. Whatever that salve was, it really was magical.
As I peeled off my wet jeans and socks, I pondered why someone like him, a monster hunter, would carry around something like that.
I guessed he carried silver arrows, didn’t he? Maybe magical ointments like that were all that really worked against magical creatures?
Regardless, it was hard to be angry with him when he’d been so helpful and had cleaned me up and treated my wounds.
I pulled the clothes he’d given me on, realizing they were much too big for me, but appreciative for them all the same. I laid out my own clothes to dry beside my phone in front of the heater.
Feeling considerably more like myself, and significantly more curious about Dante Fain, I called him back in.
“How’re the bandages holding up?” he asked. I noticed he carried two mugs in his hands. The mugs looked surprisingly strange for him to be carrying. As normal as they were, he was anything but.
“Fine,” I said, in a much more pleasant tone than before. “I, uh…I wanted to thank you for…well, helping me.”
Why had that been so hard?
“Well, I’m just sorry I didn’t get the creature before he had the chance to attack you,” Dante said. “If I’d been able to shoot it earlier, that never would’ve happened to you.”
He passed me the mug of tea, which smelled heavenly and comforting after everything I’d been through. “I added some local honey in it that I found yesterday.”
“Really?” I asked, and eagerly inhaled the scent. It was a more floral tea than I expected from Dante. But the sweetness of the honey was tantalizing, and I couldn’t bear to wait any longer. Scalding though the tea was, I took a hesitant, small sip. “It’s delicious,” I said.
“Thank you,” he said. “It’s my own personal blend.”
I blinked as he walked past me into the cave. “You make your own tea?”
“Does that surprise you?” he asked. “A man like me, living in the woods for most of his life? I find that I can make things the way I like them if I do them myself.”
“That makes sense to me,” I said.
“How does fish sound for dinner?” he asked. “I caught some earlier. Meant to have them tonight anyways.”
He pointed to a small cooler beside his cot.
“Dinner?” I asked. My stomach growling gave me away.
“I feel like I owe you at least that,” he said. “Then I’ll get you home, alright?”
I debated for a fraction of a second, and then sighed. I was exhausted, even more so now after the creature’s attack and the jump off the cliff…
“Sure,” I said finally. I didn’t really have the energy to argue about it.
He pulled the fish from the cooler, and headed out to the mouth of the cave with them.
I followed him a short ways until my eyes fell on some things hanging along the wall.
Another bow hung from a peg in the stone, along with several quivers of raven fletched arrows. Beside that were silver star-shaped blades, and even beside those were thin, wooden stakes.
Monster hunting tools.
“You’re prepared for pretty much anything, aren’t you?” I asked, leaning against the wall with my tea, relishing the heat that it brought back to the tips of my fingers and my palms.
“I try to be,” he said as he tossed the fish onto a metal grill he’d positioned over the crackling flames.
“You’re really convinced these creatures exist, aren’t you?” I asked.
“I’ve seen ‘em for myself,” he said. “And my goal is to not let any of them hurt anyone else.”
He had no idea how much I agreed with that sentiment.
A sudden blip of noise behind me made me jump, until I realized it was my cell phone.
I hurried back to it, and glanced at the screen, thankful that it was working again.
It was a text from my Aunt Candace.
Everything okay? Just wondering why you missed dinner.
I quickly texted her back.
I’m fine, just got held up at work. I probably won’t be home until late. Talk to you later!
I hoped that’d be enough to soothe any fears she had. I knew it was a lie, at least most of it…but I really was okay as far as I knew.
Besides, I couldn’t leave yet. Not when my own
clothes were sopping wet. I reached out and touched the fabric; still damp, but they’d probably be okay to throw back on in an hour or so.
Then I’d leave this weird place and never look back.
I glanced back out the cave at Dante, whose profile I could just make out from the light of the fire.
He was certainly a confusing man. One minute, I despised him, and then the next, he showed me great kindness.
And that, to me, was unsettling.
7
“I saw you eyeing my gear,” Dante said from beside the fire. The bright, flickering flames set his face into harsh relief, making the lines in his forehead more prominent, and the angle of his jaw sharper. He seemed entirely relaxed, though, regardless of the fact that I was hovering over him to see what exactly he was making for me.
I still wasn’t sure he wouldn’t try to poison me or something.
“You’re like someone out of a conspiracy show,” I said, taking a seat on the overturned log beside the small fire. The smell of the fish sizzling on the grill stretched across the flames was making my mouth water again. I winced as I tried to lean over; my back was still incredibly tender, even if the salve Dante had given me had saved me weeks of healing naturally.
“Careful,” Dante said, seeing the pained look on my face. “The wound may have closed, but you’ve still got some resting to do.
I blinked at him, my eyelids heavy. I rubbed them with my dirty fingers, wishing I had a place I could wash the lake water off my face and out of my hair. “Where did you get a potion like that anyways?” I asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” Dante said simply, grabbing one of the filets with a pair of metal tongs and flipping it over. He reached down beside himself on the ground and produced a lemon, which he deftly sliced in half with a blade that looked more like a machete than a kitchen knife.
It was funny seeing him with something as ordinary and brightly colored as a lemon; it seemed like such a contrast to his dark, broody exterior.
He squeezed the citrus over the fish, the flames spitting and hissing as the juice struck them.
It smelled incredible.
His eyes lifted from the fish and settled on me.
A chill ran through me.
He’d looked at me enough since I’d met him…hadn’t he? Why did this feel like the first time we’d really looked at each other?
Maybe because this was the first time I’d not been fighting for my life or filled with rage at the very sight of him. What changed? Why wasn’t I ready to pick up one of these burning coals and chuck it in his face?
I shuddered as I stared into the deep, dark pools of his eyes. He was so withdrawn, mysterious to a T. I wouldn’t necessarily call him gorgeous or anything, but he had some handsome features; his broad shoulders and jaw to match gave him a strong appearance, and there was something curious about the brooding expression he always wore. It made me wonder what had happened to him in his life to lead him to this point.
Whatever it was…it must’ve been dark and horrible.
“What about all those tools and weapons?” I asked, dying to break the silence between us. “Where’d you get all that?”
He glanced over his shoulder, back toward the mouth of the cave. He let out a gravelly sigh through his nose. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
“It kind of does, though,” I said. “I feel like I should know something about the person who saved my life tonight.” Even I was surprised by the deflating confidence in my words.
He regarded me with a blank look. Maybe blank wasn’t the right word. I just couldn’t read his face. I had no idea what he was thinking.
“You said you didn’t believe in any of the supernatural nonsense,” Dante said.
“Well, try me,” I said. I knew I was treading into what might be considered unsafe territory, especially for a faery like me, but in order for me to be better prepared against someone like him, I was going to have to know him, right? And who knew? Maybe he’d be able to tell me more about this creature he was hunting…the creature that might’ve killed Annie like it tried to kill me.
He reached down and picked up his tea cup, taking a long draw from it before shifting his weight against the log he leaned against. “Alright, fine,” he said. “But it’s not my problem if you believe me or not. Got it?”
I nodded, leaning forward.
“Those tools were given to me by my father,” he said. “And those were given to him from his father before him. My family has always sort of stood on the line between humanity and monsters. My great grandfather was knighted for slaying a shape shifter that tried to assassinate the king of an undisclosed country, and ever since then, my family has taken great pride in their profession.”
“So this is what you do for a living?” I asked. “How do you make any money doing it? I can’t imagine bounty hunters make all that much in modern times.”
“You’d be surprised,” Dante said, beginning to peel some potatoes and tossing them into another pot on the fire. “People will often pay a great deal of money to keep things like this quiet. Things that might ruin their reputation, or make them seem crazy. There are many more people in this world who believe in supernatural things than you might believe, but everyone is simply too afraid to discuss it in civilized society.”
That thought struck me as interesting, because I couldn’t really argue with him about it. “There are fairy tales and things like that,” I said. “And of course, there’s those people who talk about Big Foot and aliens.”
Dante shook his head. “No, it’s more than that. Some of those are genuine, I’m sure, but even in a world where magic really does exist, there are still those who are just mentally unstable.”
He pulled a bundle of herbs from a satchel lying on the ground beside him and tore off some leaves before tossing them into the pot with the potatoes.
“So…what kind of creatures does your family hunt?” I asked. This was the million dollar question. We could be talking about two completely different things. He could be a completely insane man on a mission to take out things that didn’t even exist. But if he wasn’t…
“Well, I mentioned shape shifters,” he said. “Those are the ones we’ve primarily run into. But my father took on a group of three vampires in the middle of the city out in California when I was a child. He managed to kill them all, and there was some rest in the town for a while. I was young, and I remember my mother being furious with him when he finally got home…”
My throat grew tight. Shape shifters and vampires. I tried to swallow, but my throat was dry.
“I’ve also heard of ghost summoners, though I’ve never seen one myself. My grandfather said they were all over in the eastern part of the country. It’s terrible. And there are others, of course. But one thing is for sure about each and every one of them…” he said, his deep voice becoming more of a growl.
A chill ran along my spine. “What’s that?” I asked.
“They’re all evil,” he said. “And I’m going to rid the world of them before I take my dying breath.”
His statement hung in the air between us, heavy and final.
I bit down on the inside of my lip so hard I tasted the metallic tang of my own blood on my tongue.
There was a part of my mind that was reacting like I thought I should; angered by his words. How dare he say that I was evil? How was going around and killing magical creatures any less evil? How did he think that so thoughtlessly lumping us all into one group was okay?
But then…another part of me reared up, the part that used to live away from Faerywood Falls, and without any knowledge of magic or anything like it…
He believed he was enacting justice for families who lost loved ones to these vicious creatures. He was fighting for their safety, to protect them from the dangers that paranormal beings were known for.
And he was right, as much as it pained me to admit it. We were dangerous as a whole. While many would never turn around and hurt a human, there were still
a lot who would. Who had, even in the short time I’d been living here in Faerywood Falls.
“I think you’re partially right,” I said. “But I don’t think it’s just one side that’s evil. I think we live in an evil world, and that evil influences people to do bad things out of hurt or anger. That doesn’t make it right, don’t get me wrong. It’s just…”
“I know what you mean,” Dante said. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe they aren’t all evil, but all the ones I’ve run into have been.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, a gust of wind brushing through the trees, making the flames dance. “…My mother was killed by one of those creatures,” I said. I wasn’t even really sure why I decided to tell him. To gain his trust? To remember my own humanity? I wasn’t sure. “Before I ever had a chance to know her.”
“You don’t know how many times I’ve heard stories like that,” he said. “And I want to get to a place where I don’t have to hear them anymore. You’re right, though. There’s enough evil in this world between human beings. I want to prevent the spread of any more death by ridding the world of those unnatural beings.”
I swallowed hard. I understood what he was saying. Really well, actually. It was the same righteous anger that burned within me when I learned it was Rebecca Blackburn that had killed my mother. The same anger that I’d felt when I realized that Cain had lied to me for all that time. It was humiliating and almost uncontrollable.
“…Did you lose someone to those monsters?” I asked. I had no problem calling Rebecca a monster. She had been one.
Dante slowly looked up at me. While his face remained stern and blank, his eyes held something I couldn’t quite place. Was it sadness? Or was that just what I was expecting to see?
“Dinner’s ready,” Dante said, pulling the fish from the grill and onto a plate. He passed one to me with the other half of the lemon he’d used on the fish. “You better eat up before it gets cold.”
“Yeah…” I said.
