“Do you have a place you can stay for a couple of days? A family friend or anything like that?”
“I have a friend, Burnett. I’ll get her to stay with me for a week.”
“Good. Whatever works for you. Just use discretion when you explain why.” I’d already went over why this has to be a secret. “Understand?”
“Yes.” She nods. “Thank you, Blaze.” She goes in for a hug and I reciprocate.
“No problem. You have my number if you need me. Don’t hesitate to call. I’m not a local here by any means, but I can make time. This sort of thing is what I do. I’ll handle bringing Andrew home. Check your mail in a couple of days. Stay safe.”
“You, too.” She closes her front door, leaving Andrew and I out on her porch.
“Let’s go. My car. Now.” Andrew heeds my command and follows me back to my vehicle. “Get in.” I unlock his side and he climbs in.
“…You know how to get to my house from here, right?” he asks sheepishly.
“Yup. Good memory.” I turn the key to the ignition and my engine roars. Seconds later, we pull off from Victoria’s place and I start my drive towards the interstate.
We travel for a bit, but once I pass his exit, it doesn’t take him long to figure out that home isn’t where we’re heading.
“W-Where are you taking me?” I ignore him and keep my focus on the road. “Hello? We should have gotten off two exits ago.”
I draw a long-winded sigh and scowl, fighting against the urge to rip into him. “Say one more word before we stop and I’ll put a bullet in your leg. And don’t try me. You know I’m good for it.” So, he doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t do so much as look my way. That is, until we finally stop. “Get out,” I say to him.
I drove him outside the city and during a stretch of open road, turned into a gravel trail surrounded by the great outdoors. As always, visibility is key.
“Why are we here?” he says once both of us are at the back end of my car. He’s nervous, apprehensive. His motions are erratic, but controlled, if that makes sense. Enough to try to make it look passable, but not nearly enough to actually pass. He’s scared shitless. Good.
“To make sure this never happens again,” I say after I pull my out my Beretta and aim it right between his eyes.
“Please…don’t! Don’t shoot. My fiancé—”
“I know. But, this isn’t about them. It’s about you and me… You remember the address to Victoria’s place?” Andrew nods, his hands raised to his sides and trembling. “Good. Two thousand. That’s the amount you’re giving her, along with a handwritten apology.”
“Two thousand?” He grimaces and I shimmy my gun a bit; just enough to remind him that I’m the one in control and he’s the one who almost made a girl kill herself out of his own unresolved bullshit.
“I’d say more, but you have a wedding to plan. Be grateful.” I pause. “Another thing. Your cellphone. Reach for it slowly and place it in my hand.”
“S-Sure.” Andrew complies and does what’s requested. “Please don’t ruin this for me,” he pleads as I grasp his device. “She doesn’t deserve any of this. Just leave her out of it. What I did to Victoria was wrong, a mistake.”
“Her name was Fallon, wasn’t it?” I ask, knowing the answer. I pause to let him simmer in his despair. “Do you know where you are?”
“No?”
I drop his cell to the ground and shoot it twice, his body cringing with every shot. “Good. Two thousand,” I say as I make my way back to the driver’s seat. “You have a week.”
I watch Andrew from my rearview mirror, his mouth agape as I pull off and drive back towards the main road. I don’t care if he gets it. He can be pissed all he wants. He was a part of the spell, too. He’s lucky he’s still alive.
Chapter 5: Wellness Check
“Took you long enough,” Roc says and smiles before taking a sip of his tea. He seems to be doing okay. There’s a healing cut on the left side of his face, an inch or so away from his eye. The skin on his cheek on the same side is puffy, too, but only to the trained eye.
“Long drive became longer. Had some business to tend to.” I take my seat in front of him and glance at the drink already set at my side of the table. “Didn’t drug it, did you?”
“Not this time, no. Have to earn your trust first.”
“Well, keep trying.” I chuckle and take a sip and sigh, refreshed by the sight of a familiar face.
“But it does look like you can use a break.”
“Speak for yourself.” I smirk. “What got you?”
“Case earlier this week. Evil spirit. You know the drill. Had to take down the bastard that was bound up by it. Almost lost an eye.”
“I see that…but an easy week, though, right?”
“Yeah, you can say that. You know how it is…you take it one day at a time with this thing.”
“Yup, because you never know what day will be your last.” I twist the glass as it rests on the table, my eyes looking away from Rocco and focused on the task at hand. It was good to see him, but I valued my space. Yes, I had been distant, but that was to be expected. I warned him first-hand. He bailed me out of my most recent debacle, but at a price. A wellness check. We had to meet face-to-face.
“You ever pay back those thugs you were telling me about?”
“Nah. Not worth it, trust me. I wanted to, but not worth it. I’m pretty sure I put one of them in the hospital, so there’s that…and I learned last night that it’s virtually impossible to go nose-blind when you’re nestled next to a dumpster. I’m sure it’ll come in handy someday. Trivia or something.” I take another sip from my glass.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He chuckles and repositions himself. “…It’s good to see you, Blaze. You know, actually get a visual.”
“Same,” I say concisely.
“Half the time when you call me, you’re either knee-deep in shit or getting ready to dive in head-first.”
“Well, I’d be lame if I was just asking for movie recommendations.”
“I’m serious, Blaze. You’re being reckless.”
“I’m making the world a better place,” I fire back.
“Yeah? For who? Because you’re acting like you’re getting ready to pack your bags.”
Not this shit again.
“You see me, right? I’m here. I’m alive. I’m as good as you’d expect me to be after running a case, let alone, five.”
“Sailor’s d—”
“Sailor’s what?” I ask, my voice cutting through the tension in the air. Rocco eases back into the cove of the booth and takes a moment to regroup.
“…Sailor wouldn’t want you to go at the pace you’re going. At least not alone. How many cases have you closed this month?”
“We’re hunters, Roc. I’m just doing my job.”
“I know.” Roc sighs. “I know… And you’re good at it. I just don’t want another tragedy.”
“Excuse me, are you guys ready to order?” Saved by the waitress.
“Yes ma’am. The burger and fries will do. All the works,” Roc answers.
“And for you?”
“Same as this guy right here,” I respond while gesturing across the table. “I’m gonna go with his judgement on this one.” When I place my hands back on the table, I notice the waitress stealing a glance at my bruised knuckles. Her eyes raise to meet mine and I smile.
“Two burgers and fries, coming right up!” she pipes, pretending that she’s oblivious to our condition. As soon as she’s gone, Roc leans in again.
“What I was trying to say was, we’re the ones that are supposed to make it out of this alive. You get what I’m saying?” He taps on the table. “Us dying does nothing for the greater good. You have to be able to save yourself before you can help somebody else, you get that, right?”
“Yeah, I get what you’re saying.”
“I’m worried about you, man. I wouldn’t have driven those three hours to see you, otherwise.”
Same he
re.
“I appreciate it,” I respond. “I’m still just trying to figure things out, Roc. A lot of emotions to sift through, but I’m making it, and I’m doing just fine.”
That may have been an overstatement considering last night and more than a handful of the other nights that come to mind, but he doesn’t need to know that. I’ll just play his little game…he bails me out of a bind, I pay him a visit. He gets peace of mind, and I keep him in my corner so that I can keep mine.
“Ever think about coming back?”
“Heh. Over the phone you promised you were going to keep things light. You already screwed things up with the Sailor-talk.”
“Just trying to remind you that you’re not in this alone.”
“Word. I know, Roc.”
But there’s a difference between friends and family. Having friends can help, sure, but losing someone close to you isn’t as simple as spending more time with Jane and John. People leave holes. Death leaves scars.
“You have friends. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t…and I haven’t.”
Roc and I continue to talk and I make my best effort to keep the conversation on a surface level. There really isn’t much to say about what I’m doing or why I’m doing it. I can’t even say it’s one hundred percent Sailor. It probably is, but it’s weird. There’s a veil of me just not caring anymore. About anything, honestly. In between the sparks of hunting, it’s like I’m a blown fuse. After the news about Sailor and the others, the world instantly shifted a few shades grayer, and I don’t think I can shake it, even if I tried… Even if I wanted to.
Hunting’s the only thing that sort of clears the waters, so to speak, that or when I dream about her, but even then, when I wake up, the world goes back to shit once I realize I’m alive and this is my reality.
Killing those things gives me a drop of joy in my bucket, but it evaporates quick and leaves a nasty stain.
“I’m just trying to look out for you, man.”
“Thanks.” I shift my body involuntarily. Not much, but enough for Roc to pick up that his words reached me in some form or fashion. “Anything new with Sailor’s situation?”
“The demons from the raid?” he asks. He damn well knows what I mean. As of late, I’ve always found a way to sneak it into our conversations. Sometimes through the back door, other times, front and center. To my knowledge, whoever took Sailor and the others out are still working behind the scenes. Taking out several dozen hunters from the states without leaving a trail is something uncanny. Even for our line of work. “No, I haven’t.”
There’s always clues; sometimes normies can’t see them, but they’re out there. Bite marks for wolves and vampires, shifts in energy, residue…but with everything being so tightly guarded around that raid—the fact that no one survived—left a lot up to speculation. And it didn’t help that they covered their tracks way beyond our scope of intel available. It was a shock to us all, but by the time we were able to move, we were already infinitely behind. Smashed phones. Missing cars. No way to track the ones we lost.
And I still find myself calling her number on occasion, hoping she made it out okay.
“Anything with you?”
“No. Nothing. You know I’m not as good as you with that sort of thing. I mean, I know how to do it, but you’ve always had a leg up when it comes to digging.”
A faint smile emerges on Roc’s lips as he raises his glass to take a sip. “Don’t beat yourself up, you’re not too bad. I’d put you up there.”
“Sure.” I chortle, but nothing more. “Keep an eye out, okay? I want in once we find out where to plant our claws.”
“If that’s what it takes to get my friend back, sure thing.”
Before I can respond the waitress serves us our food. It was a lucky break, but honestly, I couldn’t have responded to that without making things worse than they already are. We both know I’m here only for the sake of honoring a prior commitment…and if I’m “gone”, to be fair, killing the ones responsible for everything won’t bring me back. I’ve already learned that revenge-killing doesn’t do much, if anything for the pain. I’m vouching from personal experience. Hell, at one point, it made it worse. I don’t care though. It’s purpose. Closure. It’s something I have to do, just like before.
Two bites into his food, Roc glances up towards me from his plate. “So, what are you doing after this? Any plans?”
“I have a case I picked up.”
“Oh, like one you’re starting right away? Did I pull you off course?”
“Yeah…but it was worth it. I guess I’m closer than you think.”
“Blaze, you know what I mean. Don’t get lost in this shit. I mean it. You’re an adult. You can do what you want, but—”
“Another psychic. That’s what I’m going after or a necromancer…I think. Same difference.”
“No, not really. Different entirely.”
“We’re going to kill them, anyway. So, does it really matter? Neutralize their magic,” I say as I point my finger in the shape of a gun, “and, bang.”
“We?”
“Yes, we… You want in on this? A rare offer to work side-by-side with your recently emotionally crippled friend?”
“Well, at least you’re open about it.”
“Funny. I was being sarcastic, but I figure we can run this one together to ease your worries. Do you have anything you’re working on at the moment?”
“I’m free,” Roc answers, sidestepping my question.
“Okay, cool. Take a look at this.” I reach into the pocket of my denim jacket and toss a worn journal onto the table. “It was the psychic’s,” I say as Roc reaches over to it and begins to thumb through. “I plan on taking them down… Anyone connected to her. She was powerful. I don’t like how they’re out there playing with people’s emotions and tricking them into making deals, so I’m going to put an end to it.”
“Any leads?”
“Yeah. Flip towards the back. Yeah, right there, the bent page.”
“A name.”
“Yeah, and an address. Two of them… And a date. I figure the first one is for the contact person and the other is for a meetup or something. If you read back a few pages, you can see what she was getting into, or trying, yeah, that’s a better word. She hit a wall, but it was some twisted shit, from what I gathered. It’s coded-talk.”
“One hundred percent,” Roc’s voice drags as he studies the witch’s notes.
“So, you’re good for this? I don’t want to drag you into something you’re not ready for. She was harvesting ingredients for something. Something she couldn’t necessarily do herself. How are your supplies looking?”
“I’m in…and I’m good on my stuff. You?”
“Of course, and we can always make more.”
“Whatever you say, Roc. I’m more than good. Finish your burger. We’ve got work to do.”
Chapter 6: Misery in Missouri
Before we hit the road, I gave Roc the coordinates to where we’d be staying; another motel in the middle of nowhere I booked on a whim in Missouri. It wasn’t too far from where I was when I first made the drive, but partnering up with Roc, made it worth the trip. I was able to deal with the last psychic, but I didn’t like what she said. I played it cool, but those words hit home. She wasn’t a fake, but she could have just been stalling before she mustered up the strength to kill me. It was the perfect mix of bullshit blended in with the truth.
She knew I lost someone and she knew my name, but to know that I was coming and not do anything about it? It didn’t make sense. With inside knowledge she could have easily stayed behind the scenes.
I thump the steering wheel lightly with my thumb and shake my head. She’s still fucking with me from the other side. Awesome.
Having Roc around will better my odds. The last thing I need is to be rolling solo against a band of baddies who raid your mind for fun. At least when I’m done Missouri will be safer once we put an end to whatever they�
�re planning.
All we have to go by is a name, a set of some addresses, and of course, the date that everything’s supposed to go down. No details other than that, which definitely puts a crick in things. We’ll go in with negation rounds but bringing the right type of ammunition is only the first step. Survival is a whole different ball game. There’s always potential for a shit-show whenever magic is involved. It can be unpredictable. Especially, in the hands of skilled practitioners.
****
After what feels like half a day on the road, we finally make it to our motel. Check-in is painless. The guy working the desk doesn’t give two shits about who’s coming and going. I just give him an alias and pay in cash to eliminate a prospective trail.
With newly found access to where I’ll be slumming for the next day or so, I make my way to our room on the first floor. Conveniently, Roc pulls up just as I slide one of the keycards into the slit that unlocks the room. I turn back with a grin as I waggle my eyebrows, knowing that one-star motels always have a special way of greeting you with surprises when you first enter.
And by surprise, I mean stale, moldy air that reminds you of mothballs and cheese.
And, yup. It applies to this one, too.
I place my backpack on the ‘good’ bed, and make a beeline to the AC to get some circulation going. Roc comes in shorty after and I catch him cringing at the faint smell of cheese and hot garbage.
“Never gets old, huh?”
“No, it doesn’t.” He waves his hand in the air, as if clearing a space for him to breathe in oxygen separate from the cloud of funk. “But usually, it isn’t this bad.”
“Yeah, our luck ran out on this one.” I wave, too, and blow from my nostrils. “You’ll go nose-blind in a couple of minutes. So, until then, we prep.”
“Okay, so what are we dealing with here? Necromancers, witches? Have you found anything that can tie them to the area or give us a clue about what they’re planning?” Roc says as he unpacks his laptop. I toss him a flimsy business card with the Wi-Fi password on it.
Blaze Monroe and the Shattered Heart: A Supernatural Thriller (The Hunter Who Lost His Way Book 2) Page 3