Knox threw the car in gear and peeled out into the street. A moment later his phone buzzed and he swiped at the screen. He smiled as he tapped out a message before slipping the phone back into his pocket and abruptly pulling a U-turn. Iris wondered what he was up to.
“Lost much?” she said. Whoever was on the other end of that text seemed to be sending them in a different direction.
“Hunters don’t get lost, they get temporarily disoriented,” her brother said with a grin.
“Okay, well then, care to tell me where we’re going?”
“I’m going—” Knox’s phone vibrated again and this time he put it to his ear. “I said I’m on my way, dude. Chillax.”
His face suddenly turned somber. He sat up straight and cleared his throat.
“Yes, sir.” His eyes darkened. “No, sir. I’m sorry. I thought you were—”
Knox stopped talking. Iris knew there was only one person in the world, witch or otherwise, who could instill such fear in her brother: their dad.
“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure it gets done.” Knox grimaced as he ended the call. A split second later he was back to his typical composed self.
“What was that all about?” she asked. There was a part of her that didn’t want to know. However, Iris felt it was important to stay in the loop. The actress’s death was a game changer.
“Dad,” Knox spit out quickly.
“Oh really?” Iris said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, what did he say?”
“He said the Hunters in San Francisco found a new recruit. He should be arriving at LAX within the hour.”
“Wow,” she said pensively. “You guys haven’t had one of those in, like, forever, right?”
“Something like that. Yeah.”
“Well, let’s go to the airport.”
Knox sucked his teeth. “Actually, you’ll be going alone on this one.”
“What? I thought I’m ‘not allowed to take on assignments alone,’” Iris said with air quotes.
“It’s just a pickup at the airport. Besides, Dex and I have some very important business to attend to.” Knox pulled into an empty, dimly lit parking lot near Coldwater Canyon Park and craned his neck upward, searching the sky.
“What could be more important than picking up a new recruit?” Iris asked. “And what are you looking for?” She stared above her.
Knox smiled, and that’s when Iris detected the faint but familiar sound of an approaching helicopter. Seconds later, a blacked-out chopper bearing the Hunter symbol was hovering above The Armada.
Dex leaned out from the cockpit, keeping the chopper steady with one hand and waving excitedly with the other. “Iris! Hey!” Dex yelled from above. “Thanks for taking care of the pickup! We’ve been wanting to do a nighttime base jump downtown for like, weeks now. You rock!”
Iris glared at Knox. “Really? You have to be freaking kidding me.”
Knox casually shrugged his shoulders. “Thanks, sis,” he said, tossing Iris the keys and giving her a hearty slap on the back. Dex dropped a length of rope and Knox grabbed hold, giving a thumbs-up. The helicopter rose and flew off, disappearing into the darkness.
“Unbelievable,” Iris grumbled, catching a whiff of exhaust as the helicopter flew away. She jammed the keys into the ignition and set off toward the airport.
“This new recruit better be freaking worth it.”
Four
The ever-present California smog coated the city in a thick, gray haze that seemed to congregate around each of the passing freeway lights. The 405 was still congested, but at least it wasn’t bumper to bumper like it was during rush hour.
Iris was filled with mixed emotions as she weaved her way through traffic toward the Los Angeles International Airport. She would much rather have gone base jumping with Knox and Dex, but on the other hand, she was pleased that her brother trusted her enough to pick up the recruit alone. Plus, being behind the wheel felt nice. She was hardly ever allowed to drive.
Her phone rang and she was delighted to see it was her mother, Mia Bently. Iris always had gotten along with her mom, and she desperately wished she carried the Hunter gene too. But she didn’t. No other woman had ever carried the gene before Iris.
“Hey, Mom,” Iris said, putting her phone on speaker.
“Hey, sweetie. What are you up to?”
“Oh you know, another lame assignment.” Iris was never allowed to discuss Hunter business with her mother. For the most part, her mom’s knowledge of the witch-hunting world was limited. Like all Hunters’ wives, she knew witches were a threat that needed to be eliminated, but not much else. If she ever learned more than was deemed necessary, she would be subjected to an Idas spell, wiping her memory clean and planting a new one.
Iris hated how often her mother’s mind was altered, but Hunters’ wives knew exactly what they’d gotten themselves into. Apparently, they considered it an honor just to be married to a Hunter—another thing Iris didn’t really understand. She wanted to fight with them, not marry one.
“Well,” Mia started, “I wanted to let you know that I’m leaving on a late flight tonight for Europe, so I probably won’t see you when you get back.”
“Tonight? Why?” Iris inquired. It wasn’t like her mom to just randomly leave, let alone catch a flight overseas.
“Well, your father wants me to deliver some gear to the Hunters in Spain and he needs me to explain some things to them in Spanish about how their new stuff works.”
“Oh right.” Iris was assigned the same task by her father a few weeks ago but begged him to send someone else so she could complete her third sniper test. She was surprised the “someone else” ended up being her mom, especially since there were a couple of other male Hunters in their branch who could speak Spanish.
Iris didn’t really like the idea of her mom traveling to Spain alone. Not that her mother couldn’t handle it, because she could. But Iris was concerned for her mother’s safety, though she wasn’t sure why.
The thing was, when Max Bently gave orders, it was difficult for him to change his mind. The fact that he did for Iris was somewhat of an anomaly.
Iris knew there was nothing she could do. Her mom was leaving tonight, whether she liked it or not.
“All right, well, when will you be back?’ Iris asked in a concerned tone.
“Probably in a couple—”
“Oh crap!” Iris said, cutting her off. “I missed my exit. I gotta go, but I’ll call you later. Be safe, okay? Love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, sweetie. And drive safe!”
Iris got off at the next exit and snaked her way through several side streets until she was back on track for LAX. She pulled up to a stoplight and froze when she spotted a billboard featuring the actress that was slain earlier that day.
Iris’s vision blurred; her skin tingled. She was flooded with images of the dead starlet: her body lying lifeless on the stairs. The blood. The Cicatrix. The protection detail that wasn’t good enough. And to top if off, the flashes from the Hollywood cemetery that followed. All of it piled up in her brain, and it felt like the air was being sucked from her lungs.
The car behind her honked and Iris noticed the light had turned green. She raced through the intersection and pulled over against the curb, desperately trying to catch her breath.
In through your nose, out through your mouth, she chanted to herself. You got this. In through your nose, out through your—
Her phone buzzed with an e-mail from the San Francisco team.
Recruit Arlo Green is an eighteen-year-old male from Sonoma, California. He will be holding a sign with the question: “What is the real name of Black Widow in Marvel’s Avengers?” Your answer: “Natasha Romanova.”
“Really?” Iris said aloud after reading the message. “These guys couldn’t have come up with a better security question? Come on!”
This was just one example of how Los Angeles had the best Hunters in the nation. Knox would never think up a security question
that ludicrous.
Iris took one more deep breath and put the car in drive. Several streetlights and a few near-fender-benders later she arrived at LAX and parked in their family’s secure airport parking lot.
The airport was crowded as usual. Aside from the normal hustle and bustle, there was a sea of photographers out front snapping pictures, hoping to catch a jet-setting celebrity. “Hey you, in the leather,” one of the paparazzi yelled, pointing at Iris. “You want to come over here and pose for my camera?” The man licked his mouth and winked.
Gross, Iris thought as her lip unveiled a snarl. She kept walking and he shouted a few more vulgar slurs. She stopped in her tracks, desperately wanting to show him he was catcalling at the wrong girl. Maybe even stick her gold knife to his throat. But she was here on a mission. This perv wasn’t worth it.
She walked through the doors, threading her way through the crowd and stood, arms crossed, in front of baggage claim. There was no sign of the new recruit. Iris searched the crowds again, and then she saw him.
The young man stood beside his many suitcases, holding the security question with one hand and the other in his pocket. He looked lost and a little scared, like a puppy who had wandered off from his mom—a puppy with chocolate-brown hair, big beautiful green eyes, a soft baby face, and a lithe but toned body. He was taller than Iris, and he wore a beautiful shade of olive skin. Iris felt like she was in an oven, and her mouth became suddenly dry.
She stole another glance at the boy, but her eyes quickly flicked away as soon as he met her gaze.
Oh my god, pull it together. You’re a Hunter, not some wide-eyed schoolgirl, Iris ordered herself.
She puffed up her chest and walked toward him with strong, confident strides. “Natasha Romanova,” she said, jutting out her chin. This security question was seriously awful.
“Excuse me?” he answered, raising his brow.
“You know … Natasha Romanova. I’m answering the security question. I’m here to pick you up.”
“Oh right.” He grinned. “But you’re like the third person who’s said this to me. Apparently the airport is full of nerds.” He took a step back, his eyes examining her clothes. “But,” he continued, “considering your ‘badass spy outfit,’ and the invisible ‘don’t screw with me’ you have stamped on your forehead, I’m thinking you’re the Witch Hunter, and not the guy in the Hulk shirt.”
Arlo gave a halfhearted wave to a young boy who was standing a few feet away, smiling like a kid on Christmas morning.
“That dude won’t stop staring,” Arlo whispered.
“Well, it’s not his fault, you’re speaking his language.” Iris grabbed the security question, crumbled it up, and tossed it into a nearby trash can. “There we go. Geek-crisis averted,” she teased. “You ready to go?” Iris asked, motioning with her hand toward the door.
“Well,” he hesitated, “here’s the thing. I just went along with this whole ‘we’re sending you to L.A. to be a Hunter thing’ because I thought those guys in San Francisco were going to kick my ass—”
“Wait.” Her face soured. “I don’t understand—”
“Look. I’ve been trying to get to L.A. for like, ever, because I’m a musician, so I figured why not? Free trip, right?”
Iris just stared and a moment later realized her mouth was open. She wasn’t sure if she should laugh at Arlo or scream at him.
“Okay, let me get this straight,” she said, raising her hand. “You just went along with all of this to get a free trip to Hollywood?”
“Well, when you put it that way, I sound like a total dick,” he said with a weak grin. “But, yeah. This just doesn’t seem like a good fit, but I appreciate the opportunity.”
Her mouth had officially dropped. “A good fit? Opportunity?” She furrowed her brows. “This isn’t a freaking job interview—”
“You know,” he said, interrupting her. “I think it’s just best that I pass and take a cab to The Roxy or something.”
“Pass? You’re going to pass on being a Hunter?”
“I’m thinking, yeah. I’d rather just write music, try and make it big. Maybe start a blog. Don’t let my looks fool you, I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
“I’m sorry,” she huffed loudly. “I thought I was picking up a new Hunter recruit, not the next member of One Direction.”
“What?” Arlo’s eyes brightened. “Why? Are they looking for someone?”
Iris blinked hard. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Why would anyone not want to be a Hunter? And what was the deal with this guy? The truth of the matter was, Arlo didn’t have a choice. Iris knew the cold, hard truth: if you carry the Hunter gene, you kill witches, end of story.
She inched closer to the new recruit, sternly meeting his gaze. “Brainwashing spells won’t work on you because you have hunting blood. So if you don’t join us, I’m pretty sure my dad is going to have to kill you.”
“Kill me?” He cringed. “What you mean exactly?”
“Um, kill. You know, ‘take your life.’ Or ‘end you.’ I really don’t know how else to put it,” she huffed out a laugh.
“That sounds a tad bit harsh.” Arlo paused and scratched his chin. “So, just to clarify, if I don’t become a Hunter, you people are going to kill me?”
Iris noticed small beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. “Unfortunately, yes. My orders are to bring you back dead, or alive. Sorry,” she said with sincerity.
“Not as sorry as I am.” Arlo picked up his suitcases and smiled. “Well, you had me at ‘kill.’ Looks like I’m coming with you.”
“Okay, then,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Iris, by the way.”
He hesitated briefly before giving in. “Arlo Green. Singer. Guitarist. Coffee drinker. Occasional runner. And now, apparently, Witch Hunter.”
She forced herself to look him dead in the eyes again as their hands met for the first time. His grip was firm. Much stronger than she’d expected.
“Thanks for that detailed description there, buddy,” Iris said sarcastically.
“I’m thinking it’d make a good Twitter bio, right?”
Iris shook her head but cracked a smile. Suddenly, she wasn’t so angry at Knox for ditching her.
They walked out the airport doors and luckily the photographers had already called it a night. The cool evening air felt nice against her face and the flashing lights in the parking lot soothed her for some reason.
Iris helped Arlo chuck his suitcase in the back of The Armada. She slammed the door and settled into the driver’s seat, Arlo beside her.
“So,” she started, “how’d they find you? We haven’t had a new recruit in years. Most everyone is just born into it. But obviously we can’t control if one of the Hunters has some drunken night and gets a random girl pregnant and then runs off the next day.”
Arlo flinched, giving Iris a surprised look before running his fingers through his shaggy hair. She flushed. The last thing she wanted was to get on bad terms with the new recruit, especially since he was so cute.
She put her hands over her mouth, wearing a look of surprise. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean anything by—”
“That’s okay,” Arlo interjected. “I’ve never known who my dad is, so at least now I have some answers.” He paused, scratching his chin. “About how they found me,” he started, “all I know is I was walking down the street in S.F., on my way to my cousin’s, and then this hot girl shows up. Then, out of nowhere, she gets blown to hell, and all this black crap is sprayed all over me.” Arlo stared out the window and loudly exhaled.
Witch blood. Black as night and thick as tar. But more than anything, Iris was mad the S.F. Hunters took a shot without checking to see if the coast was clear. Amateurs.
“And then,” he continued, “all this fog showed up and it started raining just on this one spot.”
“Sounds like a freaking Ethas witch,” Iris mumbled.
“A freaking Ethas what now?�
�� Arlo asked, a confused expression splashed across his face.
“Witch. You know, what you will be hunting here in Los Angeles.”
“Oh, right,” he glanced at the ground. “I’m just still banking that this is all just some joke or—”
“Well, it’s not. It’s real. Very, very real.” Iris bit her lip and looked at Arlo. She never thought skinny jeans and a zip-up gray sweater could be so attractive. “Look, I know it’s a lot to take in. Very few know our secret, and I’m really sorry you had to find out in the way that you did. But here’s the thing, witch hunting freaking rocks! And I’ll make it up to you,” Iris said with a dubious grin.
“How? By introducing me to your vampire and werewolf friends? Do you know the Cullens too? Are Jacob and Renesmee your next-door neighbors?” Arlo said half seriously.
“Okay, I’m just gonna not focus on the fact that you know Twilight way too well and move on.” Iris laughed and shook her head as she locked onto Arlo’s dark green eyes. He was nothing like any boy she’d ever met in her life. He seemed funny, just the right amount of cocky, but also, kind of sensitive. It was an interesting combo.
“I’ll train you,” Iris offered. “You have the gene, so everything will come naturally. And if for some reason after you train you don’t want to be a Hunter, I’ll find a way to get you out of here without getting killed.”
“Really?” Arlo perked up. “You’d do that?”
Iris wasn’t really sure why she made that promise. It would be nearly impossible to sneak Arlo past her father. But for some reason she had a soft spot for this new recruit, and if he wanted out, she would help him.
“Yeah,” she said. “I promise.”
“All right, well, deal,” he said with an enthusiastic high five.
Iris smiled. “Good.”
“So, you drive a Hummer? You lucky little Hunter.” Arlo grinned flirtatiously.
“Yes, but it’s not just any Hummer. It’s ‘The Armada.’”
“Is it like a special superhero car or something?”
Iris could hear the sarcasm in his voice. “Sort of. You’ll learn all about it. And you’ll learn about these too.” Iris chucked a new pair of Hunter aviators at Arlo, which he deftly caught midair. “Nice reflexes. You just may make a good Hunter after all. And by the way, vampires and werewolves do exist. They just don’t live in Hollywood.”
Hollywood Witch Hunter Page 3