Iris’s mouth went suddenly stale and her stomach fluttered. She couldn’t for the life of her understand why Arlo was being so sweet, especially with how distant she’d been lately.
“Arlo, I can’t take that,” she said gently. “It belonged to your grandfather—”
“I want you to have it,” he assured. His words were sweet as honey. “My mom thinks I’m at some exclusive Hollywood music school where phone calls aren’t allowed, so it’s not like I can call and ask her or anything, but I know she would approve.”
Arlo smiled through his dark green eyes as he dangled the necklace in front of Iris’s face. The gold glistened in the moonlight. It was obviously old but looked like it had been taken care of.
“Are you sure?” Her voice dripped with guilt.
“One hundred percent,” he said sternly. “Plus, who knows? Maybe the extra gold will keep the witches away?”
Iris couldn’t hide her grin any longer. Arlo unclasped the chain and draped it around Iris’s neck. The hair on her body stood on end and she shivered as another flurry of goose bumps rippled across her skin.
“Thank you,” she whispered softly, squeezing his hand.
“You’re welcome.”
Seventeen
Iris was in full-blown Hunter mode.
Dressed in her sports bra and leather hunting pants, she strutted down the street with confidence, holding her head high. Her hips swayed with an exaggerated swagger as she weaved in and out of trick-or-treaters, drawing nearer to the Nomads with every step.
Showtime.
Iris held her breath as she passed the witches. She knew what she had to do. She was ready.
Grabbing her phone and placing it to her ear, she mustered up the most obnoxious, high-pitched voice she could.
“Like, oh. My. God. I dropped like three thou’ on a Prada wallet today. And I saw a guy in there that was wearing an Abercrombie shirt! I mean, Abercrombie. Poor people make me sick.”
A flutter rose into Iris’s chest. She watched as a redheaded witch standing at the front of the group perked up, slowly turning her head. She tracked Iris as she walked by. Her stare was raw. Animalistic.
Realizing she had sparked interest, Iris continued, “And I’m thinking of getting some lip injections and maybe a boob job. Why not, right?” Iris laughed as pretentiously as she could.
She hated how stupid she sounded. Her throat tightened. She hoped they bought it, but more importantly, she hoped they wouldn’t kill her before she made it back.
Stay focused.
“Oh, I think she’s a good one, Katalina,” Iris heard a witch with wavy, golden-brown hair say.
“I’m not so sure, Veronia,” another witch replied. “I can’t get a good read on her.”
“Didn’t you hear what she was saying,” the redheaded witch snapped with authority. “She’s the perfect sacrifice.”
Gotcha.
Iris turned the corner and slipped down a side street, picking up her pace. She didn’t want to move too fast and draw unwanted attention to herself, but the Nomads were narrowing in by the second. Iris quickened her step, but the witches just matched her speed.
They were getting far too close for comfort. A wave of fear smashed over Iris’s body like a stormy ocean tide. She looked over her shoulder and her stomach flipped. More witches were joining the ranks, appearing from shadows with each passing house. The group of ten Nomad witches turned into twenty. Thirty. Forty. And finally, fifty.
Her eyes widened in horror. Knox and Arlo weren’t expecting this many witches. She had to warn them. “Knox! Arlo! Can you hear me?” she whispered in the com.
Silence.
“Dex, are you there?”
No one said a word.
“You jerks better stop messing around ’cause I think we’re in trouble here.” The com turned to static.
It was time to run.
Iris planted herself and set off into a dead sprint, her feet angrily slapping at the pavement as she raced toward her team. The Nomads were fast, but Iris was a Hunter. Her legs pumped like the pistons of a racecar and she sped ahead of the pursuing witches, their cackles fading behind her. Finally, she saw Arlo and Knox waiting in position at the small park at end of the street.
“There’re over fifty witches coming our way!” Iris yelled, frantically waving her hands.
Knox stepped back, his eyes widening. “Fifty witches? How the hell did that happen?”
“I have no idea. They just came out of nowhere,” Iris panted. “And I tried Dex, but our coms have been tampered with. So I’m guessing if he can’t hear us then he can’t see us either.”
Arlo glanced at his bow and quiver of arrows before looking up at Knox. “I know you didn’t want to use your guns, man, but there is no way I can handle this alone.”
“I’ve never heard of that many being together at one time.” Knox ripped open his bag, removing his Hunter rifle and several magazines filled with tox.
Arlo readied his bow.
“Knox, what’s the plan here? We’re running out time and we—” Iris screamed.
Not a normal scream. The type of scream that gives you goose bumps and sends shivers down your spine. The type of scream that makes you believe there’s evil in the world. The type of scream that scars your soul.
The redheaded witch was faster than the others and had caught the Hunters off guard. She jumped off a rooftop, landing beside Iris and scooping her up by the throat before leaping backward. The witch let out an cackle as she held Iris high in the air.
Iris flailed and reached for her blade, but the witch extended her fingernails into talons and swiped at her wrist, tearing her flesh to ribbons.
Iris cried out, but the pain went quickly as her body started to go numb.
“Put my sister down, you stupid bitch,” Knox shouted as he raised his rifle and put a beam on the witch’s head. Arlo drew his bow and prepared to loose an arrow.
The Nomad cackled, holding Iris directly in their line of fire. “What are you going to do, sweetie? Kill me if you want, but you’re outnumbered. There’s nothing you can do.”
The other Nomads slipped out from the shadows, gathering around their leader. The Hunters were more than outnumbered. They were screwed.
Iris coughed as the witch tightened her grip. Her face turned red as she struggled to free herself.
“I’m counting to three, witch, and you’re dead,” said Knox. “I give you my word, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”
“Oh you’re threatening me, are you?” the witch cooed in a sexy tone. “Fantastic.” She flared her nostrils and closed her eyes, taking in every moment of Knox’s frustration.
“Just let me have the girl, and we won’t kill you,” the Nomad witch bargained. She smiled gleefully as she continued to hold Iris as if she were as light as a feather.
“That’s not going to happen,” Knox said firmly, still holding his gun high. His grip was firm. His stance, strong. “How about you drop my sister and we won’t kill you.”
“Ha.” The witch let out a laugh. “Is that what you really want, Hunter? For me to drop your sister?”
“Yes. Let her go.”
Then, faster than Iris could comprehend, the witch did let her go, but she found herself rising upward, high into the sky, and felt something sharp digging into her back. It was a large hawk summoned by the redheaded Matas witch. She slashed behind her with her knife and a second later, the hawk released its grip and loudly cawed.
Iris was now plummeting back toward the ground. Her eyes went wide as she reached for something, anything, but found nothing.
Everything was happening in slow motion: She watched from the sky as Arlo and Knox fought off witch after witch. There were splashes of black blood. It was fresh, messy, and dropping all over the place. They were still outnumbered but fighting hard.
Iris started to fall faster. With every second she moved closer to the ground. This is it. She closed her eyes.
But instead of smashing
into the pavement Iris hung and felt a strange tugging sensation. She dared to open one of her eyes and saw that she was suspended in midair, just feet above the ground.
The remaining Nomads clutched at their heads, howling as they fell to their knees.
Knox and Arlo stepped back, their heads swiveling from side to side, searching for a possible explanation.
Then, a woman with long, blond hair appeared from nowhere. She threw herself in front of the Hunters, her open hand extended toward Iris.
It was the queen of the Hollywood Coven.
Belinda closed her hand and Iris dropped several feet, landing to the ground with a weak thump.
Iris breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe.
For now.
Belinda shifted her attention to the Nomads, still writhing in agony. Belinda waved her hand and the witches slowly rose to their feet.
“Get behind me,” Belinda commanded Arlo, Iris, and Knox.
They followed her orders. If for some reason Belinda was saving their lives, now was not the time to argue about it.
The Nomads hissed and bared their teeth, inching closer.
“Enough!” Belinda boomed, her voice echoing through the neighborhood. “Leave now and I will spare your stupid lives.”
“You pathetic witch. You think you can steal our sacrifice?” a Nomad with cocoa-colored hair spewed.
The Nomads charged forward and Belinda threw out her hand sending forth a powerful gust of wind. The witch closest to her exploded, chunks of her black, viscous blood flying in all directions.
Then another Nomad exploded, and another, until all that was left was a thick sheet of black goo.
Belinda lowered her hand and stumbled forward. She looked exhausted, or even weak. Iris’s mouth nearly dropped to the floor. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
What the hell is going on here?
Belinda turned around, facing a stunned Arlo, Iris, and Knox. The witch locked her gaze on Iris, standing before her drenched in black blood. Iris couldn’t find her voice. She couldn’t move a muscle.
“Um … thank you?” Arlo said, breaking the silence. He extended his hand, smiling.
Belinda just stared at him.
“B!” Levana shouted running toward Belinda. “Where did you go? Why did you just run off—” Levana clapped her hand over her mouth, staring at the blood and guts covering the field of grass. “Oh. My. God. What happened?”
The witch stiffened. “Um … Let’s just get out of here, Lev.”
Iris stepped forward. “Belinda. Wait.” She held out her hand. “Why would you help us?”
Belinda stared at Iris but said nothing.
“Tell me!” Iris pleaded. “I need to know!” Iris was shaking, on the verge of tears from the shock.
A moment later Belinda disappeared into the darkness.
“Great.” Iris sighed deeply, steadying the impending lump in her throat. Suddenly, she heard static in her earpiece.
“Guys, can you hear me? Hello?”
“Dex! What the hell happened? Where were you, man?” Knox shouted toward the sky.
“The coms went down and the chopper just got a mind of her own. She started flying in circles, dude. Have you seen any witches yet?”
“Unbelievable,” Iris muttered.
“Forget it,” Knox said. “Just bring the bird around. We’re going to need a mass Idas spell, like right now. And get a recovery shot ready for me.” Knox touched the open wound on his side and winced. “Make it two.”
The Nomads’ black blood had already begun smoking and would soon disappear, leaving no evidence. But the fight had drawn too much attention.
“Roger. One mass Idas spell and two recovery shots coming right up,” Dex said, bringing the helicopter in close. A bright beam of blue energy emanated from the chopper’s spotlight, hitting every house and car window.
The sky thundered and it started to drizzle. Iris looked up, closing her eyes as the rain of Ethas hit her face. She sighed slowly as it washed away the last bit of blood from her hands.
Eighteen
“Sir, I assure you, there is no explanation for how this all happened. It’s just a blur at the point,” Knox explained to his dad during a video call.
Iris stood nervously by his side, her sweaty hands clutched tightly behind her back. She hadn’t said a word since the call started.
“Iris?” her dad asked from behind the screen. “Do you have anything to say?”
“No, sir. We’re not sure what happened.” She gulped, wiping the sweat from her upper lip.
“Do you two have any idea how awful this is?” Her dad raised his voice. “Belinda is going to hang this over our heads. Like we owe her something.”
Their dad was right. With Belinda, everything came with a price and for the life of her, Iris still couldn’t figure out why Belinda helped them last night.
Iris painfully sighed. “Well … there’s something else.” Her voice was wavering.
“Yes.” Her dad drew out the word.
“I’m not so sure if Belinda really killed that actress or those people at Rodeo Drive.”
“Have you lost your mind? You actually believe her?” Her dad’s face burned red as blood, even through the computer screen.
“I’m just saying there’s a possibility that it wasn’t her,” Iris explained, running her fingers through her hair.
“Well, wonderful.” He threw his hands up. “So Belinda didn’t kill those people, and she saved you guys. Did she become a freaking nun too?”
Iris flinched. “I don’t really have any answers, Dad, I mean, sir. I just think we need to do some more investigating. Also, she was, like, super powerful last night. I mean she’s always powerful, but her spells seemed … amplified.”
Her dad’s eyes turned to stone. “Knox?” Max said sternly. “Is this true?”
“Yes, sir.” Knox nodded his head.
“Well, you guys need to figure this out,” he shouted. “Iris, this doesn’t look good for you. The actress’s death, the murders at Rodeo Drive, and now this? I’m going to need some answers to bring to the board.”
“All right,” she interjected. “I’ll get you some. Promise.” She hoped she could follow through. The call ended abruptly and Iris let out a long breath.
“This is a freaking mess,” Knox said. He kicked the ground and clenched his fists.
“I know.” She paused, taking a seat on the couch in her father’s office. Knox followed suit.
“By the way, have you heard from Mom at all since she went to Spain?” Iris asked. For some reason, she was worried. It wasn’t like her mother to not call and check in.
“No,” Knox said, scratching his head. “Have you?”
“Not at all.” Iris stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. Her mind was racing. “She’s okay, right? I’m sure Dad’s heard from her. He’d probably say something if he hadn’t?”
“Yeah. I guess.” Knox shrugged his shoulders. “But Dad’s been so caught up in whatever he’s doing in Wales, who knows if he’d even notice.”
Iris was taken aback. It wasn’t like her brother to say anything about their father. But she agreed with him.
She let out a long breath. “So what do we do about this Belinda nightmare?”
“Well, I don’t know about you,” Knox huffed, “but I’m grabbing Dex and some Jack Daniels and we’re taking it easy today.”
“Booze?” Iris playfully smacked her brother on the back. “You’re only eighteen. I just don’t think you drinking is a good idea. How are you going to lead us if you’re all drunk?”
Her brother had two modes: full throttle, or nothing at all. He’d never been a balanced person, so Iris found it hard to believe that he could moderate anything addictive. And naturally, this concerned her.
“Look, I rarely drink, okay,” Knox assured. “And I would never drink on the job. Plus, Dad’s not here, Mom’s not here, and yesterday a witch saved our freaking lives. I think I’m allowed a drink or two
and a day off.”
Iris knew she wouldn’t win this battle with her brother so she shook her head and left her dad’s office before she got even more worried.
She walked down to the W.H.O. underground in search of Professor Alavaraz. She wanted to know more about Belinda. Had she ever saved a human before? Was her power always this strong? How exactly did she sacrifice Marilyn Monroe?
She figured if she could understand the witch, maybe she could figure out if she was lying or not.
“Hey, killer,” Deacon said, coming up behind Iris like a ghost. He snickered as he stood behind her.
She turned around quickly. “Leave me alone, you skeez,” Iris said venomously.
Deacon Wexler stood at about her height and was incredibly cocky. Iris couldn’t really stand the guy, but being a son of W.H.O. board member Gerald Wexler had its perks. Otherwise, he would never be here, witch-hunting gene or not.
“Looks like your brother and your boyfriend aren’t here to protect you, huh?” Deacon gave her a smug look.
Iris jumped. “First of all, I don’t need Knox to protect me. I have no freaking problem kneeing you in the balls so hard your chances of children are completely screwed. Second, Arlo is not my boyfriend, and even if he was, it’s none of your freaking business.”
“Well, good. For his sake.”
“What the hell is your problem, Deacon?” she said through her gritted teeth. “You’ve never said two words to me before, now you’re all on my ass!”
“Maybe I’m just sick of you getting special treatment because you’re Max Bently’s daughter.”
Iris rolled her eyes.
“Really?” she said. “This coming from the boy who is such a poor Hunter his dad keeps him in the classroom just so he won’t screw things up in the field?”
“You know,” he continued, “maybe I’m a little pissed that you let an actress get killed on your watch.”
Her eyes broadened and her mouth hung open. “That wasn’t my fault,” she shouted.
“I guarantee you, none of us guy Hunters would have let that happen.”
Iris’s muscles tightened. Her skin flushed and a rush of energy coursed through her veins like an IV of caffeine. “Excuse me?”
Hollywood Witch Hunter Page 11