Hollywood Witch Hunter

by Valerie Tejeda

  “Well,” Arlo continued, “how about we go get Knox a whole cheesecake …”

  “A whole cheesecake? Look, if you’re trying to fatten him up, it won’t work. My brother’s metabolism is seriously perfect. He could down that shiz with no problem and still be freaking ripped. It’s disgusting.”

  “No … not trying to fatten him up.” Arlo let loose a smirk. “I was just thinking since it’s his favorite, maybe that’ll help cheer him up. I mean, cheesecake makes everything better. And I’m sure he’s bound to get sick of candy bars and liquor soon enough.”

  Iris bobbed her head. “You really think a cheesecake is going to help my brother feel better about the fact that a witch saved his life last night?”

  “It’s worth a shot, right?”

  Slowly, deliberately, Iris removed her sunglasses and placed them on top of her head. She studied Arlo like a statue in an art gallery, as if she was committing the lines of his face to memory. He was certainly easy on the eyes.

  “Fine. Let’s go get him some cheesecake,” she finally said. “At least it gives us something to do. We need to try to snap him out of this fast,” Iris explained as they hopped into The Armada. “There’s a charity event tonight at the Chateau Marmont. Tons of celebs will be there, and we need to be part of the team that’s on watch.”

  “Shut up. The Chateau Marmont?” Arlo squealed. “Do you have any idea how many legends have stayed there? I’m talking James Dean, John Lennon, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera!”

  Iris smiled. Arlo’s excitement was contagious. “Well, you better wipe that starstruck look off your face, dude, because, as you know, part of our job as Hunters is protecting famous peeps as well as their fans. So be prepared for lots of red carpet events, award shows, and concerts.”

  “Freaking A!”

  Iris and Arlo cruised past the Hollywood Hills toward the closest Cheesecake Factory. Their conversation in The Armada felt strained. Iris was still irked by Arlo spending the afternoon with a witch, even though it was her idea.

  “Man,” Iris said from the driver’s seat. “I still can’t believe you just hung out with Belinda like that. I mean, she’s a freaking witch, and also … a total bitch.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Arlo said defensively. “I mean, she did save our lives last night is all I’m saying.”

  Iris slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel. The car came to a screeching halt off to the side of the road. She felt like Arlo was drifting away, like a feather in the wind. She wanted to catch him before he fluttered too far.

  “Okay, okay, let me stop you right there,” Iris started, pointing her finger. “I don’t know why Belinda saved our lives last night, but the bottom line is, it wasn’t to help us.” Iris’s face turned crimson. Her hands trembled and her knuckles whitened as she clenched the wheel.

  “Look, I didn’t mean it like that,” Arlo shot back in a calm tone. “I’m just saying, sometimes we don’t understand why people do what they do.”

  Iris’s eyes darkened. “Witches are not people, Arlo,” she whispered. “Don’t forget that.”

  Arlo reached over and grabbed her hand. He was cut off by the deafening sound of crunching metal as part of the roof suddenly caved and buckled, as if an enormous anvil had fallen from the sky. A woman’s body, bloodied and tattered, slid down the windshield and onto the hood before rolling lifelessly to the ground with a sickening thud.

  “Oh my God!” Iris shrieked, throwing her hands over her mouth.

  Blood and bits of gore dripped down the windows. Iris felt her stomach heave as she stared at the streams of red trickling down the shattered glass.

  “What … the hell … was that?” Arlo said. There was panic in his voice.

  “Nomads,” Iris seethed.

  In the distance stood two witches who looked strangely familiar. They grinned devilishly, standing their ground at a safe distance from The Armada and its array of Hunter weaponry.

  “What …” Arlo stammered. “What are they doing here?”

  “Looks like they’re trying to taunt us, I’d guess,” Iris said with a defiant snarl.

  “They can throw a body that far? Why … Why’d they kill that woman like that? Did you see her body?”

  “Arlo, you need to pull it together!” Iris shouted, grabbing tightly at his arms.

  “Okay.” He let out a breath. “What’s the plan?”

  Iris dived into the backseat. “Here,” she said, throwing Arlo his bow and cocking a hunting pistol for herself.

  “Wait, what?” Arlo said, staring at the weapons. “Just floor it and run them over. Or get closer and use your James Bond-y missile launcher that comes out of the headlights, or whatever secret weapons it is that you have in this thing.”

  “No,” Iris asserted. “They’ll run and we’ll lose them as soon as they hit a populated area.” She screwed the suppressor onto her witch-hunting gun. “They think they’re luring us into a trap. Stupid, stupid, freaking Nomads.”

  Iris stepped out of The Armada, slamming the door behind her. Arlo followed suit. “Hey! We’re not afraid of you!” Iris shouted. She was taunting them back, giving them a taste of their own medicine.

  The Nomads cackled and ran toward Iris and Arlo. Iris broke into a dead sprint with Arlo by her side, racing straight toward the Nomads. The witches hissed, and one of them threw her hands out to her sides as her nails extended into razor-sharp talons.

  Iris fired several times, but missed. Arlo notched and released an arrow, but the witches dodged effortlessly out of the way.

  These Nomads were quick, and the distance between them was closing fast. Suddenly, the ground shook around Arlo and Iris, making it difficult for them to move.

  “Is this an earthquake?” Arlo shouted, trying to find his balance.

  “Something like that,” Iris yelled back. The Ethas raised her arm and the ground vibrated more rapidly. Iris readied her weapon. She knew it would be a near-impossible shot with the unsteady ground, but she had to try. With her feet still hammering into the pavement, she pointed her weapon and fired. The dart hit the witch, but it wasn’t enough.

  The witch crashed into Iris, landing on top of her and knocking the air out of her lungs and the gun from her hands. Iris shrieked. She reached for her knife to put an end to this Nomad, when an arrow flew through the witch’s neck. The earthquake stopped.

  “Nice shot,” Iris shouted at Arlo.

  “Where’d the other one go?” he asked, notching another arrow.

  Iris jumped to her feet and unsheathed her blade. Seemingly from nowhere, a projectile hurtled past her face and struck Arlo’s bow, knocking it from his hands, and snatching an arrow in the process. The remaining Nomad materialized from thin air, plugging the arrow into Iris’s side, slicing through her skin like a samurai sword.

  She reeled back and clutched at her abdomen. The witch cackled again and Iris growled as she lunged forward, sinking her blade into the witch’s shoulder.

  The Nomad howled and lashed out with her talons, tearing at Iris’s neck.

  “Any time now, dude!” she screamed as she defended the Nomad’s relentless attacks. “Duck!”

  Iris dropped to the ground and an arrow whizzed over her head, sinking into the witch’s chest. The witch stumbled backward, looking down at the arrow in surprise. Iris didn’t hesitate. In a single, fluid motion she leaped to her feet and wildly swung her blade.

  The witch’s head fell to the pavement. Her body followed shortly after and the howling wind died down.

  “Jeez … Take a little longer?” Iris groaned. Blood oozed from her wounds and she swayed, trying to steady her feet.

  “Are you okay?” Arlo said. He came beside her, gently touching the wounds on her shoulders and neck.

  His eyes widened with concern. “Iris, we need to get you back to the Fortress right now. You’re hurt and bleeding—”

  “I’m fine,” she coughed. “I’ll get a recovery shot when we get back to The Armada. I’ll be good as
new before we know it.” Iris smiled, trying to stay positive, though she was in serious pain. “But first, we’re going to talk to that other asshat of a witch. She seems to still have a few minutes left in her.”

  “Oh please, spare me,” the Nomad gurgled through crackling breaths. The arrow had pierced her neck and jutted out as she lay sprawled across the ground.

  “Shut up!” Iris snapped. “Or you’ll end up like your friend over there.” She pointed to the decapitated witch.

  A damnable smile crept across the Nomad’s face. “You have no idea what’s about to happen. Do you, hun?”

  “Well, I know what’s about to happen to you,” Iris quipped. She turned to Arlo and said, “Let’s just kill her already.”

  She cackled through her perfectly white teeth. “You Hunters are blind to the truth that’s right before your eyes.”

  “What truth?” Iris demanded, leaning closer.

  “All of you are going to be dead soon and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

  Iris flinched, then grinned. “Oh shut up.”

  “I promise you this,” the Nomad continued, “everyone in this city will be dead. Thanks to a new witch in town.”

  “What do you mean?” Iris demanded, twisting her boot into the witch’s wounds.

  The Nomad squealed in agony, choking on her own black blood, before breaking into a sinister laugh. “I’m not telling,” she teased.

  “Listen, you better tell us everything you know,” Arlo whispered to the witch as he knelt down beside her.

  “Now, why should I do that?” the witch said coyly.

  “Because if you don’t,” Arlo said softly, “I’m going to repeatedly shoot you until you do. And trust me, I’m good with my arrow.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” the witch said with a wink, moving her eyes to just below his waist. “Fine. I guess I can give you a little information. In exchange for my life.”

  The ball was now in Iris’s court, and she chose to play the game like a pro.

  Not a chance in hell.

  “Deal,” Iris said.

  “So I have your word, then?” the witch asked, still choking out her words.

  “Yes, promise.”

  The witch coughed and hacked before continuing. “Well, according to a prophecy by a witch doctor, a plague is going to be released in L.A. killing witches, Hunters, and humans—”

  “What? A prophecy? A witch doctor?” Iris interrupted her. “This is a bunch of crap and sounding way too much like a straight to DVD movie. Nice freaking try.”

  Iris knew this couldn’t be the truth. Belinda owned this town and she would never allow some plague to be released that could affect her reign over Hollywood. This was total crap.

  “Fine. Don’t believe me,” she said, propping herself up onto her elbows. “But when this plague gets released, you and your stupid family won’t be able to do anything about it.” The witch cackled and cackled, louder and louder, crescendoing to an earsplitting roar.

  Iris’s vision went blurry. Could this really be true? A plague that could destroy everyone in Los Angeles? For the first time in a long time Iris was paralyzed with fear. She had to take matters into her own hands. She stood above the witch, aiming her knife at the middle of her forehead. Her heart slammed into her rib cage as she shoved it hard into her skull. A sharp crack echoed through the emptiness. Silence followed, and moments later a light tremor quaked through the earth.

  Nomads really were quite stupid.

  “Nice!” Arlo said, holding up his hand for a high five. “Maybe next time she’ll think twice before taunting a Hunter, huh?”

  Iris reached for the high five but missed. Her body swayed and her wobbling knees threatened to give out. Arlo threw his arms around her and held her tight as she started to slip out of consciousness. As the world around her faded to black she kept her gaze on Arlo’s face, filled with compassion, concern, and also, something else.

  Twenty-Two

  Iris woke up in a hospital bed in The Fortress. “Arlo?” she whispered softly, her eyes barely cracking open. She glanced down at her body to find her injuries mostly healed, leaving behind thin strips of raised, pink skin.

  Beside her stood the W.H.O. physician, Dr. Lang. He had a warm smile on his face as he checked the fluid bag connected to Iris’s IV.

  “Feeling like yourself yet?” he asked from beside her bed.

  She grabbed her head. “Yeah. I think so.” Her eyes frantically darted back and forth, glancing at the white walls surrounding her. The air was dry and cold and the room smelled like Band-Aids, rubbing alcohol, and latex gloves.

  “You sustained some pretty serious injuries there,” Dr. Lang said. “You’re lucky your friend got you back when he did.”

  Friend.

  The last thing Iris remembered was blacking out in Arlo’s arms.

  “Where is he?” Iris asked Dr. Lang with a wide gaze.

  “I’m not sure,” he quickly replied. “And your brother said you could sit out the Marmont protection detail if you need to.”

  Crap.

  The last thing Iris needed was to miss the protection detail. She didn’t want to look incompetent. She reached into her pocket, grabbed her phone, and saw a text waiting.

  Iris. Hey. I wanted you to know that I left with one of The Armadas. I’m going to find Belinda. What the Nomad said freaked me out and I think I can get some more information out of her. Please don’t be mad. I promise I’ll be safe. Get some rest and feel better soon. I would pretty much die if something happened to you. Arlo :)

  Her heart fluttered as she read the text over and over just to make certain she didn’t miss anything. She opened the Hunter tracker app on her phone and pinpointed The Armada near Griffith Park.

  “I’m going to check on another patient,” Dr. Lang explained with a soothing tone. “You stay put and rest, all right?” He patted her on the shoulder.

  Iris nodded. The second he left the room she hopped out of bed, stiff from her wounds. Sure, she needed time to heal and should probably be in bed for the rest of the evening, but Iris didn’t care. She was going to find Arlo, and no injury could get in her way.

  Belinda, here I freaking come.

  Iris was like a cat on the prowl. She tiptoed through the underground W.H.O facility, ducking behind chairs, jumping between halls, and hiding in the smallest of corners. Right now, she made James Bond look like a freaking joke.

  She was high on adrenaline when she finally made it out the front door undetected, and sighed, taking in the moist evening air. It was full of smog but still felt refreshing after being cooped up in the hospital.

  Now, she just needed a vehicle.

  Iris searched the garage and discovered all The Armadas were being used for the night. Great. And the dirt bikes? Completely destroyed, thanks to Knox and Dex. Iris needed to be creative.

  Still on foot, she ran out to the gates, frantically searching for options. She saw a motorcycle parked a few houses down. That could work, she thought. Not that Iris wanted to steal a motorcycle, but she was stuck between a rock and a hard place and she needed to get to Griffith as fast as she could. Calling a cab would have taken too long.

  She started toward the motorcycle when she saw a boy getting into a small beige BMW across the street. He looked like he was in high school. Average size, average build, a young face trapped in a changing body.

  Perfect.

  “Hey!” Iris shouted, waving her hands. The boy didn’t hear her and hopped into the driver’s seat, thrusting the keys into the ignition. The engine revved and Iris ran as fast as she could toward the boy’s car.

  She threw open the door and jumped into the backseat, pulling her gold knife from her side and holding it to the boy’s neck. It wasn’t one of her shining moments.

  “Drive!” she ordered. Her palms started to sweat.

  The boy gasped and seemed to stop breathing for a moment. Iris felt horrible but she didn’t intend to hurt him. She just needed a ride.
<
br />   “What are you doing?” he shouted, holding up his hands. His voice sounded panicked. “I don’t have any money, I swear.”

  “I don’t want your money, I just want you to take me to Griffith Park,” Iris explained. The car was surprisingly clean, except for the empty In-N-Out Burger soda cup.

  “Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me,” the boy begged with pleading eyes.

  “I’m not going to kill you, all right?” she spat. “Just … drive!”

  Iris knew this was completely reckless, but she wasn’t in the frame of mind to worry about the consequences. Plus, it wasn’t like the boy would remember this once she was done with him anyway. So no harm, no foul.

  The boy put the car in drive and skidded down the street. “This isn’t like some weird day-after-Halloween prank, right?” he asked. His body was stiff.

  “Nope,” Iris shot back. “Just a good ole fashion carjacking,” she said with sarcasm.

  “Wow,” he mumbled. “Awesome.”

  She blinked with surprise. “You think the fact that I’m holding a knife to your throat is awesome?”

  “Kinda, yeah,” he admitted with no shame. “Plus, you’re hot.” His face turned red. “And, girls at my school never talk to me.”

  Iris’s eyes saddened and the guilt set in.

  “Why don’t they talk to you?” she asked with curiosity. The boy seemed nice enough. Iris had never hijacked a car before, but she didn’t imagine the driver would be this friendly.

  “I don’t know,” the boy finally answered. “Maybe ’cause I’m not on the freaking football team. And all these jock assholes make fun of me every day.” He sighed. “Sometimes I just wish they would stop.”

  Iris lowered her knife and put it back in her pocket as a large pit swallowed up her stomach.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll still take you to Griffith Park,” the boy said. “Tonight’s the fall dance at my school and I don’t have a date so I was just planning on driving around to … nowhere. I really have nothing better to do.”

  Iris let out a long breath. She knew nothing about this boy except from what she gathered from staring at the back of his ash-brown hair. But it wasn’t easy trying to fit in.