Hollywood Witch Hunter

by Valerie Tejeda

  “Please don’t kill me,” the witch pleaded. “I’m not under Belinda’s curse.”

  Iris lowered her knife. “What are you talking about?”

  “I—”

  “Help!” a young boy that couldn’t have been a day over five years old screamed from the other side of the beach. He was sucked into a large wave and couldn’t keep his head above water.

  “So you gonna kill me even though I’m innocent, or are you going to save the boy?” the witch whispered.

  Iris reluctantly jumped to her feet, throwing off her jacket and glasses and kicking off her boots. She ran full speed toward the boy who was getting sucked into the wave’s undertow.

  “Iris, wait!” Silos yelled.

  But she didn’t stop. She dived headfirst into the ocean, swimming hard through the strong tide. She frantically looked for the boy and nearly panicked when she spotted a motionless head of blond hair bobbing in the water.

  She grabbed the boy’s body and quickly swam to shore, trying her best not to drown in the process.

  “Silos!” she panted, carrying the boy’s lifeless body. “He’s not breathing.”

  She gently laid the boy on the sand and searched for a pulse. “People are staring. Where’re my glasses?”

  “It’s okay. Just take a breath,” he said, handing Iris her aviators. “You got this.”

  Iris nodded her head. She blew into the boy’s mouth and started compressions on his chest. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.

  Immediately, the boy coughed, jolting upright as he spit out a mouthful of seawater.

  Iris sighed in relief. “He’s okay,” she whispered as a smile grew across her face. “We did it.”

  “No. You did it.” Silos grinned. “I didn’t use my Curas spells. It was all you.”

  “What the hell is going on here?” A tan woman with light brown hair charged up and knelt beside the boy. She was with the sunbathing group who had been sneaking booze. Her breath smelled of liquor and she was definitely intoxicated. “What did you do to my son?” the woman demanded.

  “What did I do?” Iris shot back. “He was drowning and I saved him!”

  “Well, I didn’t see him drowning.” The woman grabbed the boy and pulled him close. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but I’m not giving you any money.”

  “Money? I don’t want any money!” Iris shouted.

  “Really? Well then, what are you after? Are you trying to get a green card or something?”

  Iris rolled her eyes. “Can you just look here for a second, please?” Iris said, pointing to her aviators.

  “Why would I need to look at your—”

  The woman stopped talking. “God. Finally,” Iris huffed. “Okay. Here’s what happened. Your son got caught in a wave, but he made it out fine. Now, you’re going to stay at the beach until you can sober up. Then you’re going to drive home. Oh, and no more vodka. Understood?”

  The woman nodded her head and stared blankly at Iris.

  “All right.” Iris turned to Silos. “Let’s go.”

  They turned to walk away. “Wait!” the young boy yelled. He ran up to Iris and gave her a hug. “Thank you for saving me,” he said before running back to his mom.

  Iris smiled. “You’re welcome,” she whispered, even though he could not hear it.

  “Why didn’t you tell his mum the truth when you changed her memory?”

  “What’s the point? You heard what she said. She thought I was looking for money or a green card. Why bother?”

  Iris shivered and she suddenly became very aware she was soaking wet.

  “Come here,” Silos said, holding out his arms. “Let me help dry you off.”

  “How? You hiding a towel under that tight shirt?”

  “Just come here.”

  Silos grabbed her waist and pulled her close. The second their bodies touched, Iris felt warm. Her clothes started to dry and her hair followed. In a matter of minutes it was almost as if she was never in the ocean in the first place.

  “Let me guess. More magic?” Iris said, gazing up into his blue eyes.

  “I can’t help myself.” Silos leaned in slowly, touching his mouth to hers. A blanket of heat consumed her body and she melted into his arms, enjoying every brush of his soft lips. She slowly pulled away.

  “Thanks for the help back there, by the way,” Iris said with a feigned scowl. “Luckily, I’m a good swimmer.”

  “You were doing a fine job on your own. You didn’t need my help.” Silos brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Really?” Iris bit her lip.

  “Aye. Besides, I was keeping an eye on the witch.”

  “Oh ya? So where is she?” Iris looked around. “Because I don’t see her anywhere, which means you didn’t do such a good job.” She smirked.

  “I let her go.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re impossible.”

  “I know.” He leaned in for another kiss but Iris pulled back.

  “My dad kicked me off the team today,” she said, looking down. “I’m not a Hunter anymore.”

  He grabbed her chin, pulling her face up toward his. “Listen to me. Whether or not you’re on the team, means nothing. You’ll always be a Hunter. You were born to be one.”

  Iris smiled and swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

  Silos held her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. She closed her eyes as chills filled her body. She lifted to her tippy toes, devouring his silky mouth and tasting his sweet breath. Any reservations she had were washed away with the tide.

  She opened her mouth wider, meeting his tongue as it tickled her teeth. He grabbed the back of her neck and held her tighter.

  His hands ran down her cheeks as they both came up for air. She didn’t want it to stop, but there was somewhere she needed to be.

  “Come on, love. Let’s go.”

  Thirty

  Iris and Silos pulled up to a hidden home in Malibu with a stunning beach view. The front yard was lined with palm trees and the white walls of the house were angular and covered with expansive windows. The air smelled of freshly cut grass with a hint of tropical flowers and ocean salt.

  “Not bad for a warlock,” Iris said, smiling at Silos. “I want to know who his real estate agent is.”

  Iris snickered and followed Silos up the narrow yet perfectly manicured front porch. He knocked twice and the door opened slowly.

  There stood a man, tall and muscular with sun-kissed skin and wearing a loosely fitted white T-shirt with cream khaki pants. His hazel eyes had hues of honey that matched the Southern California sunset, and his chestnut-brown hair was sprinkled with a few strands of silver.

  Iris assumed he had been alive for centuries, considering he was a warlock and all. But judging by his hair and skin, he looked to be in his midthirties. There was something familiar about him, though Iris couldn’t place it.

  “Silos! So good to see you, my brother!” Helmer nearly yelled, embracing him with a hug. Like Silos, Helmer spoke with an accent.

  Iris followed Silos through the front door, unsure of what to expect on the other side. The inside of the home was simple and surprisingly immaculate. There was not a trace of dust and the walls were bare except for a few photos. The furniture was modern: green couches, black square tables, and beige rugs. Iris expected something magical, like potions or spell books, not decor that looked like it was ripped from a page of an IKEA catalog.

  “It’s good to see you alive and well, my lord,” Silos said with a slight bow. “I’ve been searching for you since I heard you left. But why are you here?”

  “I didn’t have any other option.” Helmer sighed. “Right after you left, our coven was attacked, but I’m glad you weren’t there to see it.” Helmer paused and turned his attention to Iris. “And I see you brought Miss Iris Maria Bently as I anticipated.”

  Iris stopped in her tracks, shifting her gaze away from the warlock’s interior design and meetin
g his eyes. “You knew I was coming? Did you tell him?” She peered over at Silos who shook his head.

  “No, Iris,” Helmer interjected. “I called upon a friend of mine, a Protas, who can see into the future. You’re a very smart Hunter, you know. Resilient too. And so resourceful. My, how your future is bright. Challenging, but bright.”

  Iris flinched. How did he know so much about her?

  “This Protas is also responsible for the visions you’ve both been having,” Helmer continued. “It was the only way to bring you two together, in hopes you would find me.”

  Iris felt the wind leave her body as she peered at Silos, who looked equally surprised. “Are you really being held here against your will?” Iris asked, squinting her eyes.

  “Let’s have some tea, shall we?” Helmer replied, completely ignoring her question. He motioned his arm toward the kitchen. “I’m a big fan of Earl Grey with one sugar and just a dash of milk. How do you take yours?”

  Iris took a seat at the table. “I’m fine, thank you. I’m more of a coffee person,” she said, not completely sure why she added that little detail. Plus, Iris was never the type to take a drink from a stranger. She knew better than that.

  “Fair enough.” Helmer laughed. “Silos?”

  “Tea with two sugars sounds great, my lord. Thank you.”

  Helmer filled up a red kettle with water and grabbed some tea bags and cups from the cupboard. “To answer your question, Iris, your father is the one holding me here,” Helmer said, nonchalantly.

  “What?” She jumped to her feet. “My dad?”

  The kettle released a high-pitched whistle and violently rattled as steam shot from the spout. It looked like it was going to blow, and strangely, that’s exactly how Iris felt.

  Helmer turned off the stove and poured the tea. He walked slowly toward the table, cups in hand, staring at Iris with every step.

  “Have a seat, dear,” he said, nodding toward the chair. Iris complied, though his calm demeanor and casual ‘tea making’ was driving her mad.

  “Let me explain.” He slowly sipped his drink. “Your father is holding my coven in Wales hostage until I finish the task he assigned to me. He has the entire place surrounded with gold atomizer bombs containing a very strong concentration of our poison. One wrong move on my part and he pulls the trigger.”

  The room started spinning. Sure, Iris knew her father wasn’t some angel, but she didn’t believe he could do this. This had to be some mistake.

  “I had a feeling our coven was in trouble after I couldn’t make contact, but I never dreamt it was anything like this.” Silos’s voice was surprisingly unsteady and his face burned crimson.

  Iris was stunned. This was the most emotion she’d seen him show since they met. Besides them making out, of course.

  “Would you mind giving Iris and me a moment alone?” Helmer asked, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  Silos let out a long huff. “Of course, my lord,” he said reluctantly. He took another sip of his hot tea and stood up from the table. “I will be outside if you need me.” He furtively glanced at Iris before walking out the door.

  “Well. Now that he’s gone, you can shout at me if you’d like.” Helmer grinned. “I know you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

  Iris’s face was suddenly warm and itchy and she could feel a patch of hives forming on her chest. She didn’t know what to think, feel, or even say for that matter. But finally, she found her words.

  “I don’t believe you!” she yelled, pounding her fist on the table.

  “Well I’m sorry to say, my dear, but it’s true. Your father discovered us a few months back. He caught me off guard, injected me with gold, and tortured me until I agreed to follow through with his plan of ending Belinda.”

  “What plan?”

  “By framing Belinda for the murders of the actress and the victims at Rodeo Drive. You’ve been right the whole time, Iris. It wasn’t her.”

  Iris jumped up and frantically paced around the kitchen. If it wasn’t Belinda, then who was it? It couldn’t have been her father or any other witch in Hollywood.

  She gazed at Helmer who beamed at her with a smug smirk. Her pulse boomed so loudly in her ears she could barely hear her own thoughts. “It was you, wasn’t it? You used Plagas spells.” Iris said, clenching her fist. “You killed those people.”

  “Yes. I’m a Plagas. And I did kill those people, but I didn’t want to.” Helmer paused. “It was pretty simple. I killed the actress and had my Protas friend plant a memory in the cleaning staff, making them believe it was Belinda. And I’ve been shadowing Belinda ever since, taking any opportune moment to use my spells and make her, and whoever was around, believe she was doing it.” He paused. “But she wasn’t.”

  Iris took a seat back at the table and slumped in the chair. She dropped her head in her hands and groaned. “But I saw her, on Rodeo Drive. She got angry, and then those people died, and—”

  “Iris. It was all part of the plan. I also made you think Arlo and Belinda were at Griffith Park, but it was all an illusion.”

  Iris perked up. Her breath caught in her throat. “Wait, that was you?”

  “I can’t take all the credit. I did have some help.”

  “Well, why would you do this?”

  “Your father needed you to step aside. You were meddling too much with Belinda’s business, and you and Arlo clearly had a connection. He needed you to hate Arlo and leave him be so I could continue with this mission. The illusion was his idea.”

  Arlo was telling the truth. He wasn’t at Griffith Park. He didn’t kiss Belinda. He wasn’t a liar. And her father? Well, that was another story entirely. The betrayal was soul shattering.

  “How could my dad do this?” Iris whispered, mostly to herself.

  “Not that I want to stick up for your father, but to his credit, dear, it hasn’t been easy for him in the Hunter world. He married an immigrant from Colombia and gave birth to the first girl to carry the Hunter gene, two things the W.H.O. leaders don’t understand.” Helmer paused. “People aren’t born monsters, Iris. Something always happens that makes them that way.”

  Iris couldn’t help but think of Belinda in that moment.

  “But this destroyed my career as a Hunter!”

  Helmer poured himself some more tea and topped it off with cream and sugar. He slowly sipped at the hot beverage and patted his mouth with a red napkin folded perfectly on the table.

  “It wasn’t meant to be on your watch, my dear, and I’m sorry that it was. To be honest, Iris, I barely got by you. But you and I both know that if it happened on one of the boys’ watch, no one would’ve said ‘boo.’”

  “So why go after Belinda in the first place?” she asked, still brimming with questions.

  Helmer let out a long sigh. “Well. A group of Hunters in New York came up with a plot to overthrow your dad. They thought he was getting cocky and power hungry and wanted to take over his city. You dad’s plan was to get Belinda to Wava, and get her killed so he could pick up her body and show the Hunters what he’s capable of.”

  “So the prophecy about a warlock being here that would give her power, is that you?”

  “Yes, and no. Wava never saw a prophecy. That was planted amongst the Nomads to spark fear in the local coven and drive Belinda away. Your father’s plan worked.”

  Iris scratched her head. Belinda was one of the most powerful witches she had ever seen. It was nearly impossible to kill her, especially now that her powers were amplified. So how could some witch doctor in Burbank do it? Something wasn’t adding up.

  “But how was my dad going to use Wava to kill Belinda?”

  Helmer grabbed his teacup and went in for another sip. “My, that tea went fast. The thing about Earl Grey is it’s just so—”

  “Can you just stop it with the freaking tea and get back to what’s going on!” Iris snapped. She quickly raked her fingers through her hair.

  “Ah, but of course,” he said co
olly. “The thing is, Wava can’t kill her. Not alone anyway. But with Arlo’s help it’s entirely possible. So we planted in Belinda’s mind that she needed Arlo’s help, and that she needed to get to Wava. That’s why she saved you guys on Halloween, and why she asked Arlo to coffee.”

  The spinning started again and for a moment Iris could barely make out Helmer’s face. “Why Arlo?”

  Iris turned her head slowly, feeling a cosmic pull toward the living room. She leaped from the table and sprinted to a photo sitting above the fireplace. It was of a picture of a young boy with dark green eyes that reminded her of freshly cut grass in the springtime. And then, Iris noticed the boy’s smile. She could recognize it anywhere.

  “You have a picture of Arlo as a kid.” She turned to face Helmer. Her hands were clammy. “Is he … ?”

  Helmer closed his eyes and with a pained whisper answered, “Yes. Arlo is my son.”

  Thirty-One

  Iris fell to her knees. The world as she knew it was crumbling into tiny little pieces. Everything had changed. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” she finally said.

  Then it dawned on her. The Witch Hunting Book of Stories. The woman, pregnant with Helmer’s son. It was Wava, the witch doctor.

  “Wait a minute,” Iris said, standing. “Wava, the other woman, in the story, she’s Arlo’s mom.”

  “I wouldn’t call her the other woman. I loved her for a time, and Belinda for a time.”

  Iris glared at Helmer. She didn’t appreciate him dodging the question. She didn’t care so much about his love life. She just wanted to know about Arlo.

  “And, yes,” Helmer added quickly. “Wava is Arlo’s mom.”

  “But I thought the story was like super old,” Iris said, bewildered. “Like, before the curse hit in the 1940s.”

  “Well, let’s just say Arlo has been eighteen for quite some time; he just doesn’t remember, thanks to my spells. I’ve also made him a part of multiple families throughout the years. He has no clue.”

  Iris walked back into the kitchen and stood in front of Helmer, staring into his hazel eyes. He looked different to her now that she knew he was Arlo’s father.