For the entire trek out to Harrisburg, I can't stop thinking. Morena… I don't trust her. Not one bit. No matter how much she claims it is, this is not going to be an easy kill. This guy clearly did something to her… or maybe she did something to him, and she wants to make certain he doesn't retaliate and kill her first.
And back to my parents, the car accident, Mason’s and Gracie’s murders… I do my best not to think about them. It hurts too much to. The grief, the guilt, the sorrow… My brother was invaluable after Mom and Dad passed, but I had no one once he and his wife were taken from me.
The only way I could function was to continue to go to the gym and the dojo and the shooting range. I needed some semblance of normalcy in my life, and I could lose myself in the repetition of lifting heavy things and putting them down and kicking and punching and shooting.
It was one of the times when I fired all of my bullets faster than I should’ve that I realized what I was doing.
What Mason had me doing all along.
Training.
There’s no doubt in my mind that he had been about to tell me about vampires. He wanted me to be a vampire hunter like he was.
That’s when I embarked on my quest, but I knew they hadn’t been killed by vampires. I had to learn what other creatures were out there.
Ironically enough, my first client had been a vampire of all creatures.
I’m going through my brother’s things. Not snooping. He’s dead, remember? I’m finding so many weapons hidden away, including stakes. In fact, I’ve just come across the cache of stakes when a vampire shows up. He tries to wrestle the stake from me while also snapping his jaws, trying to get close enough to bite me, but I kick him away and jump to my feet, all thanks to karate and squats and lunges.
He launches himself at me so swiftly that he almost runs right into the stake. The vampire halts, hands up.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you,” I say.
He says nothing.
“Why are you here?”
The vampire sniffs. “Someone who lived here killed my brother.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, but my brother and his wife are dead, and I didn’t do it.”
“I know you didn’t,” he snaps.
“So, no revenge for you. Sorry.” I apply pressure on the stake against his throat.
“Don’t kill me! I… I’ll pay you.”
“Pay me?”
“You know. Greenbacks. Bills. Dollars.”
I nod. He slowly reaches into his pocket and removes a wallet. The vampire holds it out, but I shake my head.
“Remove the money.”
He does and hands me over one hundred dollars.
“Thank you.”
I pocket the money and slowly lower the stake while also prepared to bring it back up and stab him. Does it have to be through the heart? Because the ribs are kind of in the way. Then again, he sure didn’t like that I held one to his throat.
The vampire bares his fangs and flies at me. My arm comes up, and I just catch his arm. He hisses.
“I’m not stupid. You thought that I was an ignorant, greedy human, that I would lower my guard, and that I would be an easy kill so you could take your money back. Nope. Sorry. Not the case.”
His nostrils flare. His arm is bleeding, and I can’t help being pleased.
“How about this?” I ask. “You want something done, and I’ll do it. You then let me keep this money for real, and we’ll part our separate ways. I won’t go after you, and you won’t kill me.”
“What can you do for me?” he scoffs.
"Do vampires eat? Anything you want me to get you? Is someone annoying you? A friend, maybe? I could play a prank on them. It doesn't have to be anything big."
“For one hundred dollars—”
“You’re a vampire. You have money, and if not, then you can just compel a bank teller to give you a ton, right?”
"I suppose… there is something you could do for me. A joke. I used to date a dentist right after I became a vampire. She's one too, but it wasn't meant to be. I want you to go to her work and pretend you're a vampire, but you woke up one day, and your fangs were filed down. The more you embarrass her, the better. You do a good job, and I might pay you more."
“If I do a good job, you tell your friends I’m willing to do jobs for them.”
His delight at the idea of pranking his ex fades away. “Some of my friends… the jobs they’ll want will get your hands dirty.”
I nod toward his arm, which has already healed. “I’m willing.”
So I do it. I go to her office, and I make a scene, and it’s absolutely hilarious. The most fun of all of the jobs I’ve taken on. Utterly ridiculous, but it’s how I opened the door to the supernatural world because those friends that vampire—Darick—introduced me to? Not one of them had been vampires. An elf, a dwarf, a goblin, and an orc. None of their jobs were so entertaining, and my hands started to get dirty.
And that’s how I became a supernatural bounty hunter.
Darick actually gave me a tip. In his eyes, I did such a good job, and it had been hilarious. When Irina—the dentist—realized it was all a joke, she couldn't stop laughing and had to pull me aside away from her patients and staff. Darick entered the room, and they began to yell at each other and then talk and finally kiss.
That’s when I left. Darick hunted me down a few weeks later to pay me. Last I heard, Darick and Irina are on a break again, but they’ve been on and off again the entire time.
I haven’t seen either of them in some time. I wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but if there are vampires I don’t mind, they’re the ones.
Finally, I arrive at the address Morena gave me. I keep on driving and actually swing back around the block a few times to scope out the place. It’s a small house. The neighbors are far enough away that they might not hear any screams. Good.
I park up the block and wait until it’s dark. Then, I leave my car and pull out my phone. It’s dead. Good.
Head down, trying to look depressed, I head to Dillon’s house. Most of the other houses are dark, but his has a light on. Even better.
I knock on the door and bite my lip, doing my best to look nervous and worried.
The door opens, and there he is. Man. That photo doesn’t do him justice. He really is hot. Soon, he’ll be hot and dead.
“Hello?” he asks.
Even his voice is nice and deep.
“Hi, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I have to ask, but… can I borrow your phone? I’m not from around here, and my car broke down, and my phone’s dead.” I hold up the phone as proof. “Your house was the first one I saw with lights on. I don’t mean to bother you. I just… I need help.”
“It’s all right. Everyone has a string of bad luck now and then. Come in.”
“Thank you, but, ah…”
He's already opening his door open wide and gesturing for me to come inside. I hoped to be able to quickly stab him in the gut right by the door.
“If I could just use your cell…” I smile sheepishly. “I’m sure you’re a very nice guy and all, but, ah, the idea of coming into a strange guy’s place…”
He just opens the door a little wider, the creep.
“If you try anything, I’m a black belt,” I warn him.
Dillon laughs. "Do I look that threatening?"
“You look strong. Strong enough to overpower me.”
“I’m sorry you have to think that way. You can stay here. I’ll go grab my cell. It’s on the—”
I kick my leg backward to shut the door and throw one of my daggers at him. He doesn't even turn around. The witch just holds a hand up behind him and blasts my dagger.
Whelp, there goes my take him by surprise plan.
The blast dies down before it can hit anything else, but my dagger is gone.
“What did you do to it?” I ask, gaping at him.
“Why are you trying to kill me?” he retorts.
I scowl and grab one of my guns. Dillon whirls around and does a spin crescent kick, but I duck and aim.
He grabs the top of my gun. “You aren’t going to kill me.”
“Yes, I will,” I say through gritted teeth.
I dash forward with enough force to propel him to walk backward a few steps. He connects his backside with a small table, and mail falls onto the floor.
A ball of purple light forms in his hand, but I’m staring at the mail.
At the name the mail is addressed to.
A name I never heard of before.
“Wait. Your name isn’t Dillon?”
“You’re not going to trick me,” he says.
He unleashes the blast, but I grab his mail, duck, and roll to safety, quickly coming to my feet and standing.
I wave the envelopes. “You aren’t Dillon? I’m being serious. I’m not fighting anymore. Look.” I make a show of putting my gun away.
"What? No, my name isn't Dillon. Why do you think it was?" He jerks back as if burned. "Do you mean that you fought the wrong witch? Are you really that incompe—"
“Do not insult me,” I snap. I grab the photo from my pouch so violently the photo nearly tears. “That’s your face.”
“Yes, it is. Who wants me… Someone wants me dead,” he says slowly.
"Very much so." I eye him and want to ask if he knows who I am, but I don't bother. Either he does, or he doesn't, but it doesn't much matter.
Morena lied to me. Why? What did she hope to gain by lying? Why is nothing ever simple anymore?
“But why go through the trouble of hiring you and then not giving you my name?” Not Dillon shakes his head, eyeing me as if this is all my fault.
I hold up my hands. “Hey, it’s not as if I asked for this. I just do what I’m paid to, and the witch made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“Witch Godfather,” he mumbles.
“Godmother,” I correct.
He rolls his eyes. “What is the witch playing at?”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, “but I intend to find out.”