Vinca, of course, gave me enough dust to return home, but Mirella insists that I spend the night. The couch is a pullout bed, but I don’t sleep much at all. I’m too frustrated and upset. There’s basically no way for me to learn who did it. If I can’t… my quest will go unfinished, my revenge never fulfilled… And without either driving me, I feel lost. Who am I if I’m not Rebel? Does Rebel only exist for revenge?
Mirella makes me chocolate chip pancakes, and we talk about anything and everything but what we tried and failed to accomplish last night. It’s frightening how similar we are and yet so dissimilar too. Mirella’s far too modest at first to admit it, but she can control nine of the ten types of magic, all but spells. She’s mastered most of them and is still working on the others. As far as witches go, she’s as powerful as they come. Me? I’m just a human. I shouldn’t have a toe in their world, but I’ve jumped in with both feet, tumbling headfirst.
“I let my revenge consume me for a time,” Mirella says softly. “If you ever want to talk, call me. I might be busy, but I will get back to you as soon as I can. And I’ll work on discovering what that potion is. A cyclops’ eye, a dragon’s stomach… Those are potent ingredients. The potion has to be something powerful.”
“And potentially dangerous.”
“More than likely.”
“Thank you for everything, Mirella.”
“It’s been a pleasure, Rebel. You’ll have to come back sometime and meet Kayden.”
“I would love that.”
We hug, and I use the dust and leave. I arrive in my bedroom, and a crash in my living room has my heart racing. My daggers are out as I burst from my room.
Amad, in his teal-colored genie form, backs away from my bookcase. An entire room is on the floor.
“What are you doing?” I demand as I sheath only one of my daggers.
“I’m here to hire you again.”
“I’m not interested.”
“I will pay you.”
“I don’t…” I eye him, and an idea comes to me—a terrible, wonderful idea. “I don’t want money.”
“I will pay in dollars.”
“No.”
“You name the price. I will pay it.”
“I don’t want to be paid in money. I want a wish. One wish.”
He grinds his razor-sharp teeth. “Genies do not grant wishes.”
I know he claimed that before, but I’m hoping I’m right—that it’s just a claim of his and not a fact. Genies won’t want to be used and controlled and abused for their wishes. I get that. Better to lie and say it’s a myth than to go down that slippery slope.
But I need a wish so very badly. It might be my only chance at learning who or what killed my brother and his wife.
“Yes, you do,” I say firmly.
“When djinn dream, people die.”
I swallow hard. “What?”
“When djinn dream, people die.”
“What does that have to do with wishes?”
Amad stares me down for so long that I think he won’t answer me. Finally, he professes, “Wishes claim the lives of the wisher.”
I blink several times. “If I wish for another wish to not kill me or anyone else…”
“That would work, but you would need two wishes.”
“So grant me two wishes for whatever you want me to do.”
He shakes his head. “I cannot.”
“Why not?” I demand angrily.
“I am bound by my magic, and as such, there are rules to be followed, rules as unbreakable as gravity.”
“But you…” I gesture to his smoky lower half.”
“Gravity has a hold on me even in this form.”
“Fine,” I grumble. “So think of something else for me to do after this first task so I can have two wishes.”
“Very well, but to be granted your first wish, all you have to do is something rather simple.”
His hesitation lasts so long I prompt, “And it is…”
He holds out his arm. In his palm is the fang I gave him from the vampire. Confused, I accept it.
“You must kill the rest of the Blood Moon pack.”
“What? No. No way. Not happening.”
“This is not a test,” Amad says.
“I don’t care. Test or not—”
“They moved away—”
“I heard that, and I’m glad. I don’t want to have to deal with them anymore. I don’t know if you know this, but I had to capture their alpha, and now he’s dead… They’re going to want to kill me if I go near them.”
“So save yourself from a lifetime of fear and worrying and looking over your shoulder.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Do you even know where they are?” Amad demands.
“No,” I admit.
“Each city you go to, they could be there. You may have changed your scent, but your attire, your hair, your face… They will recognize you. And that wish…”
“I can’t handle all of them.”
“You do not have to do this alone.”
I shake my head, but the word alone strikes me. If I could find a way to kill the werewolves one at a time… It just might be feasible after all.
“Why do you want them dead?” I ask. “I assume there’s a reason.”
“There is a very good reason behind it, and I don’t even mind that you’re asking.”
I roll my eyes. Yes, in the early days, I made a big deal of my discretion and my lack of questions, but now that it’s clear my name has spread all the way to California, I think my reputation in results should be enough that I can ask a question here or there.
“They’ve moved to York. Under their new alpha, they’re going around killing the homeless. The pack will continue to rage out of control if left unchecked.”
That is terrible. My heart goes out to those poor souls. They’re the weakest society has to offer, and that they’re specifically targeting people who won’t be missed right away is even more despicable.
“Why are they doing that?” I ask.
“That I cannot say for certain.”
“But here, they killed every few months. You’re making it sound like it’s daily.”
“Or even more than one a day,” he says sadly.
Amarok. That werewolf vampire zombie creature. Somehow or another, they have to be channeling him. Before, the killing was just on and off for years, but to make this leap…
Maybe Wyatt had been doing a better job of keeping his pack in check than I thought.
“Why move away? Why kill so many? What’s changed? I mean, I know they have a new alpha, but…” I shake my head.
“You’re frightened.”
I glower at the genie. “I am. I’m not stupid. Werewolves don’t usually kill like this. They don’t normally attack humans. They’re better than that. They aren’t inherently evil.”
“And they have a reason to hate you. I understand. I just want you to do what is best for the world.”
“Because I’m the world’s keeper,” I grumble. “Or you. Why do you care?”
“I can only do so much,” he says. “As a genie, I am bound by the laws of my magic. I cannot always do whatever I wish with it, ironically enough.”
“If you could, you would.”
“Yes. I do not relish the idea of sending a human against a pack of bloodthirsty werewolves, but genies do not mix well with others. Too many of them are as greedy as humans. They all wish to use me. You, at least, are willing to give and take, and I commend you for that, although I do wish you would be a bit more judicial with your choices when accepting or rejecting your jobs. You have captured the alpha, and you are a capable fighter. I do believe you can do this and find a way to survive.”
I swallow hard. “If what you say about them is true…”
“Go to York. See for yourself, and then you decide whether or not to accept the job.”
Amad nods to me and, in a blink, disappears.
It’s a long, boring three-and-a-half-hour trek to York, but I figure it’s better to drive than to ask Vinca for more travel dust. One, I don’t want to abuse our friendship, and two, I have an entire city to scope out. Having a car will make that a lot easier to handle versus traversing everywhere on foot. Yes, I can spend the half a million I’ve saved up since I don’t need that greedy witch Myrtle Von Stein’s help anymore, but I’ve been frugal for so long that it’s seeped into my bones.
There are plenty of vineyards, and some of the buildings look really old, giving the town a quaint little feel. It’s so very wrong for them to settle in a place like this. I bet a lot of people know each other’s names here, the kind of place where there are no secrets.
All the more reason for me to go after the werewolves then. They might be too big of a risk for exposing the world to the existence of paranormal creatures.
Theoretically, they should be on HEX U’s radar then, and if that’s the case, hunters or slayers, or executioners might be on their way.
But if they are doing what Amad says they’re doing, then I want to be the one to take them down. I want that wish. I just hope that Amad picks something a little less likely to kill me for the second one.
I book myself a hotel room, freshen up, eat, and go to bed. It’s not nighttime, but the darkened hours will be the ones for me to search. At least, I assume they’re killing the homeless as werewolves and not as their human selves.
It takes me two nights before I find something worthwhile. There’s a road that’s blocked off, leading to what looks like an abandoned building. It kind of looks like a part of a castle. It’s there that I hear a lot of animalistic sounds, like grunts and growls.
I roll down my window and wince at the sound of frantic feet hitting the pavement. The rhythmic sound is probably nothing at all like the frenzied, urgent pounding of the runner's heart. There's a cry, a yelp, another cry, and then the sound of animals eating comes to me.
I close my eyes, and tears fall. Once again, I’m too slow, and my target—targets in this case—has killed again.
But no more. I’ll do it. I’ll take on the job.
Even if it kills me.