The bridge isn’t the only place that Zorn likes to frequent, according to Darius’s research. The gremlin likes a metal scrapyard that is mostly abandoned. The thought of going there, on his turf, doesn’t strike me as smart.
“That place has got to be boobytrapped,” I tell Darius. I refuse to admit that he had been right. I desperately needed that sleep, and now, as I’m scarfing down some spaghetti and meatballs. All the carbs for energy. Plus, it’s dinnertime. It won’t be long until it’s dark out, and I don’t like the idea of fighting the gremlin after the sun goes down either.
“I agree. Let’s check out the bridge first.”
I lift my eyebrows.
He ducks his head, but I saw his smirk. "I defer to your expertise."
“Stuff it, you.”
I swat his shoulder and glance over at Amad. He's still sleeping on my couch. In fact, he's barely shifted position at all. I'm so worried about him.
With a sigh, I turn back to Darius. “Yes, we’ll check out the bridge, but if he’s not there, we’re going to wait until tomorrow to check out the scrapyard. I don’t want to do that at night.”
“I agree.”
I harrumph. “We’ll both drive.”
“Why?”
“You said gremlins like to mess with technology, right? If he gets his grubby paws on our only vehicle, we’ll be stuck. Hopefully, we can prevent him from messing with both.”
“Good point.”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“I’m not. It’s just… you’re a born leader.”
“Nah, I’m just bossy.”
“You know how to give orders and be on a team.”
“From here on out, I work alone.”
“I’m just saying…”
“Say nothing.”
I make Darius follow me on the forty-minute drive out to the wooden bridge. It should’ve taken me longer, but my foot’s lead, and I found out early on that Darius is more than capable of tailing me. Unfortunately, there’s no sign of the gremlin there or in the near vicinity.
Darius pulls up alongside my car. I roll down my window.
“Let’s find the nearest rest stop,” I say. “I’ll sleep in my car.”
He smirks. "You aren't going to let me sleep in your car, too, are you?"
“Maybe. What’s in it for me?”
“What do you want?”
I tilt my head and seriously consider this. I'm not one to turn away an offer, especially an open-ended one like this.
“Can weapons be magically enhanced? I’ve always wondered that.”
“Yes.”
“Can you do that?”
“No.”
“No,” I deadpan. “Why not?”
“Not every witch can, but I do know some with that ability. What do you want? A dagger that can’t be broken?”
My eyes grow wide. "Can that extend to cars? Can I have a car that will never die?"
"All I want is a place to sleep. I mean, I could just go and get a hotel room and have a nice, warm bed and a hot shower and breakfast in the morning, and then you'll get nothing."
“Fine. A dagger that can’t be broken would be great. Could it also—”
“One thing.”
I grunt. “Fine, but I sleep in the back.”
“I’m going to recline my seat.”
“Ugh.”
I end up sleeping in the driver’s side seat reclined all the way. Darius doesn’t snore, but I’m not sure how much he sleeps. I don’t, not much, and every time I look over, he’s awake too. We don’t talk, though.
As soon as the sun rises, I sit up. “Let’s roll.”
We’re not far from the scrapyard, and we arrive there five minutes later. The gate is shut and locked, but it’s an easy climb up and over. The place is filled with all kinds of trash and garbage and, well, scrap.
“Keep an eye out for traps,” I whisper to Darius. I point to the left.
He nods and heads in that direction, whereas I turn right. I figure we can meet in the middle.
What exactly I’m looking for, I don’t know, but I try to keep an eye on everything. There’s no wires, no string, nothing to show a trap.
Just then, a ton of stuff falls to my right. Hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and I glance over, but there’s nothing there.
I start to take a step forward when I realize there’s a small pile of metal directly in front of me that hadn’t been there a minute before. My hands go to my sides. I didn’t want to walk around the place holding my gun and the angle blade, but I draw both out now.
“Zorn, are you there? Come on out.”
The pile of metal starts to shake. A tiny gadget wheels forward. I back away but not quickly enough. The gadget blows up, metal shards turning into fiery flying shrapnel. I manage to avoid all of the pieces but one that cuts into my sleeve. Thankfully, it doesn’t cut deep enough to reach my skin, and, even better, this piece isn’t on fire.
I reach to remove the piece and then hesitate. It’s coated with a green shine. Poison? Wouldn’t surprise me. Good thing I’m wearing gloves. I pull out the piece and toss it onto the ground.
“Zorn, don’t be a coward. I just want to talk,” I call.
"Talk, you say, but look at your hands."
His voice sounds from all around me. Hmm. Where is he?
“Yeah, well, your little present wasn’t the nicest,” I say, refusing to take one step.
“Why are you here, I wonder.”
“The gun and the blade don’t tell you?” I ask dryly.
“You want to hurt me, maybe even kill me. Tell me, what did I do?”
“You’ve hurt a lot of people.”
“This I do not deny.” His laugh sounds like a howl. It’s almost demonic.
I want to ask how many he curses, but I would rather him not know what we’re after, so I say nothing.
“Are you with the witch?” he asks.
I scowl. He most likely watched us enter.
“You aren’t talking anymore. Cat got your tongue?”
“You try to cut mine out, and I’ll cut out your spleen.”
“So violent. We could be friends.”
“Then come on out. Show yourself.”
“I think I’ll go and see the witch now. I don’t like witches.”
Muttering a curse, I stand there. Do I want to rush over to Darius to warn him? Yes, but I also don’t want to give Zorn an idea where the witch is. Besides, the gremlin probably knows and can get there faster than I can since I’m not precisely sure where exactly Darius is in the scrapyard.
I spy a can on top of a large pile of cars. Honestly, it’s not the smartest thing to do, but I want to warn Darius, so I shoot the can. The can jerks off the cars and lands somewhere behind other piles.
Quickly, I swap out the silver bullets for regular slugs, and I shoot the windows. Glass rains down, glistening like crystals in the sunlight.
“Do you mind? You’re making a mess of my house.”
I grin and whirl around to see the gremlin. His skin is a dark green, almost gray color. His skin is stretched tight over his body. He's thin, almost stick thin, and his face looks like overextended skin over a skull, the bone prominent. His clothes have holes in them and stains, both blood and grease. He has no nose, dark orange eyes like fire, and huge, bat-like ears. Behind him are thin wings and a tail with a huge pointed spike at the end. Zorn looks far more demonic than I would've thought possible for a non-demon paranormal creature.
“You hurt a friend,” I say.
“So you destroy my house?”
“I’m going to destroy you.”
I rush forward and go to jab him in the stomach. At the last second, he brings up a wrench to block the blow. Just as well because I would’ve pulled back. I need to know where the talisman is. If it’s not on his person, it’ll take a miracle to find it in all of this mess.
A flash of purple flies over my shoulder, zooming straight toward the gremlin. Darius has found us.
Zorn just eyes the blast and holds up the wrench. The tool somehow absorbs the blast, glowing the same shade of purple.
Well, that’s one way gremlins use magic.
Darius removes mace that I didn't even know he brought with him. He nods to me, and we race toward the gremlin. Somehow, the creature is both nimble and agile enough to fend both of us off. Bits of the arcane magic leaks with each impact, the force causing the arcane magic to travel up through our blades and zap us. Darius can handle that just fine, or so it seems, but me? It hurts terribly each time, and I hate it.
Zorn reaches inside his pocket, but I bring my blade down to stop him from removing anything. At the same time, I place the gun against his throat.
“Start talking,” I demand.
“And say what?” he asks, his eyes flashing.
“What has it gots in its pockets?” I ask in my best Gollum voice.
Darius shakes his head. “It’s more pocketses than pockets.”
"True. What has it gots in its pocketses?"
“Nothing you want,” he says with a sneer. Although the blade nicks him, he removes a device of some kind, but I’m already plowing forward, hooking a foot around his ankle as I shove him hard to the ground. He lands hard, and I fall onto my knees, pinning his arms to his sides.
“Um, Rebel?” Darius says in a tone that has me very worried.
“Yeah?”
“It’s a bomb.”
“Yeah, I don’t want that,” I mutter. “Does it have a timer?”
“No.”
Of course not.
“Rebel,” Darius says.
I eye Zorn. “Can you survive the blast?”
“You won’t,” he retorts.
“But if you won’t either…”
“It’s ticking.” Darius grabs my arm, but I jerk free and notice a chain around the gremlin’s neck. A necklace. Is the talisman attached?
Which means I can’t risk having the bomb go off.
“As much as I would love for you to die by the very gadgets you adore,” I say, modifying Frank’s words to fit.
Instead of finishing my statement, I throw my weight forward, my chest on his as I twist to see his wrist, my legs coming around to his left side. The bomb’s in his right hand, and it stays there even after I cut off his hand at the wrist.
Darius picks up the hand and the bomb and throws them away. The objects haven’t reached their peak by the time it explodes.
“Nice try, but you failed,” I tell the gremlin as I turn to face him.
He just smirks, grabs my hips with his hands, and rolls us over.
Hands.
His hand grew back.
Are you kidding me? It’s not until now I realize he didn’t cry out or wince or anything when I cut off his hand.
“Don’t even think about it, witch,” Zorn says calmly. “You will blast her as well, and her frail, fragile human form will break. She’ll die.”
I bring up my gun, but Zorn smacks it out of my hand, and it flies away. Undeterred, I slam the hilt of the angel blade against his temple. He winces from the impact, and a thin ribbon of blood trickles down the side of his face. Good. So he can feel pain and bleed.
I go to hit him again, but this time, it's a ploy. I yank on the chain and pull out the necklace. Sure enough, the talisman is attached. It's a pendant, a brown color, like clay, with a strange design. Maybe an eye? But there are so many extra lines. It's ugly, and I don't even like to look at it, but when I turn away, it feels as if the talisman is watching me.
Talk about creepy.
He blocks my half-hearted attack with the hilt and brings his claws down to my throat.
Darius rushes over, drops down, and slams his shoulder into the gremlin. Zorn puts out his leg to prevent him from being tackled off me, but he’s distracted enough that I slice his chest, bring the blade up, hoping to snag the chain.
I don’t. He backhands me, and Darius grabs the gremlin by the wings and throws him.
That was beautiful. Wow.
Freed from Zorn, I scramble to my feet and race over to collect my gun. The gremlin is flying back toward us. I shoot one of his wings, his shoulder, and miss the next shot. He hardly flinches. Damn. I forgot to switch back to silver bullets.
I do so now as Darius blasts the gremlin with his magic. Zorn waves through the air, making the attacks miss, but I fire enough shots that I make holes in his wings. Down he goes, and I rush over and shoot him again right in the spine.
He lets out a slight whine as I roll him over and stand on his shoulders to pin him in place as I break the chain.
There. Done. The talisman is in my hand. We can leave. We don’t have to kill the gremlin.
But what will Zorn do tonight? Tomorrow? Next week?
He’ll just cause more chaos and pain.
The gremlin stares up at me, his features twisted into a terribly unpleasant snarl. He’s injured, yes, but he’ll recover.
He won’t recover from this.
I take out the angel blade, grip the hilt with both hands, and squat down to shove the blade through his ribs to his heart. The gremlin’s eyes grow wide before turning lifeless a few breaths later.
I wipe the blood from the blade onto the gremlin and stood. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Darius eyes me but wisely says nothing about my overreaching and killing the demonic gremlin. “I guess this is goodbye.”
“Are you…” I should just leave it at goodbye, but I’m curious for whatever reason. “Do you have any idea what you’ll do?”
“I’ll figure something out even if I have to play it by ear for a while. Don’t worry about me.”
“Don’t you worry that I’ll worry.”
Darius grins. “Feel free to call me again if you need an arcane witch.”
“Feel free to lose my number.”
His laugh is lighthearted. “It’s been fun. Try to stay out of trouble, Rebel.”
“That’s a promise I can’t keep.”
“That’s why I said try.”
He turns and heads back to his bike. It actually has been fun, but I’m not going to tell him that. Why did he get on my nerves so much in the beginning? I’m not even sure, but it’s fun to give him a hard time.
What will he do? Go crawling back to HEX U? Take up his own crusade and kill those paranormal creatures he deems evil? I can’t imagine HEX U would appreciate that. Maybe he’ll just wait around for me to call him. Yeah, I bet that’s just what he’ll do.
Zorn’s dead, and Darius is gone, so now, it’s time for me to head on home and help Amad break his curse.
I enter my house, and I'm so glad Amad is still on my couch. He's sitting up, nodding off, looking a lot less for wear.
“Amad,” I say quietly, but he doesn’t open his eyes or lift his head. “Amad.”
Gently, I shake his arm. He blinks a few times.
“Rebel.”
“I have the talisman right here.” I fumble to yank it out of my pouch. “Hurry up and destroy it!”
Amad lifts up his hand, but it falls back onto his lap. He’s too weak to do this.
“Will it still count if I help you break it?” I ask desperately.
The genie shakes his head. I shove the talisman into his hand, and he hits it against his knee once, twice, three times. It takes two more times before it shatters.
I stare at Amad. Unfortunately, nothing seems to have changed. He looks as weak and helpless as before.
“Amad?” I can’t help the nervous tone in my voice. “Amad, you aren’t going to die on me, are you?”
His eyes close.
“Amad!”
One peeks open.
“Did it work?” I hold my clasped hands to my chest.
“I… I was wrong about what the curse entailed. He is… was… tapping into my magic. It was a link between us. He was draining me.”
“He’s dead now, and the talisman is broken. You should recover, right?”
“I… I think so. I just… I think I need some time to recover. I… I do not have the strength now to make your wish. If I do…”
“I don’t need the wish.” I shock myself by not adding right now.
“You deserve it. You earned it, but… I can’t do it right now. I… I would…”
“Don’t say it.”
He almost smiles and makes a sound that might be a laugh but is far too weak to actually sound like one. “A week. I will return in a week.”
“No! I have a healing draught.” I fumble for my pouch.
“Rebel, save it.”
“Why? Why won’t you drink it?”
“I am beyond a healing draught. Either I will recover, or I will not.”
I swallow hard and nod.
Amad shakily climbs to his feet. His steps are agonizingly slow. I move to help him, but his glare has me retreating. He heads out of the house and wanders off.
A part of me wants to follow him, but Amad is a proud genie. He clearly doesn’t want a babysitter.
I just hope he’s going to be all right. The genie is more than a way for me to be able to finish my quest. He’s a good guy. A bit of a dreamer, hoping to find and encourage people to brighten the world, but what’s wrong with having a dream? And there are far worse dreams than wanting to make the world a better place.
My brother. Mason. The vampire hunter. He wanted to make the world a better place too.
My hand rests on my chest. I miss Mason so very much. So much has gone on lately, so many near brushes with death… I want to avenge my brother’s murder before I join him in death.
More than anything, I wish I could see him one last time and not just the rocks that mark his final resting place.