Sixteen

Arlo, Iris, and Knox approached their first trick or treat spot in the Hollywood Hills. Darkness quickly enveloped as the gray, cottony clouds drifted above, concealing the bluish-white glow of the full moon. The wind whipped up, carrying a mild chill as it devilishly licked at Iris’s skin. The smell of caramel corn, apple cider, and citrus wafted through the air—a combination of aromas that reminded Iris it was fall—even though the California weather tricked her into thinking otherwise.

They clambered up a tall tree on the edge of a small cul-de-sac, giving them a bird’s-eye view of the entire neighborhood. Iris patted the gold knife strapped to her thigh, ensuring it was secure and ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice.

“Can we say witch bait?” she said, pointing toward a group of college-aged girls dressed as sexy pirates with lingerie and fishnets. “Oh man, the witches are going to be all over this place.”

“Looks like they may be here already.” Knox motioned his head toward a crowd of women at the other end of the street. They were tall, beautiful, curvy and youthful … . and they glowed white-hot through their sunglasses.

“Nomads. They don’t belong to any coven in particular,” Knox explained to Arlo. “They’re most likely here just to get some good sacrifices in.”

Iris stared in silence. She hated the Nomads. They were messy, unpredictable, and never played by any rules. “They also constantly forget to use their Idas spell, so people tend to remember them unless we step in,” Iris added. “Basically, they’re a hot mess.”

“If we don’t stop them, that group of witches is going to murder a lot of people tonight,” Knox said, with a deadly serious conviction. “So, Iris, here is my plan. I want you to lure them back here, past this tree and to that fence, so Arlo can use his bow and take them out, one at a time.”

“And how am I supposed to do this, your majesty,” said Iris, with the best curtsy she could muster while perched on a tree branch.

“Well, they like shallow, right? Be a shallow girl.” Knox shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

Her eyes dimmed. “Witches can tell if we’re not really shallow,” she snapped, “or did you forget that minor detail?”

“Nice try,” Knox spewed. “Nomads don’t even factor in the shallow stuff. These aren’t Belinda’s witches we’re dealing with. They’re junkie killers who will go after anyone, including children. They’re looking for a fix.” Knox paused as if remembering something. “Besides, you seemed pretty excited when Mom brought you a Hermès bag from Paris last summer.”

“Hey, that was a Birkin bag!” Iris shot back. “You’d have to be dead to not get excited about getting one of those.” She gave him a dismissal wave.

“I was just glad to see you showing interest in something other than weapons for once.” Knox burst into laughter.

Iris slugged her brother in the shoulder, inciting more hysterical laughter. “You’re such a dick,” she huffed, half-serious.

She shifted her focus on the witches in the distance. Though Iris didn’t want to admit it, she felt uneasy about tonight. She didn’t want any more innocent people to be killed, especially on her watch. She couldn’t bear it. And to top it off, having Arlo in the field for the first time added to her stress. She felt like she needed to keep an eye on him. He was her Padawan after all.

“Hey, I hate to chime in to the party here, but I’ve been listening to you guys on the com this entire time,” Dex said in the earpiece, interrupting her thoughts.

They all looked up. Dex was circling the neighborhood in their stealth helicopter, keeping an eye on things from the sky.

“Dude, how are things looking from your end?” Knox asked, pressing his finger to his ear.

“Not that good. Lots of Nomads, guys.” He sighed. “It’s going to be a long night.”

Iris glanced at Knox, then peered at Arlo who was looking increasingly more nervous.

“Well,” Dex continued, “what if Iris pretends to be talking on a cell phone. She can walk by the witches and throw out designer names, talk about celebrities, anything that will make her sound right. And since these witches are Nomads, they won’t know. Then Iris can lead them back to you guys. I think it’ll work,” he said confidently.

“That’s actually not half-bad,” Iris mused, bolts of adrenaline coursing through her body.

“I think it’s perfect,” added Knox. “Look, we all have our earpieces in. If I feel like it’s getting dangerous, I’ll tell you to come back. You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” Iris said softly. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Knox gave her a high five. “Well done, Dex,” he said over the com.

“That’s what I’m here for.” The com went silent and Iris’s nerves started catching up to her. She felt jittery, but in a good way. Like she’d had an entire pot of coffee.

“Look, I’m going to do one walk-through before sending you out there, okay?” Knox said, nodding his head. “Arlo, you stay here with Iris, I’ll be right back.”

Knox hopped out of the tree, landing on the grass with the grace of a jaguar, and disappeared into the darkness.

“Looks like tonight I’m the bait, huh?” Iris said, letting out a light chuckle. “Too bad I’m not dressed like a sexy nurse, I’d fit right in.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Arlo asked. His voice seemed surprisingly shaky.

“Well, yeah. It has to be done, doesn’t it?” she said with confidence.

“Sure. But who would they use as bait if they didn’t have a girl on the team? It just doesn’t seem fair.”

Iris nearly jumped. It wasn’t every day someone recognized the inequality in the Hunter world.

“Look.” Her face turned solemn. “My brother and cousin would never truly put me in danger.”

“Are you sure about that?” He set his chin.

“Arlo!” she spat.

“I’m sorry. It just seems sort of … unsafe.”

“Well, welcome to witch hunting. It’s very unsafe.”

“Just … promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise.” Iris nodded. She was touched by his concern.

“And … well … I want you to have something. I know it’s totally lame.” Arlo reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, gold chain with the letter A on the end of it. “My mom gave this to me when I was young. It was her father’s, who was also Arlo. He was Sicilian and he loved this. Anyway, I’ve never been into jewelry so I just keep it in my pocket, kind of for good luck. And, I, uh, I want you to have it.”

Iris’s mouth went suddenly stale and her stomach fluttered. She couldn’t for the life of her understand why Arlo was being so sweet, especially with how distant she’d been lately.

“Arlo, I can’t take that,” she said gently. “It belonged to your grandfather—”

“I want you to have it,” he assured. His words were sweet as honey. “My mom thinks I’m at some exclusive Hollywood music school where phone calls aren’t allowed, so it’s not like I can call and ask her or anything, but I know she would approve.”

Arlo smiled through his dark green eyes as he dangled the necklace in front of Iris’s face. The gold glistened in the moonlight. It was obviously old but looked like it had been taken care of.

“Are you sure?” Her voice dripped with guilt.

“One hundred percent,” he said sternly. “Plus, who knows? Maybe the extra gold will keep the witches away?”

Iris couldn’t hide her grin any longer. Arlo unclasped the chain and draped it around Iris’s neck. The hair on her body stood on end and she shivered as another flurry of goose bumps rippled across her skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly, squeezing his hand.

“You’re welcome.”