Thirty-Seven

Iris grabbed her head in agony as she woke up in The Armada. Her body felt like it was run over by a train, or better yet, like she had jumped out of an airplane and crashed against the side of a building. Basically, she felt like crap.

Her vision blurred and she could barely make out the face in the driver’s seat. She squinted again and realized it was her brother. She’d never been so happy to see him.

“Knox.” Iris’s face brightened. “You’re here.” Her eyes paced back and forth. “How?”

“Of course I’m here.” Knox gently grabbed her hand. “Arlo called me. I couldn’t leave you here injured and alone.” He grinned with compassion. “How you feeling, kiddo?”

Iris forced a smile. “I’m fine.” The moment she said the words, a shooting pain ripped through her body. She flinched.

“You sure don’t look fine,” Knox said, placing the back of his hand on her sweaty forehead. “No fever, that’s good.”

“I mean, I’ve obviously been better,” she joked through gritted teeth. “What happened?”

“I don’t really know.” Knox shrugged his shoulders. “Arlo called and said you were injured and I needed to come here, and he put you in a room in the hotel to rest. When I got here, Arlo was gone and so was Belinda.”

Arlo’s fate was now in the hands of a witch. Knox may not have known the whole story, but Iris did, and the aftermath sent a shooting pain all the way down to her bones.

“Listen, I don’t know what you did today,” Knox started. “But I wanted to tell you, you really are one of the best Hunters I know. Sure, you’re a little too hotheaded at times, and don’t always think before you act—”

“Okay, I’m missing the compliment part.” Iris smirked.

“The truth is, you have some serious skills,” he said with assurance. “And honestly, Iris, I know I’m hard on you, but I feel lucky and honored to have you fighting by my side.” Knox let out a heavy sigh.

Iris held back tears and fought hard against the lump in her throat. Hearing those words from her brother, the Hunter she respected most in this world, meant more to her than she could express. She knew that when Knox said something, he meant it.

Iris smiled, clearing her throat. She was trying her best not to make things awkward. “Thanks.” She inhaled deeply, letting out a long breath. “Knox, there’s something you need to know.”

Iris sighed and told her brother everything. And what seemed like the worst of all, she told him how she was kicked off the team.

“That’s freaking crap!” Knox yelled, pounding his fists against the wheel. “I won’t let this happen.”

“Well, it did,” Iris huffed with frustration. “And you know there’s nothing you can do. It’s in the hands of the board now.”

Knox paused for a moment and Iris could hear him tapping his foot against the floor. He looked deep in thought. “Well, if you’re off the team, I’m off the team—”

“Knox—”

“Let’s go rogue!” His face lit up. “With you and me and your new witch and warlock friends we can fix this. We don’t need the freaking W.H.O.”

Iris chuckled. “Well, that’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear you say.”

“And I’ll get Dex to join us too,” Knox said excitedly.

“Knox,” Iris interrupted. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” he assured. “I’m not hunting without you, Iris. It wouldn’t be the same.”

Iris smiled. She was truly touched by her brother’s support. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Knox reached over and squeezed her shoulder. For a brief moment, all seemed right in the world. She paused, gazing out the window at what seemed to be an abnormally large full moon casting an eerie glow on Los Angeles. “So, what do we do next?” she asked.

“We fight. We protect. We do what Hunters do best.” He nodded his head like a solider getting ready for war. “Look, you wait here. I’m going to go make a few phone calls. If we’re going rogue, we need to get some stuff in order.”

With Knox gone, Iris tried to close her eyes. She missed Arlo. She missed Silos. Strangely, she sort of missed her crazy new witch friend, Levana. Everything seemed so backward, but also, kind of how it should be.

But this fight was nowhere near being over. She needed to find Arlo, confront her father and the W.H.O., and keep Belinda’s plague as far away from the human race as possible. She had a long road ahead of her.

“Ow!” Iris screamed, grabbing her temples. Suddenly, memories from her childhood poured into her brain like a computer flooding with downloading memory. She saw her mother waving her hand in front of a group of Hunters. She saw her dad, telling her mother to do it again. “Now plant a new memory,” her father said. “The memory we talked about.”

No, Iris thought, it can’t be. She opened her eyes and gasped. Without warning, fire leaped from her right hand, dancing wildly between her fingers. The fire didn’t burn her. It was a part of her. It was molded to her soul.

Iris glared at her image in The Armada’s side mirror. She panted, gasping for breath as she stared at the flames. How is this happening? She violently jumped as a streak emerged over the crown of her reflection, painting the front of her hair red.

“What the hell?” Iris said, grabbing at the strand with her free hand. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She remembered Silos’s words.

When you wake up you will be reborn. What your father has kept hidden will be awakened. You will come alive.

“Oh. My. God,” she whispered. “I’m … I’m a—”

There are two types of people in Hollywood: the hunted and the hunters.

Iris Maria Bently was born to be a Hunter.

But she was also born a witch.