Author's Preface
They waited until sundown for the funeral to commence. There were no bodies to bury, so they put two crosses in the park behind the apartment complex with Matei and Gavril's names on them. It was a short ceremony, one mostly spent in silence. Vlad had prepared a eulogy, but he was unable to read it till the end without breaking down and crying. Ian had taken the note in an attempt to finish it, but the writing was too messy. It was passed on to Dani, who by then had drunk the majority of the liquor she found in the room where her fight with the fake sorcerer took place. She couldn't read a single letter and instead improvised some speech she'd heard on TV.
"Look, for what it's worth. I know someone who can bring people from the dead, but he does charge quite the hefty price for it," said Dani before taking a sip from her bottle of gin." Unless you are a girl that is…" The rest of it, she spilled on the empty graves to honor their memory, which in her head was rather hazy.
"I don't want to see your face around here anymore," Vlad muttered, wiping his tears away. "Either of you."
He walked away shortly after, without saying a word. Ian wanted to stop him and apologize once more for all the trouble, but felt that would only anger him.
"Don't walk into the sunlight!" Dani shouted as she heard the door slam.
"What's wrong with you?" Ian asked her, though he already knew she had downed too much booze to act in any respectful manner.
"It would be easier to say what isn't," she said as she wobbled to her car. Her keys were promptly snatched from her hand before she even had the chance to fit them into the lock.
"No way I'm letting you drive like this! We’re not in the Balkans. You can’t simply hand the officer fifty bucks and expect to get away with it! Couldn’t you at least wait until we got back home to get piss out drunk?"
"T'was a long night, Ian," she mumbled. "You know my head gets filled with all kinds of messed-up thoughts when I'm sober. It ain't easy being a hunter."
"Then find a real job!"
"Easier said than (hiccup) done. Who’d want to hire an ex-gangster with a criminal record and an attitude like mine? I stick to what I'm good at. And what I'm good at is beating people to a pulp.”
"Aren't you afraid you're going to die one of these days?"
Her smile was replaced by a frown.
"No, not at all."
***
It was a long way from home. The highway was deserted, save for the occasional trucks that effortlessly passed them by. Dani was coddled on the back seat, snoring while Ian kept his eyes on the road ahead. The lights before him began to blur as he struggled to stay focused, with the crackling of the engine being the sole thing keeping him awake. He hadn't even noticed when the car had begun to slow down, and when it stopped entirely, he finally realized the night was far from over.
"Dani?" He turned around to shake her awake. "Dani, wake up."
"Jesmo li kod kuče? " Dani rubbed her eyes as she slowly rose with a yawn.
"Did you refuel before we took off?"
"I didn't have enough money to fill the whole tank, Ian. You know I’m short on cash.”
"It's because you spent it all on drinking, isn't it?"
"No…"
He shot her with a glare.
"Yes," she admitted, tilting her head back. “I know you must hate me for being such a screw-up.”
"I don't hate you, Dani." He sighed, though he himself wasn't convinced he was being honest.
"Yes, you do. It's all my fault you're stuck with someone like me."
"I wouldn't call it 'stuck'. Living with a hunter is still better than living in a dorm with a bunch of assholes or my paranoid parents." He forced a reassuring smile.
"I promise I'll find a way to turn you back—"
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Ian cut her off, without sparing a glance. "I'll rush to the nearest gas station and get us enough fuel so I can drive us home."
"It's okay, just go home. I'll walk." Dani waved her hand.
"Are you sure? Our town is more than ten miles away," he paused." A mile is longer than a kilometer—"
"Yes, I know, I know. Just go home and make sure Nastja is okay."
"You're not gonna get mad at me for leaving you here once you sober up?"
"I'm already sober. Almost."
"See you in the morning then,” he said, opening the door, prepared to leave. "There’s one thing I’ve been wondering about, though. Don’t you think it’s strange that in the age of social media, people at large still don’t know about the existence of supernatural beings?”
“Perhaps there is someone in office who takes care of keeping the whole thing a secret, who knows?” She shrugged.
“There are also these strange coincidences. For example, you find a corpse at the right time, you decide to get drunk, or we walk in just before you manage to kill that boy.”
“Ian, if you’re going on about your ridiculous theory about us living in a simulation, I swear to Sky Daddy…”
“I’m just saying. There were a lot of weird things going on lately.”
“Weird things are happening all the time. We just happened to be in the centre of them.”
Ian waved her goodbye before he took off at the speed of lightning. The huntress was surprised that he hadn't made her sign a contract, which would serve as proof that she wasn't allowed to beat him up for leaving her, despite her having supposedly said it wasn't an issue. It happened one too many times for him to walk away as calmly as he did.
She was alone again, with nothing but the vortex of bitter memories to keep her company. As she dragged her feet along the asphalt, she noticed even the stray cats on the road didn't want to look her way. She was despicable, and she knew it. Her mind was wired in a way that made her seek trouble wherever she went, and whoever happened to be an accomplice was dragged into the pit as well.
The beeping of a horn rattled through her head. She paid no attention to it. Lights flashed. She closed her eyes and kept going. It filled her stomach with a giggle to think that after barely escaping whole from a fight with one of Baba Yaga's apprentices, she would meet her bitter end under the tires of an SUV.
"Do you need a ride, miss?!" an old, haggard voice shouted.
Dani thought about turning around to see who it was. That hoarse, intimidating, yet calm tone sounded familiar, and for her displeasing revelation, it belonged exactly to who she feared.
"I don't want to fight, deda (old man)!" she yelled back at the old hunter.
“Me neither. You should have told us who you were; it might have saved us the beating. We hunters know better than to go head-to-head with the Nightmare Slayer." He smiled, as much as his broken jaw allowed him." I never thought I'd have the chance to meet you in person. My name is Rainier.”
"Well, I guess I don't need an introduction. I'll take your offer, Rainier, but bear in mind if you try anything funny—"
"I'll be sleeping with the fishes. Yes, I'm well aware of that." He nodded.
She kept her eyes low during the ride, either staring at her feet or looking at the scenery through the side window.
The vehicle was twice the size of hers. It was like going inside a truck when she opened the door of the passenger seat. The interior was new, although it had some rough spots, as indicated by the patches on the ceiling and the back seats. She noticed claw marks on the glove box, poorly hidden by a coat of paint. The smell of oakwood was pervasive, a scent so strong it made her cough a couple of times until she got used to it.
"What happened to your friend?" Dani asked, breaking the silence.
"He's in the hospital. He'll be fine."
"I'm sorry for that."
"He's sorry too. You did a number on him, one kick, and he was out. Who knew a small thing like you could cause so much damage in a single hit?”
"I was going to become a pro fighter before…"
"Before you joined the mafia?"
"Yes," she answered with a bitter smile, her eyes trailing back to the view of the mountaintop.
"Your past is of little relevance to me," the old hunter reassured her. "What interests me is your relationship with that vampire. I do not doubt that you know we hunters are prohibited from any form of acquaintanceship with such creatures."
"There is no good monster, but a dead one," Dani quoted. "Isn't that what you guys used to say? Don’t worry, I no longer need him. The case is closed, and he wasn't the one behind it all."
"Then who?"
She took a moment to think. The hunters had little information about the sorcerers, nor did they ever make a distinction between them and the witches, nor did Dani before she met the necromancer, who spilled the beans in front of her once she found the right way to threaten him.
Witches made contracts with demons and received their powers upon giving birth to their kin. Sorcerers, on the other hand, were born with their magic, due to their bloodline and relation to a deity called Rhea. Their brains had a tumor in them that produced mana, and they crafted their spells using the language of the old gods.
What Dani referred to as 'fake sorcerers' was, in a way, a mix of both. They could use both spells and curses, and unlike regular magicians, they could do their magic with ease and without worrying about running out of mana.
"Do you know the old Slavic tale of Baba Yaga?" Dani asked, looking at the old hunter.
"I've heard of it, yes," Rainier said, his eyes still glued to the road.
"What if I tell you she was real?" She anticipated a reaction, but there was none.
"I wouldn't say it's impossible. We've dealt with worse things than a witch."
“No, you haven't," Dani continued in a cold, stern tone. "Believe me, there is nothing the hunters have ever faced before. Earlier, I fought one of her apprentices. The kid turned the entire apartment complex into a death trap. He was the one behind all the missing people in town."
The old hunter spared her a glance before turning his eyes back on the road.
"And where is he now?"
"He's…" She opened her mouth before rethinking. "He's dead. You don't need to worry about him anymore.”
“I expected no less from someone like you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
There was a deer up ahead, frozen, staring into the headlights. Rainier slammed his foot against the brake, making them swing forward with the air escaping their lungs.
“I needed to talk to you, Dani,” the old hunter said at last, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline. “We hunters could definitely benefit from a person with your talents, and I think that benefit could be mutual.”
“Where are you getting at, deda?”
“I’m asking you to join us. We know about the kind of reputation you have. You're taking the most dangerous requests, not because you need to prove something, but because you have no other choice. Work for us and you’ll have no more worries about putting food on the table. I’ll give you time to consider my offer, then—”
“You can shove it where the sun doesn’t shine,” the huntress turned him down quickly.
“Why am I not surprised?” Rainier rested his forehead against the wheel. “So, you prefer to spend the rest of your days working for scraps?”
“I’ve said it before. I’m done working for assholes.” She crossed her hands, firm in her decision.
“Our organization isn’t some lowly gang. We fight with honor,” he grunted.
“Don’t talk to me about honor,” she hissed.
“I take it that you reject my offer.” She didn’t respond; instead, she simply looked away. “Then I’d have to ask you to return your runic sword. It is not yours.”
“It ain’t yours either!”
“It belongs to a woman named Aria, and I think you know that. That weapon is bloodbound to her, meaning you cannot use it to its full extent.”
“If you want my sword,” she leaned in closer, eyes spelling malice, “you’ll have to take it from me. Are you sure you want to do this?”