Dying of the Light: Hunters for Hire, #6

By Jonathan Yanez

The demigoddess demon Huldra has gone too far.
But she had no idea that he's willing to take this all the way.

Jonny has every intention of making her rue the day she crossed him. No matter what she throws at him – corrupt S.O.A.P. agents, gargoyles, maniacal scientists, or shadow magic – he's going to make her pay for what she took from them.

But first, he must journey to a dark land of nightmares to bring Frankie back from the brink of madness. Their bond will be tested even as Jonny takes on Frankenstein himself.

When something powerful enough to fetter the unflappable godmother Teri, he'll go to unfathomable lengths to win over a powerful wizard to their cause.

The world needs defenders of the light.

Spurred on by Gabriel's words, Jonny and the Hunters for Hire crew are going to train hunters by the dozens. Soon, their force will reach the ends of the earth. Much to the chagrin of those hiding in the shadows.

A line has been drawn in the sand: and their response? Send me.

 

Part mythology, part gothic horror, one click to start reading an adventurous, feel-good urban fantasy with the perfect combination to make you laugh, cry, cheer, and be surprised!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jonathan Yanez
• Release date: Aug 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223315827

Book preview

ONE

I lifted the pink note off my desk. The writing was cursive and perfect: Jonny, it looks like you’re working late again. Here’s the translator I made for Odin. I hope it fits. He’ll probably need to wear it for a while for it to learn what he’s saying. I’ll check back in the morning, Casey.

The big hellhound came up to my hand, sniffing the paper as if he knew it was for him. I looked over at my desk and saw the thick brown leather collar. It seemed pretty ordinary to me as far as dog collars went. There was a gun-metal gray clasp in the middle with the Hunters for Hire emblem, a distressed, pissed-off wolf head.

I looked around my office room at the Vault. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration, but I had moved in a little since we had first claimed the building as our headquarters. There were actually a few bookcases now, a desk and chair. Nothing over the top but usable everyday things I would need.

My eyes landed on a picture of Evan and me. The photo was taken during a commercial we had both been cast for. Well, Evan had been cast for it really. He got me the job once he had been hired on. In the commercial, he was the agent of a heavyweight boxer. The story was he bought his fighter new gloves and then the fighter was immediately ten times better. A montage showed the boxer lighting his opponents up with knockouts. I was one of those knockouts.

But hey, it paid, and at the time, I was ecstatic to be knocked out boxer number three on the credits for my IMDB account.

Odin whined again, nudging at my hand.

Snapping back from my memory, I looked down at the black wolf dog. I was as much his as he was mine. I had never tried to put a collar or leash on him.

You good with this? I asked, kneeling down to look the big guy in the eyes. I’m not trying to get you angry here.

Odin licked my hand and then tried maneuvering his snout through the offered collar himself. I helped him shrug on the collar and made sure he had plenty of room to breathe. I looked around the collar to see if there was an on switch, but maybe it was just supposed to work once placed on the hellhound’s neck.

I guess that’s it, I said, standing up to admire Odin. You make for one handsome hellhound, if I do say so myself.

Odin yipped a regular dog yip. The translator, if it was working at all, didn’t offer a response.

All right, come on. Let’s go home and get something to eat, I said, leaving my office and switching the lights off.

Normal business hours for the main Hunters for Hire office was eight to five. It was seven now, and as such, everyone was gone. My days had been ending later and later as I tracked down any hint or sign I could gather of Huldra. But she was on the lam, vanished like a ghost in the wind, if that was even a saying.

She had come, set up her business in Los Angeles, and then disappeared. While Shannon took the lead in keeping Hunters for Hire running, I was working on getting our school for gifted hunters up and running. With any free time I had, I tracked Huldra. It was more like a hobby at this point. Everyone needs a hobby, right?

Odin and I locked the glass office doors behind us and hopped into my 1966 Mustang coupe. Thanks to a few new friends, the vehicle had been completely restored both inside and out. It drove like a mean dream, practically shining in the moonlight.

We made our way through the relentless city traffic back to our home, me behind the steering wheel with a hundred things on my mind and Odin with his head out the window, ears flapping in the breeze.

Haven Apartments wasn’t much to look at, but it was home. Four stories shaped in a U pattern, with straight lines and a fenced-off pool in the middle that no one wanted to swim in. It was home, strategically placed down the street from our local liquor store and just minutes away from Matty Too Fatty Burgers.

But this time, as I pulled around our apartment to park in the back, something was different. Odin’s ears perked up while we were still a block away. The carefree expression on his canine face vanished in an instant as he sensed the nefarious shift the fates had in store for us.

Red and blue police lights caught my attention. There had to be a half dozen police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances parked on the street and in our already cramped rear parking lot.

Firemen leaned against their bright red trucks talking with officers in uniform. Whatever was going on, it didn’t seem as if there was any active danger. I parked across the street and Odin and I walked over to investigate.

My gut reaction was to worry about those people I knew in Haven: Mrs. Grundy, Shannon, Mr. Hyde, Rami. It was then it hit me. I was so preoccupied in my own life that I had failed to be a good neighbor. I saw faces as I tried to think of who else I knew in the apartments, but names were coming in short supply.

I tried to be friendly with a smile and a hello. However, that was about as far as I had taken getting to know some of the others around me.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, sir; you can’t just walk in right now, an officer stated, eyeing Odin. Why isn’t your dog on a leash?

Right, about that, I began, feeling heat rush to my face. Have I mentioned that I’m a horrible liar? He has an anxiety condition—with leashes. Horrible, horrible anxiety that makes him break out in a contagious rash and fleas. Oh my, I could tell you some horror stories about the fleas.

Fleas? the officer asked, taking a measured step back.

We live here, I explained, taking out my driver’s license so the officer could verify my address. I can take him up right now and get his leash. We just came back from the—the dog dermatologist, you see.

Odin lifted a brow and looked at me as if to say, You’re kidding me, right?

What happened here? I asked the officer.

The officer handed me back my driver’s license with a shrug. There’s been an incident with one of the apartment renters. You can go in since you live here, but make sure you get your dog on a leash, condition or not, or I’ll have to give you a ticket.

I will, I told him with a grateful nod and smile. I’ll go up and get the leash right now.

Stupid rules. A gruff voice sighed.

The officer looked at me and I to him.

What did you say? the officer asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Listen, I’m trying to let you off with a warning here.

Yes, and I really appreciate that, I answered, trying to figure out where the voice had come from. In my line of work, it could be anything from a ghost, to a spirit, ghoul or invisible entity. My eyes locked with Odin’s. No. Did you just say something?

Excuse me? the police officer said. He narrowed his beady eyes, looking from me to Odin and back again. Sir, are you on drugs?

No, well, yes, I drink coffee, but no to anything illegal, I told him, moving around the officer before he could rethink his decision. I’m headed up to my apartment right now, sir, to get a leash. Thank you so much. Odin, let’s go.

I speed-walked like I had run out of time for the bathroom break I desperately needed.

I had never seen Haven like this before. Residents hung outside their doors on their balconies, watching to see what would happen with the police activity. Again, I recognized most of their faces but only knew a few by name.

Dude, are you talking or am I losing it? I wondered, looking down at Odin as we crested the sagging steps up to my apartment on the 4 th floor.

Odin looked at me with those big brown puppy dog eyes.

It was you, wasn’t it? I asked, looking at his collar for the second time. Maybe I should have let you wear that later.

I might have pursued the conversation further, but we were on the top floor heading down the hall now, apartments on my left and the open railing on my right. I was shocked to see the majority of the police activity taking place in the apartment next to mine. Police officers stood outside the door while paramedics wheeled out a body on a stretcher. The figure was in a plastic bag, but it didn’t look that large. A woman maybe?

Robotically, I made my way to my door, trying to remember what I knew of the woman who lived next to me. I had seen her before, waved for sure, and maybe even introduced myself once. She was young, seemed nice. What was her name? Lauren? Lucy?

I fumbled for the keys to my door as my mind raced with the possibilities.

Excuse me, sir? Is this your apartment? A stern female voice reached my ears.

I turned to see a woman with a severe look to her eyes and a tight bun, approaching from my neighbor’s apartment. She wore slacks with a tucked in shirt and blazer. A badge was plainly seen on her belt.

I, uh—yes, this is where I live, I stammered, swallowing hard. I wasn’t sure why I was having such a hard time with death at the moment. My job flirted with it on a daily basis, but this just felt different. So close to my home, this felt invasive and uncomfortable.

I’m Detective Melchisky. Did you know the deceased? Detective Melchisky inquired, staring at me intently. Mr.… ?

Hunter, John Hunter, I supplied, extending a hand of greeting.

Mmm hmm, Mr. Hunter, Detective Melchisky said, eyeing me and then Odin with suspicion as she accepted the handshake. Mr. Hunter, you do realize not having your dog on a leash is against the law, don’t you?

Yes, Yes, I do, I’m sorry, I said, opening the door to my apartment on my left for Odin to walk inside. I was just bringing him in. It won’t happen again.

Detective Tight Pants, over here, a voice I was pretty sure was Odin huffed as he walked inside the apartment.

Did you say something? Detective Melchisky asked, crossing her arms over her chest. My pants are the appropriate size, thank you very much.

No, I’m sorry, that’s not—I’m sorry; that wasn’t me. It was—

I bit my tongue too late. I had painted myself in a corner where the truth was going to sound crazier than anything I could make up. I’m sorry. I have issues.

Apparently, Detective Melchisky said, shaking her head. She produced a notebook and a pen from her back pocket. I’m going to need you to write down your information and I’ll be asking you a few questions about the deceased.

What—what happened to her? I asked, accepting the notepad and pen. Is she okay?

She was murdered, Detective Melchisky answered.

TWO

Murdered? I asked, the pen on the notebook halting involuntarily as I wrote down my number. I had guessed as much, seeing the body being rolled out on the stretcher, but hearing it was something else.

That’s right, Detective Melchisky confirmed, eyeing me suspiciously. How well did you know the deceased?

Not really that well at all, I said, ashamed I didn’t take the time to get to know her better. We exchanged smiles and waves when we passed, but we didn’t pass often. I think when she first moved in, I introduced myself, and that was about it, but that was years ago. I guess our work schedules didn’t coincide for seeing one another much coming from or to our apartments.

Be that as it may, I have a few questions for you, Detective Melchisky said, reaching for her phone, which had begun to vibrate. She pursed her lips and then looked back at me. I have to take this, but I’ll be calling to set up a time to speak with you, Mr. Hunter.

Of course, I answered truthfully. Whatever I can do to help.

I handed Detective Melchisky her notepad and pen back. She nodded and turned to answer her call.

What in the name of Baba Yaga did you do this time? Shannon’s voice reached me from the stairwell.

I looked back to see Shannon cresting the last step onto my floor. Shannon lived below me on the third floor. She carried a to-go bag of Matty Too Fatty’s in her left hand and an extra-large drink in the other.

I didn’t do anything. I shook my head. There—there was a murder right next door to me.

Only you, Shannon said, rolling her eyes. Who lives next to you?

Her name is—was—Lisa? I asked more than answered. You don’t think—

I stopped talking, exchanging words for a smile as a pair of plain-clothed officers walked up the steps behind Shannon and made for the apartment next door.

I moved down the hall and motioned Shannon to follow me downstairs out of earshot. I didn’t say anything until we were on the ground floor next to the rusted gate housing the decrepit pool.

You don’t think this had anything to do with me or Hunters for Hire, do you? I asked, trying to keep my voice low. What are the odds someone gets murdered right next door to me, given our line or work?

Don’t drink this; just hold it, Shannon ordered, giving me her Matty Too Fatty’s cup and then opening her bag and digging into her fries. I don’t think well on an empty stomach. If they forgot to give me ketchup again, I’m going to stab someone.

Shannon, I said with a seriousness in my voice that made her look up with a fistful of french fries. A woman was just murdered in our apartment complex. The murderer could still be here. None of this bothers you at all?

I mean, Shannon allowed around a mouthful of fries. Of course, but a girl’s got to eat. The cops will catch whoever did this, and if they don’t, then we will. I bet Mrs. Grundy knows something, with her ties to the Court. Besides, doesn’t she have this place locked down with magic wards or something?

You may be right, I said, handing Shannon her drink and turning to go over to knock on Mrs. Grundy’s door.

Mrs. Grundy was a Watcher for the Court, a supernatural organization as old as time that has been monitoring the events of Earth. I had only met three Watchers and none of them were pushovers. Mrs. Grundy was a kind of mentor slash case worker for the Court. I trusted her as much as any employee could trust the hand that feeds them.

I went over to her door on the bottom floor of the apartment complex. Her ground floor unit was on the opposite side of mine. I raised a closed fist and gently knocked.

My fist didn’t even have time to come down on the closed door a second time before it opened and Mrs. Grundy stepped out. The thing about Mrs. Grundy was that, while she was older, she didn’t appear any less in charge or less capable than a woman half her age. She was quick and able-bodied, like a thin layer of silk over a honed blade.

Well, if it isn’t my favorite hunters, Mrs. Grundy greeted, smiling at Shannon and me. I can guess you’ve come for the news?

News? I asked.

Once you saw the murder, you put two and two together and realized whoever killed Lisa Godfrey was actually trying to get to you, Jonny, Mrs. Grundy answered, looking at us with a sad smile. Missed the apartment number by one. Probably waited in Lisa’s apartment thinking it was yours, Jonny.

My mouth was so far open, I didn’t realize it until Shannon reached over and pressed her hand to the bottom of my jaw to help me close it.

No, no, that’s not what I was thinking at all, I denied, shaking my head. What? Are you serious? No, is that possible?

Anything is possible, Mrs. Grundy allowed, pursing her lips. But come inside; there’s too many ears out here at the moment.

I looked around to see many of our neighbors still outside watching the police and forensics team come and go.

Shannon and I followed Mrs. Grundy inside of her apartment. Immediately, we were greeted by her two hellhounds, Warden and Cerberus. The big dogs wagged their tails, content to let me pat their heads but more interested in what Shannon carried in her hands.

Mrs. Grundy’s apartment was a mirror image of my own when it came to the blueprint. Two rooms, one with a connected bathroom, the other with the bathroom across the hall. The kitchen, small dining area, and family room in the middle. That was about as far as things went when it came to our places being similar. Mrs. Grundy had gone for the more single female in her seventies look with comfy couches and doilies, crocheted blankets, and clap-on lights.

As you know, hellhounds come and go as they please, Mrs. Grundy reminded us. However, Warden and Cerberus have been on guard for the last two nights, ever since the ward was tested.

Oh good, they did put ketchup in here, Shannon blurted, claiming the kitchen island as her own and setting up shop.

We looked at her disapprovingly.

Go ahead, I’m listening, Shannon said, taking a bite of her juicy double cheeseburger.

My stomach did a backflip.

What were you saying about the ward? I asked, trying to rein my stomach back into the conversation. It was tested? What does that mean?

Two nights ago, something not of this world tried to get into Haven, Mrs. Grundy informed us. I felt it, but it was gone just as soon as it was there. Warden and Cerberus arrived a few minutes later when I called for them. They smelled the area and refused to leave. Whatever was here wasn’t allowed in.

So then why do we have a dead neighbor? Shannon asked.

And why do you think it was after me? I added.

The barrier only works against supernatural elements, Mrs. Grundy explained. It doesn’t hold out your average run-of-the-mill hit man.

You think who or whatever tested the ward two nights ago opted to send in a human to do its dirty work last night? I said, following the trail of crumbs Mrs. Grundy was leaving for me to gather. Is that what happened?

When you get to live as long as I have, you begin to understand that nothing happens by chance, Mrs. Grundy explained. Everything has a reason, whether we get to see and understand it or not.

So you’re using the same logic to explain why Jonny’s neighbor was killed and not Jonny, Shannon surmised. What are the odds a supernatural creature is here for anyone else but the three of us? And what are the odds Jonny’s neighbor is the one that gets put six feet under?

What are the odds indeed? Mrs. Grundy mused, opening her mouth to say more. I caught her hesitation before she decided against relaying whatever she was going to say next.

What is it? I asked with a sideways glance. Do you know something else?

I—no, not for sure. The power that tested the ward two nights ago; it felt so—familiar, Mrs. Grundy said with a far-off look in her eyes. I don’t know how, but I’m going to look into it. In the meantime, I would suggest you two be on your guard and figure out whatever you can about Lisa Godfrey. If by any chance she was up to something, and the hit was indeed meant for her, perhaps we can help the authorities bring the killer to light.

An involuntary shudder raced down my spine. I didn’t know what was worse, thinking a killer was loose, out to get me, and had accidentally killed my neighbor instead, or that Lisa Godfrey had been up to something nefarious for some time and I had no idea who I was living next door to.

And who’s to say the killer isn’t here in Haven? Shannon shrugged, slurping on her drink. I mean, let’s not rule that one out yet, either.

We should check her apartment when the police are gone, I said without thinking about the implications. We’ve got to figure out who Lisa Godfrey was and who would want her dead.

Mr. Hyde might know something, Shannon offered. He’s the landlord after all. He had to allow her to stay and collected rent from her every month. Maybe he has a tip or two.

Indeed, Mrs. Grundy said, still with that same far-off look in her eyes.

At this point, I was positive she was keeping something from us. As equally positive as I was that she wasn’t going to tell me if I pressed, so I decided to let it go.

All right, let’s get this show on the road, I said, heading for the door. Come on, Shannon, let’s go find out who Lisa Godfrey was.

THREE

We decided to give the detectives some time to do their questioning before we began our investigation. Things at the office and our new training school were moving along as planned. Shannon and I could give this our full attention for a day or two. We decided to give it a few hours and then search Lisa’s apartment.

I took the opportunity to head back up to my apartment, get some food in me, shower, and change. I opened the door to my apartment to be greeted by Odin’s low growl coming from the door to my room.

Odin sniffed the underside of the barrier menacingly. He patrolled the door, walking back and forth as if he were daring something or someone to come out.

What is it, boy? I asked, closing the door behind me. I reached for Blood Rage, which sat at the small of my back in its much more user-friendly tomahawk size. The hammer from heaven had a few different powers, one of them was being able to shrink down to a size not much larger than my forearm, or grow to its true form of the warhammer on command.

I carried it with me everywhere. Right now, I lifted it from my back gauging what was on the other side of the door by the runes on the weapon. The heavenly text glowed a fierce red when it was in the presence of evil. There was no such glow now.

Despite that, there was no way I was leaving anything to chance with a killer on the loose. Maybe even said killer being part of the Haven community. With a thought, Blood Rage grew to its true form and I prepared to do battle with who or whatever was on the other side of the door.

Odin’s hair raised on his back as I reached for the handle.

Don’t think this gets you off the hook for being so rude earlier and almost getting me in trouble,