Witch Bitch

Chapter 1

"Son of a bitch!" I fell to the ground, clutching at my upper right arm as blood bubbled up between my fingers. I hissed between my teeth. Now I was pissed.

I snatched up my pistol that I had dropped when the ghost had attacked. I sat with my back against the wall as I held my Beretta up with my good arm. The old house creaked ominously as I listened for any sign of the angered spirit. A slight whooshing sound to my right caused me to swing the gun around and fire my hand made iron-tipped-salt-coated bullets. The ghost vaporized although I knew it would only be momentary. I made a mad dash for the skeletal figure that was propped in the corner of the basement. I poured a premixed solution of salt and gasoline from the bottle that I always kept with me over the ghost's human remains. I lit one of the flares that I also always carried with me and threw it on the body. The skeleton went up in a flash of heat. I turned to see the ghost disappear in a cloud of ash. Its dying screech lingering for a moment in the now empty room. I slumped against the wall panting heavily.

I made my way slowly up the basement stairs, tying a scrap from the hem of my shirt around my arm to slow the bleeding. I grimaced. I was gonna need stitches. I hated needles. I could fight all manner of supernatural creatures without flinching, but I hated needles.

I made it to the first floor and gathered my scattered weapons, packing them into the worn out army duffle bag. I pulled my keys from my pocket walking out the door. I tossed my gear into the passenger seat of my car, shutting the door as my phone rang. I glanced at the name on the screen and groaned.

"What," I snapped as I slammed the driver's door closed after climbing in.

"Don't get snippy with me, Sweetheart," a gruff British voice tsked.

"I just got off a job. I need stitches and a hot shower. Whatever demon bullshit you got for me can wait, Crowley."

"I believe I have a lead on Rowena."

I paused. I had been tracking that bitch for over a year.

"I'm listening."

"My minions tracked her to San Jose, California. Apparently mummy has been sleeping around with-"

"Crowley, I don't want to hear about your mother and her sexual exploits. Okay? I'll leave first thing tomorrow morning. Right now I need food and sleep."

"Do try not to get yourself in trouble this time," he sing-songed. The line went dead.

I sighed, tilting my head back, closing my eyes. I needed a drink.

My alarm blared from my phone, jolting me from my nightmare. It was the same one I've been having most every night since the attack. I smacked at my phone until the sound of Asia stopped making my head throb. I'd had too much to drink last night. Again.

I got up and made a pot of coffee which I poured into my huge thermos to take with me on the road. I would be making as few stops as possible. I needed to get to California before that ginger bitch vanished again. I packed a bag for the road and grabbed more of my hunter's gear from the hidden safe in my closet. I loaded it all into the trunk of my1969 Chevy Camaro. I walked around to the driver's side and climbed in. I flipped through my cassettes and found my AC/DC Back in Black tape. I grinned as I popped it in. I pulled out of the apartments parking lot, squealing the tires as I drove away.

I pulled into the motel lot, throwing the car in park. I climbed out, slamming the door behind me. I grabbed my bag from the trunk and entered the dumpy little office. I pulled out one of the credit cards I had swiped off someone a few weeks ago.

"Single bed room," I told the middle aged man behind the formica counter top. He raised his eyes from the small tv screen he had sitting next to the outdated computer.

"How long will your stay be?"

"Unknown. Work. Could be a few days. Could be a month. Just put me down for one night for now."

He looked over the top of his glasses at me, squinting slightly. He didn't seem to find anything out of place and ran the card.

"Enjoy your stay," he mumbled, passing me the key to my room, already engrossed in the black and white screen again.

I walked out and down five doors before getting to my room. The paint on the dusty pink door was peeling. I opened the door and cringed at the ugly green carpet and garish orange wallpaper. I sighed. This was the life of a hunter. Crappy motels and stealing credit cards to pay for them. I threw my gear on the bed and walked to the bathroom. The mirror was cracked and the sink looked ready to fall off the wall. The shower tiles were chipped and the grout was nearly gone. At least I can still take a hot shower, I thought as I tested the taps.

Returning to the main room I pulled the chair out from the rickety table and pulled out my laptop. I began hacking into the cities traffic cams searching for any sign of Rowena. That redheaded whore was top priority for me. I sat back and watched the screen flash through millions of video feeds. I knew it wasn't going to be easy but damnit I needed to find the celtic witch. My phone rang, making me jump a bit. I rolled my eyes and answered.

"Crowley."

"Blondie. I trust you made it to California, land of the heathens?"

"Land of the heathens, huh? That's something coming from the former king of hell."

"It's why Mother dearest hides there. They're her kind of people."

"Did your minions tell you where in the city to find her? I hacked into the camera systems but they haven't located her yet. If I could narrow the search it would be a hell of a lot easier."

"They never said."

"Ya know, you might want to reconsider giving people information unless it is in fact useful."

"You're close to where she is, are you not?"

"Crowley, I-"

"Hold on, Love. I have a visitor. I'll call you back." He hung up.

"Ugh! He is infuriating!" I growled at the air. I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated.

A ping from my laptop made me turn my head so fast it popped. I hissed, rubbing my hand ruefully across the base of my skull. I scanned the information that my computer had generated. A camera had caught sight of Rowena about twenty minutes ago across town. I quickly notified Crowley via text before grabbing my duffle. I practically ran out the door as soon as I had gathered all my things. I jumped into the car, haphazardly throwing the bag into the back seat. My heart pounded in my chest as I sped away, pushing the car to its limit.

This was my chance. This was the moment I had been waiting for for the past twenty years. She was the witch who sent the demon that killed my family.