Page 11 of Poison Ivy
“Watch your step,” the woman’s voice comes from in front of me.
We descend a flight of stairs, the air growing cooler and damper with each step. Finally, we emerge into a cavernous room that looks like a cross between a high-tech command centre and a medieval torture chamber. Sleek computer banks line one wall, while the other holds an impressive array of weapons and runic objects.
“Welcome to the place where you will get answers,” the woman says.
“Nice setup. But I still don’t know what the fuck is going on.”
She chuckles. “Always straight to the point. I like that about you, Ivy.”
“You seem to like a lot of things about me,” I say dryly. “Care to share how you know so much?”
“We’ve been watching you for a while now,” she admits. “Ever since you started poking around in places you shouldn’t.”
I cross my arms as a warlock with a very dark aura stares at me from over the top of his computer screen. I shift uncomfortably, trying to ignore his penetrating gaze. “And what places would those be?”
“The supernatural underbelly of England,” she says matter-of-factly. “You’ve been asking questions and causing quite a stir.”
I keep my face carefully neutral, but inside, my mind is racing. How does she know about that? I’ve been so careful, covering my tracks and using every ounce of cunning I possess to dig up information on the creatures I suspect are responsible for my parents’ deaths.
“You’re not denying it,” she notes.
I shrug. “Seems pointless to lie when you clearly know more than you’re letting on.”
She nods approvingly. “Smart girl. Yes, we know about your... extracurricular activities. And we’re impressed. Not many creatures could uncover as much as you have on their own, and with the methods you employ, you have caught our attention.”
The warlock chuckles, but there is no humour in it. It’s a vicious sound that grates on my nerves.
“Thanks for the compliment, I guess. But you still haven’t told me who you are or what you want with me.”
She smiles, and this time, it almost reaches her eyes. “You can call me Vera. We are… well, let’s call it an unofficial regulatory body for the supernatural world.”
I snort. “Unofficial. Nice. So you think the Supernatural Investigations Agency is a load of crap, too?”
“Creatures fall through the cracks. It’s what happens. We clean up the mess.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“We have a proposition for you, Ivy. We want you to join us.”
I bark out a laugh. “Join you? To do what, exactly? Hunt monsters who escape the jaws of justice?”
“Precisely.”
The warlock’s gaze becomes more invasive. It feels like he is probing through my brain. Hell, for all I know, he could be.
Ignoring him, I stare at her, waiting for the punchline. When it doesn’t come, I shake my head. “You’re insane. I don’t know the first thing about hunting anything.”
“But you do,” Vera insists. “You’ve already shown a remarkable aptitude for investigation and tracking. With proper training, you could be one of our best.”
I narrow my eyes. “And what’s in it for me?”
“Besides the chance to avenge those who have been screwed over by the failed justice system? You will get answers about your parents.”
“What happened to them?” I jump on that, my heart pounding in my ears.
She gives me a sinister smile. “Not yet. You have to prove you are worthy of this information.”
“Of course,” I mutter. “Look, I’m not a hunter. I can’t do what you are asking.”
