The Horsemen Gather: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 17)

by Michael Anderle

  James snorted. “What a dumbass.”

  “I told him fine.” Shay offered an evil smile. “And then I lied about seeing someone in the doorway who looked like our fake professor. When the student turned around, I was all, ‘Shit. He just disappeared. That’s magic for you.’ I swear that little fucker was ready to wet himself right then and there.” She snickered.

  “He’ll probably call the PDA or AET eventually.”

  “I hope he does. That’ll be extra fun.” A thoughtful expression crossed Shay’s face. “I had another department meeting today. I’ll spare you the boring details, but I think I’ll need to do some occasional field work. They don’t mind having me as only a lecturer now, but that won’t last forever.”

  Thomas curled up beside Shay’s feet, ready for a nap.

  “Isn’t archaeology field work just tomb raiding without killing anyone?” James suggested with a curious expression.

  “Sort of. I’ve done that shit before. Remember when that CIA guy had me doing normal recovery jobs for him? Sure, they were artifact-recovery-focused rather than general archaeology, but it was the same basic idea.”

  James grunted. “You told me you ended up taking some people down anyway on the big job you did for him.”

  “Yeah.” Shay grinned. “But I wasn’t hired to do that. The guy didn’t seem eager to hire me again once he realized I was a tomb raider and not just a brave archaeologist, though. Funny thing, too, considering he went to the trouble of helping me. Or maybe…”

  “Maybe?”

  Shay’s mouth contorted into a frown. “The guy was into aliens. If he realized what you were, he might have wanted to stay the fuck away. Despite some of the lines he gave me about his goals, it might have been that he was just as into handling things in a black ops sort of way as what I was seeing from the assholes associated with Projects Nephilim and Ragnarök. Not gonna bitch too much about being ghosted by a CIA agent, but it’s still a little annoying.”

  “It’s good he left you alone.”

  “Oh?”

  James nodded. “Yeah. Fuck working for the government, anyway, especially some spy. If he really cared about half the shit he told you about, he would have been doing more than grabbing artifacts in random countries. Not being a complete dick isn’t the same thing as being trustworthy. The guy lies all the time for his job. For all you know, he’s killed tons of people who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “I know, but it was still kind of strange how it went down.” Shay looked at Thomas for a moment. “And I doubt he’s a total piece of shit. I can’t say the guy screwed me or anything. He paid me for what I did, and he helped me with Yulia. The ghosting was kind of annoying, but he’s CIA. But you’re right. That’s kind of what they do; I knew what I was getting into. He’s not important anyway. The important thing is that I’m going to have to go on some digs. Given my specialties, I might end up going to more dangerous places than a lot of my colleagues.”

  James grunted. “If you kill a bunch of monsters or bandits or whatever, won’t people get suspicious?”

  He wasn’t sure how necessary it was for Shay to hide her true history, but she had put a lot of effort into keeping her background from most people, so she obviously felt there was still value in keeping it concealed.

  I’ve been hiding shit, too. I confess to Father McCartney, but he doesn’t know what I am. I don’t know if that’s okay or not, but it also might not be safe for him to know. It’s not like being an alien is a sin, and the sins are what I’m being forgiven for. Lying to a priest has to be a sin, though, even by omission.

  Shay pointed at James, pulling him out of his theological thoughts. “You can solve that problem. You’re convenient that way.”

  “Huh? Convenient?” James grimaced. “I don’t want to go on archaeology digs. They sound boring as fuck. Sitting around digging all day? Come on. You think I’d actually like that?”

  There was no reason to lie about the truth. It wasn’t like he’d kept his preferences hidden in the past, and if they were going to get married, all the more reason to be honest. Besides, he really didn’t want to have to go on boring digs.

  “Your lack of love for ancient history and knowledge is forever a dark spot against you, James Brownstone.” Shay shook a finger at him. “But I’m not talking about bringing you along on digs. You’d probably blow up all the artifacts. I’m talking about the fact that everyone knows I’m dating you. If I go on a dig and end up having to kick someone’s ass, I can just say, ‘Oh, well, James taught me that because he was worried about some criminal kidnapping me,’ and everyone will nod like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You’re a convenient excuse in a lot of ways for anything that seems weird or off about my life.”

  “Oh.” James grunted. “I guess that shit will work. You going on a dig anytime soon?”

  Shay shook her head. “Probably in the summer, but I’ll make sure I hang out with Alison at least some of the time during the break.” A wistful expression took over her face. “A few years back I was plotting how to escape a murderous cartel and planning to disappear forever. Now I’m working a semi-normal job and worrying about spending time with a teenager who is soon to be my daughter. I didn’t see that shit coming. You change people by being around them, James. You’re kind of a hurricane that wrecks things but leaves them better after the storm passes.”

  “I’m the same man I always was.” James shrugged. “I haven’t changed shit about other people.”

  “The only bigger lie than that would be if you said you hate barbeque.”

  James grunted. “Need a hundred of those mind-control artifacts to get me to say that shit.”

  “Probably a thousand. Ten thousand.” Shay tilted her head, her gaze focused on his chest. “You busy tomorrow?”

  “I’ve got a PFW meeting in the afternoon, but that’s it. Why?”

  Shay pointed at his chest. “I was reading something the other day about the gates and magic levels, and it got me thinking about that shit in Romania and some of the stuff with Whispy.”

  “What about it?”

  “You haven’t been able to reach advanced mode without getting pissed pretty much since then. I thought he said he was modifying you so you wouldn’t need to. You know, use all the background magic and shit?”

  “I think he’s tried his best, but there are limits.” James reached under his shirt and fingered the amulet. “From what he says, there’s not enough magic outside of weird places like that forest or kemanas for the adaptation to work by itself. Maybe in a few hundred years. I’ll probably be dead long before then, though.”

  “I see.” Shay nodded slowly. “In that case, I’ve got some ideas. Let’s hit Warehouse Five tomorrow and do some more tests.”

  Chapter Three

  Shay’s 9mm bullets bounced off James’ chest and clattered on the cement floor of the warehouse, as crumpled from the force of impact as if she’d been shooting them into a thick metal wall. She gave up after ten shots and pulled off her ear protection.

  “It’s a shame to even try to harm those abs,” she murmured. She’d told James to take off his shirt, since there was no reason to destroy a perfectly good shirt with their experiments. Tendrils from his already-bonded amulet visibly extended into much of his upper chest, and the amulet had sunken in, as it normally did.

  James used to be slightly embarrassed when Shay saw him this way, but she never seemed to care or mind. She couldn’t hear the symbiont, and in some ways, she still treated Whispy as a fancy artifact rather than the intelligent, self-aware entity he was. For now, that made everything better for all three of them.

  Recommend varied attacks for greater adaptation, Whispy sent. He’d made the same complaint concerning the previous few attacks from Shay: a knife, a tube that blasted fireballs, and a vial of acid.

  It’s fine. We’ll get to something interesting. Shay knows what she’s doing.

  After what had happened in Romania, James w
as more grateful than ever about how thorough Shay had been in helping the symbiont’s adaptation range. He wasn’t sure he would have escaped as unscathed as he had from some of the encounters in the forest without that previous exposure to many attack types. It was easy to anticipate that an enemy might use a fireball or bullet, but in a world of magic, monsters and alien nanoforms, a little extra training and lateral thinking could save a man’s life.

  Maybe she’s got a special artifact she wants to try, and she just wants to make sure everything’s the same as it was before the forest.

  Weapons and artifacts filled several nearby tables. So far, none of the tests had done more than scratch or tickle James.

  Shay furrowed her brow and grabbed her tachi from a table. “Might as well establish more baselines just to be sure.” She looked uncertain as she flexed her fingers around the hilt of the long blade.

  “It can’t hurt me anymore. That Harriken bastard got one chance, and he fucked it up.” James made a fist and raised his arm. “Go ahead.” He grunted. “Even if you chop it off, I should be able to use Whispy combined with a potion to regenerate it. Might be good to practice. Almost have to thank He Who Hunts for helping me learn that.”

  “Yeah, what a helpful guy. Thing. Whatever the fuck he was, and no, we’re not going to practice regenerating lost limbs, since lost limbs are a lot more than regenerating lost fingers, which is what happened last time.” Shay swung the sword, which bounced off James’ arm with a clang and left only a shallow scratch. With more confidence in her movements, she stabbed at his chest, but the second blow didn’t hurt him any worse than the first attack. A third slash also proved pointless.

  Ineffective attacks for adaptation, Whispy complained. Near maximum adaptation achieved.

  Get over it. We’re trying some shit here. We can’t get stronger if we don’t know our limits.

  “Huh,” Shay murmured. “I just realized something.”

  “What?” James asked.

  Shay set the sword down and walked over to tap the amulet. “You’re tougher now even without advanced mode armor. A lot tougher. It used to be at least I could get a half-decent cut in with some of this stuff, but now I can’t even scratch you after simple bonding, and that’s before we even start talking about your way more powerful regeneration.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s been tinkering and shit.” James shrugged. “Optimizing me. There are some tradeoffs, but he’s doing the stuff that works best with the way I fight.”

  Shay tilted her head as she looked James up and down. “Does that ever bother you?”

  “Not anymore.” James patted the amulet. “I’m not even human, and he basically made me human. He fucked with my genes and shit from the very beginning. It’s too late to start bitching now. He’s had plenty of time to make changes that I didn’t want, but he hasn’t, other than that shit when I was a kid. If he fucks with me too much, he knows I’ll just never put him on again or throw him in a volcano or some shit.”

  Continued usage necessary for maximum adaptation, Whispy noted.

  Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just keep in mind what might happen if you don’t do what I say.

  Shay laughed. “For a guy who wants to keep his life simple, accepting that an amulet has rewritten your DNA and continues to do so seems a bit much.”

  “How is it complicated? It’s not like I have to do anything,” James replied. “Do you spend a lot of time thinking about how your cells work in your body?”

  “No, I suppose I don’t. True enough. Anyway, let’s get back to business and do another baseline test.” Shay smiled as she slid her ear protection back on, walked over to another table, and picked up a high-powered rifle. “A little muzzle velocity makes all the difference to normal people.” She aimed it at his shoulder and pulled the trigger.

  The loud crack echoed throughout the warehouse as the bullet bounced off his shoulder, leaving a small scratch that started to heal after a few seconds. James wasn’t bothering to wear anything to protect his hearing, but the loud noises weren’t hurting his ears. Another example of adaptation.

  You can become the perfect weapon if you let go long enough for him to change you. Does that mean the Vax normally don’t?

  “I adapt,” James noted. “I’ve always adapted to shit. I used to think it was just him adapting, but now I get it’s always been both of us. So, no, it doesn’t freak me out, because it’s useful.”

  “But you’ve adapted a lot more these last few years than the rest of your life.” Shay set the rifle down. “I wonder why that is? Why the acceleration? I know you’ve been using him more, but I think it’s more than just that.”

  Maximum link integration necessary for extended modification without risk of neural damage. Improved link integration facilitating more efficient adaptation.

  James chuckled. “If I’m understanding him, it’s because I can talk to him now.”

  “That makes sense, as much as anything with adaptative alien symbionts make sense. The question becomes how much that extends out. You’ve got to have some sort of limit.”

  James grunted. “Yeah, anti-matter torpedoes.”

  “Very funny. But seriously, if we exposed you to enough radiation and explosions, would you be able to survive a nuke?” Shay eyed him as if she had one in a backroom she wanted to try out.

  She doesn’t have a nuke, does she?

  James made a face. “Yeah, well, some shit, I don’t want to test.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” Shay picked up a wavy jet-black dagger off the table, an Indonesian kris, and walked forward, weapon in hand. “This isn’t a nuke, but it might be fun to try. I picked this up as a bonus on a tomb raid. It’s magical, but since my gnome knives and the tachi no longer seem to hurt you, I wanted to see if something else magical might. If it doesn’t work, I’ve got another idea.”

  Engage in further exposure for maximum adaptation, Whispy demanded.

  You mean the knife or the nuke?

  Engage in further exposure to all adaptation potential that won’t result in unit termination.

  James snorted. So, what…the edge of a nuke explosion?

  Maximum adaptation necessary to achieve primary directive. Strategic-scale weaponry exposure necessary for maximum adaptation.

  Shay frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Whispy’s just got delusions of grandeur.” James held out his arm. “Do it.”

  Shay slashed at the arm, but the blade bounced off as if she had tried to cut through solid metal. A thin scratch was the only thing he earned for her efforts.

  “Too similar to the other shit, even if it is magic,” James suggested. “I mean, even magic’s got to be kind of like regular forces, with some of it related, right? It can’t all be unique. If it was, the Oricerans wouldn’t be able to counter each other.”

  “True enough, and there is enough similarity that they can teach all sorts of different types of magicals at the School of Necessary Magic,” Shay suggested.

  James grunted. “What was your other idea?”

  Shay held out the kris handle-first. “If Whispy has adapted to power himself off magic but there’s not enough background magic in most places on Earth for it to work, why not just use a battery as a jumpstart?”

  “A battery?” James took the knife. “Like in a kemana?”

  “That’s a possibility, but it’s not like you can stop in the middle of a fight and say, ‘Excuse me, I need to go to a semi-hidden magic town and charge up. Be right back.’” Shay nodded at the knife. “But if you could somehow take the magic from an artifact, that might be useful. Sometimes you might want to be revved up before shit gets really bad, and if this works, you don’t have to be so pissed, and you could focus more on a fight.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a healing potion. “Before we try that though, let’s see if this works.” She held out the vial. “This would be more cost-effective, as expensive as these are.”

  James took the vial, offering Shay a confused look. “We alrea
dy know healing potions work. We know Whispy can combine them with his power already. Shit, we already kind of talked about that earlier.”

  “You’re not understanding my point. It’s magical. He might be able to take the magic from it to fuel a transformation. If it works, it’ll end up being more practical than my other idea, because I have some theories on what’s going to happen if you try to take the magic from the knife. This is one of the potions that was specifically brewed to work for you.”

  James eyed the potion for a moment. “It’s worth a try.”

  “Exactly. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Try to take the magic from this for power.

  James downed the potion, and the harsh, unpleasant flavor coated his tongue. He wasn’t hurt, so there was no way to judge if the potion was doing anything, and he didn’t feel any different.

  Hey, let’s go to advanced mode, he thought.

  Power insufficient for advanced transformation, Whispy responded.

  Can’t you take it from the potion?

  Insufficient matrix capability for alternate power source usage.

  Can you adapt or some shit to make it possible?

  Necessary baseline matrix modifications would result in unacceptable reduction of tactical potential.

  James wasn’t surprised, but that didn’t keep him from being disappointed.

  Shay had been wrong to ask if James had limits. Whispy had already related that he did. There had been countless small trade-offs as the host and symbiont had adapted to each other, including the sacrifice of certain abilities. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be a terrifying weapon, just that there would always be some small weakness that a clever enemy might potentially exploit.

  James shook his head. “It didn’t work. From what Whispy was saying, I don’t think it will work with potions without fucking up a bunch of other stuff.” He shrugged.

  “But between what you remembered and what the Alliance has said, you’re probably nowhere near your full potential,” Shay responded. “I don’t get it. If it only takes a small number of Vax to invade a planet, that means a full-powered Vax has got to be equivalent to thousands or tens of thousands of troops, and they have to be able to survive anything short of city-destroying attacks. You’re tough, James, but I don’t think you’re that tough…yet.”