“Tell someone to get on that shit,” Brownstone suggested. He pulled out his phone and tapped away, his eyes blazing in anger. “I’ve just submitted a donation to the Los Angeles County Citizen’s Bounty Fund requesting a bounty issuance against that fucker. That should help things along.”
Greg and Delroy looked at each other in confusion.
“You’re going to take a bounty that you’re funding yourself?” Delroy asked. “What’s the point?”
“He’s level four and a cop-killer,” Brownstone said. “That combo should almost automatically result in a dead-or-alive flag.”
The cops stared at the man. He’d already brought down King Pyro once, and the only reason he hadn’t killed the man is because the police on site had stopped him. Now the criminal had added several LAPD officers to his victim list. About the last thing either Greg or Delroy wanted to do was protect the asshole.
When a monster showed up, throw another monster at him.
“I’ll see about expediting things,” Delroy offered. “I know some people who work in Bounty Processing.”
Brownstone nodded and turned to leave. “Remember to pick up your drone before you leave.”
Greg rolled the window back up once the bounty hunter was out of earshot. “You think that’s kosher? I mean, he practically told us he’s paying into that fund to go kill a guy and get away with it.”
“Nah, he’s paying money to take out a murderous sonofabitch who killed a bunch of cops. I’m not gonna cry for King Pyro. That fucker is about to reap what he’s sown.”
24
Half an hour later James stood in front of the shelving unit behind the false wall in his hidden room in Angel Long-Term Storage, his so-called “warehouse.” He peered down at a safe near the wall.
I beat Pyro last time without the necklace. I shouldn’t use that shit. Maybe next time I put it on, I’ll listen to the whispers and start ranting about how I’m King Ghost.
The bounty hunter sighed and shook his head. He didn’t understand how King Pyro had escaped so quickly. He’d beaten the man down and broken more than a few bones. Even if the maniac had healed quickly, he should have been out of commission longer.
What did you hide, asshole?
James chuckled darkly to himself. It was just like he’d thought when dealing with Sombra: the smart bastards always held back one last trick, just in case. The LAPD and the bounty hunter had underestimated King Pyro, and now several cops were dead because of it.
No. The bounty hunter needed to go all-out before more people died. Besides, dealing with the bastard had stopped being about a bounty the second Pyro had issued his threat.
This was now personal.
A personal vendetta that would end with a piece of shit being removed from the streets. Sounded like win-win to James. Father McCartney might disagree, but the bounty hunter would leave it to the priest to save his sinner’s soul.
James knelt in front of the safe and placed this thumb on the DNA reader. A burning sensation spread over this thumb. Thirty seconds later the safe popped open, revealing the interior safe with its keypad and required sixty-digit code. He started the long, laborious process of entering the code.
The smaller safe clicked open, revealing the artifact he both feared and needed: a circular gold and silver amulet connected to a necklace. The familiar three crystals colored azure, crimson, and jade lay inside the amulet without even a speck of dust on them.
James frowned. His heart thumped with fear at the idea of having to use the cursed artifact, but he couldn’t get past the fact that King Pyro was rampaging again.
Both Adams and Padilla were nothing—just weak-ass pieces of shit who found something and got stronger. What did that say about him?
His rough fingers slid under the necklace, and he pulled it out. James wondered if he was any better than King Pyro or Sombra the Deathbringer. No one could see the bounty hunter in action without realizing he was stronger and tougher than a normal man, even without the necklace.
One sick thought kept returning: he’d been found with the necklace as a child.
What kind of monsters would Adams and Padilla have been if they’d grown up already influenced by magic like that?
James lifted his arm, ready to throw the necklace to the ground in disgust, but instead he slowly lowered the artifact and shook his head.
“Maybe I’ll die in ten years at the hands of an AET team,” he muttered to himself. “But before then, I’m gonna do what I can to stop the bastards who’ve already crossed the fucking line.”
James set the necklace on an empty spot on the shelf, then searched the safe for a small gray box. He found the object of his search and pulled it from the shelf.
It wasn’t anything special or lethal, just small metal squares and plastic strips with adhesive backing. A man never knew what he might need during a bounty hunt.
The bounty hunter pulled off the paper covering the adhesive pad on one of the metal squares and then affixed it to the back of the amulet portion of the necklace. He couldn’t be sure if the bonding process wouldn’t start if the amulet portion didn’t touch, but he hoped so. In battle, he wanted to be able to just tug off the backing to quickly gain the necklace’s power.
James took a deep breath and slipped the necklace over his head and under his shirt. The cool metal square touched his chest, but no pain or burning spiked his nerves. He’d been right. More importantly, the amulet necklace wasn’t whispering to him.
Good. If I need it, I can use it. If not, no harm, no foul. And no creepy whispers.
The bounty hunter pulled a go-case filled with weapons from the other side. He still needed to clean his equipment from the Mexico trip, but that could wait until after he’d dealt with King Pyro. Fortunately he always kept a few cases ready, just in case he had to kick a lot of ass in rapid succession.
It’d been a busy week.
James grabbed a duster from the shelf. It provided plenty of concealment for weapons, and the last time he’d worn one, Shay hadn’t bitched so much about his fashion choices.
What the fuck? Why was he worried about what that woman would think? She wasn’t involved in this shit.
He grunted and pushed the thoughts of the dark-haired tomb raider out of his mind. Michael had been right. Women were complications, and James still wasn’t sure if he needed more of those in this life.
A loud groan escaped his mouth a moment later.
James might not have to worry about Shay, but before he dealt with King Pyro he’d have to negotiate with another difficult woman.
How did I end up with so many women in my life?
James steeled his nerves as he hopped out of his F-350 and marched toward Zoe’s front door. He’d wasted her last healing potion, but he didn’t want to risk taking on the out-of-control King Pyro without a new one. The last encounter had made it clear that the pyromancer was right in one sense—even the bounty hunter had burned in the end.
The front door swung open before James even knocked.
“Hello, James,” Zoe purred, her breath stinking of wine. Unlike their last visit, this time the woman at least had on a dress—even if the hunter-green sundress was a bit on skimpy side. “I was delighted when I got your call.” She motioned him inside, then took several unsteady steps.
James wasn’t sure how much of Zoe’s drinking was because she was an alcoholic, or because she followed the alcohol-intensive Dionysian Way of magic. Probably like most things in life, it was a little of both. He couldn’t argue with the results, though, and he didn’t know her well enough to question her life choices.
The bounty hunter followed the potions witch into her kitchen, having to duck to avoid some of the plants hanging from the ceiling and shift to the side to avoid pots on the floor. Every time he came to Zoe’s house, he was convinced that it was slowly changing from a home into a mystical arboretum. He couldn’t spot any actual furniture in her living room.
Snapping and rustling caught his attent
ion when he stepped into the kitchen. A bright orange plant sat in the corner; it was several feet tall, and its top was adorned with a single huge orange-red flower. Twitching razor-tipped tendrils surrounded the flower, and an angry fanged maw snapped in the center.
“What the fuck is that?” James said, pointing to the monstrosity.
“Oh, I don’t know what they call it. The Wood Elf who sold it to me told me I wouldn’t be able to pronounce the name anyway. I just call it Audrey II. It’s very hard to raise, though. It can only be fed small creatures already infused with magic.” Zoe shook her head, trying to focus her bloodshot gray eyes. “And they’ve been cracking down on invasive alien species lately.” She rolled her eyes and blew a few rogue strands of dark hair out of her face. “Those bureaucrats in Sacramento; always standing in the way of an honest woman’s work.”
“Why do I think I’m gonna end up having to kill that thing for you?” James mumbled.
Zoe giggled and sashayed over to the bounty hunter. “I’ll make it worth your while if you do.”
He frowned, not wanting to go through another round of her attempts to seduce him.
The witch raised a slender finger and tapped him on the chest. “I can see it in your face, you know.”
“See what?”
“The irritation.”
“It helps when people aren’t trying to piss me off.” James shrugged. “And I’ve never claimed not to be an asshole.”
Zoe laughed, swaying slightly. “No, you haven’t.” She ran a hand down James’ chest.
He grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand back. “No, Zoe. I don’t have time for this shit.”
The witch sighed and stepped away. “I know.” She took a deep breath. “I’m like a bug; you know, attracted to the light. Do you even understand that light in you, James?”
He stared at her for a second, wondering what the woman was getting at. Alison had made it clear that she saw something special in his soul, but he’d never heard Zoe talk about being able to see souls. Knowing the woman, the whole speech was probably just a new seduction strategy.
“What the hell are you talking about?” James asked.
Zoe sighed and shook a finger. “No need to be rude, lover. I can look, but not touch.”
“But you did just touch.”
“You have me there.” The humor fled her face. “Like I said, it’s like a bug being attracted to the light, but I realized something important recently and it’s made me a little sad.”
“You realized you drink too much?”
Zoe snorted. “No. If anything, I don’t drink enough.” She gestured to the ceiling light fixture. “Let’s just say a bug might see a friend playing with a light and get fried, and then they realize that maybe playing with the light is dangerous and you should avoid it.”
James nodded slowly.
The witch looked him up and down. “If only the light wasn’t so damned yummy.” She gestured to her kitchen table, where a rack containing several vials sat on top. Her slender fingers picked out a small vial filled with red liquid. “You know why I want you, James?”
“Because you’re drunk most of the time?” James replied. “You can’t see the ugliness?”
“You have character, even if you’re not totally my type.”
“I’ll probably regret asking, but what’s your type?”
Zoe chuckled and shook her head. “I don’t like boytoys; those men with perfect hairless bodies and unblemished skin. Give me some handles to hold on to when the bucking gets violent; that’s what makes a night memorable.” She tilted her head as her gaze roamed his body. “You’ve got some of that, especially a face with character, but not all of it. Maybe I just want you so badly because you keep saying no.”
“Well, if I find someone who matches that description looking for a wild alcoholic woman, I’ll send him your way.”
The witch shrugged and held out her hand, palm up, with the potion. “You’re lucky I had an extra one of these sitting around, but it won’t be cheap.”
James pulled out a one-carat diamond out of a pocket in his duster and held it out. “How about this? I figured you could use it in your potions or some shit. Sell it, for all I care.”
Zoe dropped the potion into his hand and snatched up the diamond. She eyed the gemstone. “There’s a lot of things I could do with this. Some delightful things.”
“We have a deal then?”
“Oh, yes.”
“I should get going.” James turned to leave.
“Before you go, I’ve heard something whispered among those in the magical community you might find of interest.”
The bounty hunter turned around. “What?”
“The kemana down south has been reporting sightings of new elves; dark ones.”
“And?”
Zoe licked her full lips. “If that doesn’t concern you, don’t worry about it. But you do have a bad habit of pissing people off, and your name comes up more often than you might think.” She sighed. “Just...don’t get killed, James.”
He offered her a quick nod. “Thanks for the information and the potion.”
Zoe watched as the F-350 pulled out of her driveway into the street, then closed her front door.
She shook her head. “James, you’re a clueless idiot, and I’m a dumbass fool.” She lifted the diamond and stared at it. “Well, it’s not exactly a ring, but I’ll keep it, James.” A grin spread across her face. “I’ve got the perfect use for this little gem.”
25
“Huh, the new door looks better,” James said as he stepped toward the Black Sun. Nice polished metal with no scratches. Shit, it didn’t even stink of urine.
He didn’t regret paying for the door now. He also didn’t know if Tyler would be happy to see him, but he suspected the man would be far more concerned about King Pyro coming back and causing trouble. At least James had paid for the damage he’d caused.
The bounty hunter slipped on leather gloves and threw open the door. Six lowlifes sat around the bar, and only spared him the briefest of glances. Tyler gave him a nod and turned toward a TV in the corner.
“As you can see,” blared a reporter on the TV, “our news chopper has been following the notorious Jordan Adams, who goes by the name King Pyro. According to a voice mail he left with authorities, this is the beginning of a reign of terror in which he, and I quote, ‘Will burn Los Angeles until only ashes remain.’”
A motorcycle barreled along hundreds of feet below the helicopter. Every few seconds a fireball blasted from the rider, smashing into a nearby car or building. King Pyro certainly didn’t do subtle.
The motorcycle jerked to the side, heading southbound on the 110. He pulled off at an exit and disappeared, hidden by the buildings.
“We’ve received reports that the LAPD AET has been dispatched to the area,” the reporter continued. “Authorities are asking that everyone keep clear of the area. Police want to remind everyone that Adams is a level-four threat.” The reporter tilted his head, looking to the side and listening to his earbud before looking straight into the camera. “We’ve just been informed that a new bounty has been issued on Jordan Adams, and in a rare turn of events, it’s an official dead-or-alive tag. Again, authorities advise all citizens to avoid engaging this man unless you’re a licensed class-four bounty hunter or higher.”
James narrowed his eyes, wondering why the hell King Pyro was being so obvious. Sure, the guy was tough, but he’d recently received a beat-down that proved he wouldn’t always win. Even ignoring the bounty and the other bounty hunters it might bring, he was asking AET to show up—and that could end in a missile or railgun being used.
Something didn’t smell right about the whole thing. James pulled his phone out and started searching a map of the area where the news chopper had lost King Pyro.
You’re not the dumbass I thought you were, Adams. I’ll give you that. But you were dumb enough not to leave town when you had the chance.
“Like the new door
, Tyler,” James called, and turned to leave.
The other man raised his middle finger. “Fuck you, Brownstone.”
James barreled down the road in his F-350, blaring his horn and cutting off other drivers. He hit the 110 and headed north. He’d convinced himself that King Pyro was trying to get the entire LAPD going in the wrong direction. For all the man’s pretentions and arrogance, in the end he specialized in a very old-fashioned crime: bank robbery.
If AET were busy searching an area miles away from the man, Pyro could rush into a bank, grab what he needed, and escape before the cops even knew what was going on. There was a bank just off the 110 a few miles up the road from the criminal’s last known location.
It was a halfway-decent plan.
James made a twenty-minute trip in ten with his aggressive driving. With all the traffic drones flying around the city he was sure a large ticket was already on its way, but at least no cops stopped him. His truck roared off the exit toward the bank. He squealed to a stop in the parking lot, not even bothering to park.
After a quick check of his weapons, he threw open the door and rushed toward the bank.
Shit. I better be careful about this. Don’t want anyone to think I’m robbing the bank.
James kept his pistol holstered as he opened the glass door leading into the bank lobby and stepped inside.
Light instrumental K-Pop played over the speakers. Two long lines of bored-looking customers waited to talk to the tellers. A single security guard with a revolver sat in a chair, eyeing James with suspicion.
The bounty hunter tore his gaze away from the security guard to look around the bank, but he didn’t spot King Pyro.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Was I wrong?”
James stepped farther into the bank, past the lines toward several desks in the back. The security guard rose, his hand on the grip of his revolver.
Not your time to shine, idiot. Just sit down.
The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Boxed Set One (Books 1-3): Feared By Hell, Rejected By Heaven, Eye For An Eye (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Boxed Sets) Page 38