Here’s the home of the dumbest motherfucker on the planet. Well, maybe I should be fair. He might not have known who would be pissed about him robbing Jessie Rae’s, so he might just be the unluckiest motherfucker on the planet.
“Nah,” Trey murmured. “Definitely the dumbest.”
He pushed off the railing and strolled toward the apartment door. Even though he wanted to deliver a classic LA beat-down, the target didn’t have a bounty, so he would need to be careful to avoid assault charges. He needed to make it self-defense.
This shit’s gonna be fun. I’m usually trying to talk assholes down, not hyping a fight, but it don’t matter as long as I get the trophies back and he ends up in jail.
Trey stopped in front of the door and adjusted his tie. “Time to see how smart Demetrius is.” He rapped the door and plastered a pleasant smile on his face as he waited.
A half-minute passed before the door creaked open, a single dark eye staring out through the crack. “Who the fuck are you? I don’t need religion.”
“Oh, you need far more than that,” Trey responded. “Hey, Demetrius, can we chat?”
“I don’t know you, asshole. How do you know my name? You best get the fuck out of here before I throw your ass over the railing.”
Keep going, motherfucker. Give me a reason.
Trey chuckled. “But you’ve built up such a reputation lately, Demetrius. I bet everybody in Vegas knows who you are now.”
The door opened wider to reveal the man’s unimpressive wardrobe choices of a wifebeater, jeans, and a gold chain. His face matched the security camera images exactly. Either he had robbed Jessie Rae’s, or someone was using magic to look exactly like some random sonofabitch from Huntridge.
Trey nodded. “Yeah, you don’t know me, but I know you, and we’ve got to chat a little about your recent activities. I’m hoping it can be pleasant, but that’s on you.”
Demetrius sneered. “Oh, you’re that Brownstone bitch who’s been asking around about me.” He snorted. “I’ll give you credit. You managed to find me here, but you’re gonna regret that shit, bitch.”
“You can call me Trey Garfield,” Trey responded. “Neither my first, middle, nor last name is ‘Bitch.’”
“I ain’t got no bounty, bounty hunter.” Demetrius smirked. “If you come at me, you’re just a thug, and the police are gonna haul your ass off.”
“The police might want to talk to you too,” Trey replied. “And even if you don’t have a bounty, you robbed Jessie Rae’s, so you’re my problem and the big man’s problem.”
“Big man?”
“James Brownstone, motherfucker.” Trey offered Demetrius his own sneer and scratched his cheek. “We can do this a couple of ways. One way is you hand over any shit you still have from Jessie Rae’s, and I march you down to the police station, where you turn yourself in. The other way is you try some dumb shit and I beat your ass down, and then I drag you down to the police station anyway. You see, we’ve got you on the security camera, and I’m sure your dumb ass left fingerprints and DNA, too.”
Demetrius’ face twitched. “Bullshit. That’s impossible. You don’t have me on no security camera. You’re lying, bitch.”
Trey laughed. “What, you thought your little magic knife saved you? That’s the problem with playing with new toys without manuals. Don’t always understand them.” His smile vanished, and he glared at the other man. “Now, I’m gonna be honest. I’d love it if you chose option number two, because then I get to beat your ass down in self-defense, and I’ll help you understand why you don’t fuck with Jessie Rae’s. What’s it gonna be, Demetrius? Number one or number two?”
Demetrius looked Trey up and down before nodding. “Fine, fuck it. I don’t want no trouble. It ain’t worth it over some barbeque joint.” He shrugged. “Let me at least get my coat.”
Trey arched a brow. “You expect me to believe that shit? Turn around and put your hands on your head. I’m gonna cuff your ass, then we’re gonna walk down the stairs to the fine Expedition I have parked and drive you to the nearest fucking police station. I’m guessing Jessie Rae’s ain’t the only place you’ve robbed lately.”
They locked eyes, both barely taking a breath. The seconds ticked by, each waiting for the other’s move.
Demetrius spun on his heel and sprinted off. He hurdled over the couch and rushed into the bedroom.
“Thank you, Demetrius,” Trey murmured. “I almost thought you would give up and the fun would be over.”
As pissed as Trey was, he couldn’t bring himself to beat down a man who had willingly surrendered.
He didn’t follow the thief. He snorted and waited. If Demetrius were trying to flee, his only option would be to jump from the balcony outside his bedroom. The other bounty hunters were watching the balcony, and they were ready to stun Demetrius’ thieving ass.
The safest way out would be through one man—Trey—and the front door.
Come on, bitch. You don’t want to run. Show me how tough you are. Stand and fight. Give me a fucking excuse.
A few seconds later, Demetrius stepped out of his bedroom, a thin bone knife in his hand and a wide grin on his face.
“Now we’re talking.” Trey nodded. “Good, you didn’t try to run away. That makes this shit less annoying, and a lot more fun for me.”
Demetrius raised the knife. “You think you’re tough, bounty bitch? This shit is magic. You ain’t have no idea what you’re fucking with.”
“Yeah, because I ain’t ever seen any magic in my job?” Trey snorted. “Bitch, please. My girlfriend is a witch, and I work with a witch. I’ve taken down level fours. You think whatever weak-ass magic knife you’ve got is gonna scare me? I should beat your ass down for being a stupid motherfucker.”
The criminal pointed the knife and glared at Trey. “Fuck you. You’re dead, bitch.” He shouted a word in a language Trey didn’t understand.
Flames swirled around the tip of the knife, but the slow charge allowed Trey to leap to the side before the flames condensed into a bright fireball and blasted his way. The ball smashed into the railing behind him, punching through and splattering molten metal all over the place. A stray drop burned through Trey’s jacket before landing with a sizzle on the ground.
“Oh, hell no,” he shouted and hopped to his feet. “It’s bad enough you fuck with Jessie Rae’s, but now you’ve done fucked up my suit, Demetrius. You’ve gone and made this personal.”
Trey rushed into the apartment. Demetrius shouted the incantation again, but the bounty hunter smashed a gloved fist into his face while the weapon was still charging. The knife flew out of the criminal’s hand, and the flames vanished.
Demetrius grunted and flew backward. He crashed into his brown entertainment center, the wood splintering and his speakers smacking into the wall. His falling leg caught a power cord, yanking his TV off his wall. The flat panel fell and struck a hard corner of the entertainment center, impaling the device.
Trey snatched the knife off the floor and shook his head. “Damn. After you get out of jail, you’ll have to replace all that shit. So now you’re all beat up, and your shit’s messed up. Not your lucky day, Demetrius.”
The criminal groaned.
Trey held up the knife. “And a bonus. You see, I had some people I know check around once I heard you had a magic knife. I was wondering if one had gone missing, and damned if they quickly found out which one was missing. So, this is great because you’re going to jail, and even though there’s no bounty on you, I’m gonna score some cash from returning this knife.” He tapped the side of his head with the hilt of the weapon. “You’re such a petty piece of shit, Demetrius. You manage to get yourself something like this, and you’re using it to rob restaurants?”
Demetrius groaned and managed to stand. Blood trailed down the side of his head. “Fuck you. You don’t know nothing about me, Mr. Slick Suit. I do what I do because I need to survive,” he yelled and charged Trey.
The bounty hunter didn’t
bother to dodge, just slammed a fist into the criminal’s stomach. Demetrius’ eyes bulged, and he fell to the ground clutching his belly.
Trey snorted. “You’re lucky I’m holding back, and don’t feed me that excuses shit. We all make choices. You can sit there and cry about how society fucked you over or your mama or whoever else the fuck you want to cry about, but you’re the one choosing in the end. No one held a gun to your head and told you to rob a barbeque place.”
Demetrius moaned and rolled to his side, still clutching himself.
Trey shook his head. “I used to be a piece of shit too, and I ain’t got no good excuse. I had Nana telling me I was a piece of shit, but I ignored her. I realize all that now. I like to say that I needed a new opportunity, but I could have chosen not to be trash long before that. I didn’t need James Brownstone to save me, even though he did. That’s the real tragedy. I could have saved my own ass from the beginning.” He tossed the knife on the couch and knelt by the groaning Demetrius. “Let me deliver a few words from a wise man who died a long time ago and had more power than either of us will ever know. ‘You have power over your mind, not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.’”
“Fuck you,” Demetrius rasped. He spat in Trey’s face. “I’ll fucking gut you, bounty hunter. This shit ain’t over. You think you’re tough? You ain’t nothing.”
“Some people just have closed minds.” Trey sighed and shook his head.
“Problem?” rumbled a deep voice from behind Trey. “It’s taking a while. I thought you’d already have him in the Expedition, or the other guys would have gotten him.”
Trey turned around and grinned at James. “Sorry, I was trying to provide a free education to this dumb motherfucker, but he’s proving…stubborn.”
James looked around, his gaze focusing on the knife before drifting to the broken entertainment center and dented wall. He grunted and nodded. “I see.”
Demetrius’ eyes widened. “James Brownstone.”
Trey nodded. “Yeah. He was busy when I started looking for you. He ain’t busy now. He was waiting downstairs for us.” He shrugged. “I’ve got one question for you, Demetrius. The plaques and trophies you took from Jessie Rae’s. I know you didn’t move that shit yet. Where the fuck are they? If you don’t want to tell me, then you can have a chat with the big man. I have to let you know, he’s nowhere near as nice as me.”
“B-b-bedroom closet,” Demetrius stammered and swallowed. A dark stain appeared at his crotch.
“Yeah, you’re so tough.” Trey laughed and stood, shaking out his hands. “I’ll go get the shit, James. You keep an eye on King Pisser here. Maybe I should have one of the boys go buy him a diaper.”
James stomped to the fallen Demetrius, a feral grin on his face. “Go ahead and do something. Prove what a tough asshole you are.”
The thief’s eyes rolled up in the back of his head, and he passed out.
Trey snorted as he headed into the bedroom. “What a weak-ass bitch.”
He threw open the closet. A large black trash bag sat inside. Various trophies and plaques from Jessie Rae’s were in it, along with jewelry and some cash.
“Looks like our boy’s been busy,” Trey shouted to the living room. “Not just Jessie Rae’s. But I’ve got Mike’s stuff in here.”
“Good,” James replied, his voice low and filled with dangerous promise. “Too bad he didn’t put up more of a fight.”
Trey grabbed the loot bag and hauled it into the living room. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures of the urine-soaked and unconscious criminal. “Should get Heather to plaster this shit everywhere with some funny title.”
James chuckled. “Good idea.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Aiyn paced in front of her ocean-view window, her breathing shallow. A failure. A complete failure. Worse than that, the attacks had wounded Brownstone but hadn’t finished him, which meant his symbiont was stronger—and she’d lost two good attack methods that could harm the Forerunner. She’d made the monster stronger.
She moved over to her chaise lounge and sat down, sighing.
I should have won. If the magical spells hadn’t disrupted my initial connection to the nanoform, I could have directed it more effectively, and it wouldn’t have relied on the base programming. Or was it a mistake to use my limited communications to try to convince Carson of Brownstone’s danger? I thought she was being deceived, but I should have stuck to the initial plan where a mysterious local monster killed everyone and the Canadian government was none the wiser about my involvement.
Aiyn frowned. The easiest solution would have been to bomb the area, but that would have been difficult to justify to her superiors, given that they didn’t want her to attack Brownstone. As it was, careful auditing of her supply reports might reveal the depletion of her nanite stock and result in her recall.
For a moment, she considered purposely admitting to the attack. If they sent a replacement, maybe her superiors would be more inclined to consider the Forerunner threat real, but she couldn’t risk them delaying sending someone else. Brownstone might show his true nature at any time. It’d be too late by the time he summoned a Vanguard.
No, it fell to her to solve the problem.
Aiyn sighed. Losing the entire nanoform was a blow. It’d take her months to grow her nanite supply back, and any request for resupply would lead to her recall from Earth. They didn’t accept that James Brownstone was a Vax Forerunner.
No nanites, but I could confront him directly—although if I don’t kill him in one shot I’ll die, and it might initiate the invasion. I might not have months, not with the power he’s openly displaying.
She frowned. In her arrogance, she’d hoped to goad Shay Carson into leaving Brownstone in Alberta. Aiyn had been convinced he’d die at the hands of her nanoform. The plan had seemed perfect when she’d thought of it.
I was careful not to state what I was, but if he understood what attacked him, he knows he’s being hunted by something far more dangerous than a human. He might accelerate his timetable.
The last few days of government reports didn’t suggest any unusual activity she could associate with Brownstone. Her gambit might have failed, but it hadn’t initiated the next stage of the invasion. She still had time to save Earth.
She revisited the idea of trying to involve Earth authorities, given that Brownstone hadn’t reacted in the way she’d worried he would, but the dangerous Earth groups hunting aliens might care less about her warnings and more about capturing her and taking her technology. The Concealment Protocol had been born of dangerous failures by past Shepherds. Even if she didn’t mind giving her life to defeat the Vax, she didn’t want to give it mindlessly. Her recent failure had driven home that careful plans could amount to nothing when the enemy behaved outside the expected parameters.
Whatever she did next, she had to plan not only the operation but also how to protect Earth should she die. She couldn’t depend on the Alliance, even if they should know better.
There has to be another possibility. A better possibility.
Aiyn thought back to her conversation with Shay Carson. The tomb raider’s words suggested she understood Brownstone’s true nature. The Shepherd had never thought there could be a Vax collaborator, but the unique situation between Earth and Oriceran might have produced something unexpected.
I’m beginning to see the wisdom in Command not wanting me to confront him directly. Something’s wrong and different, even more than I realized. If I’m to defeat Brownstone before he summons the Vanguard, I need to understand his new tactics and why he’s spent so many years studying Earth.
Aiyn allowed herself a small smile. Even though her recent attempts at digging more into Shay Carson’s background had been thwarted by unexpected resistance, her previous efforts had recovered several useful pieces of information, including the fact the tomb raider lectured as a professor at UCLA. That little tidbit presented an opportunity. If she were cautiou
s, she could get close to Carson, and through her, Brownstone.
If a Vax Forerunner could be subtle, so could Aiyn.
“Time to study history,” she murmured.
James kept a light hold on Thomas’ leash as they headed down the sidewalk, Shay at his side. He smiled to himself as he looked around, enjoying the crisp-but-not-freezing air and the lack of anything even approaching snow. The last few days hadn’t even threatened rain. A pleasant but not too cool December.
I bet hell isn’t hot. I bet it’s cold. Real fucking cold.
“Alison’s return home is getting closer by the day,” Shay declared. “You haven’t said much about going anywhere. I didn’t want to pressure you, but you were the one who originally brought up the idea.”
He shook his head. “No fucking way. Sometimes the best way to spend the holidays is by sitting your ass at home. And home is LA. Snow is complicated. The last thing I want to do is make our holidays complicated.”
Shay shrugged. “Don’t have to go anywhere cold, you know.” She smirked.
“Not going anywhere.” James grunted.
Thomas barked.
Shay laughed. “Can’t blame you, although I have to admit, I actually do feel more relaxed despite all the shit that went down. I guess I really did need to get some of that out of my system.”
“Me, too. All the more reason to stay close to home.” James shrugged. “Did you know Alison’s afraid to bring a boyfriend home? She acts like I’m gonna kill them if they step into my house.”
“Can you blame her? Every time she even tries to hint at something, you act like you’re going to fly to the school and attempt a field goal with any boy who looks at her.” Shay rolled her eyes. “And you look smug and happy about it, too.”
James shrugged. “I think I’ve improved a little.”
Shay snorted. “Need a microscope to see that level of improvement. Just saying, if you want her to share all of her life with you, you need to cut down on the implied threats to other people she might care about. Okay?”
Vax Humana: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 13) Page 19