Samone fell over.
Bloodied but breathing, Smoke got up on his feet.
Rebecca Lang was holding his gun in her tiny hands. Cyrus Tweel was right beside her.
Wiping the blood out of his eyes, Smoke said, “Thanks.”
Fists on his hips, Cyrus said, “What the hell happened here, Smoke?”
A tremendous groan of metal on metal came from the building and stopped.
“Did you bring your brooms?” Smoke said.
“No, why?” Cyrus replied.
“Because it’s a mess.”
Suddenly, the entire building collapsed. The sunrise crept through the dust.
Smoke smiled through his busted lips and patted the dump truck’s tire. “Ah! I love the smell of destruction in the morning.”
***
Back at FBI headquarters, Cyrus fumed in his office. “You were just supposed to look and then notify me as soon as you found anything!”
Smoke sat in a chair across Cyrus’s desk. It was Section Chief Howard’s old office. Rebecca was in the chair beside him—legs crossed, foot kicking, eyes intent on him. He held a cold compress on his jaw. “I did.”
“You did after the fact.”
“I didn’t have a signal. I did call as soon as I was able. You didn’t pick up.”
Cyrus leaned forward on his elbows. “That’s beside the point. You shouldn’t have gone in there without first making contact.”
Smoke had already spent two hours writing everything down. Now, along with the rest of his body, his hand was sore. “You should be glad. I took down a big operation.”
“No, you wiped out some expensive assets of a rather big company.” Cyrus jammed his finger onto his desktop. “Lawsuit, lawsuit, lawsuit!”
“Is that all anyone cares about anymore, whether they’ll be sued or not? What about doing the right thing?”
Rebecca chimed in. “That’s too expensive.”
“Yeah,” Smoke added, “these days, it seems doing the wrong thing pays better.” He switched the cold compress from one side of his face to the other. “Can I go now?”
“No.” Cyrus was reading Smoke’s report. “A shifter who looks like Sid, really? I think you’re longing too much.”
“You saw her. Little Miss Prissy over here shot her. Or it.” He eyed Rebecca. “For which I am grateful.”
Rebecca showed the faintest smile.
“Look, Smoke.” Cyrus gave him a grim smile and shook his head. “You aren’t my kind of guy. To me, you’re nothing but trouble. I have to admit, though, what you pulled off today, well, they don’t do it that good in the movies. I’m starting to get a better idea what we’re up against. It’s sinister. Disturbing. I can’t deny it any longer.”
“What did you think it was, a bunch of clishmaclaver?”
“What?” Cyrus bunched up his eyebrows. “Never mind. I want to help. Let’s keep working together.” He reached inside his desk drawer and pulled out a ring box. He tossed it to Smoke. “I believe that belongs to you.”
It was Sid’s engagement ring. Smoke didn’t ask any questions, just got up and left.
CHAPTER 23
Smoke was home lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He still wore the sweetheart suit, as it had some moderate healing effects. He felt like it was the only thing holding him together. He’d been on the wrong side of too many beatings. He’d survived, but for some reason it felt like he had lost. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. He drifted off to sleep again.
When he woke the next time, he crawled out of bed, groaning and stretching. Barefoot on the wooden floor, he took a seat at his computer. There was a leather notebook on the desk, the one he’d taken from The Drake. One of those strange clerics had dropped it in the scuffle. Smoke hadn’t told Cyrus and Rebecca about it.
Maybe I’ll let them know later.
Slowly, he leafed through the pages. There were some places and dates. Phone numbers and names. There were chemical formulas. Strange languages. Hieroglyphics and arcane signs. He searched some of the addresses, then leaned back in his chair.
“Huh.”
The addresses were people’s workplaces and homes. He wasn’t sure, but it was possible these were names of Drake members. There were a lot of them.
This is the kind of lead I like.
A phone rang. It was his own house phone that hung on the wall. Only Sam and Guppy ever called that number. He pushed himself over the concrete floor into the kitchenette and picked up the receiver. “Smoke.”
“Hi John. It’s Sid.”
It was her. The very fiber of his being told him so. Her voice was strong with some softness behind it. Unlike with Samone, where something had been a little off from the start, his instincts told him this was genuinely her.
“How are you?” he said.
“You don’t need to worry about me, John, but I’m worried about you. We need to talk.”
“We are talking.”
“In person. Let’s meet,” she said.
As much as he wanted to see her, a little stubbornness surfaced. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he said, “You know where I am.”
“I have another place in mind. Midnight. Federal Express Stadium.”
“I’ll have to check my schedule.”
There was a pause on Sid’s end of the line. After a brief delay, she said, “This is serious, John. Midnight.”
Nighttime. Whoever was pulling Sid’s strings at The Drake probably didn’t care for the light. That was how the shifters were. They preferred darkness over daylight. Not that light stopped them most of the time. Still, it did seem to Smoke nighttime was when they were at their best.
“How about noon tomorrow?”
“John, if you want to see me, then don’t screw around. You’ve screwed enough up already. I hope to see you at midnight. And John, be sure you come alone.”
Click.
The line went dead.
Fighting the urge to hit *69 and call her back, he hung up the receiver and focused on her words.
You’ve screwed enough up already.
There was a message in there. A compliment. A praise. He had to believe Sid was still Sid, but he wouldn’t know until he saw her for himself. He stripped off the sweetheart suit and headed for the shower. Afterward, he stood facing the mirror, combing his fingers through his hair. “I think it’s time for a haircut.”
CHAPTER 24
At 11 p.m., Smoke cruised into the Federal Express Stadium parking lot. Engine still running, he made himself comfortable and rifled through his cassette tape collection. It had come in an old vinyl case with twenty slots in it. A nice mix for only five dollars. He ejected one cassette and put in another. It was a band called Slade. “Run Runaway” played. He cranked it up, closed his eyes, and eased the seat back.
Smoke was the only one who knew about this meeting. He hadn’t even told Sam or Guppy. The more Cyrus and Rebecca were in the dark, the better. No, it was just him and the unknown. Was he going to be reunited with Sid once and for all? It didn’t sound like it. Something was up, but at least he’d get to see her again. He hoped.
When he tilted the seat back a little farther, his breathing eased and he closed his eyes. All the throbbing in his bones and muscles dulled. He fell asleep.
Peck. Peck. Peck.
Smoke opened his eyes. Someone was standing outside his car, knocking steadily on his window. It was Reginald. Smoke leaned up in his seat and popped the door open. There was a black limousine parked nearby. Two men in pea coats stood outside it.
Reginald stepped aside. “You must be awfully tired, Mister Smoke.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Death will give you plenty of rest.” Reginald was nicely dressed in a grey oxford shirt, brown woolen slacks, and no tie.
“It will do the same for you.” Eyeing his surroundings, he said, “Where’s Sid?”
“Close enough. I need to pat you down. Up against the car, if you will?”
Smoke turned and put his hands on
the roof. “I didn’t think you guys had anything to fear from the likes of a mortal like me.”
Patting Smoke down, Reginald said, “We survive because we are cautious, and I must admit you’ve proven yourself a very formidable person. You put a real whooping on Guermo. As I understand it, Vormus departed with his tail between his legs. Of course, that brood is quite a bunch of cowards.” He huffed and finished patting Smoke down. “Vampires. How juvenile. But thanks to your encounter, you will get the meeting you were promised.”
Turning to face Reginald, Smoke said, “I’m sure that isn’t it. I’m thinking last night’s excursion had more to do with it.”
“Yes, that didn’t go over very well at all. If it weren’t for your lady friend, you’d be dead. If it happens again, well, just imagine the worst repercussions ever. Then multiply them.” Reginald walked over to the limo and placed his hand on the door handle. “And don’t get all excited. This isn’t a conjugal visit.”
“We aren’t married yet.”
“It’s not a prom date, either.” Reginald opened the door, saying under his breath, “Mind that tongue of yours.”
Smoke ducked inside the limo, and the door closed behind him. Adjacent to him sat Sid, looking more beautiful than ever. She wore a long dark-purple dress and was laden with bright jewels like a priestess. Beside her sat a deeply tanned and strongly built man in a tuxedo. His dark hair was slicked back. His big fingers were half decorated in Superbowl-like rings. His voice was a rumbling thunder.
“I’m Kane. Kane Lancaster.”
Smoke’s gaze didn’t leave Sidney’s expressionless face. “Hi, Sid.”
She nodded.
“Mister Smoke,” Kane said, twisting a ring on his finger, “before we begin our discussion, I need to make you aware of a few things. First, you are here and alive because I allow you to be. I can say the same about anybody. That’s the kind of power I have. Second, you do not speak unless I speak to you first or give you permission to speak. Understand?”
“I don’t need an interpreter.”
“Good. It seems that you and Sid are a bit unique. You have a talent for surviving. I like mortals with your kind of, oh, how did that one Texan put it? Eh, grit. So much so, that it got my attention. Even Reginald, one of my finest soldiers, was impressed. That is not easily done. In The Drake family, we want the best. It’s useful to us, and a veteran of your skills and aptitude could be rewarded quite well. No more fighting for your life or getting beat up tussle after tussle. Just cruise along and enjoy life. Basically you can have anything you want. What do you think about that?”
Smoke’s eyes slid over to Sid. She sat quiet as a church mouse. He looked Kane back in the eye. “I’m not interested.”
Kane placed his hand on Sid’s thigh. “Then we have a problem, Mister Smoke. You see, your little jaunt last night cost The Drake millions of dollars. You need to pay that back. Every penny. My accountants are rounding up the damage totals as we speak. How do you propose to pay me back?”
“I’m not.”
Rubbing Sid’s thigh, Kane said, “Oh, that’s where you are sadly mistaken. You are in debt for dollars. Real dollars. My dollars. And your wretched little life is not enough to pay your debt. No, you need to consider everyone you know as collateral. Your friends Samantha and Guppy. This precious gem of a woman, Sid. Her sister and niece. Her parents, Sally and Keith. Charming people. They all have skin in the game, but much more skin is needed after you destroyed all that merchandise last night. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Sid blurted out, “John—”
Whap!
Kane back-handed her hard across the face. “Do not speak.”
“Don’t you ever touch her again!” Smoke jumped him.
Faster than Smoke could see, Kane had him pinned back against the seat with fingers around his throat. Smoke started to choke in the man’s unbreakable grip.
“Listen to me, you worm. I’m granting you an opportunity. It’s mercy. But even with my long life, my patience can wear thin.” Kane’s black eyes were smoldering cauldrons of evil. “I can have everyone you care about killed before you fire up that heap you call a car. Do we understand each other?”
Kane’s freakish power was too much for Smoke. Face turning purple, he managed to nod.
Kane released him. “You are way out of your depth and treading deadly waters. You need to back off.” He turned his attention to Sid. With a handkerchief from his pocket, he tenderly wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. “Be more careful when you speak, my dear. You know how precious you are to me.”
Smoke started coughing.
Kane gave him a fatherly pat on the back. “You’re going to be fine. Tell you what, I’m willing to make you another deal. Let’s call a truce, because I’m curious to see whether or not you can handle your own temptations. You back off. Stay out of The Drake’s affairs. No Black Slate. No curiosity. No investigations. Cold turkey. So long as you can manage that, I’ll let bygones be bygones.”
Smoke sat up in his seat, rubbing his throat and coughing. “Only if Sid comes with me.”
“Oh ho, no. I’m doing this as a favor to Sid. She’s the only reason you’re even breathing right now. Don’t you get it? Now, I’m sure you love her, and I can’t fault you for that, but now you see, she favors another. You need to move on, my good man.”
Smoke’s eyes searched for Sid’s.
Sid’s eyes searched for Kane’s.
Kane gave her a nod. “I’ll give you two a few minutes.”
Her eyes widened.
“Go on. Leave,” Kane said.
CHAPTER 25
Sid knocked on her window, and the limousine door opened. One of Kane’s guards on the outside looked to Kane, who nodded. The guard stepped back. She got out and started walking. Smoke followed after her. She kept going until she was out of earshot of the limousine, even to Smoke. The guards and Reginald were far enough away to give them some privacy.
A brisk wind blew her hair in her eyes, and Smoke reached to move it away.
“No,” she said, moving it herself.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
“Sid, you can’t give in to the likes of them.” Unable to fight the urge to crush her in his arms, he eased forward.
She looked over to where Kane could still see them and backed away. “John, no. Listen, you have to move on. It’s too dangerous, and you’re really pissing them off.”
“Heh-heh.”
“It’s no laughing matter, John. The Lancasters might be different, but they love money as much as anyone else. Money and power. It’s an obsession. You need to back off. Move on. I’m sorry, John, but that’s just the way it has to be.” She closed her hands over his. “Think of my family, John. Your friends. They’ll all get killed unless you move on.”
Her warm hands stirred his heart. “You’re killing me, Sid.”
“You’re killing yourself. I don’t want anything to happen to you or anyone else. Move on to something else. There’s still plenty of good people out there for you to rescue.”
“Can’t you see what they’re doing, Sid? Fear. Threats. That’s how they control people and make them prisoners. You can’t let them do that to you.”
She squeezed his hands harder. “I have no choice.”
“You’re being forced to do this. That’s not living. That’s imprisonment.” He touched her cheek. “Are they hurting you?”
“No. John, you have to let me go. It’s too dangerous for everybody. I just can’t live with that.”
“You can’t save everybody, Sid. Sometimes, only people can save themselves. Have faith in them. Make that choice.”
“I almost watched you die once, John. I don’t want to ever see that happen.”
“It’s because you love me, isn’t it?”
She looked up and nodded. Tears swelled in her eyes.
“Then fight to be with me, Sid. We
can get through this. Together, we can get through anything.”
The limo pulled up near them, and the window rolled down. Kane said in a firm voice, “Sid, come. Mister Smoke, do you have an answer for me?”
“John, take the truce with him. Please.”
He looked down into her pleading eyes and nodded. “Fine.”
“What’s that?” said Kane.
Clenching his jaw, Smoke glared at him. “I said fine.”
“Well done. Now Sid, don’t make me ask you again. Come.”
Sid kissed Smoke on the cheek and slipped away, saying, “I’m sorry, John. Take care of yourself.”
The limo door opened, and she vanished inside.
Reginald waved at Smoke. “Goodbye, asshole.”
Moments later, the black machine sped away.
Smoke stood alone in the parking lot accompanied only by the whistling wind and the engagement ring in his pocket. Numb from his toes to his sagging shoulders, he headed toward his Camaro. All of its tires were flat.
CHAPTER 26
A day passed. Then a week. A month. Smoke hadn’t left his place. Always stocked up, he wouldn’t need to leave for another six months, unless he got a hankering for fresh food. He didn’t answer his phone either. Or texts. Or turn the TV on. He sat on his sofa chewing on beef jerky and drinking a Coke. There was an assortment of books stacked up on the coffee table, everything from The Darkslayer to The Bible. Copies of Nightfall DC. A few biographies. Some old history books Mal Gunderson had lent him. Aside from reading all the time and eating very little, he cleaned. Tinkered with his car. Replaced the slashed tires.
Early in the evening, he stretched out his arms and yawned. Rubbed his eyes. Considered crawling into bed. Sleep was hard to come by. He normally rested easy, like a baby. Now, something was chewing him up inside. Tired of the silence, he picked up the remote and turned on his stereo. Mozart played. He grabbed another piece of jerky and started chewing.
On the corner of the table sat the ring box. He thought of Sid, the danger she was in. The company she chose to keep. She had given up her life for his. For the lives of many others. But it was supposed to be the other way around. He was supposed to save her. It gnawed at him. She was suffering for his sake. Wasn’t she?
The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 6 thru 10 (Smoke Special Edition Book 2) Page 9