The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 6 thru 10 (Smoke Special Edition Book 2)

by Craig Halloran

  Guppy plopped down in a chair next to Rich and Sherry, who sat like mutes in their seats. He pointed at them with his thumb, over his shoulder. “What’s their deal? Do we need to shoot them?”

  “No, they can be helpful,” Manson responded.

  With Allison thrown over his shoulder, Cort said, “Can I put Tiger Lady down now? She’s crying all over my back.”

  Sid nodded. “What else is out there, Manson? I need a count of shifters and deaders.”

  The big screens panned through image after image. Lots of redcoat bodies spasmed on the floors. Several others were moving aimlessly about the complex. Aside from the burning van, the outside parking lot was void of activity. At the dock, the yacht was sinking. “I’m ninety percent certain that you’ve eliminated all threats.” Manson pointed at tiles of betting odds on the screens. Sid, Guppy, and Cort had all beaten the odds stacked against them. “Looks like some rich people lost a ton of money today. I love it when that happens, even though it won’t make any difference. Now that Kane’s off the grid, they’re logging out.” His fingers were still very busy. “I’m trying to trace them, but it’s not easy.”

  Sid checked her ammo. She had half a magazine left. “Cort, Guppy, load up everything you have. We’re going down.”

  Guppy could barely make it out of his chair. “Coming.”

  “I don’t know what’s down there, but I could use a hand up here,” Manson said. “My fingers only work so fast, and I need to find these links before they vanish.”

  “Guppy, stay,” she said.

  His brow puckered.

  “It’ll be fine.”

  “Here then.” He handed over a gun and his cylinder of vitamins. “Come back, Sid. All of you.”

  “We’re going to be pretty short-handed.” Cort was eyeing the empty holes in the cylinder of his Big Alaskan wheel gun. “I’m down one arm as it is. And starving.”

  “Anyway, one of my hands is worth more than ten of yours,” said someone standing in the doorway.

  “Vormus!” Sid exclaimed.

  The long-haired, cotton-headed vampire shifter tipped his chin. He was dressed in a grey tuxedo from the eighteenth century.

  “I see you’re overdressed for the occasion once again.”

  “I pride myself in looking my best no matter the circumstances. It’s nice to see you, Sid.” He twirled a sword in his hand. It was the Arabian blade that Smoke used. “We need to get to your husband before it’s too late.”

  Sid headed for the door. “What’s happening?”

  “Kane’s preparing him for the Kiss of Khonshu. If that happens, it’s over for him. Probably us too. Well, you and your friends at least.”

  “Are we really supposed to believe that an Egyptian god is the one running the show?” she asked Vormus. “Someone or something thousands of years old?”

  “I’m seeking out some of those answers for myself. Remember, Sid, I’m with you because I want out. If there’s a way for me to become mortal again, then perhaps I can finally find the answers I seek.”

  The three of them moved swiftly through the halls. Turning a corner, they ran into a pair of redcoat deaders. Without breaking stride, Vormus slipped the sword into their hearts and walked right by their collapsing bodies.

  Stepping over the dead bodies, Cort said, “That was quick. I’m going to get me one of those swords.”

  Sid pressed Vormus. She needed more answers about what was going on. Frank had filled her in, but that was only one layer of many. Even though she was grateful that Manson and Vormus had shown up to help her, the timing was very suspicious.

  “Why now, Vormus?” she asked. “You’ve been gone all this time, and here you are? You could have been helping us all along.”

  “The truth is I’ve been on the fence whether or not to help you. Aiding you in the defeat of Kane could result in my own death. Honestly, I didn’t think you would make it this far without me. For some reason I can’t explain, you inspire me.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” Sid glanced over to Cort. Behind Vormus’s back, she mouthed the words, “Watch him.”

  Cort gave a stiff nod.

  One thought puzzled her. How did Vormus know where they were and what they were doing? It only made sense he’d be working with Kane. Perhaps leading them into another trap. Logically, she knew she couldn’t trust him, but his actions showed otherwise.

  They came to a stop at a much older door that didn’t match up with the rest. The handles were made from solid hammered brass. The keyhole was huge. It was unlocked. “What’s down there?”

  “Answers.” Vormus opened the door. A gust of stagnant air ruffled his hair. “Ladies first.”

  Sid grabbed him by his fancy collar and shoved Vormus through. She held Cort back for a moment. She took a super vitamin and placed it between her cheek and gum. Cort did the same. The doors led down concrete steps.

  “Whew! There’s something rotten down here,” Cort said, covering his nose.

  The stairwell was pitch-black aside from the yellow glow far down below. The steps were many, holding a straight line instead of switching back and forth like most stairwells. Sid’s fingers grazed the wall. The surface wasn’t smooth, but rough, and slightly damp. Vormus’s graceful body blocked the light on and off.

  When they got to the bottom, it wasn’t at all what Sid expected. There wasn’t a basement. Instead, caverns and hollowed-out tunnels ran as far as she could see. Gas lanterns were mounted on the walls with light flames that quavered. It was something like the labyrinth below Mason Crowe’s frontier mansion, but not as deep. She was thankful for that.

  “What is this, the Bat Cave?” Cort looked at the ground. The floor was wet and grimy. “What’s with all these footprints?”

  “I think those deaders were stored down here. I don’t see any now. Nor do I hear them.”

  Cort bent down and picked up the butt of a cigarette. “Deaders smoke? There’s a bunch of butts down here.” Something else caught his eye. “Look at that.” He picked up a leather pouch. The tie string broke off when he opened the neck. He poured some old coins into his hand, silver and gold. “Jackpot.”

  “Come on. We need to find Smoke,” Sid said.

  The cavern spread out in all directions. There were cave openings and huge stone blocks almost as big as her that might have been from an old fort long ago. In columns and walls, the stones supported the building above. The gas lanterns, to her surprise, were lit up as far as her eyes could see. “Stay together.”

  Vormus walked ahead as if he’d been there before. There was an air about him.

  “I’ll lead,” Sid said, moving alongside of him. She held her Glock at chin level in a routine tactical position.

  Water dripped from the ceiling. The drops echoed when they hit the puddles. Cort’s breathing was heavy. Vormus didn’t seem to breathe at all. She moved slowly while keeping her head on a swivel. There had to be more deaders or shifters lurking somewhere. “This doesn’t feel right. It’s too quiet,” she said under her breath. “Vormus, do you hear or see anything?”

  “Yes.” He looked upward.

  Sid did the same. The ceiling was over thirty feet high. Heavy beams of wood from the building’s foundation linked together with the stone bases. Something crawled along the beams. It was the shape of a man who moved like a beetle. A dark bulk with arms and legs. Sid’s bones chilled. There was more than one. She tapped Cort’s shoulder.

  He looked up.

  Something hideous dropped down.

  CHAPTER 36

  “Welcome to the Khonshu’s tribute,” Kane said to Smoke.

  They were inside a chamber with walls made from big blocks of sandstone. Smoke sat slumped over on the ground, trying to gain his strength. Illuminated by the gas lanterns, Smoke could make out hieroglyphics along the wall. They were lit up and pulsating with their own ambient light that shifted into many colors.

  There was a nine-foot-high pyramid made of glass with sparkles that twinkled like
stars. A chair was built in, giving it the appearance of a throne. Heavy black cords thicker than the hugest black snakes ran from the pyramid-throne and across the floor. The black cords hooked into a man-shaped sarcophagus that stood up in the floor across from it. The cords rippled and bowed like living things.

  “What is this?” Smoke could barely hold his head up. There were other objects in the chamber too. Ancient tables covered in pottery, and small statues of men with animal heads. The moon in its various cycles hung on the walls. Painted figurines faced it in worship. It was all ancient but had the low hum of churning technology. “A museum. How much are you going to charge for admission?”

  “That might be your best joke yet. Definitely your last.” Kane grabbed Smoke by the arm.

  Smoke couldn’t break the steely grip. He couldn’t do anything. It was hard to even think.

  Kill Kane.

  Kane shoved him inside the sarcophagus. Living black cords fastened around Smoke’s neck, wrists, and ankles. “There won’t be any getting out of that until it’s all over.” Kane retrieved an ornamental pewter helmet made for an Egyptian warrior. He placed it on Smoke’s head. Looking Smoke in the eye, he said, “Smile. It’s a great honor to receive the Kiss of Khonshu.”

  Smoke strained against his bonds, trying to head-butt Kane’s ugly face. Spitting, he said, “Save your kisses for the grave, Kane.”

  Kane threw his head back in laughter. “If only you wouldn’t lose your sense of humor with this. It would be delightful at my parties. They are often dull. No, John, the kiss is a ceremonial name for it. You see, since you’ve been so reluctant to receive the gift of shifting that I’ve given you, I’m going to have to take a greater course of action.”

  Smoke heard and felt something attach to the helmet that he wore. It hummed. Every hair on his body stood on end. Fire ran down his spine. He choked down a scream as laser-thin needles pierced his skull. Whatever was happening was straight out of a horror movie.

  “Don’t worry, John, you won’t get used to it.” Kane moved across from him and sat down on the pyramid seat. He fit it like a king. Chair arms silently slid out of the black pyramid. Kane pressed on the glowing buttons that had tiny images on each. “It’s been a long time since I had to do this. It’s a sad thing, as the experience is rather delightful. You see, John, I’m not the man the others know to be Kane. I’m actually Khonshu.”

  Kane pushed the arms back inside the pyramid.

  “Well, let me correct that. I’m the essence of Khonshu. You see, centuries ago, the Drake came across the hidden pyramids in Venezuela. I was one of those explorers at the time. Not much of anybody, just a man with a weak frame, strong mind, and fathomless ambition.”

  The pain coursing through Smoke’s body was so great that he could barely hear Kane’s words. He focused, searching for a nugget that would aid in his freedom. Part of him was ashamed that he’d come this far, only to be locked up like a child. He’d become helpless.

  Don’t give in, Smoke. Don’t give in.

  “Faced with ancient technology that turned our frail minds inside out,” Kane continued, “many walked away. Others focused on the treasure within. The pottery, jewelry, precious baubles. Anything that they could get their greedy little hands on. They were all about money, but that was meaningless to me. I wanted power. Outlasting my fellow scholars, I spent time in the ancient tomb, scouring over every crease in the floors and walls. That’s when I came across Khonshu’s hidden tomb. This pyramid was in there. The sarcophagus too. The odd thing was that it stood empty. No mummy. I’d seen plenty of graves in my day, but never an empty one. It was beyond puzzling.

  “This pyramid looked like nothing but a glassy piece of onyx. Smooth as a sheet of ice. It offered no answers, only more mystery. But when I touched it, I knew it lived. Something powerful lurked within. That’s when I found myself in a situation very much like the one you are in. Under a strange compulsion, I placed that helmet on my head. Then, when I began inspecting the inside of the sarcophagus, those black tendrils seized me. Those needles you feel, they dug into my head, too. I screamed so loud that it waked the dead. I saw a ghost. The spirit of Khonshu. At first I thought it was a ghost. Turns out that it was a projection. He spoke to me in Egyptian. I understood every word. The pyramid transferred great knowledge into my mind. My body transfigured into something far greater. I was no longer a man, I was a god.”

  He rubbed his hands together.

  “This throne is rife with scientific and worldly knowledge. Like the sun, the moon has power and purpose. It controls the tide, does it not? Its radiant light does more than shine, it reflects a dark energy. Only few can tap it. That’s why on a night like tonight, the likes of me, and you, are at full power. With this power, I learned how to reanimate the dead. Clone the living. I learned to change the DNA of men into that of shifters. It presented endless opportunities, but it took much time to master it. It took time, money, and willing participants.

  “My colleagues were highly objectionable when I revealed my discovery and my plans. So, I killed them all. That innocent blood sealed my fate. I and the essence of Khonshu have been one ever since.”

  Smoke’s chin was down in his chest. His head felt like it weighed a ton. He was panting. Underneath his fur was sweat. “What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m altering your internal programming. Those needles in your head, they know where your memories lie. I’m going to take them away and unleash your more carnal ambitions. When I turn you loose again, you’ll shred the first blood-beating heart that comes within a hundred feet of you. Only then will your memories be restored. You’ll recognize the shame of what you’ve done, and you’ll be mine forever. John Smoke, prepare to become a permanent member of the Drake.”

  A clear piece of tubing with a needle on it wormed out of the pyramid. Kane stuck it in his arm. Blood flowed back into the pyramid. That was when Smoke noticed that same clear tubing lying on the floor among the black coils. The dark blood snaked its way into the coffin. Smoke prayed. Smoke screamed.

  CHAPTER 37

  Cort shot through the creature that fell from the ceiling. It hit the ground like a rock. It had the tiny face of a man and the body of a black beetle. “Ew! What kind of sick thing is that? It’s a ladybug man! I hate ladybugs!” He started shooting at every creature that fell.

  The beetle men landed on their oddly shaped hands and legs. With bullets ricocheting off their shells, they scurried right at each of them.

  Sid shot one beetle man in the face, stopping it cold.

  Cort hollered at Sid, “Get this thing off me!” He pranced like a girl as he flailed wildly with a Rottweiler-sized beetle man latched on his back. With a face full of tiny sharp teeth, it bit into Cort’s neck. “Aaaaah! I’m going to turn into a ladybug!”

  Using his sword, Vormus flicked it off Cort’s back, where it splattered against a wall. “They are virtually harmless unless you’re absolutely stupid. Just stab them or shoot them in the head.” Vormus stabbed a beetle man that was crawling at his feet. “See? Easy. Besides, I think we’ve killed all of them. And it seems we have much bigger problems.”

  Rubbing his bloodied neck, Cort said, “Please tell me it’s not some giant beetle thing. If it is, I’m leaving.”

  “No, just a giant.” Vormus pointed his sword toward the deeper bowels of the cave.

  Deep in the cavern, a humongous man came their way. He was dressed in a full Civil War army uniform. The rebel giant was full bearded and broad chested, with thick arms and hands bigger than hams. He was the biggest giant Sid had seen. Bigger even than Rexor and Thorgrim. The black-eyed man made the cavern look like a playpen.

  “He’s not stopping,” she said.

  “No, I’m fairly certain he’s here to kill us. One can only hope this is the final guardian,” Vormus said.

  “Man, Vormus,” Cort said, “he’s wearing clothes that are even older than yours.” He lifted up his weapon. “I guess it’s time to start shooting.” The
first bullet Cort fired exploded on the giant’s chest.

  The rebel brute didn’t even break his stride. Even his uniform remained intact.

  “Dang! I’ve got to get the name of his tailor!”

  Sid fired. The blue tips from Guppy’s magazine pierced the giant’s uniform, but they had as much of an effect as a bee stinging a bear. As the giant bore down on her, she said, “Aim for the face!”

  “I am!”

  Bullets explosive and piercing dotted the giant’s face.

  The huge man didn’t even cover up. Like a slow-moving locomotive, he came on.

  Within seconds, Sid’s gun stopped popping and started clicking. She moved away from the giant. “I’m empty! Cort, toss me some rounds.”

  “I can’t. I’m empty too!”

  Sid drew her knife. Cort did the same.

  Brandishing the sword, Vormus stepped in front of them. “That’s not going to do. Oh, how I hate these menial tasks.” He floated upward and glided sword-first toward the giant’s chest. He ran the blade straight into its heart. He twisted the steel. “That ought to do it. Oh look, it has a nametag. Stonewall. Goodbye, Stonewall.”

  Stonewall’s knotty arms caught Vormus in a fierce bear hug. His giant fists smashed into Vormus’s face over and over again. The giant didn’t let up. The sword slipped from Vormus’s fingers. His body went limp. Stonewall hoisted Vormus high over his head. He slammed Vormus to the ground. The shifter didn’t move. Stonewall’s pitch-black eyes locked on Sid.

  Looking over at Cort, she bit into her vitamin. “This is it.”

  Chewing on his vitamin, he rolled his shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

  Flanking the giant at the same time, they converged. Sid worked at one flailing fist, and Cort did the other. Quick as cats, they shredded the giant’s tendons at the fingers.

  The monster didn’t slow. He just kept swinging stiff blows filled with power. A quick counter-backhand aimed at Cort sent him flying from his feet. The giant pounced at the man.