The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files Collector's Set: Books 1-10: Urban Fantasy Shifter Series

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The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files Collector's Set: Books 1-10: Urban Fantasy Shifter Series Page 26

by Craig Halloran


  “You are a faithful soldier, Agent Shaw,” Night Bird said, placing her hands behind her back, “but you should have listened to your friend.” She opened her mouth wide, and an ear-splitting shriek came out.

  Sidney’s stomach turned and her knees buckled. She hit the pavement and the world started spinning. In front of her, Night Bird rose up, still unleashing the hellish sound. Sid felt bile rise up in her mouth when the horrendous sound stopped. She spat it out.

  Ahead, Night Bird’s body convulsed and transformed. Muscle, sinew, and bone popped and crackled. Feathers sprouted out. The bird woman shuffled over and grabbed ahold of Smoke. The big man’s long limbs trembled. His gun lay inches from his fingers. Sid’s ears were ringing. She tried to find her own gun but couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her fingers. Ugh!

  Night Bird was a much bigger bird than she was a woman. She scooped Smoke up in her talons, spread her great wings, took flight, and disappeared into the night sky.

  Sidney’s mind cried out, “Nooooooooooooooo!”

  CHAPTER 30

  Head down, Sidney sat inside the Wayfarer’s Way restaurant, stirring her spoon in her chicken tortellini soup. It was midday, two days after Night Bird flew off with Smoke. Since the chopper crashed. Since good FBI agents died.

  I can’t believe he’s gone. I can’t believe they’re all gone.

  She glanced at the front page of the Washington Post on the table. The headline read:

  FBI AGENTS PERISH IN TRAGIC TRAINING INCIDENT.

  Conspiracies and accusations followed. The community was shocked. Television, Internet, and radio buzzed with theories about terrorist activities. Everyone had a theory. Everyone was wrong.

  How many other fabricated stories have I believed before?

  There had been plenty of incidents with loose ends she had previously taken at face value but had begun to reconsider. Pan Am’s Malaysia Flights. Seal Team Six. Was any of it true? Everything she read in the paper was a lie. What else was?

  She rubbed her temple with one hand and took a sip of soup with the other. It tasted funny. Not that she’d eaten much. Everything tasted funny since Night Bird’s screech. The jarring sound still echoed in her ears. She could still see Smoke’s body being hauled through the air like a carcass. It left her cold inside. She should have trusted him. She should have let him take Night Bird down. Now, he might be gone forever. I failed him.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. She felt as if something was eating her from the inside out. After the incident, it had taken her thirty minutes to get back on her feet. By the time that happened, help had come, sort of. Men and women covered from head to toe in hazmat-type attire administered aid and whisked the dead away in minutes. It was bizarre. Not of one of them spoke or identified themselves. Agent Ramsey did all of the talking while they patched up his bleeding arm. Sid was in a haze eyeing the sky. By the time they shook her out of it, everyone was gone. She was taken to a small hospital and released the day before with orders to stay away from headquarters and meet her boss at the Wayfarer. Finally he came.

  Ted Howard entered the restaurant, hung up his coat and hat, and took a seat across from her.

  “How are you doing, Sid?”

  She held up the paper. “It’s all a lie.”

  “Aw, come on. You know we can’t print what you and the other agents saw, especially when none of it can be verified.” A waitress approached with her honey brown hair up in a bun. “Coffee and the special,” Ted said.

  “Coming right up.”

  “I’m surprised you can eat,” Sidney added, pushing her soup away.

  “I’m not hungry, but I am a creature of habit. You know that.” He leaned forward with an uneasy look on his face. “Sid, you’re going to have to let this one go.”

  “What do you mean, let it go?”

  He swallowed, and his eyes drifted before they found hers again. “The Black Slate is shut down for now. At least until the smoke clears. Ah!” He shook his head. “Sorry, bad choice of words. Let me rephrase. Until the dust settles.”

  “What do you mean, Ted? I have to go after him. We have to go after him.”

  “You know bloody well that the Pentagon is all over this one. At least until the media moves on to something else.” He rolled his sleeves up, revealing his meaty forearms. “But there will be an investigation, and that will take weeks. Heck, months. This won’t go away for a long time.”

  “I have to find him, Ted. You know that. We can’t just forget about him.”

  “If he was an agent, sure, but he’s not.” He lifted his finger up. “And before you get mad at me, you know that my hands are tied on this one.”

  “Just because he isn’t an agent doesn’t mean he’s worth any less.”

  “Yeah, well they don’t see it that way. He’s a convict. Expendable.” He frowned. “That’s probably why they signed him up for this gig.”

  “And what about me? Am I expendable?”

  “You were his Bureau liaison, Sid. His handler, not his partner.” He nodded at the waitress, who dropped off a steaming cup of coffee. “I told you to use extraordinary caution, didn’t I? You jumped into the shark tank feet first. You have to back off of this.”

  “You know I can’t do that. I’m a vet. He’s a vet. You’re a vet. We don’t abandon one another, come hell or high water. He wouldn’t do that to me.”

  “Sid, your report says that a giant bird flew away with him.” He clenched his jaws. “I can’t believe you wrote that.”

  “That’s what happened, Ted!” She clenched her fists. She wanted to hit the table but restrained herself. “What if we can find him? When Dydeck was alive, he and Cyrus injected Smoke with a serum called the Glow.”

  “The Glow? I’ve never heard of it.”

  She wanted to reach across the table and slap him. All of his answers were too convenient. He had to know something. “Can you look into it?”

  “Sure. All right. Fine.”

  “I’m being serious, Ted.”

  “So am I. I promise.”

  She picked at her lip. That might take forever, and Smoke would be long gone or dead by then. She needed something now, but she had nothing. She didn’t even have a number for Fat Sam or Guppy. “What about Agent Ramsey? Why don’t you talk to him? Plenty of agents saw what happened.”

  “And plenty of agents want to keep their jobs,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry.” His food arrived, a loaded cheeseburger and fries.

  “So what am I supposed to do then, bury my head in the sand?”

  He squirted ketchup on his plate. “Be patient and see how things turn out.”

  “And what about John Smoke?”

  “I know you liked the guy. I liked him too. But given his background, you’re just going to have to pray his own survival skills get him out okay.” He took a bite of his burger. “Sometimes that’s all you can do.”

  “Pray?”

  He shrugged. “It works sometimes. I once had a friend—”

  “Ted,” she said, getting up from the booth. “Just check into the Glow. I’m going home … for now.”

  “Aw Sid, don’t go like this—”

  She made it out of the restaurant before he finished and headed for her car. I’m such a fool! She opened the Hellcat’s door, got behind the wheel, and fired the engine up. Perhaps a long drive through pigeons will help. Her phone buzzed. It read Unknown Caller on the screen. Fat Sam and Guppy?

  “Hello?”

  “Agent Shaw,” an unfamiliar voice said. “It’s time to go after Smoke.”

  CHAPTER 31

  “Who is this?” Sidney asked.

  “Mal. Mal Carlson,” the man replied. His voice was cool but serious. “And your first question should probably be, ‘Where is he?’”

  “Or, maybe it should be, ‘Where are you?’ assuming you are Mal Carlson.” She turned left on the next street. “Mister, I have no idea if you are
who you say you are.”

  “Well, you got the case with the bullets I assume?”

  True. He wouldn’t know that otherwise. “Yes.”

  “Do you have on the Zweite Haut suit I made you?”

  “Sweet heart?”

  “Zweite Haut is German for second skin,” he said with a testy tone. “I haven’t thought up a good name for it. It’s a trivial thing. Do you have it on?”

  “No.”

  The man sighed. “Oy. Well, tell me you do have it with you.”

  “Why, don’t you have another one?” Sid was a little irritated with all men right then.

  “As a matter of fact I do, Agent Shaw, but your comrade, Mister Smoke, is wearing it, and I’d like to have them both returned intact, but I need your help.”

  Well, at least I’m not the only one who gives a damn. “Let’s meet.”

  “There is no time for that, Agent Shaw. Within a day I’m certain they’ll… well, we’ll never see him again.”

  Half a dozen questions raced through her mind. How did he know where Smoke was? Why should she trust him? And who in the world was Mal Carlson? She pulled off to the side of the road. “I have the suit.”

  “And it’s in the case, I assume.”

  “No. It’s in the back seat of my car.”

  “You need to put it back on.”

  “I’m not putting it back on. It needs a wash,” she said, reaching into the back and sniffing it. There was a pause on the other side of the line, followed by a groan. “Are you still there, Mister Carlson?”

  “I’m here, but please don’t stop by the cleaners. That’s a quarter million dollar suit you’ve been wearing. And those bullets, a thousand dollars each. You still have those, don’t you? And the case?”

  “Let me guess, it’s worth a million?”

  “With the contents, yes, without them, well, look, it’s sentimental. Don’t lose it. Now, get dressed and ready to go.”

  “Go where? How do you even know where Smoke is? Nobody else does.”

  “The Glow,” he replied.

  She thought about Ted. Maybe he was moving faster than she thought. “How did you know about that?”

  “Because I’m the one who had it put in him—and we need to get moving before the signal is lost.” There was pecking on a keyboard. “I’m sending you directions.”

  Sid’s phone buzzed inside her palm. She checked the screen. “Got them. What is this place?”

  “A nineteenth-century bird sanctuary. It was an estate of an old English lord from the seventeen hundreds.” He coughed. “But I don’t have much history on it, just what was in the local papers that have been transferred to microfiche. It’s now owned by an eccentric group of philanthropists.”

  “Anything tying the property to Drake?”

  “Oh yes. The land is under a trust managed by Drake Property Enterprises.”

  Sidney pulled off the shoulder and headed down the road. The location was about 45 miles away, northwest of DC. “So Mal, now that I’ve seen deaders, werewolves, and now a harpy, do you care to fill me in on what is going on?”

  “All in due time.”

  “Now is the time!” She squeezed the wheel. “Come on, Mal—Mister Carlson, you need to give me a heads-up on what’s going on. I need something of substance. If I’m going to risk my neck, I’d like to know what in the heck for.”

  “In this case, you’re doing it for your friend,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Sid could hear his rustlings and peckings on a computer in the background. Morning glory! I don’t need this crap! “Just tell me more about the Black Slate and what I’m up against.”

  “I’d rather have you focus on the task at hand.”

  “Well, it’s a bit of a drive, and I think I’m just as ready as I was the last time.” Her car roared up the highway ramp and merged with traffic. “Just a nugget. Something meaningful.”

  “This enemy, the Drake—which is just a name—has been around a long, long time.”

  “Humor me. How long?”

  “We’re talking ancient times.”

  “Like, BC?” she said.

  “I can’t confirm it, but yes. There’s evidence of it all over the globe, but it’s never viewed in the proper light.”

  “Why don’t you just shed some illumination on it then?”

  He sighed. “All right. Just suppose that myths and legends aren’t a shadow of the truth but real. At least some of them. There’s a lot of silly stuff out there too, and you have to learn how to discern what should be ignored. Ahem. That said, these people, be it from fallen angels or demons, have always been among us, in one form or another, lending others their power. That’s what you’re dealing with here.”

  “Demons?”

  “More like the spawn of demons. I like to think of it as manifestations of evil. It takes all sorts of forms and develops all sorts of powers. The evil seed planted in the body makes for supernatural mutations of sorts.”

  It was hard to hear and believe, even though she had seen it for herself. This is too big a pill to swallow. I’d be choking on it if I hadn’t seen it for myself.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Agent Shaw. Even seeing is not believing. People see only what they want to see, and this enemy of which we speak, they thrive on our ignorance. Hence the world that crumbles all around you.”

  His words crept into her soul. “Can you tell me … why me, and why now, if this has been going on so long?”

  “For the most part, men and women have fought the good fight and kept it under control. But you don’t hear about these heroes in the history books. Very little is known about them at all. They’ve battled and driven the fiends into their dark holes, but there’s always meddling underneath the surface. Like snakes, they slither out and suck good people down.”

  Sounds like a bad fantasy series. “And what is your part in all of this?”

  “Oh, I guess it’s just my predestination to find these evil toads. Keep your phone handy, Agent Shaw. I’ll call you back in a few minutes. Remember, fight the good fight.”

  The line went dead.

  “Wait!”

  CHAPTER 32

  Thirty minutes later there was still no word from Mal Carlson.

  Great, great, great, great, great!

  Sidney followed the GPS directions and found herself traveling down a lonely stretch of roadway accompanied only by tall pines. She took the left split at the fork in the road. Dusk was settling, and the landscape was changing, revealing an assortment of trees of all shapes and sizes. There were stone markers along the road too, some bigger than cars and others the size of tires. An old split-rail fence linked them.

  Things became odd as the road winded. The trees changed. Thick roots seemed to burst through the ground like animated things. The heavy brush looked ominous and impenetrable. What had been a colorful forest by day was fast becoming a deadly and dreary one by night. The kind that campers disappear in. Colorful birds darted over the road from tree top to tree top. Some seemed unusually big. Their chirping was shrill and creepy.

  Bird sanctuary my butt.

  As she pulled on ahead, a pair of bright yellow eyes reflected her headlights. The four-legged creature bounded away along with the rest of the pack. Wolves. Big furry bodies disappeared like shades in the forest.

  Not again.

  She wanted to turn around. She didn’t belong here, but Smoke didn’t either. Finally she found herself passing underneath an old iron archway covered in vines and ivy. The lettering read Dummerville Bird Sanctuary. Half a mile ahead a lone manor stood against a backdrop of tall creepy oaks. Made from rough-hewn stone, the estate house, the size of a small resort, became bigger as she approached. Exotic cars and limos were parked all over the huge lawn, and a few people milled about at the front entrance. One man in a tuxedo was smoking with a woman in a fur coat. Each of them wore a bird mask that covered the eyes and nose.

  This must be the place.

  She parked the Hellc
at on the lawn, leaving some room away from the rest, and waited. Another car pulled up to where a valet waited. He took the couple’s keys, took the car, and parked beside her. The man lumbered out of the car in an old doorman’s uniform. His skin was clammy and pale. He glanced over at Sidney’s car. She let out a soft gasp and pressed against the seat.

  Deader! She closed her eyes, clutching her gun to her chest. Look away! Look away!

  The deader’s heavy footsteps crunched over the grass and back toward the estate.

  Sidney let out a soft sigh and grabbed the sweetheart suit. No back-up, Sid. No problem. Cramped inside her car, she slipped out of her clothes, slid the suit on, and redressed. Her body began to warm and energize. She picked up her gun and readied a second magazine. Glock is my back-up. She slid the knives Mal had sent to her and Smoke into her boots.

  Just as she started to exit her car, another one wheeled in beside her—a razor-blue Jaguar XE. Two men exited from the front, and two giggling ladies exited from the rear. All of them swayed a little. One of the men handed each of them a mask and said, “We can’t forget these ladies.”

  Sidney got out of her car and turned on the charm. She sauntered up to the man who had handed out the masks. She fingered his chest. “You wouldn’t have another one of those would you? I forgot mine, and my boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend maybe, got mad and went inside without me.”

  “He left a pretty thing like you out here all by yourself?” He hiccupped. “What a dick. Sure, I have another.” He popped open his trunk and gave her one that was black with feathers and silver sequins. He pointed to his face. “Find me later though. You owe me a favor.”

  One of the girls hooked her arm in his and said, “Come on Reggie. The only one owing you any favors is me.”

  “Sure sure, babe. Whatever you say,” he said, winking at Sidney from behind his mask. “Come on lady. Head on inside with us. It’s as cold as a snowman’s ass out here.”

  Feeling underdressed, Sid opened up her trunk and grabbed a coat her mother had gotten her for Christmas. Still in the box, the long winter coat was deep brown with fur trim around the neck. She put it on and said to the group, “Let’s go party.”

 

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