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

by Craig Halloran

  The two deaders turned around and ran right for her. Charged with adrenaline, Sidney lowered the spear and ran the first one through. Glitch! She ripped it out, looking for the rat. “Where are you, little vermin?” She jabbed at a rat scurrying over the floor. “Not sure which I hate worse. Rats or deaders.”

  “Sid!” Smoke yelled. “Sid!”

  She spun around.

  Smoke—swinging two handed—was clubbing away for his life against a deader that towered over him swinging a machete like a butter knife.

  She jammed the spear into its back. She missed the heart.

  It twisted, breaking the spear shaft off in her hands and backhanding her in the face.

  She landed hard on her ass. “Ooph!”

  Smoke renewed his assault, hammering it in the face. “Can’t hit what you can’t see!” Whack! Whack! Whack!”

  With a spear poking out of its chest, the deader chopped back. The blade slit Smoke’s abdomen, doubling him over. The machete went up. Smoke’s decapitation was soon to follow.

  “No!” Sidney screamed. Her long legs churned. She slammed into the back of the deader’s legs and knocked it from its feet. Wump! It tried to split her in half. She rolled away.

  Smoke sprang like a panther and locked up its arms and neck. “Kill it!”

  “With what?”

  “The spear,” he said. The veins in his neck bulged like purple roots. “Hurry. I can’t hold it much longer!”

  She crawled over, grabbed the gory spear in her hands, jerked it from the deader’s chest, flipped it around, and plunged it into its heart.

  Its long legs shivered and went still.

  “That was gross,” Sid said.

  Smoke shoved the deader aside and said nothing, wincing and clutching his belly.

  “Are you all right?” she said.

  He fingered the clean slice in his clothes, revealing the black second skin underneath. “I can’t believe my guts are still in me.”

  “Me either,” she said, scooting closer. “You almost lost your head too, you know.” She winced and glanced at her throbbing hand. Her pinky finger was out of joint. Her stomach turned sick.

  “That looks nasty,” Smoke said. “Let me take a look.”

  “No.”

  He made his way toward her and said it again. “Let me take a look.”

  Reluctantly, she showed her hand.

  “Ever dislocated it before?” he said.

  “No.”

  He rubbed his chin. “Hmm. I think you better let me fix it, Sid.”

  She shook her head.

  “Come on. You can count on me. Just let me do it. You can’t let yourself be distracted by that aching pain.” He nudged her shoulder. “Come on. Time’s pressing.”

  She stretched her hand toward him, looked him right in the eye and said, “Do it.”

  Smoke took her hand gently in his palm, looked right back at her and said, “Easy peasy.”

  Pop.

  Pain lanced through her hand, back, legs, and shoulders. She winced and sucked through her teeth. Eyes watering, she said, “Thanks.”

  He stretched out his hand and took her other one in it. They pulled each other up together.

  He looked deep into her eyes and said, “I’m glad I didn’t lose my head.”

  “Oh,” she replied.

  “But it wouldn’t be so bad if you were the last thing I ever saw.”

  “I can’t believe you just fed me a line.”

  “I can’t believe you’re scared of rats.”

  She rose on her tiptoes, eyed the floor, and said, “If I see any more, you might have to carry me through here.”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  CHAPTER 32

  They wandered: long tedious minutes avoiding the unnatural sounds that roamed the corridor.

  “This looks different,” Smoke said, scratching the dirt wall with his fingers. He eyed the ceiling. The beams were wooden instead of steel and iron, but the lights were still there.

  “Do you think they used to mine something down here?” she said, bending over and picking up a small chunk of coal. “Or is it just another hideout?”

  “It’s a catacomb. Not sure what else you’d call it. The pattern’s purpose is to confuse.” He led her up a gentle slope that opened up into an oversized alcove. There were tables and chairs, and the shelves were stocked with dry rotten rations of some sort. Decayed corpses and piles of bones lay dormant in the corner.

  Sidney ran her fingers over the table. Checked the grooves and markings. She had a knack for such things. Her parents had been avid antiquers. “This is early American,” she said, looking at an emblazoned rising sun carved in the backs of the chairs. “Probably worth a small fortune.”

  “Maybe we can get Mark Wahlberg and The Antiques Roadshow down here,” Smoke said, taking a knee alongside one of the corpses. “They might take a keen interest in these uniforms too. These are redcoats.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Smoke picked up the tattered uniform and what was left of the bones in it. He played with the skeleton’s jaw and made funny talk with it. “The British are coming. The British are coming. Wait. I am the British. Say, how’d my legs get so bony?” The jaw broke off in his hand. “Whoops. The roadshow’s not going to like that.”

  “I think we need to get moving, Smoke Revere.”

  Smoke picked up a redcoat hat and dusted it off.

  “Don’t put that on,” Sidney said, easing her way around the alcove. It felt like she’d stepped back in time more than two hundred years. “You look silly enough already. Let’s go.”

  “After you.” Smoke gestured and shrugged. “I think we’ve survived the first wave of danger. They want us to be here. I can feel it in my bones.”

  Sidney resumed her trek, opting to take the tunnel on the right, rather than the option on the left or going back. For some reason the tension between her shoulders eased. Perhaps Smoke was right. It seemed that their pursuers had been called off. Trudging over the sloppy floors, she came to a stop at the top of a stone-cut staircase. Torches lit the stairway that spiraled downward. A lump formed in her throat. “Uh, Smoke?”

  Like a big hawk, he leaned down over her shoulder. “Looks like a gateway to Hell, doesn’t it?”

  “I really wish you hadn’t said that.”

  “Sorry,” he said, brushing by. “I’ll go first.”

  Heart racing, Sidney followed the stairs deeper into the bowels of the earth. Allison and Megan better be down here. One thing she remembered from spelunking was that you never could tell how deep you were on your own. It practically terrified her. When she was a girl, she’d found the Loraine Caverns fascinating. Now, she’d avoid those historic caves altogether.

  This shadow agent stuff really should come with a hefty boost in hazard pay.

  The tunnel got cooler and even damper. Her thoughts were on the rushing waters she’d seen earlier. Those had to be above her now.

  Do heavy rains fill these tunnels? This is crazy.

  Smoke stopped. “I think we finally hit bottom.”

  “I can’t imagine being any lower.” She stepped from behind his broad shoulders and gazed ahead. Her mouth formed a small ‘O’. A monstrous black chasm loomed. The glimmer of two torches looked to be a hundred yards in the distance. A low howl of wind caught her ears, nipped at her toes, and finally chilled her straight to the marrow. “There has to be another way.”

  Smoke moved forward, fixing his hands on the wood beams that supported a rope bridge that looked to be in poor condition. It was the only thing between them and the other side. He looked back at her. “Can you do it?”

  Her fingers twitched at her sides. “Uh…”

  “I can piggyback you.”

  I would like that... Damn my pride. If he’s not scared, I’m not either. She stepped onto the bridge, glanced back at Smoke, and said, “Don’t get any crazy ideas, Dr. Jones.”

  “Huh, good one.”

  Squeezing
the ropes with white knuckles, she ventured forward. The bridge swayed. She clutched the ropes with her arms.

  “Just stay in the middle, Sid,” Smoke said in a reassuring voice. “It’ll be fine.”

  She sucked it up and moved on, one short step at a time. The wind licked at her toes and howled in her ears. Where is that wind coming from? There was nothing but darkness as black as pitch above her, below her, all around her. The void was the most terrifying thing she had ever seen.

  “You’re doing good, Sid. Keep going.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  She lengthened her stride. The boards beneath her feet began to creak. Morning Glory. She took another step. Morning Glory. And another. Morning Glory. She thought of her mother’s mother. ‘Morning Glory’ was the harshest thing Nanna Nancy ever said. Even though she’d been widowed at a young age, she had great patience with everything she did. Her heart probably wouldn’t skip a beat if she were on this bridge. Sidney turned on her tiny engine and continued forward. Morning Glory. Morning Glory. Morning Glory.

  Squawk!

  Sid froze. “What in the hell was that?”

  “A Night Bird,” Smoke said.

  She peered around. “That’s not funny.”

  “Just keep going.”

  She did, but with ears honing in on the strange rustling that came from all around and on the scattered flaps of tiny wings. She summoned her inner strength. She’d closed at least half the distance to the other side, where an archway awaited, lit by torches. Screw it. She picked up the pace. The rope bridge jostled and twisted.

  “Slow down,” Smoke warned. “It’s sensitive to our movements. Cat’s feet, just like before.”

  Sidney felt exactly what he was talking about. The ripple effect moved up and came back stronger, pitching the bridge from side to side. Anything too rushed would twist the ropes right over. “Okay,” she said in a hushed voice. “Okay. But we better find a shovel, ’cause I’m digging my ass back out of here.”

  She made it five more steps. Ten. Twenty.

  Squawk!

  The black sea surrounding them came to life.

  Squawk! Squawk! Squawk!

  Sid envisioned ancient winged predators darting down, plucking her off the bridge, and dropping her into the hungry black gorge, where gnashing teeth waited. Keep going. Keep going!

  “Ignore it, Sid. Just go.” Smoke said.

  Something zipped overhead, clipping her skull. On instinct, she swung. The bridge buckled hard to the left. She lost her footing and started to fall. Nooooo!

  CHAPTER 33

  Dangling over the bridge with just fingers locked on the ropes, she hung on for her life. This is bad. Really bad.

  Squawk! Squawk!

  Barely able to make out what she was holding onto, she climbed back on the swinging bridge and lay belly down. Huffing for breath, she said, “Smoke? Are you back there?”

  No answer.

  Oh no! Oh no!

  “I’m here. Just be still, will you?” he said in a strained voice.

  Slowly, she managed to look back over her shoulder. Oh no! Smoke held onto the lower rope of the bridge with one hand. “Hang on, Smoke. I’m coming.”

  “The thought had occurred to me,” he said, “but don’t you move. Stay flat and wide. It keeps the bridge stabilized.”

  “Okay.”

  Smoke began a gentle swing, swaying the entire bridge, and with a heave he latched his other hand onto the ropes. He pulled himself back up onto the bridge and said, “Let’s get moving again.”

  “What about those bats?”

  “Those aren’t bats. Bats don’t squawk.”

  “What are they?”

  “Just go,” he urged.

  “Fine, but I’m crawling,” she said.

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Did you just drop a line on me from Moonraker?”

  “Huh,” he said, “I suppose I did. But really, you should get going.”

  Another stony screech erupted, followed by a burst of flapping wings.

  Squawk!

  She crawled onward and said, “You know what those things are, don’t you.”

  Silence.

  “Don’t you.”

  “Yes.”

  “And?” she said, digging her hands between the planks.

  “You don’t need to worry unless you see the yellow glow in their eyes.”

  “Yellow glow?”

  “Yes.”

  Something landed on the bridge, jostling the entire thing.

  “Sid,” Smoke said.

  “What?”

  “Run.”

  “I thought you said to go slow,” she said, checking behind her. Smoke had his back to her. He was eyeing something else on the bridge. It was a small figure, little more than two feet tall, with burning yellow eyes, claws, and black wings. Her neck hairs stood on end. “Never mind.”

  “Run!” Smoke said again.

  Up on her feet, Sid stretched her long legs out in full stride and raced to the other side. The bridge bounced, buckled, and swayed. She surged on, pulling at the ropes, closing on the glimmering torches. Something zipped overhead. Claws scraped over her ducking skull. She cried out. “Ow!”

  “Go!” Smoke said. “Go!”

  Almost there! Almost there! She wanted to get off the bridge more than anything. Her hands raced along the rope railing, steadying her balance.

  Squawk!

  A little gargoyle-like creature landed on the end of the bridge, barring her path. Another one landed on its shoulders. They grabbed the bridge ropes and started shaking them.

  Sidney didn’t know which was a worse fate: facing the grey-skinned fiends with burning-yellow eyes or being pitched into everlasting darkness. Screw you, little monsters! She lowered her shoulder that last ten steps, let out a cry, and charged. “Eee-Yaaaaaaaah!”

  She plowed into the gargoyles, toppled them over, and spilled off the bridge onto the landing. She rose to her feet, shaking her head, and raised her fists up to fight. “Come on, whatever the hell you are!”

  Smoke emerged off the bridge fighting two creatures that were latched onto his legs and arms. He ripped one off and stomped on its chest. He squeezed another by the neck and held it at arm’s length. Its taloned fingers tore at his arms in an angry frenzy. He punched it in the face. “Ow!” He flicked his hand and flung it off him.

  Sid searched for a weapon. They had left theirs on the other side to cross the bridge.

  Squawk!

  A creature landed on her back and dug its fingers into her neck. She grabbed its arm and slammed it hard into the rocky ground. She kicked it in the face, skipping it across the ground. “What are these things?”

  “Gargoyles,” Smoke said, ripping another monster from his leg. “Can’t you tell?” He hurled it into the abyss, only to see it fly back and attack him again. “Argh!”

  “How do you kill them?” she said, peeling another fiend from her waist. The gargoyles were strong for their size. Strong like animals and hard like stone.

  “With a hammer. Preferably a big one.”

  “I don’t have a hammer!” she said. She kicked and swatted at the two gargoyles that squawked and hissed at her. “Got any other ideas?”

  Smoke held a gargoyle by the feet and started smashing it into the cave floor. The little monster started to chip and bust. Wham! Wham! Wham! It crumbled to dust.

  “Good one,” Sid said. She launched a kick at one, missing it. Another gargoyle latched onto her arm. She tried to shake it off. Punched it in the face. “Ow!” She shook her stinging hand. The other monster locked onto her free hand and let out a screech to the other. Their wings fluttered with new life and Sidney felt herself being lifted into the air. Oh snap! The gargoyles flew straight for the abyss. “Smoke!”

  CHAPTER 34

  Feet kicking, she cried out again. “Smoke!”

  The ranging man’s head snapped up. He took two tremendous strides, jumped up, and locked his fingers on her ankles. The g
argoyles shrieked. Their wings beat with fury, pulling them both toward the abyss.

  Sidney’s arms and legs groaned under the strain. Muscle and sinew popped. “You’re ripping me apart!”

  Smoke’s toes dragged across the ground. He bunched up and heaved. The gargoyles faltered. Their efforts sagged. They let go.

  Smoke landed on his feet and caught Sidney in his arms. “Are you all—”

  She slipped out of his arms, let out a growl, and plucked the nearest gargoyle out of the air. She slammed it face-first into the ground and stomped her bloody foot on its back. Pinning it to the ground, she reached down, grabbed its wings, and tore them off its back.

  It let out an ear-splitting shriek.

  She tossed the wings aside and stuffed its face in the ground. “Shut up!” She grabbed it by the legs and slung it far into the abyss, listening to its fading horrified cry.

  “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

  “Almost makes you think they have feelings,” Smoke said. He pinned another gargoyle to the ground. “I like the way you think.” He tore its wings off. Riiiip! Casually, he flung it away. “I think that’s the last of them.”

  “For now,” Sidney said, peering into the black chasm. She wiped away the blood that dripped into her eye. Ran her fingers over the gash in her head. That feels nasty.

  “Let me take a look,” Smoke said, easing up to her. He had deep scratches all over his hands and face. He examined it. “It’ll clot.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Did you want me to kiss it for you?”

  She leered at him. Yes. “Shut up.” She moved by him and stared at the door between the burning torches. It was a solid-steel door, modern by the looks of it, sitting just behind an archway cut from large stones. “That’s a big door.”

  Smoke knocked on it with his knuckles. It made a hollow sound. Bong. Bong. Bong. “Makes you wonder if it’s supposed to keep things in or out. Open sesame.”

  “Please don’t.” She placed her hands on her knees and caught her breath. Her lungs burned, and her body ached. She licked her dry lips. She’d worked out hard, but nothing had ever pushed her like this. “Are you sure this isn’t Hell?”