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 57

by Craig Halloran


  “I’m so sorry, Megan.”

  She swung her legs off the bed, got up, and shuffled into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, she said to herself, “Good Lord, I’m a mess.” She ran her fingers over the gash that Swift Venison had given her. She huffed a laugh.

  What a stupid name, even for a rat.

  The claw marks were still red and itchy. From the vanity drawer she pulled out a tube of Neosporin. She squeezed some on her finger and rubbed it in. “At least I don’t have anywhere to go.”

  In the kitchen she scraped out just enough coffee grounds to make a cup of coffee. Her machine was out of coffee pods. It was one of the first expenses she’d shaved, by whittling down her coffee budget to a plastic can of Folgers. As she took a seat at the kitchen bar, the smell of fresh brew got her going a little bit again.

  Routine. That was what she needed to get out of this funk she was in. She closed her eyes and made a mental list.

  Coffee.

  News.

  Stretching.

  A long run.

  Workout.

  Hit the heavy bag.

  Kick the heavy bag.

  Smoke popped into her mind.

  Sex.

  She squeezed her eyes tight.

  No. No sex. No Smoke. Morning Glory, Sid. The man eats bullets!

  Oh, but those eyes.

  CHAPTER 7

  Sid completed the gauntlet of activity she’d planned for herself and returned to the apartment. Sweat soaked, she removed her neon-blue-and-jet-black jogging suit and tossed it onto the overstuffed hamper.

  Oh boy, I can sit at home and do laundry today. Whoopee!

  She took a hot shower, dried off, and slipped into the only clean clothes she could find: the gunmetal-gray Darkslayer T-shirt Guppy had given her and a pair of khaki shorts. She threw in the first load of laundry, headed into her small living room, and sat down. She turned the TV on to the local news.

  A hard rain started outside.

  Glad I got my run in.

  The outside weathercaster was getting drenched. The sewer drain behind him was overflowing.

  Sid thought of the massive rats inside those tunnels and cringed. She’d almost died … again. Devoured by rats like in an Indiana Jones movie. Her father, Keith, loved those movies. It got her thinking again about Swift Venison. The things he’d said about power. Money. The temptation.

  He said he’d been a priest. He made it clear that the Drake worked for or with the politicians. They cleaned up the streets in grisly ways. And he’d said there was a bounty on her head. On Smoke’s head. But she didn’t feel any less safe than she had before. And Swift Venison hadn’t seemed that worried when they took him in. He’d almost seemed relieved.

  It had all been too easy.

  “Something stinks.” She rubbed her cheek. “Stinks bad.”

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  The sound jostled Sid from head to toe. Images of fiendish bounty hunters ran through her head. She found her Glock and took a quick peek through the blinds. Her breathing eased, and she opened the door.

  “Hi,” Smoke said with a sparkle in his dark eyes. He was clean shaven, and his lustrous hair was combed back in waves. He wore a burgundy polo shirt in a nice cotton blend and dark-blue jeans that stopped at the toes of his leather boots. “Nice shirt.”

  “You should call first,” Sid said, stepping aside and closing the door behind him.

  “But that would ruin the surprise,” he said, taking a seat on the couch.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, I’d rather you ruin a surprise than ruin my day.”

  “That’s kinda harsh.” He patted the sofa cushion beside him. “Why don’t you just sit down?”

  “Look, I’m sorry, John. I really am. But that’s not a good idea.” He smells good. Really good. And the semi-preppy thing really works for him. “And what’s with the clothes? Did you swing by the mall on your way over here or something?”

  “I thought we could go and have lunch? Somewhere nice.”

  “Like a waffle house?”

  “Maybe a little nicer than that. I know a great 24-hour breakfast buffet at Truck Stop Ninety-nine.”

  “Shut up,” she said, letting loose a little smile.

  There was something innocent and boyish in Smoke’s expression. He seemed a little nervous, maybe.

  “So, is this visit business or pleasure?”

  Smoke’s eyes brightened. “Pleasure?”

  “Just an expression. Bad choice of words. I should have said, ‘social.’”

  “But you said ‘pleasure’. You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you.”

  She cozied a little closer to him, just a hair out of his reach. “You’re all my dreams and nightmares wrapped up in one.”

  “You just can’t give in to the plus side of me, can you.”

  “I guess that’s just the woman in me.”

  “Well, I like the woman in you.” He reached out and tried to grab her hand.

  Sid drifted back. “So, I take it this is a social visit? Or is it business? Do we have a case where you get to go undercover as a mall dad?”

  Smoke started laughing. “You really are cold, aren’t you. Come here.”

  “No. I’m not in the mood. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

  Striking fast, Smoke seized her wrists and eased her onto his lap. “Now this isn’t so bad, is it?”

  “Yes.” No.

  He coiled his arm around her waist and squeezed her thigh with his hand. He leaned in and kissed her.

  Lips to lips, heart to heart, she gave in. It wasn’t the first time either. She and Smoke had moments here and there, but nothing serious. She was holding back because there was something mysterious about Smoke that she didn’t understand.

  Something also seemed to hold Smoke back, an innocence or lack of experience.

  She was drawn to it. She tangled her fingers into his thick locks, straddled him, and kissed him harder.

  He returned in kind.

  It went on for minutes until she broke it off, gasping for breath.

  “Is something wrong?” he said.

  “No. Do you think something’s wrong?”

  Smoke shook his head no.

  Sid could see something was still on his mind, eating at him. Panting, she swiped her hair back over her shoulders.

  Here we go again.

  “Okay, do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “You know what. Do what you always do that screws the moment up so that we can get on with it.” She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and kissed his handsome face, broke it off and then said, “Make it fast.”

  Smoke rubbed her thighs with his big hands. “Let’s just keep doing what we’re doing?”

  “What, keep making out like we’re in an episode of Happy Days? I’m a woman, Smoke. I want you, you want me. Take me!”

  Smoke’s face paled. His expression grew uncertain, almost embarrassed. This was the man who faced down death with nothing short of ice-water in his veins. Nothing rattled him. Now, he seemed confused.

  Sid’s engine cooled. She pushed herself up off his lap.

  Smoke reached for her.

  But she glided away. “Do you want me or not, John?”

  “Of course I do. It’s not you though, it’s me.”

  “‘It’s not you, it’s me’? What the hell is this, a bad Matthew McConaughey movie?” She drew back her fist and kicked him in the knee instead.

  “Ow!” he said. “And who’s Matthew McConaughey?”

  “Ow!” She hopped over to the kitchen counter, shaking her hand and wincing. “Just get out of here!”

  “Sid, it’s not that. It’s not that at all. I just want to do things right.”

  Without looking at him, she said, “Are you sure? Because you really seem to enjoy doing things wrong.”

  “Look, I’m good at a lot of things. Shooting people. Beating up people. Killing people. And eating pancakes. But relationships? Well, t
hey aren’t my strong suit. Of course, you seem to have figured that out on your own.”

  She could see him fidgeting with something, but she kept her gaze fixed on the kitchen.

  “That’s the reason,” Smoke continued in his strong but gentle voice, “why I don’t want to mess this up.”

  The stiffness in her back started to melt a little. She almost turned her head.

  “Sid, look at me.”

  She turned on her stool and lost her breath.

  Smoke was on one knee holding a diamond engagement ring in his hand. “Will you marry me?”

  CHAPTER 8

  Sid’s eyes fastened on the jaw-dropping diamond ring.

  The cut, clarity, and color were astounding. And it was big. It winked at her from the gold ring in which it rested. It spoke to her, saying, ‘Take me.’

  She glanced at Smoke then back at the ring. She leaned closer. Her keen eye didn’t pick up a single inclusion. She found Smoke’s eyes again. Sweet and innocent. “What did you just say?”

  “Will you marry me?”

  She couldn’t feel her fingers or toes. She held her head as the room began to spin a little.

  “Sid, are you all right?”

  “I–I … did you just ask me to marry you?”

  “That’s what the ring is for … a wedding.” Smoke rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. “Like I said, I want to do things right.”

  In a hushed breath, she replied, “You’re crazy.” She shook her head a little and felt her senses start to return. She checked out the diamond again. Her heart was pounding. “That really is beautiful, John, but this … this is crazy. Uh, I’m sorry to ask this, but why?”

  Smoke rose up, looked deep into her eyes, and touched her chin. “Because I love you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you.”

  It wasn’t sinking in.

  “John, you can’t just walk in here and ask me to marry you.” She moved away and curled up in the chair. “It’s crazy. What are you trying to do to me anyway?”

  “I’m trying to marry you. Take care of you. Be your husband if you’ll have me.” He sounded nice about it, but there was a hint of irritation in his voice.

  “You couldn’t have possibly believed that you could come in here and ask me to marry you and that I’d just say yes.”

  “I wanted to do it over lunch.”

  She made a frustrated growling sound. “Most people talk about these things. They don’t just do them.” She stuck her face in her hands. “Nobody does that.”

  “Well, don’t get mad at me. I didn’t realize there was a rulebook.”

  “Well, there is!”

  Smoke took a seat on the couch, set the ring box down, and didn’t say a word.

  The silence was uncomfortable.

  Sid’s thoughts were a tangled mess. She wasn’t much different than most women. She too dreamed of a diamond engagement and a nice wedding. She and her mom and Allison had even talked about those things from time to time. Of course, Allison had done most of the talking. She’d always had big plans, and Sid knew that her sister would be full of envy if she saw a ring like this. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

  Smoke eased forward. “Would you like to try it on?”

  Yes! “No. I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  It was a fair question. Smoke deserved a fair answer. She gave him the best one she had. “I don’t know why.” She qualified it. “Yet.”

  Smoke rubbed his clean-shaven chin. “Look, I realize this might not have been in your plans, but you really shouldn’t have expected anything different from me. It’s supposed to be a happy moment, you know.”

  She let out a little laugh. “Heh! No, you’re right. But I honestly think I would have been less surprised if you’d asked me in the sewers. But like this? Something’s not right.”

  “Maybe you don’t feel the same way about me that I do about you. I can live with that. Well, maybe I can’t. But since the first moment I saw you, I knew I wanted to marry you.” He closed the case on the diamond. “I don’t know how long ‘yet’ takes, but I can wait.”

  His closing of the box felt like her own coffin being sealed as she watched Smoke get up to leave. Her wide eyes were on his back as he started walking for the door. His long, dark hair. His powerful, rangy frame.

  Tall, dark, and handsome—and I’m going to let him get away. He’s saved my life and almost died for me. Am I crazy, or is it all him?

  Smoke put his hand on the doorknob and started to turn it. “Just call me.”

  Sid’s heart started to break.

  What do I do?

  But then it was too late. Her heart had broken the moment the door closed behind him.

  Clutching her chest, she took a seat on the couch.

  What just happened?

  She reached over, picked up the ring box, and popped it open.

  The ring was as bright as a shining star.

  Morning Glory!

  She hopped out of her seat, ran to the front door, and opened it up.

  Smoke was gone. There was only the rumble of his primer-gray Camaro pulling out of her parking lot and vanishing into the traffic on the streets.

  “Dammit.”

  She closed the door and sagged down with her back against it, holding her head. With the ring box still in her hand, she started laughing—a bit derangedly—as the torrent of mixed emotions toyed with her brain. Smoke loved her! He had said so. She knew she loved him too, but marriage? Was it really that kind of love? Deep. Long lasting. Meaningful?

  As she ran her finger over the diamond’s edges, a smile crossed her lips. “I guess I could be a big girl and talk to him like a woman about this. Boy, I sure didn’t handle that very well.” On her hands and knees, she crawled over to the couch to lie down on it. She tucked the ring box under her arm.

  I need to call him. What do I say? Yes? No? Maybe? Not now? Good Lord, why did that man have to propose to me?

  She yawned, and her chest shuddered. She reached over to the coffee table, grabbed her phone, and pulled up Smoke’s number.

  Should I text, or should I call him?

  The phone buzzed in her hand.

  “Eek!” Expecting Smoke, she got another surprise, a text from Cyrus Tweel. It read, “Turn on the local news and don’t go anywhere! On my way over.”

  “What in the world is going on now?” She found the remote and turned on the television to the local news.

  Ambulances, police cars, and fire truck lights were flashing like the Fourth of July fireworks. Behind them was the site of a new construction project, a new mega-shelter for the homeless that Congressman Wilhelm and some other prominent business leaders had been working on. If Sid’s memory served her well, today was the grand opening. She turned up the volume.

  A black female reporter stood just inside the building’s overhang, out of the pouring rain. She was soaked, but unaffected. “This is Angie Gentry, TV1Y News, and we have confirmation from local law enforcement officials that Congressman Augustus Wilhelm has been shot and presumably killed. The congressman has been rushed to Mercy Angels hospital.” She read more details from a rain-soaked piece of paper. “Witnesses at the ceremony reported that a tall white male in a ball cap and raincoat stepped out of the crowd and opened fire. Security has already released this video footage.” She held up the paper, revealing a crystal-clear picture of John Smoke.

  Sidney dropped the ring box and gasped.

  CHAPTER 9

  Sid’s upside-down world had just been turned inside out. Two FBI agents were posted outside her front door. Inside with her were Cyrus Tweel and Rebecca Lang. Neither were happy. Both showed frowns as long as football fields.

  “I could have come down to the station,” Sid said as soon as they arrived. It was all business though. Pressure. A congressman had been shot. DC’s entire world was rocked. And her want-to-be-fiancé was the prime suspect. “This isn’t an ideal place for an interrogation.”

&nb
sp; “Do you have any idea where he is?” Cyrus said, staring at her with his hard, beady eyes. “And don’t play any games, Sid. We’re not in the mood for them.”

  “We’re?” Sid replied, looking at Rebecca.

  The petite agent was every bit as frosty as she’d ever been. Her eyes gave Sid’s apartment the once-over more than once.

  “What did I say about the games?” Cyrus said.

  “I’m not playing games, and no, I don’t know where Smoke is. He just left twenty minutes before you got here. Cyrus, there is no way he did this. He was here, not there.”

  Rebecca stepped over. “The shooting was an hour and a half ago. That’s plenty of time to come over here and have a booty call before he goes back to prison.”

  Sid’s eyes flashed. She was up on her feet, shoving Rebecca into the bar stool.

  “You bitch!” Rebecca hauled back, ready to unload a punch.

  Cyrus caught her arm.

  “You dare!” Rebecca said to him. She smacked him hard in the face.

  Cyrus’s eyes filled with astonishment. A blue vein popped out on his forehead. “This is no way for agents or former agents to act. Rebecca, Sid, sit down!”

  “Don’t you dare tell me what to do!” Rebecca straightened her business coat and sat back down on the stool. “I’ll legally castrate you.”

  “Sid, I know you like this guy, but we warned you, me and Ted. He’s a loose cannon. A bit of a nut job.” He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. “And I also know about your history with Congressman Wilhelm. You and him, his son, and your sister, well, let’s just say you have a colorful history.”

  “Wait a second. You think I said something that triggered this?”

  Cyrus and Rebecca glanced at each other, then Cyrus said, “So you think he did it?”

  “No. Absolutely not. He’d never do such a thing. John might be a lot of things, but he’s not a murderer.”

 

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