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

by Craig Halloran

  “I was thinking about it the other way around, but I’m game.” Smoke gave Vormus and Manson a look. Manson turned into a black kid with curly white hair. “What about these two sandbags?”

  “They’ll just have to stay out of the way,” Sid said to the shifters.

  “We can help, you know,” Vormus said.

  “You need to make sure you don’t lose Manson. And stay out of the way.” Sid motioned Smoke forward with her gun. “Let’s go.”

  Smoke weaved his way through the graveyard of metal shipping containers. Sid stayed one box length away from Smoke, checking high and low. Nothing but them moved or scurried, aside from the soft breeze that kicked up debris from time to time. Smoke came to a stop in front of a blue container sitting by itself beside metal containers stacked four high. He looked all around. His eyes found Sid’s.

  Sid held up her palm. He waited. She moved quick, scouting the area high and low. She circled the containers and stood face to face with Smoke. “It’s all clear. Not a shifter in sight, aside from the two we brought.” She rapped her knuckles on the container. “So, this is the one?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, let’s hope Mal is clone free and he’s got some nice toys for us.” She worked the container’s handles. “Still, I hate to think Sam and Guppy are clones. We’d be able to tell, wouldn’t we?”

  “You’d think.” Smoke grabbed the handles and pulled. The doors groaned. Something smashed through the doors, knocking them backward. A wolf man had Smoke pinned down by the throat.

  CHAPTER 18

  Sid knew the creature instantly to be Adam Vaughn. The hairy figure was a knot of muscular limbs and power. He wore only a pair of trousers. His savage fury had Smoke flat on the ground. Saliva dripped from the wolf man’s jaws. Dazed from having the door smacked into her head, Sid took aim on the wolf man’s broad back.

  Smoke twisted away from the wolf man in a wrestling move that reversed their positions. Now he had the wolf man on his back.

  But in a burst of primal power, the wolf man swatted Smoke aside with his paws. The blow sent Smoke reeling into the container. The wolf man rose, ready to pounce for the kill. He leered at Sid. “You’re next, pretty.”

  She fired several shots. The bullets tore into the wolf man’s body.

  A.V. staggered back and laughed. “You mortals and your bullets. How pathetic.”

  “We’ll see how you feel about it once I unload this clip into your skull.”

  “It will be a lesser effect than when I rip your skulls from your heads.” A.V. closed in on Smoke.

  Sid continued to fire. Regular bullets, unfortunately. They really needed to get to this cache. As A.V. lunged for Smoke, she drew her knife and lunged for A.V.

  A shadow dropped from the sky and plowed into her. The blow knocked the knife from her grip. Her head smacked hard into the ground. Shaking it off, she found that a figure loomed over her. It was Angi Harlow, the Night Bird, head to toe in all her feathered glory. The exotic woman was radiant, her smile beautiful and deadly, her eyes cold and merciless.

  “We meet again,” Angi said. The talons on her feet opened and closed.

  Sid drew her other gun and fired.

  In a blur of feathers, Night Bird slipped aside. In a moment, she had Sid’s hands locked up by the wrists. She squeezed.

  Sid gasped. “Ah!” The shifter’s grip was iron. She kicked at the feathered woman.

  With taloned feet, Night Bird pinned down Sid’s legs and pinched her thighs.

  She felt the blood stop flowing through them.

  “You cannot hurt me, mortal! And I won’t underestimate you this time!” Night Bird’s face was a mask of anger. “You embarrassed me in my house. In front of my friends. You will pay!” She punched Sid several times with lightning-quick strikes. And then the harpy’s wings flapped.

  Sid’s eyes rolled up in her head. Her body left the ground. Weightlessness overcame her. With blood dripping from her lips and through her swelling eyes, the world below became smaller.

  ***

  Smoke lay still.

  A.V. moved in.

  Using his legs, he tripped the wolf man.

  The wolf man stumbled.

  Smoke struck. He jammed his knife between the shifter’s ribs, burying it hilt deep in his heart.

  A.V. let out a howl. His arm cocked back. His fist smashed Smoke in the chest with the force of a kicking ram.

  Smoke turned aside just enough to evade the full force of the strike. Reeling from the glancing blow, he locked the wolf man’s arm up and yanked it out of the socket.

  The savage shifter became unglued. The slavering jaws snapped at Smoke’s neck. With one arm, he shoved Smoke away. Kicking his elbow back with a pop, A.V. got his shoulder back into place. The hulking brute pulled the knife from his chest and pointed it at Smoke, panting. “That was close. Mortal blades can cut me, but they can’t kill me.” He eyed the blade in the moonlight. “Ah, but this is special steel. Maybe my claws can’t peel the second skin from your limbs, but this can.” He showed a fierce smile. “I can poke a hole clean through you with this.”

  Smoke spat blood on the ground. “We’ll see.”

  Brandishing the razor-sharp steel, A.V. pounced. He stabbed, jabbed, and cut with raw skill. His savage power and speed more than made up for his lack of refinement.

  Smoke blocked and countered with every move he had. He parried the lighting-quick strikes with fists, forearms, and elbows.

  A.V. countered his counter.

  The knife snaked through Smoke’s defenses.

  Grinding his teeth, Smoke felt like a ball of fire exploded in his shoulder.

  A.V. laughed.

  CHAPTER 19

  The higher they soared, the more Night Bird laughed. “I should drop you, but that’s not the plan. I must say, that would be delightful. But Kane is obsessed with you, like some sort of prize.” She sneered at Sid. “I don’t see it.”

  Gathering her senses, Sid stared down at the ground. She felt as helpless as she was weightless. Night Bird’s powerful wings beat against the wind, moving them away from the shipyard. “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll know when we get there.”

  Something flew up from the shipyard. It was Vormus. He wrapped his arms around Sid’s body and tried to pull her free of Angi’s talons.

  “You!” Night Bird screamed. “Vormus, you are ever the pest!” She flapped harder. “Let go!”

  “Oh, Angi, you are as lovely as ever, but I fear I cannot let go. This prize is mine.”

  Sid felt whatever power Vormus commanded pulling against her like a great weight.

  Night Bird began to sink in the sky. Enraged, she shrieked, “Release me, Vormus! Don’t be a fool! Release me!”

  “Release her, Angi, and I’ll release you,” Vormus said, and then he whispered in Sid’s ear, “She’s one of the more difficult women I know. We dated a century ago. She was quite entertaining but too needy for my liking in the end.”

  “Save the story and just get me back on earth,” Sid choked out. Angi’s talons were squeezing her to death. “Hurry.”

  The three of them spiraled in a downward pattern like a plane landing with one wing. Fifty feet. Thirty feet. Twenty feet. Night Bird squalled. The three of them hit hard.

  Without hesitation, Vormus punched Night Bird in the face. Her grip loosened.

  Sid squirmed free.

  “Help Smoke,” said Vormus. “He needs it. I’ll handle her.”

  Sid took off at a full sprint. Dashing through the containers, she chased the sound of bodies slamming into metal. She darted back to the spot where the battle had started.

  A.V. had Smoke hoisted over his head. He hurled Smoke into a wall of steel.

  Smoke lay on the ground, unmoving.

  Heart racing, Sid took a clip of bullets off her belt and flicked out the regular rounds with her thumb, one by one. Please be in there! The last bullet in the clip was green tipped. She didn’t even know wha
t it did. She snatched up her gun, dropped out the last magazine, stuffed in the new one, and charged the slide.

  A.V. turned. “Huh?”

  She squeezed the trigger. The bullet spun out of the chamber at hypersonic speed and smacked into A.V.’s chest.

  A.V. the wolf man grunted. His part-wolf, part-man face looked down. The bullet had grafted itself to his skin like a tick. He plucked at it with his fingertips. “It tingles.” His eyes slid Sid’s way and froze. His jaw hung in an open expression. He looked like a wolf man who had just come from the taxidermist.

  Groaning, Smoke knocked on A.V.’s leg. “He’s stiff as a board.”

  Sid fanned her hand in front of A.V.’s eyes.

  The eyes didn’t move. A rugged sigh came from the shifter’s mouth.

  “It’s probably going to wear off,” she said. “We need to secure him.”

  A.V.’s hardened limbs didn’t budge. Smoke put his flex cuffs away. “These are useless, but I have an idea.” He picked A.V. up by the waist and walked him inside the shipping container. After unceremoniously dropping the wolf man on the floor, he stepped outside just as Vormus arrived.

  The vampire shifter held Night Bird in his arms. She was unconscious. “She tires more easily than the rest.” With a heave, he tossed her into the container like a hay bale.

  Smoke closed the huge metal container and locked it shut, checking that the locking mechanism was secure. “I think this was meant for us.”

  “Why’s that?” Sid said, holding her ribs. It hurt to breathe.

  Smoke lifted his hand and pointed. A painful grimace marked his face. A flatbed truck and loader were nearby.

  Sid got it. Her attention zeroed in on Smoke’s shoulder. His sweetheart suit was caked in blood. “John, you’re hurt.”

  “Yeah, the werewolf stabbed me. Doesn’t make much sense, does it?”

  A hollow clapping sound came from nearby. Manson was sitting on a nearby container with his feet dangling over the edge. He was a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy again. “I found this mildly entertaining. You folks really make a great team.”

  “If you’re so old, how’d you manage to climb up there?” Sid asked.

  “Well, they have ladders.”

  “No they don’t.”

  “Oh.” Manson hopped off the container. He landed softly on his toes. “So maybe I’m a little spryer than I let on.”

  “You’re a lot spryer than you let on.” Sid picked up her guns and holstered them. “How come you didn’t run?”

  “Well, I never felt like a prisoner. And I could use the protection.” He clasped his hands. “It looks like I’m in pretty good hands, even though Mister Smoke is bleeding. I have to say, that wound looks awfully painful. It’s going to need more than just stitches. I’d say surgery. Months of recovery. Oh, but you heal faster than most, don’t you.”

  “Nothing extraordinary.”

  “I know better than that.” Manson adjusted his navy-blue tie, then checked his sleeves. “I think this suit is done for. Can we swing by the mall? I need some new duds.”

  “Quiet.” Smoke’s eyes narrowed.

  Sid caught the scuffle of soft shoes on the pavement. She braced herself against a nearby container, moving Manson back as she did so.

  Who on earth do we have to deal with now?

  CHAPTER 20

  A person peeked around the corner. Sid stuck her Glock in the man’s temple. It was Mal Carlson.

  “Easy now,” the scientist said. His hands were up. “I’m here to help.”

  Sid disagreed. “You set us up.”

  “No, on the contrary, it wasn’t me,” said the disheveled man. “I didn’t. Why would I set you up and then come here? I drove, for Pete’s sake. Have you ever seen me drive before?”

  “No, Asia always does.”

  Mal’s shoulders drooped. “Uh-huh.”

  “Asia’s a clone!” Sid said. Her stomach turned queasy. She shoved by Mal and upchucked right behind him. Leaning on the container, she tried to catch her breath. “Sorry about that. I guess all the excitement is getting to me.”

  Smoke laid his hand on her shoulder.

  Sid waved him off. “Just give me some space. I need to breathe.” She fanned her flushed face with her hands, taking in as deep a breath as she could. And wincing. It felt like someone had driven a nail into her ribs. “I think I’ve got a cracked rib. Damn.”

  “Just take it easy.” Smoke took over. He gave Mal a little shove with his fingers. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve been feeling a little worse each day for several weeks now. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I never get sick. I dine on my fair share of crap, but I load up on vitamins and apricot seeds. After you left, I did a little more investigating on my own. Thanks to microtechnology, I was able to spy on my sweet Asia. The little witch from the Orient was poisoning me. Still, I lay low. That’s when I caught your message. She sent you here, not me.”

  “Where’s Asia now?” he asked.

  “I have no idea. I pretended to be so sick I needed rest.” He took off his glasses and huffed on them. “I still feel awful, but what she fed me is wearing off.” He planted his glasses back on his nose. “I heard her leave not long after I pretended to sleep. If that was a clone, then where is my Asia, Smoke?” Mal sobbed. “Where?”

  “We’re working on that.”

  “You don’t think she’s dead, do you?”

  Smoke looked down at Manson. The boy was chewing a piece of gum. He blew a bubble, shook his head. “No. She’s probably at the power plant.”

  “The power plant?”

  “Drake’s power plant near Hillcrest Mausoleum.” Manson popped his bubble. “They keep the cadavers in there.”

  “Who’s this little creep?” Mal asked.

  “Manson Bay, the keeper of secrets. He just let another secret out.” Smoke grabbed Manson by the tie. “Why didn’t you mention that before?”

  “Mysteries reveal themselves when the time is right. Now is the right time. Besides, you aren’t going to be able to get in there without some sort of arsenal. I had hoped you would find the weapons cache you needed. You’re screwed now.”

  Mal pulled his shoulders back. “The only one screwed is the one who stole my Asia.” He looked Smoke in the eye. “I brought the weapons cache with me.”

  ***

  Sid hung back while the men checked out the midnight-blue Chevy Suburban Mal had driven to the shipyard. It was parked beside the Hellcat.

  For some reason Manson stayed by Sid’s side. He offered her a piece of gum. “You should try it. Bubble Yum watermelon. It’s one of the few modern marvels I enjoy. Well, and Seinfeld. I think Shakespeare would have liked him.”

  “I’ll pass,” she said.

  “Your breath is far from fabulous. I’d offer a mint if I had one.”

  She took the gum. Manson made a nice-looking young boy. He was sharp in his suit. But there were secrets behind his dark-blue eyes, and he carried himself like the ancient adult he was. “Why do you change from face to face?”

  “It’s just practice, really. I became a shifter when I was young. It was an accident. They hunted me. I learned to survive by changing my face, but I never identified with these monsters or anything. I didn’t know what they were back then.”

  “It sounds like you’ve had a long and interesting life.”

  “Right on both counts.” Manson cleared his throat. “But it nears its end. I’ve struggled for centuries knowing I wasn’t on the right side of things, but I’ve been a coward. I let them control me. I created the clones for them. I regret it. They would have never known how to make them if I hadn’t done it. I never thought they’d take it to the extreme they did.”

  Manson seemed innocent enough. She wanted to believe him. But she’d come up with her own rule of thumb. All shifters are liars. She played along.

  Smoke hollered for her. “Sid, you have to see this.”

  The back of Mal’s SUV was loaded with enough guns and a
mmo to start a small army. There were boxes of blue-, red-, and green-tipped rounds. Smoke was feeding rounds into an M-16 magazine. “This is going to get nasty.”

  “You need to take it easy. Your shoulder’s still bleeding.”

  In a rough voice, Smoke replied, “I ain’t got time to bleed.”

  “Well, you’re going to make time to get stitched, Blain.”

  “I feel an action-packed marathon filled with tobacco and graphic violence coming on once this is over.”

  “Let’s hope we can squeeze it in before the aliens, predators, and terminators arrive.”

  Everyone else had stopped what they were doing and was staring at them. Vormus said, “What’s a terminator?”

  “Five hundred pounds of steel under a hundred pounds of synthetic skin, steroids, and muscle.” Smoke chuckled. “I’ll be back.”

  “We could sure use Asia right now. I can’t stitch a shoulder like she can.”

  “I’ll do it,” Manson volunteered. “You just have to trust me.”

  CHAPTER 21

  The front passenger seat was leaned all the way back in the Suburban. Smoke lay still in the leather chair. Manson sat in the rear seat overlooking Smoke’s wound. He wore Smoke’s goggles. The surgical tools in the boyish shifter’s fingers moved with the precision and delicacy of a spider’s spinnerets.

  The large fighter was stripped down to the waist. His jaws clenched. “It feels like you’re sticking a piece of rebar in there.”

  Sid stood just inside the open back door on the passenger side. Smoke’s powerful grip held her hand tight. “You know you love the pain.”

  “Yeah, that burning, throbbing sensation really elates me.”

  “What,” she smiled, “you aren’t going to give me the ‘Pain don’t hurt’ line?”

  “I guess it slipped my mind.”

  “I’ll be needing one of your little pills, Professor,” Manson said to Mal, who was assisting from the driver’s seat.

  Startled, Mal said, “What do you mean?”

  Manson rolled his eyes. “Not that kind. The supervitamins.”