James narrowed his eyes. “What’s this?”
“It belonged to Saint Anthony, lad.”
The bounty hunter chuckled. “That’s appropriate. How do you use it? Just pray to him?”
“That might help, but it also gets warmer the closer you get to the object of your search.” The Professor shrugged. “Be aware that it gets really hot. Burn-your-hands hot.”
James grabbed the crucifix. “I’m not worried. I’m the driver, and I’m Catholic.”
“Also note, this thing only works on objects, not people. I suggest focusing on the circlet. That’s the most powerful of the stolen artifacts. You’ll get the best resonance that way.”
With a quick nod to the Professor, he spun on his heel and marched for the door, ignoring all the noise and din of the pub to offer a silent prayer to the patron saint of all things lost.
The bounty hunter hopped back into his truck and handed Tyler the crucifix.
The information broker took it. “It’s slightly warm. What’s this?”
“It’ll get warmer as we get closer to the main artifact. From there, we can find the people who might have taken Shay and Hall and break their bones until they give up their location.” James frowned. “By the way, I’ve done this kind of tracking before in Vegas. It’s annoying as f—”
He eyed the crucifix. He didn’t know if its power came from secular magic or a true divine blessing, but there was no problem with being cautious and hoping for a little help from the Man Upstairs or his saints.
“It’s annoying,” James finished. “If we can just get a general direction, it will help a lot.”
Tyler nodded. “I’m waiting for some calls.”
As if his words had summoned it, James’ phone rang with a call from Peyton. He grabbed it and put it to his ear.
“Tell me you have something useful,” the bounty hunter rumbled.
“I was checking feeds from drones in the area. There was a mysterious failure of several drones around the same time as the missing video footage. Not sure if it was EMP or magic. Anyway, I found a drone farther out, grabbed the footage, and enhanced it. Spotted a few suspicious vans all going northbound on the 110.” Peyton sighed. “But that’s all I’ve got. I haven’t been able to find any more sign of them.”
James grunted. “A general direction is all we need. Thanks.” He hung up. “We go north from the museum and head toward the 110. Pay the fu— Pay attention to that thing and tell me if it gets warmer.”
The bounty hunter pulled his truck away from the curb and started heading north while also gradually making his way closer to the 110.
Minutes later, Tyler cleared his throat. “It’s getting warmer, I think.”
James nodded. “Good.”
He gunned the truck through the streets, the powerful engine roaring in the night. If there were ever a time he needed the cops to look the other way, this was it.
Just need to get to her before it’s too late. That’s all I ask.
“North from the museum isn’t all that specific, Brownstone.” Tyler frowned. “Do we have any other information on where the women or the artifacts might be?”
“That’s why we have the crucifix.” James shrugged. “Just keep paying attention to it.”
Miles later, Tyler’s phone chimed. He pulled it out with his free hand and put to his ear.
“Yes. I understand. Thanks. You’ll be paid using the standard method within twelve hours with a bonus.” The information broker slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Okay, I owe someone a lot of money, but they’ve given me a useful tip that should narrow down the search.”
James glanced at him. “What?”
“The vans we’re looking for were spotted in Koreatown. If we didn’t have your holy doodad that’d be too big an area to search, but with this little thing, I think we have a chance.” Tyler held up the crucifix.
The bounty hunter grunted. “That belonged to Saint Anthony. Show some respect.”
Tyler frowned at the cross. “This is an actual holy artifact?”
“Yeah.”
The information broker grimaced. “If I hold it for too long, it’s not going to, you know, turn me all religious, is it?” He eyed James. “Is that what happened to you?”
James snorted. “I was raised by priests, idiot.”
“Must have been the vengeful kind.”
By the time they took an exit off the 110 into Koreatown, the increasing heat of the crucifix forced Tyler to hold it using a handkerchief.
“This thing is really starting to burn, Brownstone. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this.”
“Don’t be such a pussy.” James nodded. “And, yeah, the Professor mentioned it might do that. Specifically called it ‘burn-your-hands hot.’”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Why can’t you hold it?”
“Because I’m driving.”
“We can take turns driving, asshole.”
James barked out a laugh. “I truly love three things in this world: Shay, my daughter, and this truck. No way you’re driving my truck while I’m still breathing. I believe in monogamy.”
Tyler sighed and looked down at the crucifix. “How hot can it get? It’s not going to blow up, is it?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? What the hell, Brownstone?”
James shrugged. “I’ve seen tracking artifacts work that way before. The closer you get, the more they react. Then boom.”
Tyler laughed. “You’re just screwing me, aren’t you, Brownstone?”
“Nope. Had it happen once.”
The information broker groaned. “Fuck my life.”
10
Shay sighed.
This is what I get for not hiding a knife in my boot. Good thing I didn’t have one of my adamantine knives in my purse. I might never see it again. It’s like the universe is punishing me for daring to not be armed.
She glanced at Maria. The cop watched the door, a scowl fixed on her face. Being a hostage probably wasn’t a familiar thing for the strong-willed AET lieutenant.
It wasn’t exactly like Shay’d had experience with being a hostage, but given that her day job involved everything from ghosts to demonic chickens, it was hard to get too worked up about anything less weird. This whole experience didn’t even make her top ten of potentially lethal ends.
Shay and Maria sat against the wall. They’d stopped talking. There wasn’t much point until the situation changed.
The door glowed, and the lock clicked. Two masked men entered. Both held guns.
“We need some information,” one of the men announced. “You resist, you die right here. Understand?”
I’m so gonna enjoy gutting you, asshole. You think you’re tough? You have no fucking idea what tough is. And that’s me. James will grind you into paste if he finds you.
Everyone nodded, including Shay.
The thug smiled. “Good. That makes this shit easy. None of you fuckers had your wallets on you.” The masked man glared at one of the guards. “Why not?”
The guard swallowed. “We’re not supposed to have anything in our pockets during our shift other than our access key cards. Mr. Preston was very insistent on that.”
Maria snorted. “Fucking pompous asshole,” she whispered under her breath. “This is his fault. Should have had more protection.”
The masked man spun toward Shay. “And what about you bitches? Why didn’t you have your purses and shit?”
The tomb raider kept her face neutral and shrugged. “Must have dropped them when we passed out from whatever it is that you guys did.”
The man nodded. “Okay, the next part is pretty damned simple. You’re all gonna give me your names. If you refuse, you die.” He pointed his gun at Shay. “Your name first. I don’t like the defiance I see in your eyes.”
“Zoe Davis.” The tomb raider offered the lie with ease.
You assholes think you can spook me? I’ve been faking my iden
tity for half my life. I have a whole annex filled with fake identities.
“And why the fuck were you at the museum, Zoe?”
“Because it had cool magical artifacts.” Shay shrugged. “That was kind of the point of the exhibit.”
His face twitched, and she wondered if she’d stepped over the line.
Fuck it. If I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die. I’m not cowering in front of some asshole lackey just because he has a gun.
The man snorted and turned toward Hall. “And you?”
“Consuela Ramirez,” the cop offered, not a hint of doubt on her face. “I’m a friend of Zoe’s. I’m not much for museums, but she convinced me to go. Let me just say, I’m really, really regretting that choice.”
She’s better at this than I thought. Good at lying and kicking ass. She might have made a good professional killer in another life.
The masked thug asked each of the guards the same question. The last of the three conscious guards offered the name of the unconscious wizard.
The interrogator turned to his friend. “Go ask if he gives a shit about any of these people.”
The other thug nodded and hurried out of the room.
Shay shifted slightly. This might be their chance to escape, but she wasn’t sure. It didn’t smell right. They could take out the single guard and get a weapon, but the other guard would be coming back soon, meaning a greater chance of the others being alerted.
The door flew open less than a minute after the other man had left.
The second masked thug frowned. “Leave them for now. One of the artifacts is acting strangely. The boss wants everyone out there in case something happens.”
The first thug snorted and shot a sneer at the hostages. “This shit isn’t over. We’ll be back soon, and some of you might be dead not long after that.”
One of the guards whimpered as both the thugs departed.
Shay and Maria exchanged glances. The situation finally smelled right.
The tomb raider leaned forward. “They’re distracted. I think we’ll have our chance soon. Get ready.”
Logan opened the nondescript box in the back of the van and frowned down at the circlet lying in the box in a sea of packing peanuts. The scent of burnt cardboard and Styrofoam filled his nostrils.
It made no sense. The artifact didn’t look any different than it had at the museum, but it was obvious that something was burning the area around it.
Maybe it’s switching on and off, but everything we were told said this thing was about messing with memories, not heating shit up.
Logan reached down to touch the circlet, and heat seared his fingertips. He jerked his hand back and shook it out.
“Why the fuck is it so hot? Did anyone do anything to it?”
Logan looked over his shoulder at his gathered men, and they all shrugged and shook their heads. He picked up the box and set it on the ground. Whatever was going on, he didn’t trust that it wouldn’t damage the van. They needed to get this shit under control.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Tak. Screw the video conferencing. The dwarf would have to deal.
“Tell me something useful,” Tak answered. “I don’t like my time being wasted.”
Better lead with the shit he wants to hear. That’ll make him less pissy about the other crap.
Logan rattled off the names of the hostages. “Any of those names mean anything to you? Just seem like guards and two random bitches to me. I don’t see any reason to keep them alive.”
“Hmm. No, those names are meaningless to me. They are expendable. Do whatever you feel is appropriate. Is that all?”
“No. Something weird is happening with the circlet.”
Tak let out an annoyed grunt. “Weird? Care to be a bit more specific? It’s a powerful magical artifact. ‘Weird’ could manifest in a lot of ways.”
“It’s hot as fuck all of a sudden. I tried to pick it up, and it burned my hand.” The sting from the light burn lingered.
“I see.” Tak offered a weary sigh. “Is it glowing? Has it changed colors? Is it shifting in and out of perceptible reality?”
Logan blinked. “No. Uh, not that I can tell.”
“Is it making any noise? Talking?”
“Talking?”
Tak snorted. “I don’t have time for you to be surprised. I just need you to answer the questions. Is it making any noise or talking?”
“Nope. Nothing like that.” Logan glanced back at the circlet. “Just hot. It’s burning the box and the packing peanuts. I’m kind of pissed, Tak. You told us we wouldn’t need any special containment gear, and now I’m wondering if I’m gonna end up with cancer.”
“You shouldn’t have needed any special gear or artifacts,” the dwarf snapped. “I researched this extensively.” He took a deep breath. “One moment. Let me check on something. Don’t hang up if you value your fingers.”
“Fine.”
Logan rolled his eyes at the phone. He hated working for the dwarf, but he couldn’t turn down the huge amount of money he’d offered.
Might as well take care of at least some of this shit while I’m waiting.
The criminal leader looked at his men and pointed with his free hand toward the hallway leading to the room where they were keeping the hostages. He made a throat-slicing gesture with his finger.
Should have just killed them all at the museum and saved ourselves the trouble.
One of the men nodded and jogged toward the room.
Logan peered at the circlet again, still surprised it wasn’t glowing. The box was starting to smoke, and the Styrofoam peanuts were melting.
“Shit, we’re gonna have to pull it out of that box before it starts a fucking fire.”
“Leave,” Tak shouted over the phone.
“What?” Logan responded, furrowing his brow in confusion. “Leave what?”
“Leave the warehouse right now, you imbecile. The heat. It’s a tracking resonance. Someone with access to strong magic is closing on your location.”
Logan gritted his teeth. “What the fuck?”
“If it’s that hot, they are very, very close. Take the loss on the circlet. If you’re moving, you can at least delay any other resonances until I can come up with a countermeasure. But move.”
“Damn it,” Logan shouted. “Everyone close up! Fucking leave, leave, leave! It’s time for the backup plan. Remember, you don’t stop for more than twenty fucking minutes.”
The men scrambled toward their respective vans, throwing open the doors and piling in the front and the back.
The remaining thug pointed at the box with the circlet. “What about that? That’s worth a lot of money.”
“Leave it. His orders.” Logan shook his head. “And money won’t do us any good if some angry Oriceran artifact collector blows us up with a fireball.”
He pulled out a remote and pressed a button. The grinding sound of metal echoed throughout the warehouse as the loading bay door started to rise.
I knew this shit was working out too well. Fuck.
Logan slammed the back doors shut on the van and hurried into the driver’s seat. The last thug hopped inside, and he started the vehicle. The engines of all five vans hummed.
Tires screeched as the vans peeled out the now open loading bay door. As each van hit the street, they alternated directions and then split off further until each vehicle was taking a different route away from the warehouse.
Logan blew out a breath.
Too damned close, but with the circlet there and all the men gone, we’ll be all right. No one will catch us. We’ve still got this.
He frowned. He felt like he was forgetting something, but what?
The thug glanced down the hallway over his shoulder as he made his way to the hostages. It had almost sounded like the vans were starting and people were shouting.
“Whatever. I’ll kill them and then go check.”
11
A thug whistled right outside the door, but Maria was far more conc
erned about the shouting and sounds of vehicles starting.
She frowned. “What the hell is all that noise? Wonder what’s going on?”
“It’s an opportunity to go to stage two of the plan.” Shay stood. “This is our chance. I need you to help me though. I need a step. Even your leg will do. I won’t have enough momentum in this tiny room to pull off what I’m planning otherwise, and without my hands I’m limited.”
The AET lieutenant stared at the other woman, not comprehending what she wanted. After a moment, she nodded. Shay must have needed something she could kick off, and the cop could provide that.
We’ll show that asshole why he shouldn’t be whistling while he works.
Maria knelt on one knee, bringing her other knee parallel to the ground.
The door glowed, and the lock clicked.
The sound of something rumbling in the distance echoed through the hallways. Squealing tires came next.
Seriously? What the fuck is going on?
The door opened, and an armed and masked thug entered.
Shay charged toward Maria, and the tomb raider leapt onto the cop’s leg and pushed off. She flew toward the wall and then kicked off that hard surface, turning in the air and clamping her legs around the thug’s head. With a quick shift off her body and legs, the tomb raider provided a nice example of the principle of conservation of momentum as she twisted and snapped the man’s neck.
Shit. It’s like killer parkour.
Shay released the man’s neck but landed on her knee against the hard floor with a grimace. Not smooth, but considering she’d just killed a man while handcuffed, her inelegance could be excused.
Maria arched an eyebrow. The conscious guards all stared at Shay, their mouths agape.
Shay kicked the gun under some boxes and rolled the guard’s body with her feet until he was away from the door. “The question now is whether we make a break for it or we wait it out.”
Maria nodded. “All that noise might be a rescue team.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t hear any shooting.” Shay frowned. If it were James, there was no way he wouldn’t be shooting everyone in sight. “We should go check it out, I think.”
One Bad Decision: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 10) Page 8