Power Mage 4

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Power Mage 4 Page 8

by Hondo Jinx


  Otis took a step back, returned the cuffs to his belt, and put his hand on the butt of his pistol. “Don’t do this, Brawley. You’re resisting arrest. If you force me to pull this thing—”

  “You pull that thing, and I’ll knock you into the middle of next week, you cowardly son of a bitch.”

  Behind Brawley, the bar door banged open.

  Then everything happened very quickly.

  Otis backpedaled, creating space, and started to pull his sidearm.

  In that same instant, Brawley heard his name, registered the voices of his women coming outside, and made an instantaneous decision. No way was he going to risk this squirrelly bastard Otis accidentally shooting one of his girls.

  So before Otis could even clear his holster, Brawley was on him. He stiff-armed Otis in the chest, knocking him back into the cruiser and jarring him to a stop. A shot to the chest will do that, freeze a guy for half a second. And that’s all the time Brawley needed. Moving with Carnal speed, he spun Otis around, jerked his arms back, ripped the cuffs from his belt, and snapped them around Otis’s wrists.

  “The hell’s gotten into you, Otis?” Brawley said, resisting the urge to bounce the deputy’s head off the top of the cruiser a few times.

  “Holy shit!” Tanner and Sean boomed in unison.

  Remi roared with laughter.

  “Don’t hurt him, babe,” Nina suggested calmly.

  It was Sage’s voice, however, that resonated. “Officer Otis Dale,” she said, her voice clear and crisp and thrumming with authority. “What an unfortunate misunderstanding. Thank goodness everything is all right. You did what you had to do, and Brawley didn’t do anything wrong. Husband, release him now. He understands that we are his friends and that this situation really wasn’t what he originally thought it was.”

  “Huh?” Otis said.

  Using a bit of Seeker juice, Brawley located the handcuff key. He fished it from Otis’s pocket and unlocked the cuffs.

  Otis reattached the cuffs to his belt and looked back and forth between Brawley and his women, blinking like a newborn calf.

  By now, people were coming out of the bar to see what all the commotion was about. But Sage smiled prettily, spoke a few sentences, and they all relaxed and went back inside laughing nonchalantly.

  Then she turned her formidable Seeker force back on Otis.

  Two minutes later, the deputy was convinced that he had cuffed and stuffed Brawley, who had been cooperative, answering questions and expressing remorse. Then Otis had let Brawley off with a stern warning and brought him back here. There were, of course, no hard feelings.

  As Otis’s cruiser pulled away, Tanner said, “What the hell just happened?”

  Sage glanced at Brawley and arched a golden eyebrow.

  Brawley nodded. He hated like hell to Seeker his friends, but it was the only way forward right now.

  “Everything is okay,” Sage said, smiling as she touched Tanner and Sean’s shoulders. “For a moment, things seemed tense and unusual, but…”

  A few minutes later, everything was smoothed over, and everyone got on with their business.

  In the RV, Brawley said, “I could’ve killed that son of a bitch.” He wasn’t much for complaining, but injustice cut deep. And since Otis knew him, that shit bordered on out and out betrayal.

  “He’s scared,” Remi said. “Cherry’s got a hold over him. That much is clear.”

  “It’s more than that,” Sage said. “Otis was Seekered.”

  “Yeah, he was,” Nina laughed. “Gotta admit it, sis, that was pretty darn impressive.”

  “Thank you,” Sage said, and squinched her glasses up the bridge of her nose, “but I was not referring to my clean-up work. Otis had been manipulated prior to his arrival at the drinking establishment.”

  “Really?” Brawley said. “I was so damn mad, I didn’t notice.”

  “It was subtle, husband. Someone—Cherry or one of his assignees, I presume—infused Otis with the notion that bringing you into the station was of upmost importance. As Otis approached, I could feel this notion warring with his values.”

  Brawley nodded. That explained Otis’s actions. “I’ll tell you something else. Not about Otis. About Blanton Cherry’s crew. Those sons of bitches were cloaked.”

  Sage agreed. Her scan had also failed to reveal any information.

  Brawley told them about his suspicion that Cherry had Seekered him in the widow’s driveway. “I wondered, but it was a subtle trick he played. The man has a deft touch.”

  “We will all regard Blanton Cherry and his crew with stubborn skepticism,” Sage announced.

  “Did you just Seeker us?” Nina asked.

  Sage nodded. “Enhanced skepticism should provide a degree of protection in case we run into Mr. Cherry.”

  Brawley nodded, figuring Sage’s trick would protect them unless Cherry opened up his strand and gave them both barrels. Otherwise, the skepticism she’d wired into them would buy a few seconds of action.

  “There’s something I don’t understand,” Nina said. “Cherry’s men were fuggles, right? They seemed like fuggles. And nobody tried anything psionic.”

  “Psionic or otherwise,” Sage said, “they were cloaked.”

  “Why, though?” Frankie said, picking up on Nina’s point. “I mean, what would be the point?” Of all the women, Frankie had been most rattled by the fight. But she had bounced back, and that pretty mouth of hers was pitching dimples again.

  “People cloak fuggles,” Remi said, and turned to Nina. “You know Danny Wong?”

  Nina scowled. “That asshole conned me out of twenty bucks.”

  Remi nodded. “You and everybody else in Key West. He got into trouble, jumped bail, and cloaked his fuggle buddies in case I grilled them. Didn’t do him any good, though. I had slapped a bug on his bicycle when I signed his bond. Dumbass.”

  “But why would Cherry cloak his crew?” Frankie persisted.

  “Hard to say,” Brawley said, “but the man obviously has something to hide, and I aim to find out what.”

  “I advise caution, husband,” Sage said. “Blanton Cherry might deduce that we are psi mages. That would be unfortunate, given our current situation.”

  “I hear you, darlin,” Brawley said. “But I reckon I kicked the hornet’s nest tonight. We’ll see how Cherry responds.”

  11

  Back at the ranch, they passed Brawley’s parents’ place. All was dark save for a little light up in their bedroom. That would be Mama reading.

  The dogs popped up and trotted after the RV, trailing them for the quarter mile of rough road to Brawley’s trailer and its cluster of outbuildings.

  Stepping from the RV, Nina remarked on the beautiful night. Here, far from town, the sky was huge and full of stars.

  Brawley drew his lungs full of the good smells of home.

  Appearing beside him, Sage said, “Tomorrow, I would like to analyze the ranch and see if we might improve your father’s profit margins.”

  Brawley grinned at that. His dad was hard as granite but not quite as flexible. Pa was tradition itself all dressed up in boots and dungarees. “Good luck with that, darlin.”

  “Thank you, husband,” Sage said cheerily.

  Callie stretched impressively and glanced out toward the barn and beyond. Then she started stripping out of her clothes.

  Brawley grew hard as his newest wife unveiled her lean nakedness.

  But Callie wasn’t trying to seduce him. She had other plans. “I need to shift and go hunting.”

  And just like that, she collapsed into herself and was a calico cat.

  “I’m sorry,” Nina said, “but that is the freakiest shit I’ve ever seen.”

  “You be careful out there,” Brawley told the scrawny little cat rubbing up against him. “This is West Texas, not Key West. Don’t let a coyote get you.”

  Or, he thought, the tiger that killed that steer. And he realized that he needed to tell them.

  The women were none to
o pleased by this latest mystery, but they held it together. Remarkably well, in fact.

  Sage and Brawley reached out with their Seeker senses, sniffing the range and the near future for trouble.

  All was quiet on the West Texas front.

  A second later, the calico cat was gone, replaced by Callie’s hot yet menacing cat girl form. Her huge amber eyes gleamed dangerously. Her jaws opened to display deadly looking teeth, and she flexed her fingers, out of which popped sharp claws. “I should be all right,” she purred. “Besides, us Beasties can sense other animals from a distance.”

  “I stand corrected,” Nina said. “That is the freakiest shit I’ve ever seen.”

  “I’ll miss you,” Callie said, rubbing up against Brawley. Her fur was warm and soft on his bare arm. “Aren’t you dying to shift and go thundering across the plains?”

  Brawley nodded. “Actually, I do feel rammier than hell.”

  “Your bison wants out,” Callie said.

  “You mean super bison,” Remi said. “You don’t think I’d marry just any old buffalo.”

  “I’m still shocked he isn’t a stork,” Nina said, drifting inside.

  Callie returned to full cat form and skittered off past the old barn.

  Frankie craned her neck, not at the vanishing cat girl but the barn itself. “So is that where I’ll work?”

  Brawley nodded.

  “Mind giving me a quick tour?” the lovely Gearhead asked.

  “Sure,” Brawley said.

  “I’ll come with you,” Remi said. “As a chaperone. So Frankie can’t take advantage of you.”

  Frankie laughed and rolled her bright green eyes.

  Brawley led them toward the old barn. Back in the day, there had been another farmhouse here, but it had burned in the ‘40s, and there hadn’t been money to rebuild.

  That’s going to change, Brawley thought.

  The double-wide was fine for now, but he aimed to build his family a proper house with plenty of room for little ones. Besides, if Hazel, Tammy, and Tammy’s kids did join them, things would be awful tight in the trailer.

  Also, Nina was worried about her dad and brother and even her stepmom. And Brawley had a suspicion that others might be joining them soon.

  Regardless, he wanted to build a solid place for his people. Beyond that, he needed to set up defenses. Because sooner or later, somebody would come for them. And he didn’t figure on getting caught with his pants down. Old Carlos down at the gun shop was about to have a record month on ammo sales.

  “This could work,” Frankie said inside the old barn. Most of the space was lost to darkness. The only light was provided by shafts of moonlight falling through the door and dusty windows.

  “It’s all yours,” Brawley said. “We haven’t really used it for years. I just park the RV in there when we get a big dust storm.”

  “A haboob?” Frankie said, a playful smile lighting her face.

  “Oh, don’t you start, too,” Remi groaned. “Nina’s going all in for Texas.”

  “Ain’t nothing wrong with that, darlin,” Brawley said. “There’s a lot to love about this place.”

  “I see that,” Remi said, “but if I start saying stuff like haboob, somebody shoot me.” Turning to Brawley, she said, “Figuratively speaking, handsome. Not for real. That shit hurt.”

  Frankie stared at Brawley in disbelief. “You shot Remi?”

  Brawley shrugged. “We didn’t start off on the best of terms.”

  Remi filled the dark barn with laughter.

  Frankie looked at them like they were crazy. “I don’t even want to know.”

  Then Frankie held up her phone, brought the flashlight to life with her mind, and panned the bright beam across the space. “I’ll hook up electricity tomorrow.” She pointed to a kerosene lantern hanging from a post peg. “That thing work? I’d like to get started on that FPI psionic detector tonight.”

  Brawley took the lantern from its peg and handed it to Frankie. “Just don’t knock it over, darlin. This old tinder box would go up faster than a rocket ship.”

  “I won’t burn your barn down,” Frankie laughed. Having her own workspace, even one this far gone, had clearly invigorated the Gearhead. Her eyes shone brightly.

  They left her to it.

  Brawley and Remi unloaded the mattresses they’d gotten from Sean and carted them inside, where the other girls started putting on the silk sheets they had talked Brawley into buying.

  Women, he thought, watching them work.

  Remi snagged his arm and guided him back outside. Her dark eyes twinkled playfully with starshine. “Come on, handsome. You said you were rammy. Let’s go for a run. Isn’t your body aching for exercise?”

  Brawley nodded. “As matter of fact, it is. I don’t know how much of it is my Carnal strand, how much is my bison, and how much is just sitting so much, but my body wants to move. No way I could sleep now.”

  “We don’t need to sleep, my love,” Remi said, sidling up next to him and slipping an arm around his waist. “Oh, I’ll sleep an hour or two a night. Even longer if some smartass shoots me.” She gave him a hip bump. “But we Carnals don’t need much sleep. I’ll teach you a few tricks, and unless you’re down serious points, you’ll get by on an hour a day.”

  “Sounds good to me, darlin,” he said, and glanced toward the house. He could hear Nina laughing inside.

  Remi pulled him in the other direction. “You go in there, those girls will try to fuck you.”

  Brawley laughed. “Heaven forbid.”

  “If you’re horny, we can fuck, too,” Remi said. “But come on. Let’s run. If they wonder about you, Sage will figure out where you are.”

  Brawley shrugged. “All right. Let’s run.”

  “And let’s do it right,” Remi said, peeling off her tank top and revealing her perfect breasts and sinuous, heavily tattooed torso. “Naked to the world.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, darlin,” Brawley said with a grin, and started pulling off his cowboy boots.

  Remi barked wild laughter, and they charged off across the range beneath the open sky. Moonlight bathed their naked bodies. Faster and faster they ran, hurtling through the night, opening their Carnal strands wide and streaking over the hard ground with superhuman speed, laughing as they leapt shadowy mesquite bushes.

  Every fiber, every cell of Brawley’s body crackled with vitality.

  When he stepped on a cactus, Remi plucked the spines from his flesh.

  “Concentrate on the sole of your foot and make it hard. And speaking of hard,” she said, glancing at his manhood, which hung girthy and half-hard between his legs, “hold that thought, handsome.”

  “Talk about a bait and switch,” Brawley joked. “I was told there would be fucking.”

  “Oh, there will be fucking,” Remi said, popping to her feet. “Epic fucking. But I want to fuck on top of that.”

  She pointed across the moonlit range to a broad flat-topped ridge in the distance.

  “Out here on the range, your eyes will fool you,” Brawley said. “That’s a long way off. Why don’t I give you a ride?”

  He stepped back and shifted. Again, the transformation was strange and painful but also euphoric, and this time it took only a few seconds.

  With his massive body coursing with power, Brawley snorted down at the naked woman staring up at him.

  “You still in there, handsome?” Remi said, her voice cautious.

  He nodded his great head, digging the weight of his thick, wide horns.

  Suddenly, Remi seemed tiny. Which made sense, of course. He released a squeeze of Seeker juice and verified Sage’s claims.

  He was the resurrection of Bison latifrons, a giant bison out of the Pleistocene Epoch. Over 20,000 years ago, the last of his kind had died off during the ice age.

  But Brawley wasn’t just a giant bison. His inner beast was the reincarnation of the largest, most powerful specimen to ever walk the earth.

  Standing nine feet, three in
ches tall and weighing over five thousand pounds, he was twice the size of a modern bison. He could feel the big buffalo hump above his shoulders and knew his face and head were shaped much like those of his descendants—with one remarkable exception. His horns were thick and strong and stretched to a width of eight feet, where they curved forward to menace the world with their sharp tips.

  “You still want me to ride you?” Remi asked, a surprising tremor in her voice, the fearless bounty hunter revealing a degree of trepidation.

  This was going to be fun.

  Brawley snorted and nodded again, then lowered to the ground.

  “Oh shit,” Remi said, climbing onto his humped back. “This is crazy.”

  She gave a little yelp when he rose to his feet. Remi was light as a flea upon his great back.

  Thinking of the arena, he whipped his head sideways, gave a sharp snort, and released a thick arc of glorious bull snot.

  If only his bull rider friends could see him now. The only thing cooler than a blast of bull snot was the gold buckle itself. He stamped a hoof into the earth.

  “Whoa there, big fella,” Remi said. Her hands plunged into his fur, gripping hard. “You still with me, Brawley?”

  He nodded again.

  “Good. Don’t you go full bison and forget that I’m—hey!”

  Brawley shot across the range in a one-bison stampede. His massive hooves smashed the ground as he charged toward the low plateau where he would fuck the beautiful woman clinging to his back.

  Remi whooped choppily, sounding like a cowgirl on the world’s bumpiest rollercoaster.

  This was joy. Brawley thundered over the ground, one with the king of all bulls, alive again after all these many millennia, his powerful Bestial muscles supercharged with Carnal force.

  They covered the distance in a jolting flash. Brawley didn’t even slow when they hit the steep slope. His great hooves churned, digging into the loose scree, and his huge muscles pitched them up and up and up until they broke onto the flat plain that was the apex of the plateau.

  He lurched to a stop and did a slow 360, panning his gaze across the vast, moonlit vista, taking in the mountains to the south, the limits of his family ranch and the world beyond.

 

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