Hail To The King

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Hail To The King Page 10

by Michael Anderle


  James took several deep breaths and stared at the front door. He shrugged and knocked hard.

  “Fucking open up, Schwartz. You’ve got to have seen that all your traps didn’t kill me, so just give up and make this a lot easier on both of us. I’m already really pissed off here, and you don’t want to piss me off more. I’m not here for your ass. I’m just here for the plaque. Give it to me, and I walk away. I don’t give a fuck who you screw over after that.”

  Should I kick open the door or try to get in through a window? He’s going to blow me up either way. Or throw fucking acid on me. Or burn me. At least it hasn’t been magic so far. Fucker.

  “Fuck it. I want this day to be over.” James slammed his boot into the door. Wood splintered, and the door flew back.

  To his surprise, nothing exploded, poured acid on him, or set him on fire.

  “Come out, asshole,” he yelled. “This is over. You gave it your best shot, but I’m still fucking standing.”

  Again, no response.

  Damn you, Schwartz. You’re really pissing me off, asshole.

  A backpack sat against a wall opposite the front door. The furniture had been pushed against the walls.

  James stepped into the living room, frowning. He pulled out his gun.

  “You arrogant piece of shit,” yelled Schwartz’s voice from all around him. “I don’t care if you survived a few minor tricks. Now you’re going to face the ultimate power. I’ve been thinking about it ever since your little threat. The famous James Brownstone. Once I kill you, everyone will know how powerful I am.”

  “Better assholes than you have tried.”

  “Doubtful. It doesn’t matter. The end time is upon us, Brownstone. Chaos and madness. The collapse of civilization. Fools like you focus on the now instead of the future, but I’ve been focused on the future for years; ready, careful, and collecting what I need to survive.”

  “Is that what this is all about? You’re some sort of survivalist nutjob?”

  Schwartz scoffed. “I’m nothing of the sort. I’m a man of vision. A survivor.”

  James spun, his gun at the ready, seeking the man or a hint of the man. A shimmer or an unusual shadow, perhaps. Nothing. Big surprise; a paranoid asshole could hide.

  “Smite-Williams crying about losing his plaque. Pathetic. I once respected him, but now I see he’s weak like all of you. A fool.”

  “He’s not the one hiding from me.”

  “See the backpack, Brownstone?”

  James’ gaze flicked to the backpack. “Yeah. What about it? Does it have a bomb or something?”

  “Nothing like that. It contains the plaque. Kill me, and you can take it back to that pathetic old drunk. I won’t be able to stop you, after all.”

  “It doesn’t have to go down this way. How about I just take it and walk out of here? I’m not interested in you. I’m just interested in the artifact.”

  “But I’m interested in you.” Schwartz cackled. “You think you can walk out of here after insulting me? You thought your mere name and reputation would make me beg for your forgiveness. Screw you, Brownstone. I have the power here, not you.”

  James grunted. “You haven’t killed me yet, have you? I’m beginning to think you can’t do anything but ruin my clothes and piss me off, asshole, and you’ve really pissed me off. You’re lucky I’m even offering you this deal. If you’re so fucking tough, then stop hiding. Pussies hide. Men show themselves.”

  The amulet murmured in excitement, eager for the confrontation.

  Shadows pooled across the room and slid toward each other. James narrowed his eyes. The shadows flowed together and lifted from the floor, forming a white-suited man. A soft violet glow surrounded Schwartz’s body, and a huge golden pendant hung around his neck.

  James grunted. “Finally decided to stop hiding?”

  “No. I’ve decided to teach you a lesson, Brownstone, about arrogance. You don’t fear the future because you fear no man, and that’s a mistake. I understand fear, and that gives me power.”

  “You are one of the more annoying fucks I’ve run into in a long time. I almost think I prefer King Pyro’s rants to this shit.”

  Schwartz lifted his hands. He wore thick leather gloves covered in runes. One glove was white, the other black. “I’ll make this easy for you, Brownstone. Go ahead and put on the backpack. I won’t attack you until you do. Once you pick it up, I’ll humble you by taking your life.”

  “We’ll see about that.” James squeezed off several shots.

  Schwartz smirked as the bullets bounced off him. “A gun? Pathetic.” He nodded toward the backpack. “Or you can run. I’ll accept that, too. Go ahead, Brownstone. Tuck your tail between your legs and run away. I won’t promise I won’t kill you, but if you run fast enough, you might be able to escape with your life.”

  The bounty hunter holstered his pistol, flipped the man off, and walked over to the backpack. “Not impressed. Plenty of assholes are bulletproof.” He grabbed the backpack and slipped it over his shoulders. “That protection from the pendant?”

  “Yes. Too bad you can’t get it off. You stand no chance.”

  James lifted his hand and concentrated. The amulet enhanced his barely-there telekinesis. He avoided the power because it didn’t seem all that useful in most firefights, but maybe it’d help.

  The pendant didn’t budge. Of course.

  Schwartz frowned. “What are you trying, Brownstone? Some little trick? You don’t understand how many artifacts I have on me right now, and how many I’ve activated. The potions I’ve drunk. Whatever pathetic magic you’ve begged from Smite-Williams won’t help you here. You’re at my mercy. I am your god.”

  James dropped his hand and shrugged. “It was worth a shot.” He whipped out a throwing knife and sent it straight toward the man’s head, but it bounced off like the bullets before.

  “I’ve got to say, you’re a bit of a disappointment.” Schwartz shrugged.

  He lifted his white glove and snapped his fingers, and a purple sphere of energy winked into existence and flew toward James. The ball slammed into him, knocking him halfway across the room. The sizzle of his flesh filled his nose.

  He hissed as he landed on the burned flesh of his chest. His harness fell off, and he grabbed the healing potion out of the pouch and stuck in his pocket.

  “Nothing,” Schwartz ranted. “Weak. Pathetic.”

  “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” James stood and shook his head. “Guess I’m gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

  “Now you die.” Schwartz snapped his fingers again.

  Another blast tore into James. He grunted at the impact, but this time it only stung.

  The amulet’s excited whispers increased.

  The smile fell from Schwartz’s face. “What? How are you still standing?”

  James grinned despite the pain in his chest. “Got to say, Schwartz, you’re a bit of a disappointment. That was your big surprise? You should have killed me when you had the chance. Everyone gets one chance to kill me, but after that I make no promises. Now it’s my turn.”

  The bounty hunter charged Schwartz. The other man flicked the wrist of the hand wearing the black glove. A blue energy blade popped into existence and sliced James’ arm. He growled as his blood sprayed across the floor.

  “Fuck.”

  Schwartz sliced at James with another blue energy blade. Pain jolted through the bounty hunter’s body, but there was no new wound. “You won’t win, Brownstone. You can’t win against me. I’m better than you. Smarter. I see reality. You see only false hope.”

  “I’ve had enough of your shit.” James rose with an uppercut. His fist slammed into Schwartz, and the white-suited man flew backward with a yelp. He crashed to the ground, rolling several times before stopping. “You’re a pretty pathetic god, Schwartz.”

  Schwartz wiped blood off his mouth and stood. “If I hadn’t been wearing the pendant that would have killed me.” He glared at James. “A lucky hit, but yo
u haven’t won.”

  “That was the point, asshole. You wanted to convince me that you were a tough guy.” James gritted his teeth at the spreading ache in his arm. “You win. I’m convinced. So now I’m gonna beat you down like I do tough guys. Your survival isn’t guaranteed, though. Sorry about that, asshole.”

  “You’re just a bounty hunter. You can’t beat me.”

  James ignored the pain and rushed Schwartz again. His fists flew. Left. Right. Right. Left. The other man jerked under the powerful blows. The bounty hunter finished with an elbow to the man’s face.

  Schwartz flew backward, crashing into and embedding in the living room wall with a groan. His face was battered, and his nose askew.

  The amulet murmured something in James’ mind. Mockery, James thought.

  Not impressed with the competition?

  James shook out his fists. “Thought you were gonna tear me apart atom by atom, asshole. Where’s all that tough shit now? I was expecting the world’s greatest badass, but instead, I got some survivalist asshole with delusions of grandeur.”

  The other man fell to his knees, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. He spat out blood and teeth. “I’ll fucking kill you, Brownstone. I will make your death slow and painful.”

  “You know how many times I’ve heard that? All you’ve managed is to kill my clothes, fucker.” James grinned. A little cockiness was almost as good as a painkiller. “I’m pissed about the boots, though.”

  Schwartz reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ring. “You haven’t won, Brownstone.” He slipped on the ring and stood, his eyes wide and a crooked smile on his face. He ran toward the hallway.

  “You’re fucking trying to escape now?” James shook his head and jogged after him.

  The hallway led to the master bedroom. Small gold, silver, and bone figurines of animals covered a king-sized bed.

  Schwartz ran to the corner of the room and turned around.

  James stopped in the doorway. Maybe there were more traps.

  “Got nowhere to run now, asshole.”

  “You’re not going to win, Brownstone. Even if I die, I’ll be famous as long as I take you with me.”

  “Is that what you want? To be famous? I thought you wanted to survive.”

  Schwartz tilted his head, his eyes unfocused. “Killing you will make the world a better place. You’re too dangerous to live.”

  James snorted. “You know what? Fuck this. Why am I even bothering?”

  “Fuck this?”

  “Yeah. Fuck this.” James patted the backpack. “I’ve got what I came here for, and I’ve busted you up. Stay the fuck away from the Professor unless you want me to finish you off, asshole.” He turned on his heel and headed down the hallway.

  “Don’t turn your back on me when I’m talking to you, Brownstone,” Schwartz shrieked.

  James held up his middle finger as a response. “Fuck you.”

  “Die,” Schwartz shrieked.

  A gold, silver, and bone figurine blinked into existence a few feet in front of James.

  “What the fuck?”

  The gold one exploded first, knocking James back. The silver figurine then blasted out a sphere of blue-white energy. The bone figurine vanished and released a wave of orange energy that hit the bounty hunter before he’d even landed.

  Agony shot through James, and more explosions shook the house. The amulet shouted in his mind, a mixture of excitement and fear. It was enjoying him being blown up three different ways.

  Wood, metal, and plastic fragments coated James. Another series of explosions launched him into the air. The pain clouded his mind, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

  The amulet grew silent, intrigued but frightened. Learning. That’s what it was doing. Learning quickly about so many new forms of magic.

  A massive blast wave slammed into the bounty hunter. He tumbled through the air, his skin sizzling and every nerve on fire. James slammed into the ground in agony. He forced his trembling hand into his pocket and grabbed his last healing potion.

  Darkness ate at the edge of his vision, but he unstopped the bottle and downed the liquid.

  The darkness overtook him and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

  12

  “Been a nice few days,” Trey announced from the middle of the living room. The rest of the boys were sitting on couches or chairs in the loft’s living room. “We’ve had some good catches. Made some nice money. I wasn’t sure about this new flexible schedule compared to what we were using before, but y’all have made me a believer, and I’m sure the big man will be.”

  Shorty laughed. “I don’t give a shit about kicking ass either here or LA. I just like kicking ass and making money.”

  “We are badass,” Deshawn declared.

  “We are Brownstone badass,” Travis added.

  Manuel and the others nodded their agreement.

  Trey grinned. “Damned right. We’ve got one more job tonight, then we’ll head back. Should be easy.” He stared at Shorty. “It’s gonna be a chick. We shouldn’t have to get rough, though. She’s level two. She’s a con artist. Only thinks she’s so high because she conned some rich assholes. You gonna be okay with that?”

  Shorty shrugged. “I’m fine, Trey. I shot at that witch earlier. Let’s just bag this bitch, get our money, and head back.”

  Trey nodded. “You done good, boys. You done good.”

  Upping their game to multiple twos and threes in rapid succession had helped the money flow in, and the fact the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department was shoving bounties at them only helped. Even with splitting the bounty, giving James his cut, and paying for expenses, the Las Vegas trip had been damned profitable. Way more profitable than their best days on the street as gang members.

  This shit’s nice. Really nice.

  Trey shook his head and headed toward the kitchen. He had time to grab a little snack before they went after their last bounty. It wouldn’t be their first woman, and the last few had surrendered without much of a fight.

  Would Victoria surrender without a fight if we had a bounty on her?

  Trey stopped and frowned.

  I’m fucking chewing Shorty out for getting distracted by some hot ass, but now I’m thinking about some witch who was this close to blowing me across an alley?

  Trey snorted. It used to be he worried about Demon Generals killing his boys or attacking his family. Now he was worried about beautiful witches who hadn’t even tried to kill him.

  Yeah, this ain’t a bad life. Talk about your first-world problems.

  He continued toward the kitchen. Maybe he’d get lucky and run into Victoria again.

  Darkness surrounded James. Without either the Devil or Jesus in sight, he was probably not dead yet. At least he hoped not.

  I’m just dreaming. Have to be.

  A woman’s voice intruded in his thoughts.

  “You’re a dumbass, Brownstone. A tough dumbass, but still a dumbass. You have the Devil’s own luck.”

  Yeah. Probably.

  It wasn’t Shay’s voice. It was Lieutenant Hall’s.

  What the fuck? Why am I dreaming about another woman? If Shay finds out, she’ll gut me.

  “Wake the fuck up, Brownstone,” Lieutenant Hall demanded. “You’re breathing and you don’t seem to be hurt, even if your clothes are torn up. Magical shit, I’m assuming.”

  James’ eyes snapped open to find an armored but helmet-free Lieutenant Hall staring down at him, a huge frown on her face.

  “Do I need to find your girlfriend, Brownstone?”

  He shook his head and sat up. “No. I don’t need my ass kicked again.” Despite his shredded and burned clothes, he was in no pain. The potion had done its job. There was enough of his shirt left to conceal his amulet, and the blood, dust, and general grime of the battle helped hide the lines radiating from the amulet to the rest of his chest.

  Should have brought an energy potion. Fucking exhausted.

  James
stood and took in his surroundings. AET and regular officers covered the area, most surrounding the charred crater where Schwartz’s house had been. Men in radiation suits stood in the crater, waving Geiger counters and other instruments around.

  Lieutenant Hall pointed toward the crater. “That’s new. Start talking. The only reason I’m not completely pissed off is that you didn’t do this shit anywhere near town.”

  James reached to his back. The backpack was still there. He unzipped and pulled out the golden plaque. He let out a sigh of relief.

  “I don’t have any fucking idea what that is,” Lieutenant Hall snapped. “Or what it has to do with the large crater over there.”

  “Something for a friend.” James put the plaque back into the backpack. “I was asked to pick it up. An asshole had taken it from him, and I thought it’d be a simple show-up-and-growl-type job. Things got…complicated.”

  “Complicated?”

  James shrugged. “This asshole was a paranoid, crazy motherfucker who decided he’d rather blow me the fuck up, even after I got what I wanted and said I was leaving. He had a buttload of artifacts, too.”

  Lieutenant Hall let out a long sigh. “I want to believe you, Brownstone. I really do. But I’m not sure how. Right now all I have is you, a crater, and a lot of unusual magical activity. Considering how much blood you’re covered with without any wounds, you were either using healing magic, or you cut someone up, and they never had a chance. I don’t know if I can just let you walk.”

  James frowned. “My phone. Give me my phone, and I can prove it.”

  “Weber,” Lieutenant Hall shouted. “You got Brownstone’s phone from his truck, right?”

  “Yeah,” the sergeant called from a few yards away. He was holding a plastic bag with James’ phone. He hurried over to hand the bag to James.

  “You broke into my truck?” James asked, trying to keep the growl out of his voice.

  Even the cops can’t fucking touch my truck.

  “Don’t worry, we didn’t break anything.” Lieutenant Hall shrugged. “We thought you were dead until Weber saw you were breathing. We were collecting evidence. So you have your phone. What’s that have to do with proof?”

 

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