Book Read Free

The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus

Page 21

by Michael Anderle


  Nah, this isn’t a date. It’s something else. Maybe she just wants to talk about Dannec or some shit.

  But that doesn’t make any sense. If she did, we could just talk in my office.

  Tyler groaned. It was a date.

  Shit. How does this work? Am I supposed to pay, or does she? She’s the one who asked me out. Fuck, that place is expensive. Maybe we’ll split the bill?

  Tyler shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. He couldn’t go on a date with her. It wasn’t that Maria wasn’t good enough. She had a good head on her shoulders and a hot athletic body even if he didn’t get to see it on display under her uniform. Even if she’d fallen off the Brownstone hate train, she’d at least understood where Tyler was coming from before, which meant she understood him on some level.

  No, I can’t do this. Date a cop? Even if she’s playing fast and loose with Dannec, she’s still a cop, and this shit will end badly. She’ll start thinking I’m a piece of shit and stop enforcing the neutrality at the Black Sun. Then I’m fucked.

  He groaned and ran his hands through his hair. Several nearby patrons glanced at him with confused looks on their faces.

  “What the fuck is wrong?” he shouted. “Never seen an annoyed man before? Drink your fucking booze and look somewhere else.”

  They returned their attention to their drinks, several cursing under their breath.

  It’s just a date. It’s not like she said she wants to marry my ass or fuck me. I can do this. I should do this.

  Tyler forced himself to his feet. “How can I be an info broker if I don’t know the info and have the contacts?” he muttered to himself. “If I turn her down, she’s going to be pissed with me.”

  The words came out of his mouth and he believed them, but the dread pricking his stomach and heart wouldn’t leave.

  Sergeant Weber was finishing up a report when Matthews strolled up to his desk. The AET officer looked around before leaning toward Weber.

  “What the fuck is up with Hall?” Matthews whispered, resting his arm, palm-down, on Weber’s desk. “You’re practically her secretary, so you should know.”

  The sergeant looked up from his computer. “Huh? What do you mean? She seems fine to me, and I’ve been getting her coffee all day.”

  “She’s also been smirking all day like she knows some shit we don’t know. Something obviously happened last night.” Matthews winked. “Come on, we both know the only time she’s that happy is when she’s ready to drop the boom on someone. I’m not sure who’s in the shitter, but it’s got to be someone, and I’m just hoping it’s no one on the team.” A chuckle and a huge grin followed.

  Weber shook his head. “She’s happy with how everything went down with those Drow. Hell, she’s even happy with Brownstone, and he’s been the target of her hate for a while now.” He swiveled his chair to face the other man. “Look, she thought the captain and the mayor were going to ride her ass about getting the National Guard involved, but they both went off about how she showed great initiative, and as far as I know, the consulate had been helping her track the guys. All the brass are happy, so why wouldn’t she be?” He shrugged.

  Matthews frowned. “Then what is it?” He stood up straight and crossed his arms.

  The sergeant shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe she has a date.”

  They stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into loud laughter.

  Matthews slapped his knee. “Yeah, whatever. The only thing the Lieutenant would ever date is a railgun.”

  Charlyce whistled to herself as she folded clothes on the couch. There was nothing like fresh-from-the-dryer clothes: nice warmth and good smell. She wished she could do more for the orphans that day than help with their laundry, but Father McCartney had stressed to her that everything she was doing was helpful.

  I’m useful. I was useful to no one for so many years, and now Trey needs me. The kids need me.

  Father McCartney strolled into the room with a broad smile on his face and his phone in his hand.

  Charlyce finished folding a small green shirt and placed it on a pile before looking at the priest. “You look happy, Father.”

  The priest shrugged. “It’s always helpful to be reminded of the goodness of people. Your weekly assistance is a continuing example of that, as are donations. Our anonymous donor has struck again with a particularly large donation.” He held up the phone for a few seconds before pocketing it. “He just let me know. Or maybe she. I don’t know their true identity.”

  “That’s wonderful to hear.” Charlyce let out a contented sigh and shook her head. “I wonder if it’s an orphan who has fond memories of this place.”

  “Perhaps.” Father McCartney furrowed his brow, then shrugged. “I thought it might be James, and he has donated a lot of money to this place, but when I asked him about it he pointed out that he has no reason to hide donations.”

  Charlyce nodded. “I don’t see why Mr. Brownstone would hide like that.” She grabbed her purse from the small table in front of her and fished out five twenties.

  She stood and offered the money, but looked down at the ground. “I know that it’s not as much as Mr. Brownstones gives or the other donor, but I want to do my part. Not just by being here, but helping you, just like you’re helping all the kids here.”

  Father McCartney accepted the money with a warm smile and took a few steps back. “You misunderstand the value of donations, Charlyce.”

  She sighed and sat back down. “I know. This money ain’t worth much. It’s an insult to what you’re doing.”

  “No, no, no. Not at all.” The priest waved a hand. “A wealthy man who gives soup to another sacrifices little, unlike a man who is half-starving. It isn’t the size of a gift that’s important, but the heart of the person who gives it.” He pointed to his heart. “The heart of the man who gives a large check is no better and no worse than yours. You’re both giving us what you can afford, and I appreciate the electricity, water, or food your donation will provide us.”

  Charlyce lifted her head, her smile returning. “Thank you for your kind words, Father, but I still don’t know. I’ve been taking a Currus here. I could be spending that money on the kids.”

  “You have to get here somehow, and a minor luxury for a woman spending most of her free time volunteering isn’t outrageous, even by the standards of a priest. You’re not a nun, Charlyce.”

  “I ain’t even Catholic.” She laughed.

  Father McCartney chuckled. “No one’s perfect except our Lord. Just know that all your contributions here are valued.” He glanced at the clock, and his smile faded. “I have to go give someone a call, so I’ll talk to you later.”

  “See you around, Father.” Charlyce waved.

  The priest offered her a final nod before continuing out of the room.

  Charlyce returned to the couch.

  Meaning. That was what her life had lacked before, and now she had more family, friends, and people to protect.

  Thank you, Lord, for giving me this second chance.

  The consul sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The king wanted an answer, and diplomatic dissembling wouldn’t work.

  Damned Drow. Why couldn’t you have just listened? Your arrogance will lead to suffering for all of us, you fools.

  The Light Elf cleared his throat and looked at the image of his King sitting at an ornate desk on Oriceran hanging in the air. “Your Highness, this latest incident concerns me. I was able to cover up the Drow’s previous rabblerousing, but there was no way I was going to be able to do it this time.”

  “Which was why you provided information to the human authorities?” The king’s face remained impassive, but his crossed arms and rigid posture said enough.

  The consul took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I don’t regret any of that, and the Drow’s subsequent actions only proved how dangerous they were. Going after this Brownstone was one thing, but opening far-dimensional portals?” He shook his head. “I suspect ev
ery magical being in this region felt what they did.”

  “Laena has gone too far,” the king replied, his face tight. He uncrossed his arms. “She’s pushed well past any acceptable lines with her efforts.”

  The consul nodded. “So how are we to react to these provocations?” He relaxed his fists, having not even realized he’d clenched them.

  “Remember, we shouldn’t be like the Drow, hasty and foolish.” The king looked to the side and sighed.

  “What do you mean? This deserves an answer.” He gestured around him. “If we do nothing they will think they can get away with anything, and more incidents will follow, Your Highness. More people will die, and the human authorities will begin to blame others, maybe even us. The situation is tenuous enough as it is.” His fingers threatened to curl into fists again, but he resisted.

  The king shook his head. “We must think long-term, not short-term. Yes, you’re right. The situation between Earth and Oriceran is precarious enough as it is, and that’s before any of the more disturbing aspects of what the Seer’s Quatrains imply about our world are considered. Still, we can’t risk starting a war with the Drow.”

  The consul let out another weary sigh. “I’d say they are the ones starting a war.”

  The king shook his head. “No, they are launching foolish attacks, and these foolish attacks have cost them their lives, for the most part. I’m content to give Laena a small amount of time to consider the implications of her failures. She might be ruthless and arrogant, but she’s far from foolish.” He stood.

  “Are you sure, Your Highness?” The consul placed his arms behind his back, to give them something to do that wouldn’t betray his nervousness to the king.

  The king nodded gravely. “If we war against the Drow it’ll come to Earth, and if the war lands on Earth, we might as well blow up our planet ourselves.”

  “I can see your wisdom in this, but I still feel we should do something.”

  “And what would you suggest?” The king arched a brow.

  The consul dipped his head for a moment in thought. “At the minimum, Laena should be made aware that we’re watching her. That might constrain the Drow’s future actions.” He looked back up. “Since she’s no longer here, perhaps someone on the Oriceran side could leave an official strongly-worded message kindly suggesting that it’d be best if the queen does not show up on Earth again anytime soon.”

  The king nodded. “I’ll see that it’s taken care of. If the Drow return to Earth, inform me immediately.”

  The consul bowed his head. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

  2

  Shay leaned forward on the couch and eyed James’ chest as he sat in a chair across from her. “You should have brought the Whispering Amulet of Doom.”

  I’ve got too many doom artifacts in my life lately.

  James grunted. “You’ve already seen it. Not like we need it here to talk about it.” He looked away, discomfort etched on his face. He was starting to regret having told Shay about the recent change.

  “But you just told me you can talk to it now.” Shay rolled her eyes. “You can’t drop something like that on me and then try to act like it’s no big deal.”

  James shook his head. “I didn’t say I could talk to it, just that I’m starting to understand it some. Most of that was more about knowing what it was feeling than what it was saying.”

  Shay laughed. “So you’re saying you do a better job of understanding your amulet than me?”

  “Something like that, yeah.” James shrugged.

  Shay leaned back and looked James up and down. “The more you can communicate with it, the greater the potential to unlock more of its power.”

  “That’s if it has more.”

  “Oh, I bet it does, but the armor is nice enough.”

  “Yeah.” James nodded. “Be dead ten times over without it.”

  “You said you figured out how it worked?” Shay tilted her head slightly, a pained expression on her face. “Or did the amulet tell you?”

  James shook his head. “No, I figured it out. It’s obvious now that the thing adapts after attacks.” He gestured toward his chest. “It’s not perfect, but after the first hit, it’ll make me more resistant to that type of attack. It’s like it knows what to watch for.”

  It was good to have some small advance in understanding. He’d gone so many years having no clue what the amulet represented, and even worried that it was infernal. Now he not only knew it was alien in origin but was closer to understanding its true nature.

  Shay tapped her bottom lip. “Kind of like a vaccine, then?”

  “Yeah.”

  Shay blew out a breath and stood. “But it’s really specific in some ways. You’ve been hit with magic before, and it didn’t protect you at first against the Drow.” She started pacing.

  “I don’t think it’s as general as magic or non-magic.” James shrugged. “I’ve been stabbed with swords before, and it didn’t help me when that Harriken fuck used the Masamune on me.” He ran his hand over his chest and down his stomach, remembering the pain of the wound. “I don’t know if it’s the material or the spell, but I’m guessing it’s like the specific type of energy, magical or not. Maybe I’m resistant to shadow magic now. Don’t know.”

  “That would make sense.” Shay stopped pacing and closed on James, her eyes narrowed.

  He looked up at her uncertainly.

  Shit. What’s going on in her head? Whatever the next sentence is, I’m guessing it won’t be good.

  She tapped his chest. “I’m going to need to shoot you.”

  Yeah, not good.

  “Huh?” James rose slowly, his hands in front of his chest. He didn’t understand women all that well, and the relationship podcast hadn’t covered what to say if your girlfriend said she wanted to shoot you.

  “So it can learn.” Shay shrugged. “The Whispering Amulet of Doom.”

  “Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.” James dropped his hands and shook his head. “Bullets are fine. I’ve been using it so long that it’s already adapted to a lot of things.”

  Shay nodded. “I guess that’s true. I’ve seen you take tons of bullets, knives, and shotgun pellets. You’ve been burned by fire that would have sent other people to the hospital.” She winced.

  “Yeah, I figure bullets and pellets are kind of the same thing.” He settled back into his chair. “Bullets, in the end, are just about applying kinetic energy.”

  Shay shook her head. “We still don’t know if it’s that general.”

  James frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s alien shit that may or may not be magical.” Shay pulled open her jacket to reveal a sheath for one of the magical gnomish knives. “And being magical can make a big difference, even if it’s functionally the same on the surface. For all we know, it could be as specific as ‘protect James from metal bullets made from lead.’ Someone might roll up and shoot you with a silver bullet or something, and you go down.”

  The bounty hunter shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe. I’m not gonna say I never get surprised like with the Harriken sword.”

  She snapped her fingers. “I just thought of something. I’m so fucking brilliant.”

  “What?”

  “You should ask it.” Shay pointed to his chest.

  “The amulet?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. If you understand more of it now, maybe it’ll answer.”

  “I don’t know.” James frowned and looked down. “It wasn’t responding to my thoughts from what I could tell, but to the situation, and I’m still not sure if me understanding more of what it’s saying is good or bad.” He looked back up. “This thing fuses with my body. For all I know, it might be able to take control of me.”

  A strange look passed over Shay’s face for a moment.

  James frowned. “What?”

  Shay waved a hand. “Nothing, just…thinking, was all. It’d be helpful if we knew more about where you came from, but I can look into that.”

&n
bsp; “Yeah.” James grunted. “I’m not good at the research shit.”

  Shay smiled, though it seemed forced.

  She’s probably freaked out by having all this alien shit up in her face. Can’t blame her.

  “What do we do in the meantime?” James asked.

  Shay shrugged. “We train it.”

  “Train it?”

  “Yeah. If we don’t know how far it goes with bullets, we shoot you with different guns.”

  James grunted. “And we’re back to shooting me.”

  Shay laughed. “Yeah, just go to that witch of yours and stock up on healing potions if you’re worried.”

  “Those things aren’t cheap.”

  “The more you’re immune to, the less you’ll have to use them in the future.” Shay settled back on the couch and crossed her legs. “Think of it as an investment.”

  James nodded. “Okay, fine.” He sighed. “Part one of the plan is shooting me a lot.”

  “Yeah.” Shay grinned. “I’m only suggesting this for your own good.”

  The bounty hunter grunted. “Yeah, yeah. And what else?”

  “Beat you with different weapons. Stab you.” Shay whipped out her knife and sliced the air a few times. “Try and fry you different ways. Sonic attacks. There’s a lot of shit we could do.” She grinned.

  James eyed her for a few seconds before speaking. “You look like you’re enjoying the idea of trying to hurt me way too much.”

  Shay winked. “Oh, no. It’s all for your own good, James.” Her eyes widened, and her mouth formed an O. “Maybe a harpoon?”

  “A harpoon?”

  “Yeah, you ever been harpooned?” She mimicked throwing a harpoon. “I’ve used one a few times.”

  “No. I’m not a fucking shark or a whale.” James snorted.

  Shay laughed. “Just saying, you never know what you’ll need to deal with bounty-wise. We need to be systematic about this, including testing shit we think you might already be immune to, like most rifles, pistols, and shotguns.” Her smile widened. “Might want to work on small-dose toxins and shit, too.” She rubbed her hands together.

 

‹ Prev