The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus

by Michael Anderle

  The losses weren’t important. His goals only required his growing strength, not ephemeral connections to weak mortals who lacked any true power. The situation was far different from his first few weak years in this dimension.

  The crystal presented a rare and useful opportunity; a tool he could use for the complete corruption of James Brownstone. He Who Hunts would only be able to use the crystal once, but when he controlled the other man, he’d be worth armies of the pathetic wizards and Zain fodder. Unleashing Brownstone upon an unsuspecting city would be glorious to behold.

  Such death. Such panic. Such chaos.

  He Who Hunts glowed brightly for a few seconds at the thought.

  A fool destroyed his powerful enemies. An intelligent creature turned his enemies to his own use and made a mockery of them. Whatever fear Brownstone felt that kept him from always using his true power could be exploited by the red crystal. The man would become a tool to spread chaos and weaken the feeble walls that protected the pathetic dimension holding Earth and Oriceran.

  Even so many weeks after the incident, He Who Hunts’ spell could sense the rage and anger spilling from Brownstone as he finished off his enemies. The strange armor he wore didn’t taste like any magic He Who Hunts knew, but it was clear that negative emotions were critical to its use. That would make the bounty hunter vulnerable to the power of the red crystal. Vulnerable to corruption.

  Brownstone had even done He Who Hunts a favor by extinguishing the Council. Their goals had been myopic. Control? Influence? What a laughable notion. There was no true control, only chaos waiting for its chance.

  There was a light knock on the door.

  “Enter,” He Who Hunts hissed in his raspy voice. Every word of normal speech pained him, but some things were necessary to work with lesser beings.

  A dozen robed wizards filed into the room. The Council had few forces left, but they could be of use.

  One of the wizards bowed over an arm. “We’ve come as summoned, Master.”

  He Who Hunts floated over toward the man. He didn’t bother with a robe, appearing to them to be nothing more than a swirling mass of red mist and glowing red eyes. Tendrils appeared and disappeared as needed.

  “The governments of many nations and their allies have wounded the Council.” He Who Hunts floated upward. “Some who claimed loyalty to our great cause have fled. I ask you, are you loyal?”

  The wizard stood upright. “We’re all loyal. We will not abandon the Council. We’ll hunt others if you ask it of us, Master.”

  The other wizards nodded their agreement.

  “Are you willing to sacrifice for the Council?” He Who Hunts asked.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He Who Hunts glided until he was mere inches from the man, the scorching heat of his mist making the man twitch. “What would you sacrifice?”

  “E-everything, master.”

  He Who Hunts floated back, several tendrils growing from his body. “A good final answer.”

  “Final answer?”

  The door slammed shut behind the wizards. They all exchanged glances, fear appearing on their faces.

  He Who Hunts rose toward the ceiling, his tendrils floating and twitching. A burning scarlet mist condensed from the air. The lids of four boxes positioned in the cardinal directions within the room blew off, more mist flowing out from the remnants of the artifacts inside.

  The wizards turned and rushed for the closed door. The first few to reach it pounded on it.

  The mist thickened and the wizards fell to the ground, screaming and clawing at their ears and mouths. Their bodies twisted and contorted. Living gray stone spread over one man. Another grew more legs and a dark carapace.

  Each mutation was distinct in its own way. One wizard screamed as half his body tore away and regenerated seconds later, leaving two full men where one had once been. Then four. Then eight.

  He Who Hunts surveyed the monsters below him as the screaming continued. He’d changed them and would rule their hearts and minds. Their lives would be limited to weeks, but it didn’t matter. They only needed to live long enough to execute his current plan to capture his true target.

  “You will be the key, Brownstone,” he hissed. “You will become mine. You will unlock chaos.”

  Motherfucker!

  Trey ducked as a bullet shattered the window he’d been looking through. That was what he got for taking on the targets in their home. There was just something about Vegas bounties in houses. They went south more often than in LA. Maybe it was just that he and the rest of the guys didn’t know Vegas as well as their home city.

  Damn, that was close.

  “Motherfucker,” he shouted, “it should be a crime to damage a face as handsome as this one.”

  Lachlan snorted and reloaded his pistol. “I swear every time we go after twins, they be way fucking harder than normal bounties. You think there is some magic shit to being a twin?” He spun and unloaded several rounds through the wall before jumping away.

  “I don’t really give a fuck.” Trey pulled out a flashbang. The criminals had shot out the window, which meant he could now give them a little present. “Just need to distract these fuckers long enough for Max and Isaiah to surprise their asses.” He gritted his teeth. “Give me some cover on three, two, one…”

  Lachlan fired through the wall again and rolled out of the way to avoid the rifle bullets ripping through it from the opposite direction.

  Trey took his chance and hurled the flashbang through the shattered remains of the window. A pop and flash preceded the loud groans of the twin brothers inside, both level threes. A few seconds later the front door crashed open, a victim of Isaiah’s foot.

  Lachlan shot up to aim through the window. Trey followed suit.

  Isaiah and Max tackled the men inside, knocking the criminals and their guns to the floor.

  “Stay here,” Trey shouted to Lachlan as he sprinted around the corner.

  By the time he’d run around the house and into the front room, Max and Isaiah already had the bounties zip-tied and face-down.

  “Good job.” Trey marched over to the bounties and shook his head. “You’re lucky we’re the Brownstone Agency, so we ain’t gonna beat your asses despite you trying to kill us.”

  A soft feminine chuckle came from the front door.

  Trey spun, his weapon up. A beautiful pale redhead in an Armani suit stood right outside the house, a thin golden wand hanging loosely from her hand.

  Victoria Stone. It’d been a while since he’d last run into the witch.

  Isaiah and Max brought up their guns, but Trey waved them off as he holstered his weapon.

  “It’s cool. She ain’t here to save these motherfuckers.”

  Victoria grinned. “How can you be so sure?”

  Trey grinned back. “Because you already would have fried our asses, and I doubt you’re wasting time working for dumbass motherfuckers like these two bitches.”

  She laughed. “That’s accurate enough. I actually came to grab them, but you damn Brownstone boys are just too fast.”

  Trey frowned. “Grab them? What? You a cop now?”

  Victoria shook her head. “I decided to take up bounty hunting.” She holstered her wand inside her jacket and started walking away. “See you.”

  Trey turned and nodded to Max. “You get them boys ready. I’ll be right back.” He jogged after the witch.

  Lachlan turned the corner and eyed her with confusion but continued into the house without saying anything.

  Victoria leaned against the side of the house, arms crossed and lips pursed, which highlighted her bright red lipstick.

  Trey gestured toward the front door. “We aren’t gonna have a problem, are we? We grabbed those boys fair and square.”

  She shook her head. “No, I have no interest in poaching your captures.”

  “I haven’t even heard that you were in the hunt scene, and we try to keep an ear to the ground.”

  Victoria shrugged. “I�
�ve been out of town. After that incident with Johns I thought it might be better to avoid Vegas for a while, but it’s my home, so I decided to come back.” She looked Trey up and down with a slight frown and pointed to an anti-magic deflector hanging around his neck. “Why bring something like that for two common hitmen?”

  Trey snorted. “You shitting me? Johns was only a level three, and he had this hot-ass witch guarding him.” He smirked. “You never know what you’re gonna run into on a bounty hunt, so we like to be more careful nowadays.”

  Victoria chuckled. “Awfully expensive way to be careful.” She shrugged and pushed off the wall. “You’re certainly still looking good. Maybe a little bit more muscular than last time.”

  “That’s probably just the bulletproof vest.”

  She laughed. “Just saying… I’m a woman who knows what she wants, and I think it was a mistake that I didn’t connect with you after our last run-in. You seem like a very capable and interesting man.”

  What the fuck? Am I like catnip to witches?

  Trey sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Now, straight-up, Victoria, you’re fucking fine. No man could deny that, but…”

  Victoria arched an eyebrow. “But?”

  “I’m kind of seeing someone right now, and I’m a one-witch kind of man.”

  The corners of Victoria’s mouth turned up in a smile. “She’s a witch?”

  Trey nodded. “Yeah. Potions witch.”

  Shit. Do I even really have anything with Zoe? I mean, we slept together, but she ain’t been wanting to see me much the last couple of weeks, always saying she’s busy.

  Maybe Zoe ain’t want nothing more than she got.

  Trey wanted to tell himself he was the same, but that would be a lie, and he knew it. He couldn’t get the potions witch out of his mind, even if he had a beautiful witch standing right in front of him asking him out.

  Victoria smiled. “I’m not surprised. You’re brave and handsome, and there’s a certain…quality about you.”

  “Quality?”

  “I don’t know. Just call it witch’s intuition. I think you’ll only grow to be a more impressive man.” She shrugged. “Something different than your other friend I ran into that day.” She nodded toward the house. “I didn’t see him in there. He in LA right now?”

  Trey sighed and looked down. “Did you hear at all about how the Brownstone Agency went after the Council?”

  Victoria nodded, her smile fading. “Yes, it’s not exactly a big secret.”

  He shrugged. “Shorty got killed by some fuckers working for the Council.”

  “My condolences.” The witch sighed. “I hope it was a good death.”

  Trey nodded. “He died saving my life. Don’t know if that shit is good.”

  “It’s always good to save someone else with your last breath.” She locked eyes with him. “I’d encourage you to live up to that sacrifice.”

  “I try to every day.”

  Victoria sighed and turned. “I should get going. If I’m not going to get the bounty for the level threes, there are a few easy pick-ups I can manage while you’re distracted taking those guys in.” She waved. “See you around, Trey.”

  He waved back and headed into the house again. Victoria was right. The only thing he could do for Shorty now was make sure he’d died for a good man.

  I’m gonna keep trying, brother. We at least took out those Council bastards for you, but I’m not gonna forget, not for one minute of one day, what you did for me, Shorty.

  2

  The SUV rumbled through the Mexican scrubland. James grunted. He needed to stop coming down to Mexico only when he had a bounty. He wasn’t much for vacations, but it might be nice to hang out in the country when he wasn’t going to have to beat or kill someone.

  Shit. If it weren’t for Jesse Rae’s, Vegas might be like that for me, too.

  Shay glanced at him from the passenger seat. “Problem?”

  James shook his head. “Nah, just thinking that every time I travel, it’s like one day of relaxing and food and several days of ass-kicking.”

  Shay laughed. “Oh. What, you want to take some time off?

  He shrugged. “It’s not like that. Just getting a little fucking tired of always seeing the worst a place has to offer.”

  “Getting thoughtful in your old age, huh?” Shay grinned.

  James grunted again and shrugged. “Not feeling bad about kicking Council ass, even if it’s just leftover foot soldiers.”

  Shay nodded. “I’m surprised they didn’t just send special forces to finish these guys off.”

  “Senator Johnston said that since the Council cell was in Baja, he preferred for us to handle it.”

  “Fine by me.” Shay smiled. “For me at least, it’s relaxing coming to Mexico ever since we destroyed the cartel.”

  James chuckled, but then his mirth faded. “I got to be honest.”

  She glanced his way. “What are you talking about?”

  “The senator actually asked if I wanted to go with a group of soldiers.” James frowned. “I turned him down.”

  Shay nodded. “No reason to give up money. I’m sure they would have taken some of the reward.”

  “That’s not the reason.”

  “What, then?”

  James’ grip tightened around the wheel, and it creaked under the pressure. “Those Council douchebags have made me lose control a few times. Fuck, you’ve seen it.” He shook his head, his brow knitting in concern. “What happens if I lose control and end up hurting a soldier?”

  Shay shrugged. “Don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

  He glanced her way. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because, yeah, I’ve seen you lose control, but you were already working with other people. Even if last time you ran off by yourself, you’ve gone into top-level ass-kicking mode when I was around you, and the AET.”

  James snorted. “You haven’t seen shit.”

  Shay arched a brow. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “It’s not just the armor and the blade anymore. When I totally lose it, Whispy Doom calls it extended advanced transformation. Not just the full suit and the helmet you saw, but some sort of energy blasts.”

  A light chuckle escaped Shay’s lips. “I was wondering what the hell happened to those weird monsters in the vehicle bay. I ended up there when I was trying to chase you down, and I couldn’t quite figure out how you blew holes through them with the gear you had.” She raised a shoulder. “I don’t see the big deal. It’s nice to have a few surprises in your back pocket in case you run into someone tougher than you expected.”

  James shook his head, taking a moment to check his mirrors. Nothing but dust and rocks on the pathetic path passing for a road. “But the only way I get to advanced or extended advanced mode is by being pissed off. Anger. Hatred. That shit.” He patted his chest, where the unbonded amulet lay underneath his shirt. “And he fucking gets off on it like an eighteen-year-old at his first strip club.”

  Shay snorted. “So?”

  “So? You don’t think that’s a bad thing?”

  “You worried Yoda’s gonna show up and criticize you for going over to the Dark Side or some shit?” Shay rolled her eyes. “This is what you do—you kick ass. Sometimes you get mad and kick more ass. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being pissed off when you kick ass. Shit, it’s not exactly like I’m always calm when I’m killing people.”

  James glanced her way, looking for some sign of deception in her face, but she seemed more annoyed than anything. “But I keep getting more powerful. What if I hurt someone who doesn’t have it coming?”

  “As long as everyone knows the deal, we can manage that. It’s not like the military doesn’t use big-ass bombs just because they’re big-ass bombs. They just make sure none of the friendly guys are near them when they go off.”

  He grunted. “So now I’m a big-ass bomb?”

  Shay laughed. “Basically. Or maybe a Berserker, like in th
e Norse sagas.”

  James’ mouth twitched. “I’ve read about them. They were famous for not being able to tell their friends from their enemies.”

  “Which was why they sent them where their own guys wouldn’t be.” Shay shook her head. “Look, you’re really overthinking this, and you’re ignoring the basic fucking reality of us living in a dangerous world. You know the best way to achieve peace?”

  He shrugged. “Everyone shares barbeque?”

  Shay burst out laughing. “Hell, no. Peace through superior firepower. You’re not just a big-ass bomb. You’re a nuke, and if we can force peace by nuking some assholes, so be it. Eventually, if they show up with a nuke of their own, maybe we can all agree on something. Until then, keep on doing what you do. Kick ass and take names.”

  James snorted. “Now I’m a fucking nuke. For all I know, someday some asshole from my home planet will show up to arrest me for using this suit illegally according to galactic law or some shit.”

  Shay’s smile faded, and she sighed. “About that…”

  His gaze flicked her way. “You find out something new?”

  She shook her head. “I’m kind of at a dead end. The government guys looking into this thing—you know Projects Ragnarok and Nephilim—might know more, but not that Peyton’s been able to find, and I’ve been scouring my library and other resources and hitting only more dead ends. Barely been able to translate any more of the symbols.” She shrugged. “I’m honestly unsure if we’ll be able to actually track down where you’re from unless I stumble across some random alien birth certificate. Maybe some of the shit Peyton’s girlfriend is involved in might pay off, but I doubt they’ll be releasing anything to the general public. She’s pretty clueless about what he knows, from what he’s told me.”

  James grunted. “Big fucking deal.”

  “Big fucking deal?”

  He nodded. “I might have been born on some planet out there, but I grew up on Earth. My people are on Earth and in America. Everyone I give a shit about lives on Earth.” He shook his head. “It’s not about where you’re born. It’s about how you choose to live your life, and where you choose to call home. I doubt I’ll ever meet some fucker from my home planet, but I don’t care.”