The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 1 thru 5 (Smoke Special Edition)

by Craig Halloran

  Cyrus kneeled down, grabbed the taller one by his locks, and said, “My agent better not die.”

  Somehow, the man shrugged. “The only good agent is a dead agent.”

  Cyrus stuffed the man’s face in the cement and ground it in a little.

  “Sir,” one of the other agents said, “Come take a look at this?”

  The thugs stirred on the ground, watching Cyrus walk over. Sidney made her way behind him, stopping at the back of the box truck that was wide open. Inside were munition crates and round blue barrels. Seated along the wall and wide-eyed were children.

  “Aw,” Cyrus said, rubbing the back of his head, “are you shitting me?” He shook his head and activated his Blue-tooth. “Call Child Services too.” An ambulance with flashing lights roared into the parking lot and sped by, stirring the wind. “How’s McCall?” No reply. “Carl. Lacy. What is the status on McCall?”

  Carl’s voice was flat. “He didn’t make it, sir.”

  “Dammit,” Cyrus whispered. Everyone’s chin dipped a little.

  Sidney felt her heart sink. McCall was one of their best agents. Flashy. Confident. Well-liked. His loss was a wound. Like Dydeck’s.

  “Heh heh heh,” said the bald thug lying in the parking lot. “What’s the matter, agent? Pretty Boy didn’t make it? Heh heh heh … that’s what you get for trying to fool us. But it looks like we fooled you.”

  “Somebody shut him up,” Cyrus said, turning his back and rubbing his temples.

  “I hear you agents have been dying like flies around here lately,” said the other dealer.

  Sidney’s heart skipped. Something about the way the man said it jolted her. She fastened her eyes on the men and said to one of the agents, “Did you get them patted down?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I don’t think they did a very thorough job,” the bald one said. He winked. “How about you come on over and pat me down, sugar. I’m pretty sure they missed my crotch, and besides, my balls are itching. Heh heh.”

  Sidney walked over, squatted down, and put her knee in his back. She grabbed his thumb and twisted it.

  “Yeow!” the dealer cried out.

  “Are they still itching?”

  “Yes!” he spit out.

  She cranked up the pressure.

  “Argh!”

  “How about now?”

  “No,” he puffed. “No, dammit!”

  Just as she released him, she noticed a mark inside the palm of his hand, a black sun dripping blood. A sliver of ice raced down her spine, making her toes tingle. It was the same mark she had seen at the hospital where she encountered the deaders and Adam Vaughn. This can’t be a coincidence.

  “Sid,” Cyrus barked at her. “Get over here.”

  She hated the sneering tone Cyrus used on her. It riled her up. She walked up to him and said, “Don’t ‘get’ me again.”

  “Fine. Will you just take custody of the children and sort them out before Child Services arrives?”

  “Sure, you’re the boss.”

  Inside the box truck, some of the agents had cracked open the crates: assault rifles, ammo, grenades, and bags of pills and powders. It was enough to start or incapacitate a small army. Sidney climbed into the truck and crawled among the children. Each was ragged, dirty—and hungry, by the looks of them. “I’m Agent Shaw, and I’m here to help you. Can you tell me your names?”

  A small black boy with lighter skin, maybe eight years old, spoke up first. “My name is James.” He cocked his head and touched her cheek with a gentle hand. “Your hair is different.”

  She pulled back and put her hand inside his. It was fragile and cold. “I’m not sure that I follow, James. What do you mean, different?”

  “I think it was longer last time.”

  Sidney’s memory flashed. James’s face was suddenly familiar. He was one of the children she and Smoke had rescued from Ray Cline’s joint back in October. Sonuvabitch, this can’t be happening! She scooped the boy up in her arms. “Cyrus, we have another problem.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Inside her cubicle, Sidney hammered at the keyboard. This doesn’t make any sense. She’d sent emails. Made inquiries. But the children she’d rescued months earlier had disappeared into the system. She snapped the pencil in her hand and tossed it in the trash. “Dammit.”

  “You okay?” a woman said, walking up behind her. It was Sadie, a black co-worker, a little heavy, in a plum pantsuit. She had a warmth about her. “Because I don’t think your keyboard can take much more.”

  Sidney spun around in her chair. “It’s that noticeable?”

  Sadie set down her coffee mug that had a picture of two children on it. She rested her rear end on Sidney’s desk. “So what’s going on? It’s Cyrus, isn’t it? You and him are a thing again, aren’t you?”

  “No,” Sidney said shaking her head. “Lord no.”

  “Good. Because I don’t like him.”

  “Does anybody?”

  “True,” Sadie said, hoisting up her coffee cup. “So, fill me in.”

  “Aw, just a dead end on those kids is all. Makes me wonder who’s protecting the children from Protective Services.”

  “You don’t actually think they’re going to be very forthcoming about losing children, do you? After all, it is just another government agency.”

  “One that loses children?”

  “Well, maybe they didn’t. Maybe it was the foster home.”

  “They can’t ever tell me anything about that.” Sidney shook her head and clenched her fists. “I could just punch somebody.”

  “You know, Sid, you’ve been pretty frustrated lately. Are you seeing anybody?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you mean, what do I mean? Are you getting any?”

  No!

  “Come on,” Sadie continued with a smile. “It’s just us girls talking.”

  “I don’t have the time.”

  “Hah, you’re single. You’ve got the time. Me and Reggie have two children: baseball, football, soccer, basketball,” Sadie huffed, “not to mention coaching, shopping, cleaning, and cooking. And we find the time. Heck, we make the time, else we’d kill each other.”

  “That’s different. You’re married.”

  “And you’re single.” Sadie leaned closer. “A long time single, and the longer you stay single, the longer you’re going to be single. Don’t get set in those ways, else you’re going to be an old maid forever.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “That’s what my sister says, and guess what—still single. And every time she finds a good man, she picks him apart. She’s set in her ways.”

  Great warm-up. I’m going to have to listen to this same crap from Mom over Christmas.

  “You know,” Sadie said, peeking around, “there’s some new faces around here that I’d love to introduce you to.”

  “I’ll never date another agent.”

  “They aren’t all agents. Most of them are just nerds, college boys wanting to change the world. Look down this way.” Sadie motioned her over, peering around the cubicle. “That’s Greg. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Nice butt in those trousers.”

  Sidney wheeled her chair and looked down the aisle. “I don’t see anybody.”

  Sadie started laughing. “You looked. Ha ha. Sid, you need a man even worse than I thought you did.”

  Sidney slapped Sadie’s leg. “You witch!”

  “Don’t be disappointed. There is a Greg, as described. I’ll introduce you to him.”

  Sid pushed back toward her desk. “No thanks. I need a matchmaker I can trust.”

  “Aw, that’s cold. You know you can trust me.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Cause I ain’t a man.”

  “No, but you’re just as ornery. See you around, Sadie,” she said, turning around.

  “Say, I didn’t come over here to rile you. I want to help.” Sadie looked over her shoulder. “I have a close cousin in Child Protective Ser
vices. Why don’t you give me something so I can snoop around?”

  Sadie was an executive secretary who had as much authorization and access as most field agents. She’d proven to be very helpful on more than one occasion, not to mention that she did most of the supervisors’ and assistant directors’ work for them.

  Sidney jotted down some names and contacts on a legal pad, tore it off, and handed it to her. “Thanks.”

  Sadie snatched it out of her grip and said, “You’re welcome.”

  Glad that’s out of my hair. The last thing I need is to be reminded that I don’t have a boyfriend or husband. There’ll be plenty of that talk tomorrow. Ugh. She enjoyed the holidays, but things would be a little tense dealing with her sister, Allison, who was still holed up at her parents’, along with Sidney’s niece, Megan. Sid had made one visit for Thanksgiving, and it had turned ugly. Allison didn’t hide her resentment of Sid.

  Her desk phone rang. Ted Howard’s name popped up. She hadn’t met with him in weeks. She picked up the receiver. “Agent Shaw.”

  “Sid, can you swing by?” Ted sounded a little tense.

  “Sure, when?”

  “Now would be ideal.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right—” The line went dead, “There? Great.” Normally, Ted gave her a heads up on what he wanted to talk about. But not today. The tension in his voice left her uneasy. She picked up her bag and got up out of her seat. A nice-looking younger man was standing behind her in a white oxford shirt, burgundy checked tie, and khaki pants.

  Morning glory. He’s fresh out of the frat house.

  “Hi,” he said, rubbing the back of his blond head. “I’m Greg. Uh, Sadie says you need to see me. She says your computer needs a tune-up.”

  Sidney laughed out loud.

  “I’m missing something,” he said, swallowing. His eyes glanced down at her chest.

  “Apparently not,” she said, disappointed. “And my computer’s just fine. Nice meeting you, Greg.” She walked by Sadie’s desk on the way to Ted’s office, one floor up from hers. “Nice try, Sadie. It only took him five seconds to glue his eyes on my boobs.” She kept going.

  Sadie hollered after her, “You can’t fault a young man for looking when you have a body like that, you prude.”

  Sid made her way to the elevator, laughing inside. Normally, her suit jacket concealed her ample curves. And it was a rare day when she wore a skirt. Waiting at the elevator, she noticed a few agents approaching. No time for chit chat. She took the steps and made her way to Ted’s floor, stopping at his secretary’s desk.

  “Go on in, Sidney. He told me he was expecting you.”

  “Should I knock?”

  “No, go on in,” the secretary said, eyeing her up and down. “I like that outfit. Why don’t you dress like that more often?”

  Sidney grabbed the door handle and started her way inside. “Because I work here.”

  Inside, Ted was sitting at his desk with a stern expression on his face. Filling one of the two chairs in front of him was a man with short dark hair in a grey suit. Both men stood up as she entered and closed the door behind her. The man in the grey suit turned and fastened his engaging eyes on hers. Her heart skipped under his heavy gaze.

  Glorious morning!

  CHAPTER 5

  “Hello, Agent Shaw,” said Smoke. His presence seemed to fill up the office. “How have you been?” The tall man’s suit coat bulged in the arms.

  “Never better,” Sidney said, taking the open seat in front of Ted’s desk. “Looks like prison life has been treating you well. Did you make that suit in there yourself?”

  “It was either this or vanity license plates.”

  “I see,” she said, turning her focus to Ted. “So you surprised me. Care to fill me in?”

  “The Black Slate is back on the table,” Ted said, taking a black file folder from his drawer. “They appreciated the thoroughness of your report.”

  Sidney reached for the folder, but Ted pulled it back. She said, “Who appreciated the thoroughness of my report?”

  “You’ll know when they want you to know.”

  “Come on, Ted. It’s been two months already, and now it’s suddenly back on the table.”

  “Things take time. It could have been longer. But you two are back on it. At least, Mister Smoke has agreed to it.”

  “So you two have visited?” She narrowed her eyes on Ted. She’d been left in the dark again.

  “We talked,” Ted said, loosening his tie.

  “In person or over the phone?”

  “Sid, don’t start this.”

  “First,” she said, poking her finger into his desk, “you send me in to recruit him. Then, I’m sent out to hunt werewolves with him only to have him slammed back in prison again, and not a single word about it until now. I don’t work like this, not with you. Not with anyone.”

  Ted leaned forward, resting his big elbows on the table. “Don’t think you are the only one being put in an unusual predicament, Sid. You get your orders. You follow them. Or did you forget that?”

  “This is why I’m a civilian,” Smoke interjected.

  Sidney shook her head. She hated being left in the dark about anything. Even worse, just when she’d managed to bury her memories of Smoke and everything that happened at Mildred Bateman hospital, it all cropped up again, like a volcano blasting out memories and emotion. “I’m sorry,” she said to Smoke, “but didn’t you volunteer for this?”

  “The food’s still better outside of prison.”

  “You don’t look like you’ve missed any meals.”

  “Thanks for noticing.”

  She turned back to Ted. “Why the secrecy, Ted? Why?”

  “They,” Ted said, “who it seems I can’t not mention, wanted to wait until the end of this last assignment of yours was resolved.”

  “And this revolves around me how?”

  “As I am told, you and Mister Smoke are the first to bring in a member of the Black Slate in ten years.”

  “So there are other werewolves.”

  Ted rolled his eyes. “Man, I really hate that word. But, no, not a werewolf, just another wanted criminal. I don’t know much more than you do, but I do know that.”

  “So I guess we aren’t getting any government-issued silver bullets?” she asked.

  “Aw,” Ted grunted, “let’s forget that last bounty and talk about the new one.” He pushed the file over. “Shall we?”

  Sidney snatched it up. “Hold on a second, Ted. What about the case I’m on? I can’t just walk away from it. We found one of the same kids that we picked up from Ray Cline.”

  “We did?” Smoke said, sitting up.

  “I did,” Sidney added.

  “Cyrus will handle that, Sid,” Ted warned. “Drop it.”

  “I’m not going to drop it. Children are in danger. Something is wrong with the system.”

  “It’s being taken care of.”

  “No it isn’t.”

  “Sid, you have to have faith in the system.”

  She sat back and groaned. She’d heard that plenty of times. For the most part, the system did hold together, but in this case something was wrong. Really wrong. “I’d rather stick to the case I’m on.” She looked at Smoke. “No offense.”

  “She doesn’t play, then I don’t play,” Smoke said.

  Ted rose out of his chair, and with a raised voice, he said, “Let me remind you that neither one of you have a choice in the matter. Mister Smoke—”

  “Call me Smoke.”

  “Mister Smoke, it’s the Black Slate or you go back to staring at the grey slate, not to forget the time in solitary you have coming… ”

  Solitary? Why would he have solitary? Sidney noticed a nasty scrape on the right side of his face that was a little swollen.

  “… and you, Agent Shaw, will follow orders or be faced with insubordination. Now don’t buck me on this. If I could give you another assignment, I would, but I can’t. It’s this or nothing. Nothing being, yo
u might be out of a job,” he said to her, “and you might go back to prison even longer,” he said to Smoke. “Do I have your cooperation or not?”

  Smoke shrugged.

  “Sir, yes, Sir!” Sidney mocked.

  “Don’t push me, Sid. Don’t push me.”

  She could see Ted’s harsh expression drain a little. He didn’t like this any more than she did. He had orders, and he’d follow them. It was just the way the chain of command worked, and in the grand scheme of things they were all way down on the pecking order. She opened the black file folder. Inside was the portrait of a beautiful lustrous-haired woman with a wicked look. “Interesting.”

  “Her name is Angi Harlow,” Ted said with a sigh, “also known as Night Bird.”

  Smoke leaned over and glanced at the picture. “Why do they call her Night Bird?”

  “I don’t know,” Ted mumbled, uneasy. “Maybe she can fly or something.”

  Sidney shuffled through the pictures. There were more crime scenes. Drug labs. Munitions. Blood. She swallowed hard. There were dead bodies too. Some disemboweled. Others in bits and pieces. The last photo was of a man, dead in a cemetery. His eyes were missing from a body half covered in ravens. Sidney’s chest tightened. This is not normal. She glanced up at Smoke.

  “Let’s go find her nest,” he said, “and burn it.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “You aren’t burning anything,” Ted said. “Bring her in alive.”

  “And we have how much time to do this?” Sidney asked.

  “Mister Smoke’s out for two more weeks, and the clock has already started.”

  “Now?” Sid said. “My leave starts at the end of the day, and it’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.”

  “Figure it out,” Ted said, taking his seat and fumbling through his desk. “And thanks for reminding me.” He punched keys on his desk phone. “Jane, where’s my gift?”

  “Bottom drawer on the left,” said his secretary.

  Ted reached down and produced a small flat box wrapped in bright colors. “Ah, very nice.” He got up, walked across the office, and put on his coat and hat. He opened the door, turned to Sid, and said, “Everything you need to know is in the file.”