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

by Craig Halloran

  “Now? We just got a lead.”

  “I’ve passed it on,” he said, putting the phone away. He patted his belly. “Let’s eat.”

  “No, we’re going to pursue this lead first.”

  “Come on, I don’t do so well on an empty stomach. I’m starving. I almost chewed that guy’s ear off.” He made a sour face. “And that just ain’t right.”

  “No.”

  “Let Sam and Guppy do their thing. The Drake and their people know we’re out here looking for someone. They might know the entire thing. Besides, I have the Glow in me. Let’s lay low. When the time is right, we’ll do the right thing.” He pointed. “Take the next left at the light and head three miles downward. Great steaks and pancakes.”

  Sidney pushed her blinker down. Fine. “I’m only doing this because I was about ready to eat that man’s ear too.”

  Smoke laughed. “You get cranky when you’re really hungry, don’t you.”

  “No.” Yes. Mother always said that. Allison too. “I think it’s the suit. It’s like I’m burning more energy.”

  “If you say so. How’s the shoulder?”

  “Good.”

  Not much was said after that until they parked and went inside the restaurant. It was located beneath an apartment complex and displayed the modern décor of a restaurant chain. The food smelled good, and being just past dinner time, it was busy. The hostess sat them down in a booth in the corner.

  Sidney studied the menu. “I don’t see any pancakes.”

  “That’s the dinner menu. They’ll have them.”

  The waiter came over. “Drinks?”

  “Water,” Sidney said.

  “Coke and two orders of pancakes.” He glanced at Sidney.

  “Uh … just bring me the grilled chicken salad and a cup of tomato Florentine soup.”

  “Certainly,” the waiter said, dropping his pad back in his apron. “I’ll be back with your drinks.”

  Sidney checked her phone. 6:33 pm. Where does the time go?

  “So,” Smoke said, easing back in his chair. “Are you ready to talk about werewolves?”

  CHAPTER 23

  “I haven’t slept the same since,” Sidney said, finishing off her salad. “Not bad but not my best. It was getting better, but now after this last incident, I’m not so certain.”

  “I’ve never been much of a sleeper,” Smoke said. He’d almost finished off his second stack of pancakes and downed his third Coke. “I think you’re right.”

  “About what?”

  “These suits. They burn more calories or something. I’m still hungry.” He jabbed his fork into the flapjacks and stuffed them in his mouth. “Not that I mind eating.”

  He had a drop of syrup on his grizzled chin. It didn’t bother her. Nothing about the way he ate or drank bothered her at all. It was odd. There were plenty of things she’d find to pick a person apart. But not Smoke. Not yet. Something about his raw nature was enjoyable to watch. “Maybe you aren’t getting it all in your mouth.” She pointed at his chin.

  “Oh.” He wiped off his chin with the cloth napkin. “Sorry. How barbaric of me.”

  “Barbarians don’t use utensils.”

  “You’re right.” Smoke dropped his fork, picked up the rest of the pancakes with his hand, and stuffed them in his mouth, grunting. “Mmmm.”

  Why did you have to do that? Everything had gone pretty well up to that point. They’d discussed the werewolf, the deaders, and the Drake. It was all a common bond only the two of them shared, and it was comforting. Almost like a good date, and she hadn’t been on one in a long time. And now this? Her expression didn’t hide her disappointment.

  “What?” Smoke said, trying to clean off his sticky hands. “It’s a joke. Just lightening up the mood a little. You’re looking at me like this is a bad date or something.” He set down the napkin. “I don’t think this is going to do it. I’ll be back.”

  She watched him go, gently shaking her head. Lighten up, Sid. She’d been around plenty of frivolous men in the past. Silly gestures hadn’t bothered her before, at least not during her time in the military. But in the Bureau, things were always serious. Screw it. I’m under shadow cover now. No one else is around. She took her fork and stabbed his last bit of pancake and stuffed it in her mouth. Oh, that’s good. She swallowed down part of his Coke. And that’s good too. Man I wish I could put it down like he does.

  The waiter showed and said, “Can I take this out of your way?”

  “Yes. Take all of it, and I’m ready for the check.”

  Smoke returned just as the waiter was taking everything away. “I wasn’t finished,” he said, taking a seat. “Or was I?”

  “You were,” she said.

  “Fine. Well, I return bearing good news.”

  “Really, from a trip to the restroom?”

  “It’s a text from Sam.” He held up his phone.

  It read:

  She’s here and this is freaky. Laterz.

  “There’s a picture.” He pulled it up. The image was dark, but the distinct features of Night Bird’s face were defined well enough. She was dancing in a mish mash of people.

  “Who parties like that at this time of day?” Sidney said.

  “Freaky people.”

  The waiter came back and set down the check. “I’ll pick it up when you’re ready.”

  “I got it,” Smoke said, reaching into his back pocket and producing a thin wallet. He removed some bills and handed them to the man. “Keep the change.”

  You butthole! “I thought you said you didn’t have any cash.”

  “It slipped my mind.”

  “Right.”

  “Besides, I was saving it for our dinner.”

  “You tormented that poor guy.”

  “I gave the otherwise boring man something to talk about.” He put his wallet away and got up. “We can go back and tip him if you feel so bad about it. You’re driving.”

  She narrowed her eyes on him and sighed through her nostrils. “Let’s just go.”

  ***

  They sat in their car across the street, eyeing the entrance to the club. Every five to ten minutes or so, an expensive car or limo would pull in front of an older office building. They’d been staking it out for over an hour.

  “Here comes another one,” Smoke said, using a small pair of binoculars. A dark green limousine pulled alongside the curb across the busy street.

  A burly bouncer with almost as much neck as head opened the limo door and escorted three well-dressed people, a short man and two women in furs, into the alleyway that was shared with the next-door building.

  “Is that all rich people do, party day and night?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Smoke said.

  “Me neither. Though I have been at a few federally funded banquets, helping out the Secret Service.”

  “Ah, the Secret Servants,” Smoke said with a nod.

  “No, Secret Service.”

  “That’s what I said, Secret Servants.”

  Here we go. Conspiracy time. “I have plenty of good friends in the service.”

  “Hah, that’s a lie.”

  “No it isn’t.”

  “It is, because I don’t think you have plenty of friends of any kind.”

  True. “Fine. Acquaintances.”

  Smoke continued. “Unless you’ve spent time at home with them, you don’t really know them.”

  “All right, all right. I don’t want to get into this right now. But those guys and gals are willing to take a bullet for someone, so I’m willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Touché.”

  Thank you, Lord. “So, mister bounty hunter, what’s your next move: wait for them to leave, or go in there?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m giving you free range on this one, but if you’d rather I didn’t—”

  “Sam sent me the password,” he said.

  “We’ve been sitting here an hour when all along you had
the password.” And why do you text with Sam all the time and not Guppy?

  “I didn’t figure you’d let the valet park your car.”

  True. “Or you could give me the password and I’ll go inside alone,” she said.

  “I was thinking it should be the other way around.”

  “No. I trust the valet more at this point.”

  Smoke gave her a look.

  She gave him one back. “So what’s the plan to bring her in once we’re inside, bounty hunter?”

  “We isolate her from the pack.”

  “Pack? I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “I’m not worried.” Smoke lowered his binoculars from his eyes. “Somehow I don’t think someone that calls themselves Night Bird is a werewolf.”

  “She’s on the Black Slate. I have a feeling she must be something. I’m not exactly eager to find out what that is.”

  “Don’t worry. You can count on me. We’ll take her the other way out. Easy peasy.”

  “Why don’t we take this other way in?” she said. “I’m assuming Sam and Guppy told you where it is?”

  “Now you’re catching on.” He showed a little teeth. “But there’s a catch.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “We can’t go in with any weapons.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Park City Nights. The club was expensive, yet seedy all the same. Sidney and Smoke hung back at the bar. The mirrored cabinet stocked with top shelf liquors gleamed. The wine glasses and goblets were fine crystal. The music that thumped in the room was loud but manageable for conversation.

  “Would you like something to drink?” said the bartender. He was a lean black man, white shirt and black bowtie. A very clean look about him.

  “Edmund Fitzgerald,” Sidney said to him.

  “Make it two,” Smoke added.

  The bartender gave them a funny look. “Coming right up.” He made his way down to the end of the bar, opened up the cooler, and returned with two beer bottles with sinking ships on them. He removed the caps. “Enjoy.”

  Sidney took a taste.

  “Interesting choice,” Smoke said. His Adam’s apple rolled as he gulped. “Ah. Much better than the beer they make in prison.”

  “Don’t get carried away.”

  “Who, me?”

  She eased up onto the stool, eyeing the dance floor. Lithe hard-bodied women danced in gleaming jewels and fine linens, their movements seductive and erotic. Sidney’s throat tightened. There was something ancient and fascinating in how they moved. Almost like a ritual. Geez.

  “I don’t see her yet,” Smoke said in her ear.

  It brought her back to reality. She scanned the rest of the room. Half-naked women in bronze bird cages cavorted and grinded amid men huddled in conversation. The sinister atmosphere crept into Sid’s bones. Stirred her soul. These were not the people of the streets she’d sworn her protection to. They were something else.

  Smoke bobbed his chin to the beat. “Man, this place is filled with evil boogers. It’s like I can smell it. Want to dance?”

  “No,” she said, taking a sip. I want to drink.

  “I think it would be better than sitting here like a couple of toads. Come on. Show me your moves. I’m sure you have at least one.”

  “Oh, I’ve got more than one. You’ll just have to take my word on that.” She spied the dance floor. The women frolicked and shimmied all over the men and one another. Shameless. Inviting. “I’ve never seen people dance like that so early in the day before.”

  “It’s after midnight somewhere, so I guess that’s why they’re letting it all hang out. Before long I bet they scream and shout.”

  “I bet you’d like that.”

  Smoke shrugged his brows and finished his beer.

  A deeply tanned muscle man in a sliver of a gothic T-shirt walked by. There was a tattoo on his neck with a rising black sun on it.

  “We’ve definitely got the right place,” Smoke said, watching the man walk away. “The stink of Drake is all over it.”

  On the dance floor, the sultry dark and dusky women and their partners parted on the floor. A magnificent woman walked into the center. Angi Harlow. She wore a long silver dress trimmed in feathers and sequins with a plunging neck line. The curves of her body were without flaw. Her eyebrows sparkled with glitter. The music changed into something dark, passionate, and ceremonial. What is going on here?

  “Night Bird is one fine lady. It’s a shame she’s a soul-sucking criminal,” Smoke said, taking his last sip of beer. “Makes me thirsty.”

  Sidney had been to a Persian wedding years back and enjoyed the incredible dances. This was like that but with ten times the passion and filled with erotic steam. Morning Glory. They’re gonna rip their clothes off at any moment. She took a long drink. Smoke nudged her out of her trance.

  “Four o’clock,” he said, eyeing the edges of the dance floor. “And eight o’clock. Huh, rock around the clock it seems.”

  Goons. Bullish men in dark suits and glasses stood around the edge of the dance floor with their arms crossed over their chests. She really does have a lot of henchmen. There was the bulge of a concealed gun underneath each man’s jacket. Sidney knew the type. A lot of former athletes and vets who liked the spicy benefits of the macho life turned mercenary. It reminded her of a movie scene with Columbia drug lords. The Night Bird Cartel. How nice.

  “Hey,” said the man sitting beside her. “Hey, gorgeous. You want some?”

  He’s wasn’t handsome, but his clothing and watch were exquisite. He had five lines of cocaine lined up on the bar. He seemed familiar.

  “No, thanks.”

  He grabbed her arm. “Come on. I insist.”

  “No, thanks,” she said, plucking his fingers away.

  “Nobody tells me no, lady.” He grabbed at her. She backed into Smoke. Two large bouncers appeared and locked their arms around her accoster. They picked him up off the floor. “No, no, I’m sorry guys,” the man pleaded. “I was just flirting with the lady!” They escorted him out of sight.

  “Interesting,” Sid said, watching the bartender wipe the cocaine off the counter. She turned her attention back to the dance floor. Hips and shoulders swaying, Night Bird had her hungry eyes fastened on Smoke. One of her goons on the edge of the dance floor approached.

  The bulldog of a man was bald and wore heavy rings on his fingers. “Night Bird wants to dance with you, fella,” he said in a thick accent.

  “I’m with someone,” Smoke said, “and I’m not the best dancer.”

  The man, broader than Smoke but not quite as tall, cracked his neck from side to side and said, “Get out there now, before I put all those pretty teeth out.”

  “I—”

  “Bub,” the goon said, “she ain’t a patient lady, and I’m not a patient man.”

  “Sure,” Smoke said, setting his bottle on the bar. “I’m going.” He eased his way around the thug, headed to the dance floor, and took Night Bird’s extended hand in his.

  Sidney felt flames shoot through her as the woman’s hand caressed his back and went over his butt and down the backs of his legs. Damn Dirty Bird!

  CHAPTER 25

  After about two minutes of bumping and grinding, the music changed to something slower and more seductive. Ears red underneath her dark locks, Sidney was impressed with how Smoke handled himself. He’s a decent dancer. I’ll give him that. The strapping man towered over the men and women on the starlit dancefloor, except for Night Bird. In her heels, she was almost as tall as he. As the music slowed, the exotic woman wrapped her arms around his waist and drew him in close.

  Can’t wait to see you in your bird cage, whore.

  As Sid finished her thoughts, she found Night Bird’s eyes on hers. The woman’s mysterious gaze was inviting as she nestled her head against Smoke’s muscular chest. Like a flash of the camera, she winked. Sidney’s head spun a little, and she bumped back into the bar. She felt those icy spiders crawling over the goosebumps on
her arms.

  What was that?

  It was that same seductive power that AV had over her, paralyzing her reason and opening the gates to her lusts. She took a long draw from her beer and looked away.

  Get it together, Sid. Butterflies and Pancakes!

  It didn’t help that Smoke seemed to be enjoying himself. He smiled as his lips moved in conversation. Sidney wanted to know what he was saying to her and what she was saying to him. She realized she needed to distract herself. She started counting. The guests. The entertainers. The staff, bouncers, and most importantly, Night Bird’s bodyguards.

  Eight thugs. Great.

  Extracting their mark wouldn’t be easy. All of the men were armed with pistols or possibly small Uzis. A single elevator, the one they had taken, led up and out. By it was posted a guard who was almost as wide as the elevator itself. She turned and motioned to the bartender.

  “Another beer from the lakes, my lady friend?”

  “No thanks. Um,” she smiled and wiggled up to him. “I was kinda curious. What happened to that guy snorting all of those lines? I feel bad for him.”

  “Don’t feel bad for that guy. He’s a real jerk, a good tipper, but a jerk. He should have known better.”

  “I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt. I’m a peacemaker. He’ll be all right, won’t he?”

  The bartender’s eyes drifted toward the kitchen doors. “Lady, don’t ask questions that you don’t want the answers to, especially in a place like this.” He leaned closer. His tone became grim. “You’re new, so I’m going to cut you a break and pretend you didn’t ask me anything. Do you understand?’

  Sidney swallowed and widened her eyes. “Sure.” You’ve given me all I need. “Uh, where’s the powder room?”

  He pointed. “That way.”

  “Thanks.”

  Passing the kitchen on her way to the bathroom, she slowed and cracked open the windowless door. About ten people were busy at work in white outfits and red aprons. A waitress in a feathered cocktail dress bustled by. Making a quick scan of the area, Sidney noticed a service elevator in the rear. Perfect. A man was seated by it in a metal folding chair. His suit jacket was draped over the back, and he had two pistols strapped under his heavy shoulders. A shotgun rested in his lap. Not perfect.