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

by Craig Halloran

  Sid moved out of the banquet room and over to the ballroom, where the people gathered in a big circle eyeing the floor. The center of the floor slid back like a great eye, making a gaping hole in the middle.

  Morning Glory!

  The men and women started chanting and pumping their fists. “Bird Cage! Bird Cage! Bird Cage!”

  A great raven made from blackened iron rose from the gaping floor, rising higher and higher. It was perched on a round metal bird cage maybe twenty feet wide and over ten feet tall. It filled almost a third of the room.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  She glanced up at the balcony. Night Bird stood looking downward with two deaders in pea coats on either side of her.

  On the main floor, the serving men in hawk-masks opened up the door to the big cage. Other servants pushed the smaller bird cages with men inside over and let them out. Inside the cage they went, and the door was latched shut. The men inside—each coated in bright colorful war paint—were well built: stout and hard muscled. One shadow boxed, stretched and warmed up. The other stroked his wild beard. Somewhere a gong sounded, and the room fell silent.

  Sidney controlled her gaping. Really, they couldn’t go see this anywhere else? Couldn’t they just stay home and watch Fight Club?

  Night Bird spoke up. “No mercy. Winner take all!”

  The crowd let out a cheer.

  Sidney pushed her way through the throng. Now was the best time to find Smoke. Someone had to be holding him somewhere. Wouldn’t surprise me if there was a dungeon in here.

  Night Bird raised her arms and lowered them.

  Bong!

  Sid glanced back over her shoulder. Up inside the cage, the men circled. One, sleek and bald, jabbed at the brawny bearded one. His blows smacked into flesh. The bearded man snatched the man by the arms and drove his knees into his chest. In a blink, the bald man was hoisted over the bearded man’s head.

  The people roared.

  A second later, the bearded man slammed the struggling man head first into the floor. Crack! The witnesses gasped, and the ballroom fell silent. The bald man moved no more.

  The bearded fighter beat his chest and let out a triumphant howl. He flexed his muscles and yelled up at the balcony, “Who’s next? Who’s next?”

  The crowd started chanting. “Wild Jack! Wild Jack! Wild Jack!”

  Wild Jack? It was the name of a legendary MMA fighter. Sidney hadn’t recognized him with the beard. He had been clean-shaven and worn a Mohawk, if she remembered it right. This is insane, not to mention highly illegal. She took out her phone and sent a text to Ted Howard. Night Bird or no Night Bird, I’m breaking this party up. I’m a witness to a murder. She pressed send, but the signal bar was dead. No!

  Bong!

  “Well done, Wild Jack,” Night Bird said. “Are you ready for another?”

  “I’m not even warmed up yet,” he shouted up to her, “But yes, milady, I’m ready.”

  “Excellent, because we have a newcomer that I think you just might find worthy.” She clapped her hands. “Bring him in!”

  A pair of grand double doors opened underneath the balcony. Another bird cage was pulled in, containing a man with his back turned to them with his head down. The people murmured and pressed toward the cage.

  “Make a hole! Out of the way!” said one of the hawk-masked men.

  Oh no! Sidney’s gut churned. She squeezed through the crowd and crept up on the cage. She got a good look at the face. It was Smoke. His shoulders were bruised, his complexion pale, and he had a sick and haggard look about him. His weak eyes met hers. “Smoke?”

  His head lifted, and he coughed. “You need to go,” he said in a raspy voice. “Just go.”

  Keeping up with the cage, she said, “What happened?”

  “What didn’t happen?” He winced. “Just go. They’ll see you. Forget about the Slate.” His eyes hardened. “Forget about all of this and go.”

  “But—” she stammered.

  “Move it, woman,” said one of the servants, shoving her aside. They started pushing the crowd back from the cage. “Clear out! All of ya!”

  The throng eased back and Sidney drifted in with the masses. A hollowness filled her. Smoke’s rock-solid demeanor was gone. A world champion MMA fighter waited inside the cage, grinding his fist into his paw. I have to stop this. He’ll die.

  The crowd hummed with new energy.

  Smoke’s disheveled form lumbered out of his cage and stepped over the bald man’s dead body. Stooped over, his battered muscular body was riddled with cuts, scrapes, and bruises. He shuffled toward the center of the cage, facing his aggressor. The cage door closed with a clank.

  “This is going to be a massacre,” one man said.

  “I hope there’s blood this time,” added a woman.

  “There’s blood. There’s always blood,” the man in the eagle mask replied. “Wild Jack will bring it all night long. He’s never been defeated.”

  Sidney’s chest tightened. Her fingers went to her gun. What am I going to do? I can’t watch him die.

  “Kill him, Wild Jack!” a strong voice cried out. “No mercy on that man! I want to see blood on those hands.”

  Sidney cocked her head and looked at the man. He had a husky bowling-pin build and meaty hands. He squeezed the hips of the women on either side of him.

  “Wait till you see this, girls. Wait and see. That bastard in the cage has it coming.”

  Congressman Wilhelm!

  CHAPTER 34

  Sidney’s jaw muscles tightened. If Congressman Wilhelm was there, who else was? All around her, people in bird masks talked, some in different languages and others with bad American accents. They all wanted blood. Mayhem. Death.

  Who are these people? Why don’t they get in the cage!

  She shuffled through the crowd toward the cage, bumping Congressman Wilhelm, jostling his drink.

  “Idiot! Watch where you’re going!”

  She didn’t turn.

  Night Bird clapped her hands, and the crowd fell silent. “Life to the victor! Death to the fallen! Agreed?”

  The people shouted back in agreement. Inside the cage, Smoke stood a few paces away from Wild Jack with his shoulder dropped. The bearded warrior, all lathered up, mopped the sweat from his brow. He spat. “This man doesn’t seem fit for fighting!”

  “I don’t expect him to put up much of a fight,” Night Bird replied. “He crossed me. That’s how I want it.”

  “I see,” Wild Jack said, stroking his beard. He pumped his fists in the air. “I’ll make it a prolonged and painful death then!”

  Smoke burst into motion, striking Wild Jack in the throat. The burly man’s eyes popped wide. The seasoned fighter brought his fists down. Smoke slipped behind the man and locked Wild Jack’s arms and neck up. The bearded warrior gagged, and his face quickly went from beet red to purple.

  Get him, Smoke!

  Wild Jack slapped at Smoke’s arms, spat and struggled. The muscles in Smoke’s corded arms bulged. His face filled with strain. Wild Jack’s eyes rolled up inside his head, and Smoke took him to the floor.

  The crowd unleashed a fury of angry boos and profanities. It didn’t matter. It was over.

  Smoke released Wild Jack, rose back to his feet wincing, looked up at Night Bird, and shrugged.

  The gong sounded, and the crowd quieted.

  “I didn’t even give the signal to start the match, and that’s cheating,” Night Bird said. “Not to mention that I said it was to the death. I see Wild Jack is still breathing. Or should I say, sleeping?”

  The attendees craned their necks toward the cage and murmured.

  “Kill him yourself,” Smoke said back to Night Bird.

  Night Bird laughed. “Oh, that’s noble. How quaint. But either you can kill him or I’ll have to kill her.” She pointed straight down at Sidney. “Take her!”

  How did she know?

  The array of guests turned on her. The brutes in the hawk masks shoved the mass
es aside and came straight for her. Sidney pulled out her gun and fired three shots into the ceiling.

  Blam! Blam! Blam!

  Screams and frightened cries were followed by dozens of people scrambling for the doors. Sidney lowered her head and melded in with the rampaging throng.

  Try to find me now, you idiots!

  As the crowd pushed toward the main entrance, she noticed two men in suits pushing Congressman Wilhelm out the door. The bodyguards in bird masks formed a blockade at the main entrance, patting everyone down with force. Above, on the balcony, Night Bird was screaming, but Sidney didn’t look back. Instead, she snatched a parakeet mask from one woman’s face and disappeared underneath the stairs that led up to the balcony. Gathering her thoughts and catching her breath, she waited.

  I’ve got to get Smoke out of here.

  Five minutes into the wait, she switched masks, slipped off her coat, and reentered the scene. The manor was half empty. The excitement from the gunfire had dulled. The servants were picking up the mess. Others searched. The remaining party guests had resumed their talks, making up half-baked stories. Eyeing the balcony, Sidney noticed Night Bird was gone.

  Where could that bird brain be?

  She huddled with a crowd of talking guests that had gathered near the cage. Smoke was still inside, sitting on the floor, head down and shivering.

  What is wrong with him?

  Checking her surroundings, she eased closer to the cage and cleared her throat.

  Smoke didn’t move.

  Putting a stagger in her step, she teetered around the rim and hiccupped from time to time.

  Smoke crawled over on his hands and knees, saying, “Water. I need water.”

  She whispered. “It’s me, Sid.”

  “Water,” he replied, then under his breath he said, “I know. I can handle this. Just go.” He coughed.

  “Are you all right or not?” she said, still whispering.

  He cocked his head back toward Wild Jack and said, “Better than him.” He coughed again. “What a tool. If you’re going to stick around, get the keys. But I suggest you go. Night Bird has keen instincts.”

  “I’m not leaving without you.”

  “Then we might not be leaving at all.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Are you sure you’re all right with that?”

  “I’m good. Let me go find you some water.”

  “A milkshake would be better.”

  Now that the crowd had settled down, the hawk-masked guards began making rounds and patting everyone down. Sidney still had her gun tucked down in her pants. Great. She made her way over to one of the banquet tables, kneeled down, and put her gun beneath the curtains. She then sauntered over toward one of the guards with her hands raised over her head.

  “Yoo hoo, you haven’t searched me yet,” she said to the nearest one. She nuzzled up to him. “Pat me down, and be sure to be thorough. And if you do a good job I’ll pat you down too!”

  The guard grunted. “Be still.”

  She draped her arms over him and pulled him close. “How can I be still with a brute like you around? Hmmm?” Lord, he smells like English Leather.

  He ran his hands over her chest and waist, taking full advantage of the moment.

  “You have great hands.”

  “I’m a student at a massage therapy school.” He patted her rear. “You’re clear.”

  “No doubt you’ll be a good one,” she said, tickling his chin. “Anything else?”

  “No,” he said, starting to walk away.

  “Oh, well, can I get that man in the cage some water? I feel sorry for the dear.”

  There was a grinding of gears and a clank of metal. The giant bird cage started to lower back into the floor.

  “I think it’s a little late for that now, but don’t worry, he won’t be thirsty much longer.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because dead men don’t thirst.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Sidney retrieved her gun and made her way up to a gathering crowd that stood watching the cage go down into the floor. Smoke sat inside the cage, head down.

  “Bummer,” someone said, “no more violence. Let’s go.”

  The cage sunk into the darkness and rattled when it hit bottom. Gears grinded and the floor began to close.

  “Wow, it looks like he’s being swallowed whole. Too bad for that loser,” a man said, guzzling a bottled beer. “Better him than me. I wonder where they find these goons anyway.”

  Sidney crept toward the rim. The hole was seconds from closing.

  “Hey, lady, you better back off. That floor will cut your leg off.” The man laughed. “It wouldn’t be the first time that happened, either.”

  The light over the grand birdcage faded.

  Sidney swallowed. I’m not losing you again. She jumped on the sliding door of the closing circle.

  “Are you crazy?” the man said. “Get off of there!”

  Crazy enough! She jumped through the narrowing doorway into the darkness. She hit the top of the cage with a bang and rolled down the side, hitting the floor hard. “Oof!” Slowly, she sat up, rubbing her hip and shaking her head.

  “What have we here?” The man’s voice was gruff. He approached, tall and lanky and wearing a pea coat. “Looks like a little bird fell out of her nest.” He extended his hand. “Let me help you up, my dear.”

  She reached for his hand.

  He took it, started to pull her up, and drove his booted toe into her gut.

  She doubled over with a groan.

  “Men, I got her! I got—ulp!”

  Smoke stretched his arms through the bars and grabbed the man’s neck and collar. He jerked the man’s face into the metal. Bang! Bang! Bang!

  The man sagged to the floor with his face bleeding.

  “Find the key,” Smoke urged. “Hurry!”

  Sidney fumbled through the man’s pockets and belt and found nothing. A scuffle of feet and agitated voices echoed down the corridor. “He doesn’t have it.”

  Smoke reached into the front of her jeans and pulled her gun out.

  “Hey!” she said.

  He marched over to the cage door and shot the lock off. It sounded different underground.

  Pop!

  And then he stepped outside and tossed her back the gun. “Thanks,” he said, coughing.

  They stood in a cavernous room, almost the size of the ballroom above. Oaken barrels lined the walls. Shelves were stacked up to the ceiling, loaded with unknown materials. The walls were cut rock, and three stone corridors led out. Smoke took her by the wrist and pulled her toward the one farthest from the onrush of guards.

  Blat—at! Blat—at! Blat—at!

  Sidney’s legs churned. Bullets whizzed by her head. Rock chips scattered from the wall. She returned fire.

  Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Smoke pushed through the exit door and bounded up the stairs. She kept pace, stumbled, bashed her knee on the metal step, and carried on, grimacing. They rushed through the door at the top and found themselves in a grand kitchen. They dashed to the other side of the room and found themselves inside one of the main halls.

  Voices cried out from all over. Footsteps echoed off the hardwood floors.

  “Stay close,” Smoke said.

  “No, you stay close,” she replied. “I’m rescuing you. It’s not the other way around.”

  Smoke coughed. “If you say so.”

  They took a curved stairway going up, away from the sound of voices. At the top was a long hallway with many bedroom doors. She jiggled the handles on one side. Smoke tried the other. The opposite end of the hall was a dead end.

  “Any luck?” she said, glancing back over her shoulder. Smoke was gone. A door gaped open on the other side. “Smoke?” A heavy scuffle caught her ear. Inside, a deader had Smoke by the waist and picked up off the floor.

  “Close the door,” Smoke spit out. He drove an elbow into the deader’s eye socket. The lifeless creature shrugged it off and sl
ammed him to the floor.

  Sidney closed the door and locked it, closed in, and took aim.

  Smoke shook his head. “Don’t shoot it!”

  “Why?”

  “Too loud.” The deader got his tireless arms around Smoke’s neck. “Knife,” Smoke choked out, stretching his clutching hand and eyeing her ankle. His face reddened. “Knife, now.”

  She slid the blade from her boot.

  “Don’t just stand there, stab it!”

  “Stabbing’s not really my thing.”

  “Give it!” Smoke snatched the blade from her hand and drove it backward into the deader’s eye. The creature’s body stiffened, but it held on. Smoke twisted inside its grip, ripped himself free, plunged the blade into its heart, and gave it a twist.

  Churk!

  The deader went limp.

  Gasping, Smoke wiped the blade on the bedspread. “Stabbing isn’t really your thing?”

  She shrugged. “It seemed weird.”

  He staggered toward the window. “Some rescue.” Peering outside, he said, “I think you can make a break for it from here.” He opened the window. “The ivy’s pretty heavy on these walls.”

  “And just what do you think you’ll be doing?”

  “Bringing in Night Bird.”

  “You need to forget about her.”

  “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “Not after what she did to me. Did to those others. She’s going down.”

  She grabbed his chin, looked straight into his eyes, and said, “There’s too many, Smoke. Let’s cut our losses and go. You’re sick.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He tried to nudge her toward the window.

  “You weren’t fine five minutes ago.”

  “Of course I was,” he said, coughing. “It was all going according to my plan until you showed up.”

  “Me?” She backed up into the room. “You’d be dead if not for me.”

  He shook his head. “No I wouldn’t.”

  The closet door popped, and with a creak it slowly opened. It was dim inside. Probably some partygoers. Sidney peered inside, weapon ready. “Come out with your hands up.”

  A pale and ghastly figure rushed out of the closet.

  Sidney’s finger froze on the trigger.