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

by Craig Halloran

  “Look,” Guppy said. “He hits us up. We feed him. You know the routine. It’s all pretty down-low unless he calls us.” He cleared his throat. “He could be in prison somewhere for all I know. The truth is, we get odd requests from him all the time.”

  “What was his last request?”

  “I can’t tell you that,” Guppy said. “Not unless you’re a team member.”

  “Quit being silly; there is no team.” She rubbed her forehead. She wanted to leave, but Megan was having such a good time. She looked happier than Sid had seen her in weeks. And there was always a lingering warmth about Smoke’s place. It was like a cozy cabin in the woods. “There’s just you two, covering for Smoke.”

  “Somebody’s getting awfully frosty over there,” Sam said. “I better put a sweater on if this keeps up.”

  “Oh, be quiet,” Sid said. “Geez, can I make some coffee or something?”

  “Oh, let me,” Guppy said, jumping out of his chair. “I’ll love making fresh brew.”

  Sam resumed her seat on the couch and sank in. Before long, the strong aroma of coffee drifted into her nostrils. Sam was quiet, but Guppy rumbled an old hymn of some sort under his breath. Considering her options, Sid decided to hang out for a while. She hadn’t had much adult company in weeks. Why not?

  “Here you go,” Guppy said, handing her a ceramic mug with a handle on it. “You take it black, right?”

  “The blacker the better.” She took a sip. “Good. Very good.”

  Guppy eased in behind her. “This is one of the best parts of being a bounty hunter, enjoying some joe until all the action starts. The truth is, we’ve been pretty bored. I mean, we’ve been working the routine stuff with bail bondsmen, but not the, you know, supernatural stuff.”

  They all spent the next hour talking about black suns, the Drake, and the Black Slate. Even though Sidney wasn’t really supposed to talk about the confidential information, she didn’t care. She wasn’t an agent anymore. She filled them in on what she and Smoke had seen. The Minotaur and the gargoyles. Sam especially hung on every word while Megan watched a kids’ movie on the television with the headphones on.

  “You really saw a minotaur?” Sam said, filing Sid’s nails. “I mean, bull’s head and everything?”

  “Horns too,” Sid smiled. All this talk got her juices flowing. That was one thing about Smoke. They had that bond. All the things they’d seen together. She loved talking about it with him. And for some strange reason, she enjoyed watching him eat, too. “But those gargoyles were some weird little things.”

  Sam grabbed her by the shoulder of her shirt and said, “I want to see those gargoyles! Man, Smoke didn’t tell us anything!”

  “Didn’t tell you anything when?”

  “Well, you know, whenever.” Sam started filing Sid’s nails really fast. “Don’t be so paranoid. Smoke never tells us as much as he should. He’s tight lipped about a lot of things.”

  “So are you,” Sid said. “The both of you.” She pulled her hand away. “Look, this is a bad idea.”

  “Ooh, you are testy,” Sam said. She snatched Sid’s hand back. “Now let me finish this.”

  “No. Megan!” Sid yelled. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Megan took off her headphones. “What?”

  “I said it’s time to go.”

  “Aw, but I want to stay. Just a little longer,” the girl pleaded. “Please?”

  “Yeah, Please?” Sam said. “We haven’t even had ice cream yet.”

  “No, we’re going.” Sid finished off her coffee, got up, and took the Buffalo book off the table. “Thanks for the coffee, Gilmore. And thanks for doing Megan’s nails, Samantha.”

  “But,” Samantha started to speak.

  But Guppy held her off with his hand. The roughhewn man stood up. “We’re here if you ever need us, Sid.”

  “Hey, what’s that mean?” Megan said, pointing at one of the computer screens.

  It was flashing red.

  Guppy rushed over and squinted his eyes, then said, “I’ll be. We got a hit on the Buffalo Brothers already.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Sidney cruised down the road. Guppy was buckled into the passenger, seat eyeing the dashboard of her Hellcat.

  “You picked a fine machine,” he said. “What’s the fastest you’ve taken her up to?”

  “One-fortyish,” she said, cracking a smile. She felt good, being on the road, tracking some thugs down. It felt so good that she felt a little guilty leaving Megan behind with Sam. But the girl and woman hit it off great. She didn’t want to ruin Megan’s evening. Her niece deserved a little pampering and ice cream once in a while. Sid put her foot down on the gas. It pinned her and Guppy to their seats. They blasted by a pair of tractor trailers.

  “Like that?”

  “Love it,” he said, eyeing the speedometer. “Man, one-twenty in a flash. I like it.” He unzipped a leather pistol case on his lap. Inside was a pair of .45 caliber semiautomatic pistols. They were stainless steel 1911’s. He charged the slides on both of them. “The boys haven’t been out to play in a while.”

  “Interesting hardware,” she said. “Are those Detonics Combat Masters?”

  “Boy, you sure know your guns, girl.”

  “Yes, well, uh, those are pretty old school.”

  “Well, I’m pretty old. But I hated school.” He laughed. “So, hotshot, what’s your plan if we find these guys? You gonna take them down and haul them in to the judge? Or maybe we just gun them down, like Matt Dillon.”

  “I’d like that, but I’m not sure. I’ll think of something when I get there.”

  He leaned back in his seat. “Really? I took you for a planner.”

  “We’ll see what happens when we get there.”

  “Works for me.”

  They cruised back toward DC, got off the highway a couple miles outside the heart, and parked the Hellcat at a small shopping plaza. The mall’s best days had been over decades ago, and the blacktop had cracks sprouting grass. Most of the yellow markers for parking spaces had faded away.

  “Huh,” Guppy said. “I haven’t been down here since I was a teenager. Boy, half the places look closed.”

  “Well, it is after hours,” she said, tucking her key inside the pocket of her jeans and opening the door. “But I smell danger.”

  “Huh-huh,” Guppy said, closing his door. “I hate to say it, but I hope you’re right.”

  There were cars spread out all over the parking lot. Small crowds gathered here and there in little tailgate parties. Many of the cars were souped up. Men and women sat in their cars’ seats, doors open and engines revving. There was loud music pumping and beer bottles being sucked on, and the smell of weed was in the air.

  A young woman approached. She had a dark complexion, ratty black hair, and smoky olive eyes. Her lip was pinned with rings. She smelled like she had just rinsed off in bong water. “Nice wheels, lady friend. Nice wheels. Hellcat. Woo. You got to enter. Got to enter.” She held out her hand. “Take a look around. I’ll keep an eye on it for you.” She winked. “A real close eye.”

  “Sure,” Sid said. “I’ll set you up when I get back.”

  “No, I need something now.”

  Sid stepped on the girl’s toe and got right in her face. “You be here when I come back later, and I’ll take you for a spin, understand?”

  The girl grimaced. “All right. All right. Tough lady friend. I like.”

  Sid eased off her foot. “See you soon.” She and Guppy walked off.

  “You sure have a way with people.” He chuckled.

  “Funny.” Sid looked at all the loiterers. ”Makes me wonder if any cops ever come around.” She started to stroll through the parking lot with Guppy at her side. No one paid them any mind. It gave her a feeling that she was in a bad post-apocalyptic movie. A scene from Escape from New York, perhaps. She glanced at the lampposts above. Most were out, and the lights flickered on some of them. Looking up at the cameras mounted on the posts, Sid said to
Guppy, “Is that where you think you got your hit?”

  “I’d say so,” Guppy said, rubbing his short beard. “Eh, let’s take a look around. All this funny smoke is making me feel a little lightheaded.”

  “You’re worried about that? I didn’t realize your bounty hunter department did drug testing. I might not be eligible.”

  “You! Really?”

  “I’m not an agent anymore, you know.”

  Guppy stopped and looked at her. “Pah, you’re just kidding. Right?”

  “Come on.” They walked the sidewalk, passing several stores. Most were still in business. Others had realtor signs in them. Sid stopped in front of a pair of glass doors with a realtor sign hung inside. “Drake Real Estate. No wonder this place stinks.”

  “You can say that again.” Guppy scratched his back. “Just looking at those people makes me feel like something’s crawling all over me.”

  “Let’s keep walking,” she said, rubbing her arms. As she walked, her keen eyes sorted through the crowd. If this was Drake property, then there was no telling what sort of fiends were running loose out there. The sound of revving engines caught her ears. Really loud exhaust notes were blasting across the lot. The people started heading toward the sound. “I guess it’s time to see what this racing is all about.”

  Easing in with the throng of hoodlums, they made their way to the main strip of road that circled the mall. Sid checked her phone. It was ten past eleven, and she didn’t have any messages. She didn’t see any signs of the Buffalo Brothers, either. The closer they got to the action, the louder the exhaust notes became. She fought the urge to cover her ears. Beside her, Guppy said something that the engines cut off. “What?”

  “I said, let’s get a closer look!” He took the lead and pushed his stocky frame through the crowd until they made it onto the curb running along the main street. “This outta do.”

  Flames burst from the tailpipe of a lightning-black truck. It had four doors and giant off-road wheels and was lifted an extra foot off the ground. The plate said, “So Long.”

  “Ford F250,” she and Guppy said at the same time. “Wish I could see who was driving,” she said. She grabbed a frail young man in a dark-grey sweatshirt. “Give me the story here.”

  “One lap around the mall. The straight stretch here gets nasty. Those dudes in that black hulk got lots of nitrous. They usually win. But maybe not tonight.”

  The crowd started to cheer as another car with dim lights pulled alongside the black truck and revved up the engine. It was a primer-grey Camaro. Smoke’s car.

  CHAPTER 11

  A jolt of electricity went through Sid. “It can’t be.”

  “It is. It is,” the dude said. “That’s Grey Racer. People been talking about this race all week long. No one’s beat the Black Hulk, and no one’s beat Grey Racer. They’ve never faced off before.” He pulled out a wad of cash and squeezed it between his dirty fingernails. “Wanna make a bet? If not, I got to hustle.”

  Sid turned her back on the frail little creep. “Come on,” she said to Guppy.

  “Where?”

  “To get a closer look.” Keeping herself out of sight, she marched up through the crowd to the two revving vehicles just as the Black Hulk smoked all four tires. She covered her nose. Through the stinky mist, she noticed the passenger hanging his arm out the window. He stuck his head out and started screaming and waving his arm up and down. The crowd squalled with glee. “Idiots.”

  Suddenly, the hood of the Camaro floated up. The back wheels spun. The engine roared.

  Sid coughed. That’s enough of this.

  The truck revved up again.

  Sid turned and found herself looking at the man in the truck’s cabin.

  A pretty girl in high heels and little else was standing next to the truck, talking to him through the window.

  Sid grabbed Guppy by the sleeve. “It’s them.”

  “I’ll be,” he said, fanning the smoke from his eyes. “I don’t suppose this is a coincidence.”

  It was them, the Buffalo Brothers. Both men had an air of superiority about them. They yucked it up with the girls that scurried around their windows. Now standing on Smoke’s passenger side, Sid noted many other women fawning all over his car and blowing him kisses. His windows were closed, and the glass was tinted. She couldn’t tell if it was him in there or not. “I’ll be back.”

  “No, Sid!” Guppy yelled out after her.

  She slipped away from his reaching hand and snuck up to the Camaro’s side. Two girls blocked the passenger-side door. “Move.”

  “Yeah, right,” one said, chewing a mouthful of gum. The other had her nose down inside her phone.

  Sid shoved them both out of the way and popped the door open. Leaning inside, her eyes widened at the sight of the passenger. It was the little blonde, Agent Rebecca Lang, in a burgundy miniskirt. That rookie data analyst Cyrus Tweel had been dating. “What are you doing in here?”

  “Me?!” the younger woman said. “I’m on a case. Now you need to go before you blow my cover!”

  Crammed in the driver’s seat and strapped in was a man wearing a navy-blue driver’s suit. A gunmetal-grey helmet covered his head. He flipped up the mirrored visor. “Hey, Sid. How’ve you been?”

  Blood charging, Sidney roared, “Get out, Rebecca!”

  “I’m not getting out. Hey! Get off my seatbelt!”

  Sid fumbled with the clasps on the harness that was like what you saw in racing cars. “Get out!”

  “You are assaulting a federal officer, you retiree!” Rebecca squealed, swatting at Sid’s hands. “Go away, or I’ll press charges!”

  “Sid,” Smoke said. “Go. I’m on a gig.” He motioned to the front.

  A woman with a long white scarf and even longer white hair stepped out between the cars and raised her arms.

  Smoke revved the engine. “It’s racing time.”

  Sid glared deep into his dark eyes. “We’re going to talk when this is over.”

  “No,” Rebecca said defiantly, “you won’t.”

  “We’ll see, you little ferret.” Sid backed out.

  Rebecca slammed the door shut.

  The crowd erupted in cheers just as the woman with the scarf dropped her arms. Powerful engines unleashed throaty roars. Wheels spun. Rubber burned. Everyone was left standing in the smoke as the two cars sped away.

  Shoulders sagging and chest heaving, Sid watched the cars disappear around the first bend. What is she doing here?! Scanning the crowd, which was now on the move, she saw no sign of Guppy. Instead, her eyes met up with a pair of frosty eyes.

  Her ex-fiancé was storming her way. “What in the hell are you doing here?” he asked her, his jowls jiggling and his glasses fogging up.

  She looked him up and down. He wore some torn-up jeans over sandals, a dingy grey sweatshirt, a camo ball cap, and glasses that had clearly been designed for birth control. “I love racing. You know that.”

  “Get your ass out of here, Sid!” He was gritting his teeth and obviously fighting the urge to yell, knowing that a scene would blow his pathetic attempt at being under cover.

  “Are you and Rebecca working the Black Slate?” Sid asked, sweetly feigning friendliness.

  “You need to shut your hole,” he said, glancing around. “That’s an order.”

  “I don’t work for you anymore, Cyrus. I’m free to be anywhere I want.”

  “Look, I don’t know how you wound up here, but you are interfering with a federal investigation.” Looking around, he was fighting even harder to keep his voice down. His arm shook when he pointed back toward the highway. “You need to get the hell out of here. Now!”

  “I don’t have to do anything.” She tilted her head and smiled her sweetest smile. She would have batted her eyelashes if she thought he would have noticed.

  “You are endangering us. Not to mention yourself.” When Cyrus saw that line of reasoning wasn’t getting him anywhere, he adjusted his ball cap and tried another tactic. �
�Of course, I’m not surprised that you and Mr. Smoke managed to hook up again. You know, he was under strict orders not to work with anyone on the outside. Especially you. And now you show up? Heh, he’s not going to get out again anytime soon. He blew it.”

  “Wait a minute,” she argued. “I didn’t have any idea he was here, and I haven’t seen or heard from him since before I left.”

  “Sure, Sid. Sure. I should have known he was sneaking in a little something on the side.” He started away. “Look at you, giving booty calls to criminals.”

  She balled up her fist.

  “Oh, seems I hit a little close to home,” Cyrus said. He looked so sure of himself now that he could see he was getting to her. It made her even madder. “Go ahead,” he said, “Take a shot if it makes you feel better. That way, I can take both of you out with one stone.” He shook his head. “Man, Sid, you’re such a disappointment.”

  “Are you friggin’ kidding me? This is how you act?” She poked him in the chest. “I’m not a liar, and you know that. I’m here because those goons in that truck killed my friend.”

  Cyrus eyed her. “What friend?”

  “Jake Miller.”

  Cyrus’s brows lifted. Rubbing his chest, he said, “Huh, even Smoke didn’t know about that. Look, I’ll give you a pass, but you need to stay away from this case. Far away. I mean it, Sid.”

  “Well, I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve been hired to bring those murderers in.”

  “Oh really, you’re a bounty hunter now?” He laughed. “Who hired you?”

  “Me.”

  A clamor rose up from the crowd. The grey Camaro screeched around the corner. The black truck was on its tail. One man was hanging outside the truck’s window, aiming a gun. The sharp pop of gunfire rang out above the roaring engines.

  “They’re shooting!” Sid said, going for her gun.

  A man running by said, “Anything goes! Anything goes! It’s only lap one of the Death Race.”