“Hey, I wanted to stop by and talk to you,” James explained. “I’m at home,” he lied. “So I wanted to make sure I didn’t drive across town for no reason. When are you going to be home?”
“I’m at home now, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going out of town for a few days, and I’m leaving in the next thirty minutes. Not only that, this is harassment. Everyone knows the cops won’t stand up to you, but if you call again, I’m going to tell Father McCartney you’re harassing me after I asked you to stop.”
James glanced at her darkened windows. “I’m not harassing you. I think something’s wrong. You don’t hunt bounties for as long as I did without picking up when people might be in trouble or scared or something. I can help you. I already talked to Father Rojas about this, and he said I should look into it, so it’s not like I can walk away with a clean conscience.”
Calista’s laugh sounded hysterical. “Are you kidding me? You went and harassed Father Rojas? You’re a crazy stalker. If you know what’s good for you… Screw it. I’ve got to go. I’m changing my number tomorrow. Next time you contact me, I’m calling the cops.” She ended the call.
James slipped his phone back into his coat. He stuck his hands in his pocket and waited for lights to turn on or the door to open.
Something’s wrong. But what? That was fucking terror in her voice, and it’s not because of me. I’d bet my restaurant on that. She’s just a college kid, though, so what could she even be involved in? Maybe stupid drug shit?
I’m sure the cops won’t mind if I loudly encourage a few dealers to leave town.
James cracked his knuckles before lightly knocking on the door. The unlocked door opened a few inches. He frowned. What kind of paranoid woman left her door unlocked?
Maybe she’s just lazy.
He knocked again and waited. No one called out or appeared in the next minute.
James pushed the door open. “Calista? You in here? It’s James Brownstone. We’ve got to talk about this shit. I don’t care if you think I’m not minding my business. I’m not a stalker. My wife put me up to this, and a man doesn’t tell his pregnant wife she’s being crazy if he wants to live until the next day.”
He narrowed his eyes as he finished opening the door. Shattered glass from broken picture frames littered the floor near the front door. The small flat-panel TV lay on the ground. The couch was spotted with holes ringed by charred, blackened fabric.
“Calista?” James bellowed, flipping on the light. A burned chair lay on its side, the floor untouched, which indicated magic had been used. Red-brown spots led from the kitchen. It didn’t look like enough blood to be a fatal wound, but any suspicious blood in a trashed apartment wasn’t a good sign.
He yanked out his gun and growled, “You in here? Because this shit doesn’t look like you’re okay.”
The light whir of the air conditioning was his only answer.
Am I too fucking late? Damn it.
James crept into the kitchen, his gun at the ready. Unlike the living room, other than the tall stack of dishes in the sink, the room wasn’t in disarray. His checks of the bathroom and bedroom revealed the same.
Calista wasn’t there, and the specific nature of the damage in the living room suggested something far more dangerous than drug dealers. He tucked his gun back into the holster. The legally correct move would be to contact the police, but if he needed to deliver revenge later, involving them early on could complicate matters. Davion might be able to follow a trail, but the obvious signs of magic also meant even the infomancer might have trouble.
Should I let Father Rojas and Father McCartney know? Nah. Same shit. The less they know about anything I might do beforehand, the better it is for them.
The harsh buzz of James’ phone snapped him out of his thoughts. To his surprise, the call was from Calista.
“Where the fuck are you?” James barked into the phone. “Your front door is open, and your living room is torn up. Don’t try to tell me you’re not in any fucking trouble.”
Someone clucked their tongue on the other end. “Tut, tut, Mr. Brownstone,” a man said in a cheerful tone. “Such inappropriate language to use when speaking to a young woman. You’re such a crass individual. I know that, of course, but encountering it directly is revealing.”
“Fuck that, and fuck you. Who are you, and where is Calista?”
“That isn’t information you need at this time,” the man responded, his voice still cheerful. “There’s only one important fact that’s relevant in this conversation, and that you should take under consideration. If anything, it’s arguably the single most important relevant piece of information.”
James took a deep breath. “And what’s that, asshole?”
“You’ve already seen her apartment, which of course I know because I’ve been watching it. But you visiting makes this easy. You understand what I am, I trust? Barbeque hasn’t rotted your brain?” The man chuckled.
“From where I stand, you’re a fucking wizard with a death wish.”
The man’s chuckle turned into a hearty laugh. “The latter I could quibble with, but the important thing is my possession of magical abilities, which means I’m not some mere gangster you can push around with ease.”
“I’ve killed plenty of wizards.”
“Let me make this immediately clear,” the wizard answered. “If you call the police, by the time they find this girl, she will be in pieces and burned to a crisp.”
James’ loud snarl would have frightened off an entire pack of rabid wolves. “Do you understand who you’re fucking with? Do you have any idea how many fuckers I’ve killed because they thought they could push me around? Even I don’t, because I lost count of all those pieces of shit. You’re just another number to me, asshole.”
“You’re quite the crude one, aren’t you?” The man sighed. “Yes, I’m well aware of the kind of savage you are. I’m not an idiot, Mr. Brownstone. That’s why I have a nice hostage now. I took your previous behavior into consideration.”
Damn it. I need to throw him off the scent.
“What makes you think I give a fuck about that girl?” James asked.
“Oh, let’s not attempt such feeble lies. If you didn’t care about Miss Everton, you wouldn’t be in her apartment after she so rudely tried to scare you off. It’s not as if I think you have a deep relationship with her, but your involvement with that orphanage is hardly a state secret. The kind of man who attends his church faithfully and gives money to a church orphanage is also the sort of man who isn’t going to leave one of his fellow parishioners and orphans in the hands of a nasty and homicidal wizard who likes to burn things. I’ll be nice, though. I’ll at least render her unconscious before I kill her. I’m not a total monster.”
James lowered the phone and smashed his fist into Calista’s coffee table. Splinters of wood shot from the table as the piece of furniture cracked in the middle and collapsed into two pieces.
“You can’t win against me,” he threatened, his voice low and infused with deadly promise. “I’m a man who has spent years finding all sorts of rogue magicals. I will fucking find you, and I will rip you apart. If you’re not a total damned idiot, then I shouldn’t need to list all the people I’ve put down throughout the years, and that’s just the ones who were public knowledge. Do you understand, dipshit?”
“That’s the thing about power, Mr. Brownstone,” the man replied. If he was afraid at all, his happy voice didn’t betray it. “It’s only useful if you’re willing and able to use it, and as long as I have this hostage, you won’t. I’ve studied you extensively, so much so I could write a lovely biography. Even before your…domestication, you weren’t a ruthless man willing to kill innocent people, let alone innocent young women. It’s why you were drawn into the entire affair with the Harriken, after all. Arguably, the fact that there’s an Alison Brownstone is proof of your weakness in regard to vulnerable young women.”
James snorted. “And you think you can succeed where an en
tire group of gangsters couldn’t? They had artifacts and hired magical hitmen.”
“I’ve studied their mistakes, and I think I’m more prepared, so yes. This doesn’t have to be a difficult situation, Mr. Brownstone, and it doesn’t have to end with anyone getting hurt, provided you act in a reasonable manner. You can do that, can’t you?”
“And what the fuck are you defining as ‘a reasonable manner?’” James snapped. “Because right now, I’m thinking reasonable is breaking you into two pieces instead of five.”
“You’re a wealthy man,” the cheerful wizard observed. “You could be far wealthier, but your investments and bounties alone mean you could never work a day for the rest of your life and be fine. And given your modest appetites, a lot of that money is wasted on you.”
James let out a dark chuckle. “What? You’re trying to squeeze money from me? That’s what this shit is?”
The man replied with a merry laugh. “I’m suggesting that all that money isn’t being effectively utilized. What good is money if you don’t spend it? You’re not doing your part to stimulate the economy, whereas a man of less simple needs will spread it around more. So, I would suggest you go retrieve, let’s say, two million in cash in a briefcase. You’re going to get that money in the next twenty-four hours and drop it off at a location I’ll pass along. If you don’t, you can spend some of it on Miss Everton’s funeral.”
“I’m going to really enjoy killing you,” James offered. “It’s gonna be quick, though. That’s not me being merciful. I just really, really want to kill you, and the killing’s the important part, not the process.”
“Oh, come now. Is your personal satisfaction more important than this young woman’s life?”
James tightened his jaw. Without any clues to Calista’s location, even if he had a portal, there was no way he could guarantee he could get there before the jolly bastard killed her.
“Why cash?” James asked. “Isn’t that a little old-school? Too traceable? Why not TrollCoin or shit like that?”
The wizard scoffed. “Don’t take me for the lackwits you’re used to hunting. As I said, Mr. Brownstone, I’ve studied you extensively. I know your agency employs hackers and infomancers. Mundane criminals might think that cryptocurrencies will save them from you, but I know better. I’ve got the magic and artifacts to keep you from tracking that cash once I have it.”
“Even if you get the cash from me, you’re dead. You realize that? All I have to do is put out word to every organized crime group in this city that you fucked with me, and if I don’t find you, they will. They’ll make an example out of you, so I don’t make an example out of them.”
“Oh, how nasty of you.” The wizard clucked his tongue again. “But I’ll have two million dollars in addition to my existing funds, and it’s not as if I need to stay in LA. I hear Chile’s nice since you cleaned it up a while back, but I’ll have the entire world. You can always say no. Turn me down. Be a tough guy. You’re a religious man. Is it such a terrible thing for me to send an orphan girl to join her parents?”
James’ nostrils flared. If the wizard had been in front of him, he would have already kicked him through a couple of walls and then snapped his neck.
“Put her on the phone,” James ordered. “I need to make sure she’s still alive. And let me be clear—if I get you your money and you try any shit, there’s nowhere you can run on Earth or Oriceran where I won’t find you. You said you know all about me?”
“Yes, I do,” the man responded, smugness lacing his voice.
“Then you know the Drow Queen thought she could fuck with me, and you know what happened to her.”
The wizard scoffed. “The Oriceran queen being surprised by you is one thing. I’m a fine and knowledgeable Earth native. I know how to hide from angry bounty hunters.”
“Put her the fuck on the phone,” James spat through gritted teeth. Mr. Jolly Wizard had earned himself a free death sooner or later, but saving Calista was the priority.
“I’m sorry,” the girl sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I tried to warn you, but you just kept coming.”
“What happened?” James asked, keeping his tone even. “How did you get mixed up with these guys?”
“I don’t even know why they came to me.” She sniffled. “They just showed up at my apartment last week and said they would give me a hundred thousand dollars to seduce you. I told them to screw off, and I was going to go tell you and the cops. They told me if I breathed a word to anyone, they’d kill me and Father Rojas and Father McCartney. They even threatened to burn down the orphanage. They gave me a time limit. I came by your house all those times, but I just couldn’t bring myself to knock on your door. And then I—"
The sounds of her sobs grew distant as scratching came over the line.
James closed his eyes and sucked in a low, deep breath. His heart galloped in his chest, and his pulse pounded in his ears. It took all his self-control not to crush his phone, and he had no doubts that if he was bonded to Whispy, he would have more than enough power for extended advanced mode. Maybe even Forerunner. He didn’t even realize he was growling for several seconds.
“It really is uncouth for a man of your wealth to sound like an animal,” Mr. Jolly Wizard suggested over the line. “I wish the girl hadn’t explained all that, but you see, it’s really her fault for not taking my generous offer. She could have had all her financial worries go away, along with bragging rights to her friends about screwing you.” He sighed, genuine disappointment in the sound. “Makes more sense to give it up to James Brownstone than some idiot college boy, right?”
“I…. Will. Kill. You,” James slowly replied.
“Sure, sure. I’ll live in terror all my days. In the meantime, twenty-four hours, Mr. Brownstone. Get the money and drop it off at the second closest table from the entrance at Amazing Dwayne’s. When you leave the restaurant, you’ll find the girl in the parking lot waiting for you.” He rattled off the address. “There are several restaurants in LA, so make sure you’re at that specific one. I know you forget nothing, so I won’t insult you by telling you to write it down. You’re familiar with Amazing Dwayne’s, right?”
The blind rage cleared for a moment, and James’ body trembled with anger. Amazing Dwayne’s was a kid’s pizza chain founded by a gnome five years prior. There were dozens all over California, and they had recently expanded into Nevada. They were famous for their singing magical automatons.
This fucker is going to put more kids at risk.
James hadn’t wanted to kill someone this badly in many years. The average idiot he ran into was more an annoyance than truly rage-inducing. That was the main reason he’d been forced to carry Shay treats.
“Do we have a deal, Mr. Brownstone?” Mr. Jolly Wizard asked, mirth leaving his voice for the first time in the conversation. “If not, you can listen to her die right now over the phone. Two million dollars is a real bargain for a man of your means. See, I’m not greedy. I could have asked for ten times as much.”
“We have a deal,” James rumbled.
“Good. No cops. You know how this will end if you get them involved. This is just going to be a private deal between you and me. Not that they would help. Don’t worry, this isn’t personal. This is only about the money.” The call ended.
No cops? Fine. I don’t need cops for what I’m going to do to you.
Chapter Six
James stared out of the front window of his truck. He’d spent far too much time imagining all the different ways he could destroy Mr. Jolly Wizard. Accidental arrogance born of ignorance was at least excusable, but this was a man who had gone after James and an innocent girl with careful planning and foresight. The wizard had no excuses for his actions, and James had no reason to grant him even the tiniest mercy.
It’s like the accident was a sign. Just when I think everything’s going okay, some fucker has to roll up and cause trouble. Can’t blame me for taking the challenge.
It didn’t matter how creative a pu
nishment James devised if he couldn’t find the kidnapper. That meant he would need good assistance in the form of particularly annoying but skilled help. He brought up his contacts and hit the number for Davion.
“Good evening, brah,” the infomancer answered. “How’s it hanging?” Although he was a jolly and cheerful wizard as well, James didn’t want to kill him. At least not on most days. All his rage was targeted at Mr. Jolly Wizard anyway.
“I need your help,” James replied. There was no reason to mess around. Although he had twenty-four hours, that might not be a lot of time to mount a rescue, depending on where the kidnapper was hiding.
“Righteous. You always have the best stuff for me to do, and not just hacking some douchebag bounty’s phone. But I didn’t think you were taking on any bounties for a while. That’s what Maria said, anyway. She also said to leave you alone and not to piss you off until after the baby was born.”
“This isn’t a bounty. Not that I know of, but even if it is, I don’t care.” James clenched his jaw. “This is personal. This is a motherfucker who thinks they can spit in my face and threaten people, and that I’ll just take it.”
“Woah,” Davion replied, wonder in his tone. “This sounds like Harriken-level disrespect, brah. Bust their shit up.”
“Yeah, you could say that, and it’s gonna end the same way.” James grunted. “Maybe not blowing up an entire building, but at least a lot of dead people, since he’ll have backup.”
He took a couple of minutes to explain the situation.
“Damn,” Davion offered once James finished. “That’s even more fucked up than I had guessed. You want me to start tracing the girl’s phone? I can’t wait for you to deliver a Brownstone beat down to that asshole. I need to record it and put it on the net so people know what happens when they mess with you.”
“Don’t bother trying to trace it,” James replied. “This wizard wants physical cash from me, which means he’s careful enough to block the normal shit, and he already knows I have infomancers helping me. I bet that phone’s halfway to another country already, but he’s still worried, which means we can get him. There’s some hole we can exploit.”
Road Trip: BBQ Delivered with Attitude (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 20) Page 5