“It’s not too late, you know,” Alison told him. “You can put the gun down and end all of this before it goes too far.”
The man jammed the gun against her back. She hoped he couldn’t tell there was a thin magical layer between her and the weapon.
“You shut your mouth, bitch. You’re my ticket out of this mess. You shouldn’t have volunteered if you didn’t want to be a hostage.”
Alison almost rolled her eyes.
I was obviously doing it to save the woman, not because I wanted to be a hostage.
“You don’t understand,” Alison explained. “I’m not worried about getting hurt.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
She turned her head. “You getting hurt.”
The man scoffed. “You fucking kidding me?”
“The thing is, I really don’t want to hurt you if I don’t have to.” Alison sighed. “But if you don’t surrender, I’m going to have to. There are still too many people you might hurt.”
The robber laughed and repeated, “You fucking kidding me? Do you understand the situation, you little bitch? You make one wrong move, and I fucking shoot your ass. You get me? You will die.”
“Why did you even try to rob a Starbucks?” Alison frowned. “It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“I don’t need to answer to you, and I’m tired of listening to your mouthy shit.” The man raised his arm and tried to pistol-whip the back of her head. His gun and hand bounced off the shield, and he stumbled back. “What the fuck was that?”
Alison stood there smirking, her hands still on her head. Her shield magic was strong enough now that she’d be able to take a bullet without too much concern, but she didn’t want to risk someone else getting caught in the crossfire. She’d accomplished her primary goal of making sure he didn’t take a hostage who might get hurt, and it was time to end this farce of a robbery.
“Maybe the world’s trying to tell you something,” Alison suggested and turned around, a tight smile on her face. “You might want to listen before you end up regretting this day for a long, long time.”
The robber swung his fist at her face. It bounced off her shield, and he followed up with a kick. He connected and found himself off-balance when his attack didn’t send Alison to the ground. He leaned forward too far and fell to the ground as she stepped back. His gun skidded away.
Alison blasted a pulse of magic into the ground, just enough to highlight the area and the gun. She sent a thin wall of magic toward the gun. The impact shoved the weapon to the other side of the parking lot.
“You’re a fucking Ori,” the man growled. He stood. “I’m gonna tear you up.”
Alison sighed and shook her head. “You know what Staff Sergeant Royce would say?”
“Who the fuck is Staff Sergeant Royce?”
“The man who taught me about Sun Tzu. And that’s what you’re missing.” Alison sprang forward, not bothering to dodge as the robber threw a punch. Her shield would handle it. She threw a quick jab to his throat.
He gasped and fell to one knee.
“Here’s a little move my mom taught me. It works even better with magic.” Alison jumped forward, her knee out and still shielded. The man’s head snapped back, and he dropped to the hard asphalt of the parking lot, groaning.
The girl shook her head and sighed. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Loud sirens signaled the imminent arrival of the police.
Alison knelt by the semiconscious man and patted him on the shoulder. “You just got Brownstoned. I’m sure if you tell the guys you’re gonna meet in jail, they’ll be impressed.”
She stood and hurried into the Starbucks with the help of a few magic pulses; it was harder to judge the layout without other people inside. She grabbed her suitcase and hurried toward the wall leading to the magic train.
Alison let out a sigh of relief as she passed through the wall. The dozens of souls inside and the heavy magic of the train station was a stark contrast to all the fear and anger outside. Other than a few strands of frustration and annoyance, no one in the hidden station seemed to have even noticed there had been a robbery attempt outside.
I wonder if they would have stopped it if I hadn’t gotten involved, or if they even knew.
She reached into her pocket. Her Braille-adapted phone was handy enough outside the School of Necessary Magic, although some of the more recent spell and ward changes had made it fairly useless inside most of the time. She was going to have to rely on calling her dad from outside the school grounds.
Alison entered a quick text to her dad.
At the train station now. There was a minor problem but I cleared it up.
The police officer sighed as he tapped in the arrest notes into his tablet. He looked at his cruiser, where they’d secured the suspect. The man sat in the back in handcuffs, forlornly staring out the window.
Another officer smiled and nodded toward an elderly man. “Thank you for your information, sir.” He headed toward his partner.
A woman stood in front of the first officer. She’d just completed a witness statement he hadn’t even asked for, but the police officer didn’t see a reason to not collect more information. There were still several aspects of the incident that remained unclear.
“Let me get this straight,” he replied. “The guy comes out of the place with some girl with dyed white hair as a hostage—some teenager, you said—and he tries to hurt her, and not only does he not pull it off, but she beats him up? Would you say that summary is accurate?”
The woman nodded and pointed to the Starbucks. “She ran in there.”
“We already checked.” The police officer glanced that way. They’d even checked the bathrooms. “We found two employees in the back, including one who did mention a girl volunteering to be a hostage, but we couldn’t find the girl.”
“I can show you the final moments on my phone if you want.” The woman held up her cell, excitement on her face.
The officer’s partner shook his head. “That’s not necessary, ma’am. Thank you for your assistance.”
The woman offered him a polite nod and headed back toward the sidewalk where the others were standing.
They were going to review the surveillance camera footage in a few minutes. He didn’t want to watch ten random shaky-cam phone videos.
The first officer turned toward his partner and frowned. “What the hell is going on? Where’s the girl?”
His partner laughed. “I watched the old man’s video. Just leave it alone. I recognized her immediately. You would have, too. She was all over the tv last summer.”
“Who’s the mystery girl?”
“Alison Brownstone.”
“That explains it.” The police officer chuckled and pointed to the suspect. “He’s lucky he’s still alive.”
Chapter Thirteen
Maybe this shit is me being a dumbass? Trey thought to himself.
He frowned as he stepped out of his truck. After closing the door, he pulled out his phone to check his bounty app. The afternoon target was supposed to be a quick in-and-out pickup, so he hadn’t bothered to have any of the other rotation guys come with him.
Now that he had his gloves, he’d been doing solo jobs more often. It wasn’t that he thought he was James, even if he had a magic item and a truck like his mentor, but Trey accepted that he was operating at a different level than anyone else in the agency except James and Victoria.
The target, Gino Cantu, was a level two who was wanted for contraband smuggling. The man had connections with some of the local Mafia Families, but from what Trey had heard, he wasn’t a full member. When Cantu had popped up on the app, Trey decided he could handle a straight level two by himself.
A few well-asked questions to informants around town had led the bounty hunter to the pleasant split-level.
Huh. Doesn’t look like the kind of place a piece of shit on the run would live, but maybe that’s part of the plan.
Trey p
ulled on his gloves and smiled. If Cantu was dealing illegal guns as part of his smuggling, the man might be packing some major heat. A hard entry would be the best strategy.
Surprise took care of a lot of the violent low-level bounties right away. When they realized they didn’t have the upper hand, they often surrendered. Trey wasn’t sure if he should go for shock or a more diplomatic approach.
Nah. Let’s do this all direct and shit. Time to deal with Mr. Trey Garfield, motherfucker.
Trey blinked when he looked up at the house. “What the hell?”
What he saw changed everything. A young boy waved at him from a second-story window. Trey waved back, his face twisting into a frown.
I can’t go kicking in a door if there is a kid in there. Fucking Cantu! Why are you on the run with a kid, you son of a bitch? That shit is dangerous.
Trey shook his head. I ain’t down with risking no kid’s life. It ain’t his fault his dad is a piece of shit.
An adult-sized shadow appeared in the window and the child moved back. Someone closed the blinds.
Fuck. And Cantu already knows I’m here. Maybe he won’t be a dumbass about this shit. I’m praying he won’t.
Trey scrubbed a hand over his face. There was nothing worse than a bounty takedown with an innocent bystander. Most of the time, he got lucky. It turned out that pieces of trash hung out with other pieces of trash. Taking down a bounty’s girlfriend who was trying to gut him with a knife while she screamed about how she was going to kill his family didn’t bother him.
But every once in a while, the nightmare scenario presented itself.
Should I call the cops? If I do that, he’ll just run, and the kid will still be in danger. Damn. Let’s be reasonable, then.
Trey took a deep breath and headed toward the porch. He was now regretting not bringing backup. If he’d had others with him, they might be able to handle this situation quickly enough to protect the child. This wasn’t a surprise wizard ambush, but it was almost as bad.
He closed on the front door and knocked. “Please answer, you dumb motherfucker.”
A few seconds later, the door swung open. A dark-haired man stood on the other side—Gino Cantu.
“Who are you?” the bounty asked, looking Trey up and down, his mouth curled in distrust.
Trey gestured toward the door. “Why don’t you just step out on the porch so we can talk? Don’t want the kid to overhear anything he ain’t ready for.”
Or seeing something he ain’t ready for, depending on what you say, Cantu.
Gino nodded slowly, something approaching appreciation in his eyes as he stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind him. “You’re not with the Family. Obviously.”
Trey grinned. “I’ve got my own family. So, here’s the deal. My name is Trey Garfield, and I’m a bounty hunter with the Brownstone Agency. I’m here to apprehend you as a level two bounty. I don’t want trouble or a kid getting hurt, so if you’re willing to come along quietly, we don’t have to have trouble.” He nodded at the door. “He in there alone, or do we need to bring him with us?”
Gino sighed and looked down. “He’s in there with his…nanny. He doesn’t know what kind of man I am, so if we can do this quietlike, I’ll appreciate it.”
“The nanny know the deal?”
“Yeah, but she’s a good woman. She only cares about the kid.” His eyes widened. “Look out!”
Trey turned around in time to see the grenade hurtling toward a front window at the side of the porch. The grenade exploded, launching shrapnel and glass everywhere. By reflex, Trey threw himself over the other man. Glass shards shredded his clothes, but the defensive magic of his gloves left him with only a few cuts and bruises rather than ready for the hospital or immediately needing a healing potion.
Trey hopped to his feet and shook his head. “What the fuck?”
Gino pointed to the street.
A man in a trench coat grinned at them both. “Did I get your attention, Cantu?”
“You could have killed us,” Trey shouted. “You crazy-ass motherfucker. Who the fuck are you?”
The man ignored Trey and focused on the bounty. “Gino Cantu. You’re wanted for smuggling. There’s level two bounty for your apprehension. You’re going to come along with me.” He pulled back his coat to reveal more grenades. “Or you’re going to end up in pieces. I think the choice is easy.”
What the fuck? Another bounty hunter?
“Are you fucking crazy, you dumb motherfucker?” Trey shouted, brushing glass shards off him. “There’s a kid inside, and this ain’t no dead-or-alive bounty. Besides, bitch, I was here first. You don’t go jumping on a brother’s bounty.”
“I don’t care,” the other bounty hunter declared. He rested his hand on another grenade. “Cantu’s a dangerous man, and I’m jamming the local cameras. When the cops show up, I’ll just tell them he got frisky and I had no choice but to get extra rough. Not my fault some crazy criminal went wild and there was collateral damage. Besides, I can still get fifty percent off this one for a dead bounty.”
Trey gritted his teeth. The Vegas police had warned him about this sort of thing, but he hadn’t run into it before. LA had a more robust history and a better relationship between bounty hunters and police, meaning most of the local bounty hunters understood they needed to keep their operations clean. That wasn’t the case in every city, which was one of the reasons the Vegas police were so interested in getting Brownstone and his people heavily involved in the city’s bounties.
Trey stepped off the porch, his eyes narrowed. “Go check on your boy, Gino. I’ll deal with this motherfucker.”
The bounty nodded and rushed inside.
“You don’t step on another man’s bounty,” Trey yelled. “It’d be one thing if you’d beat me here, but I was already on site. You could have killed me, motherfucker, and I don’t like how you’re doing things.”
“Sorry, pal.” The man shrugged. “Shit happens. If you’ve been in this game for more than a few months, you should know that.” He narrowed his eyes. “You seem familiar. Have I seen you before?”
“You don’t want to go to war with the Brownstone Agency.”
The trench-coated bounty hunter snorted. “Oh, is that who you are? I fucking hate you guys. Ever since you’ve come into town, it’s been harder for me to grab people. You’re always there a day ahead of me or at least a few hours.”
“I’m Trey Garfield. I run things here for the agency.” He slammed his gloved fist into his palm. “Now walk your ass up the street before I kick it up the street, bitch.”
“You going to kill me, Brownstone Boy?” The other man snorted. “Killing another bounty hunter isn’t like killing the bounty accidentally. They spend a lot of time watching you. It’s really fucking annoying, and it makes it hard to work. Trust me, I know. Also, never go to Orlando. Totally fucking lame-ass cops who don’t understand what it means to be a bounty hunter.”
Who the fuck is this asshole?
“You just threw a grenade at a house, and you didn’t even know what was up before doing that.” Trey glared at the man. “You’re not a bounty hunter. You’re just some asshole who likes killing people.”
“Hey, nothing wrong with enjoying the fringe benefits of your job. You think I’m afraid of you because you run around with Brownstone?” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden ring. “I heard all about how you got your ass beat down by the Silver Ghost, Garfield.” He slipped on the ring, and a golden glow surrounded him. “I didn’t want to waste this on some punk like Cantu, but it’ll be more than enough to kick your ass back to LA where you belong. Name’s Jared, by the way. You heard of me?”
Trey snorted. “No. I don’t spend a lot of time asking people about weak-ass psycho pieces of shit. It upsets my stomach.”
Jared advanced slowly, his fists up. “You know why I used the ring? Because I heard you've got some magic of your own, and I noticed you didn’t pull a gun. That means you’ve got a r
eason to think you can beat me, even with all my grenades.”
“So, let me lay this shit out of for you, motherfucker.” Trey raised his fists. “I’m gonna knock your punk-ass out, then I’m gonna call the cops and have them come and pick up both you and Gino Cantu. I’m gonna explain to the cops how you tossed a grenade and could have killed my ass, and I’m pretty sure the Vegas police aren’t gonna be happy with your grenade-tossing motherfucking self.”
“Stop your bitching, Garfield.” Jared slipped his coat off and let it fall to the ground, revealing a knife and holster underneath. “It’s not like you’ve never killed anybody. Stop acting like a scared virgin on prom night.”
“Even the big man don’t just blow open a building without having a fucking clue who’s inside.” Trey closed on Jared, and the two men began circling each other. “And he’d give a shit if a kid was around.”
“Then Brownstone’s wasting all that strength.” Jared rushed forward and threw a punch.
Trey blocked it and launched a wide hook of his own. The blow landed, and the other bounty hunter stumbled back a few feet and shook his head.
“Ouch.” Jared wiped the blood off his mouth. “You hit hard. If I didn’t have this ring on, you would have probably knocked my ass out. Good for you, Garfield. That’s the only hit you’re going to get in today.”
“Keep talking, Jared.”
Trey charged and sent a flurry of punches at the other man. Jared blocked most of them, grunting at a body blow. He retaliated with a quick kick.
Trey stumbled back, pain radiating from his chest. He was sore from the window explosion, but nowhere near enough to distract him. The adrenalin from his anger was more than enough to keep him focused. He didn’t regret not using the healing portion, it would have been a waste.
Jared bounced on his feet, grinning and gesturing for Trey to attack. “You’re going to regret ever coming to Vegas and messing with my turf. At first, I just thought you were some criminal piece-of-shit friend of Cantu, which is why I didn’t care when I threw the grenade. Now that I know who you are, I want to take you down even worse.”
Shadow Of The Ring: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 16) Page 11