Shadow Of The Ring: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 16)

by Michael Anderle

  James nodded once.

  She scoffed. “There’s a reason that level fours and fives avoid this city, and that reason is James Brownstone. Today we’re going to send a message to every piece-of-shit high-level threat in this country that it’s not just James Brownstone they have to be afraid of, but every single bounty hunter in his agency.

  “Now, let’s go take down a level five.”

  The bounty hunters roared their approval.

  Shay grinned. “I’m starting to let myself get excited.”

  Multiple AET drones flew overhead, focused on the exterior of the two-story office building. A small AET strike team was on standby in a helicopter in case Lassom ran. The other AET forces were deployed along the back of the office building to seal the exits. James and his team stomped toward the front door as soon as the police were in position.

  The intimidating black-suited army of the Brownstone Agency marched in lockstep, their stun rifles in hand and their faces set in grim determination.

  In truth, James wasn’t going to make much money on the bounty. Spreading it around to almost the entire agency meant the relative value for each individual was low, and he was kicking in for bonuses out of his pocket on top of that, but he couldn’t stand by while someone like Lyle Lassom was fucking with his city.

  Most criminals were parasites, and good parasites knew not to kill the host. Lassom wasn’t a parasite. He was a cancer who would spread unless he was excised right now.

  Moderate adaptation potential, Whispy Doom estimated

  James had bonded the symbiont before arrival. The more James thought about what Lyle had done—stripping away people’s free will and making them do horrible things—the more pissed he got. Even Satan gave people a choice. The little prick needed to pay, but still, the boiling rage that only came with direct threats to his family didn’t wash through James.

  Is there enough power for advanced transformation? James asked.

  Limited alternative power available for advanced transformation, Whispy responded. Sustained operation may not be possible.

  So there it was. There wasn’t enough background magic in a normal Earth city to freely borrow power for his most powerful mode, but it was still good to know he could call it on command for a short period if needed.

  For the moment, though, he was relying on his amulet’s basic hardening, interface, and regeneration capabilities. Lassom might not be tough, but if he had deadly wizards with him, things might get challenging.

  Shay frowned and held up the clear crystal hanging around her neck. “This should be interesting.” Her wearing of the anti-magic deflectors precluded the use of her defensive artifacts, but she had them on in case she needed to ditch the deflector. “I’ve never liked these things. I prefer to go on offense with my own shit.”

  “I know how you feel.” James ran his fingers over his own deflector. He’d never before used one in his entire career, always trusting in his amulet, but this was one time he couldn’t be sure Whispy would offer enough protection. It wasn’t a matter of armor or hardening his skin, but his mind and soul.

  The deflector wouldn’t interfere with Whispy, given that he wasn’t a magic artifact, but it felt strange.

  “This Lassom fucker is going down,” James growled. He tromped toward the reception area where dozens of men and women held guns and waited, their eyes glassy. “Not a big surprise, but he saw us coming,” he shouted. “Let me get their attention, and then you all follow up when I make a few opportunities.”

  “Ready up!” Maria shouted.

  The bounty hunters disengaged the safeties on their stun rifles. Several glanced down at the sonic grenades clipped to their tactical vests.

  Hiding behind people makes you a pussy, Lassom. You made a big mistake by coming to Los Angeles.

  James marched toward the front door with a deep scowl on his face. None of the people inside fired at him. He stopped before opening the door and stared at a man in a Vegas Raiders t-Shirt standing right behind one of the windows forming the outer walls of the office. The mind-controlled Raiders fan held a shotgun.

  Given their faces, everyone inside was a victim of Lyle Lassom.

  Yes, you can use force to solve every problem. You just have to know where to apply it.

  “Let’s do this shit,” James shouted. He charged toward the window, screaming a war cry at the top of his lungs.

  None of the people inside moved or reacted until James crashed through the window. Shattered glass shot everywhere and the people inside opened fire, the simultaneous volley deafening. A swarm of bullets pelted him, stinging and bouncing to the ground, where they formed a pile around him.

  Near maximum adaptation previously achieved against attack type, Whispy reported, his excitement waning.

  James tossed four sonic grenades in rapid succession. People groaned and collapsed following the characteristic whine. It didn’t matter if they were mind-controlled, their bodies still functioned normally.

  The bounty hunter grabbed the shotgun from the Raiders fan and rushed over to the other windows. He swung it like a club, smashing the window before rushing to the next to do the same. Soon, glass coated the ground, and the Brownstone Army had a clear line of fire for the stun rifles. As useful as the weapons were, the energy would dissipate when striking glass.

  Additional glassy-eyed people with guns ran down the hallway to open fire on James.

  The bounty hunters rushed forward, opening fire, a near-blue wall of energy surging on either side of James and downing the other men and women in the lobby. The mind-controlled security turned toward Brownstone’s people, but it was too late; person after person fell. It took less than a minute to stun every single person in the lobby, as well as the arriving reinforcements.

  The Brownstone Army rushed inside, and half kept their weapons at the ready while the other half began securing prisoners. The lobby area was clear of threats.

  Adaptation potential minimal, Whispy complained.

  Shay hurried over to James. “That’s awful that he did that to those innocent people.”

  “That shit was just to slow people down.” James shook his head. “No wizards or witches in that crowd. Nothing magical or Oriceran.”

  The elevator dinged, and everyone glanced that way. The doors opened to reveal an empty elevator.

  “What’s that about?” Shay asked.

  The elevator doors closed.

  James frowned. A few seconds later, two elves winked into existence on the opposite side of the elevator doors. One elf threw a white energy bolt at a nearby bounty hunter without an anti-magic deflector.

  Lachlan threw himself in front of the attack, stumbling back, his anti-magic deflector darkening. Several people fired their rifles at the elves. Their shields flashed when each bolt struck, neither fell.

  The second elf raised his hands and started chanting. A wave of wind shot through the lobby, knocking several bounty hunters over.

  “The fucking deflectors can’t do shit about actual forces,” Shay muttered. She yanked out two of her gnome-crafted knives. “These should get through normal shields.”

  James shook his head. “We can’t kill them. They might be mind-controlled.”

  “Can I mention how boring that is? Let me test a theory, then—something Maria mentioned to me once about a takedown when you weren’t around.” Shay sheathed the knives and threw a sonic grenade. Both elves crumpled to the ground, clutching their ears.

  The sustained blasts from dozens of stun rifles finally made it through their shields, and the elves twitched and writhed as the high-powered bolts pelted them. Their eyes rolled up, and they started drooling.

  Maria waved from the corner to James. “We’ve got this under control. You keep going.”

  James nodded to Shay, and they ran to the stairwell. Taking an elevator in an enemy-controlled building was never smart. He flung open the door, and they bounded up the stairs. The door at the second-floor landing already stood open, which was
not a good sign.

  A wide hallway was on the other side, but there was no one there. James stepped inside. The path finally turned again, leading to the senior partner’s office.

  According to what Weber had passed on to Maria, thermal scans indicated that someone was in the office. Everyone agreed that the kind of man who mind-controlled innocent people would pick the most important office in his building. They weren’t attacking directly from the opposite side because they couldn’t be sure it was in fact Lassom.

  “Aircraft carrier,” Shay announced.

  “Huh?” James looked over her way, ignoring Whispy as the amulet again complained about adaptation potential and primary directives.

  “We’ve never fought anyone on an aircraft carrier. I was just thinking how we’ve cleared out office buildings, museums, tombs, haunted forests, and all sorts of other places, but never an aircraft carrier.” Shay shrugged. “Would be fun.”

  James grunted. “We’re not military. We’ve got no reason to fight people on aircraft carriers.”

  Two Kilomeas stepped into the main hallway from the junction and glared at James.

  Shay went for her gun, but James threw up his hand.

  “Poor mind-controlled bastards,” he muttered.

  “Nah,” one of the Kilomeas replied, “we’re mercenaries. We like getting paid, and this Lassom guy is paying a lot.”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “What about now?”

  One of the Kilomeas pulled back his jacket to remove a huge gun. “You go for your gun, we go for our guns. It’s just like in—what do they call it?—the Ancient West.”

  “The Old West,” James corrected.

  “Whatever. I don’t really give a shit, but we could do this a different way.” The Kilomea pulled a set of glowing brass knuckles out of his pocket, and the other did the same.

  Shay frowned. “What’s all this about?”

  “If you want to shoot, we can do that, but I want to see the great Brownstone in action,” the Kilomea taunted. “They say you can punch a bastard through a door. I feel like I’ve been wasting these magical knuckledusters on worthless garbage, but maybe you can provide a challenge.”

  Moderate adaptation potential, Whispy observed.

  James stepped forward and cracked his knuckles. “Let me handle these assholes.”

  Shay sighed. “This is like Grandfather all over again.”

  “Maybe. But I’m done talking sooner this time.” James charged the Kilomea.

  The two huge Oricerans waited, smug smirks on their faces. The first Kilomea threw a wide punch. He landed a solid blow, but James’ head barely moved. The bounty hunter’s shoulder crashed into the Kilomea’s chest, and he flew backward and crashed onto the floor with a loud crack.

  James wasn’t sure if the noise was from the floor or the mercenary.

  The bounty hunter blocked the second Kilomea’s punch and knocked him out with a solid uppercut that launched the huge Oriceran into the ceiling, where he left a dent before falling to the floor.

  Near maximum adaptation previously achieved, Whispy explained.

  Magic I’ve already run into plus just some straight-up punching, huh? Well, it was worth a shot.

  The first Kilomea winced and scrambled to his feet. James marched over to him and jumped into the air to slug him hard at face level. The mercenary’s head snapped back, and his eyes rolled up in the back of his head before he collapsed unconscious on his back.

  James glanced down at his anti-magic deflector. It was slightly cloudy.

  Oh, it was canceling their magic, too. Poor stupid assholes. You didn’t even have the tiniest chance.

  Shay shook her head. “I think Lyle is depending too much on numbers to win. A man doesn’t become a general just because you give him an army.”

  James pointed down the hallway where the senior partner’s office waited. “He was hoping to hide. The cops didn’t know where he was.”

  “Good point. How did Tyler know?”

  James shrugged and walked over to Shay. “Who the fuck cares? I don’t think I want to know how that guy finds out half the shit he does.”

  Shay snickered. “Let’s go finish thi—”

  A bronze sword smashed through the wall and Shay rolled to her side, narrowly dodging the blow. Another sword crashed through and struck James.

  What the fuck?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The blade didn’t pierce James’ defenses, but it did send him crashing hard into the wall across the hallway, leaving a huge crack.

  The bounty hunter let out a low growl and looked up.

  Two bronze statues resembling ancient Chinese soldiers ripped through the office walls and came into the hallway, their movements jerky and slow.

  Shay scrambled backward and dropped her stun rifle on the ground. She pulled out her gun and opened fire, but the bullets did little more than scuff the solid metal.

  “Well, shit,” she muttered.

  A witch held a glowing wand in the office on the other side of the new holes. James recognized her as May Wu. He’d checked into some of the other bounty hunters who’d gone after the Council before him.

  James smashed a fist into one of the statues and managed to knock the heavy metal construct to the ground, but it pushed itself up immediately.

  The other statue swung its sword at Shay, and she leapt out of its reach. “How the hell do we win against statues? Melt them?”

  “No. We take out their controller.” James dropkicked the statue closest to him and sent it sailing into the other. They clanged together and fell to the ground, splintering some of the wood.

  Shit, I better be careful. If these things fall through, they might kill someone. Got to figure out the situation first.

  James turned back toward May. “You’re a merc now too? Last I heard, you were still a bounty hunter.”

  May looked at James, her eyes glassy. “I must defend him,” she replied, her voice a monotone. “Mr. Lassom told me to defend him. He ordered it.”

  The two statues disentangled from one another and rushed toward James, their heavy footfalls cracking the wood beneath them.

  One of the statues swung its sword. James blocked it with his arm, a loud clang echoing down the hallway. The other stabbed at him. He grunted as its powerful blow struck, but the attack left only a tiny cut. A follow-up attack severed the chain holding his anti-magic deflector. It fell to the ground and one of the statues stomped on it, shattering it into dozens of small, sharp pieces.

  James roared and grabbed the necks of both statues. He shoved them into the wall. “Stun the witch, Shay. She’s under mind control.” He struggled to keep the statues in place as they clubbed him with the backs of their swords and landed hard blows with their free hands.

  Shay scrambled for her dropped stun rifle, snatched it off the ground, and fired three quick stun bolts at May. The witch crumpled to the rug of the office, her wand rolling out of her hand and a quiet groan escaping her mouth.

  The two statues struggled with James for a few more seconds before they froze and fell on their sides.

  James pointed at May. “Get her downstairs. I’m gonna go end this shit.”

  “Be careful.” Shay nodded and rushed over to the fallen witch. She draped the woman’s arm over her shoulder and carried her toward the elevator.

  James took a few deep breaths and headed down the hall to the large office at the end. He didn’t run toward the door, but when he arrived, he kicked it off its hinges. It landed on the ground with an echoing thud.

  Lyle stood in front of the huge desk dominating the room, his hand on his chest. “You know something? Ever since I came to LA, I've been asking myself what would happen if James Brownstone came after me. I worked through all sorts of scenarios in my mind. Kind of worked myself up over it.”

  “And what did you come up with?” James rumbled.

  “That it’s stupid to be scared of you when you’re as awesome as I am.” Lyle smiled. “You’re really scar
y and people shouldn’t fuck with you, but you’re known for being tough, not for anything else. You can’t win against me, so what reason is there to be scared?” He shrugged.

  Adaptation potential high, Whispy reported.

  James cracked his knuckles. Imminent ass-kicking potential high.

  He eyed the unassuming man and shook his head. “You’re a complete piece of shit, Lassom. Some of the lowlifes I’ve taken down are saints compared to you.”

  “No, I’m a god who is still reaching his maximum potential.” Lyle licked his lips. “And you’re an arrogant idiot, Brownstone. You had one chance at defense, and you aren’t wearing it.” He pointed at James’ chest.

  What? Is this about Whispy?

  James looked down and grunted. He’d forgotten about the destroyed anti-magic deflector.

  “You’re going to go downstairs and kill everyone you see,” Lyle said cheerfully. “After you finish them off, you’ll go outside and kill every cop you see.”

  The words repeated in James’ mind over and over and he turned slowly away from Lyle, his eyes going glassy.

  Kill everyone you see. Kill every cop you see.

  Kill, kill, kill.

  James growled as rage flowed through him. The armor shot from his amulet, covering his body, and a helmet settled over his head. His blade didn’t extend, but the claws on both hands did.

  Kill, kill, kill. Kill everyone you see. Kill, kill, kill.

  “Destroy them all, Brownstone!” Lyle shouted, laughing. “Show them the power of James Brownstone.”

  James halted. A long, low snarl followed.

  Kill, kill, kill.

  Initiating thought filter.

  The voice telling him to kill faded to a buzz in the background. James turned around, growling.

  Lyle blinked. “Wait.” He held up a hand, resting his other on his chest. “Stop.” His eyes widened. “Oh, I get it. It’s like an anti-magic deflector. I just have to get through its limit.”