One Epic Ring: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 14)

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One Epic Ring: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 14) Page 5

by Michael Anderle


  Shay pursed her lips. “Maybe, but even James can bleed, so I need to watch his back.”

  Peyton turned his chair back toward his computer. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “No, it was a good thing.” Shay sighed. “James isn’t a normal man. I have to keep that in mind because it means he doesn’t have normal problems. Well, some normal problems, but a lot of fucking abnormal ones.”

  Peyton shook his head. “You’re getting obsessive, just like him. It’s because you’ve been sitting around too much. You haven’t done a raid since early January when you and Lily hit that site in Sri Lanka.”

  Shay shrugged. “So?”

  “It’s almost March, Shay.” Peyton tapped on his keyboard. “It’s getting longer between raids.”

  “I don’t need as much money. I’m richer than most CEOs.” Shay grinned.

  “You aren’t meant to be that relaxed. You aren’t wired that way.” Peyton continued typing. “And if you don’t keep your skills fresh, you’ll regret it when the time comes that you need them. I think this would be a good time for you to stop obsessing over the alien and focus on something else for a few days or weeks.”

  Shay shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt to do a job, but I don’t want to waste time fetching some magical Viagra or shit like that. If you want to distract me, then I need a serious job, preferably somewhere I haven’t done a job yet.”

  “Why?”

  “Might as well experience something new, and it cuts down on the chance I’ll run into someone or something I’ve annoyed before.” Shay snorted.

  Peyton saluted her. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you something special. Something that has absolutely nothing to do with aliens and is somewhere new.”

  Chapter Five

  James pushed into the Leanan Sídhe, looked around, and made his way through the thick crowd of happy patrons chatting and downing their drinks. Their voices formed a pleasant din, relaxing and familiar despite the loudness.

  The people looking his way parted for him, smiles on their faces. It’d been a while since someone bothered him about participating in another Bard of Filth competition, but the desire burned in their eyes. He could see it every time he came to the pub.

  Don’t get your hopes up. That shit is never happening again. I’m just here for a little help on a fucking epic ring.

  The Professor sat in the back, an amused look on his face and a mug of beer in hand. Only the faintest red touched his face, suggesting that Father O’Banion hadn’t come out to play yet.

  The tension fled James’ body. He didn’t want to discuss proposals and rings with the Professor’s other self. Some things weren’t a joke.

  James closed on the old man’s table and sat across from him. “Hey, Professor.”

  “Good evening, lad.” The Professor took a sip. “I didn’t realize you were coming tonight. You could have texted me. You’re lucky I’m here.”

  “Lucky? You practically live here.” James shrugged. “And I didn’t text you for a reason. I was trying to do everything I could not to leave a trail.”

  “Really, now?” The Professor let out a quiet chuckle. “James Brownstone being all mysterious. I’m intrigued. That is so not like you.”

  James looked over his shoulder as if he expected Shay to be crouched by the bar watching him with AR goggles or using a microdrone right overhead. “I need help getting an artifact. I need someone who can get their hands on one, but who I can trust to keep their mouth shut. You understand?”

  The Professor nodded. “Those are qualities I’d attribute to myself.” He leaned back, a faint grin on his face. “Why come to me, lad? Are you worried that if you and the lovely Miz Carson go off on another adventure something unpleasant will happen? Even if it did, I’m sure you could handle it.”

  “No, it’s not like that.” James frowned. “I’m looking for a ring for Shay, something fucking epic.”

  “A ring, hmm? Why a ring?” The Professor scratched his cheek, his grin widening. “Ah, I see, lad. Even though I’ve mentioned it offhand before, I’ve often wondered when this day would come. You’ve changed a lot since you’ve met her. I can’t say it’s a surprise.”

  James nodded. “I want it to be a surprise for her. She kind of already knows because I kind of already tried to ask, and it…” He grunted.

  “Not romantic enough, lad?” The Professor sipped his beer. “I can send you to talk to Anna Forsythe again. She knows a little about romance.”

  “I don’t need that Celtic succubus’s help.” James grunted. “And it wasn’t about romance anyway. It wasn’t epic enough, or it wouldn’t have been. She stopped me before I could even ask.” He nodded. “I get that a ring is the first step, but fuck diamond rings. Fuck any fancy ring. Shay needs something useful. She’s been looking for shield rings and shit, but the ones she’s been using keep crapping out on her. I want to get her some kick-ass armor or a shield ring as an engagement ring, or two as an engagement and wedding ring pair. That would be fucking epic.”

  The Professor set his mug down and nodded as a serious look ate his grin. “I’m surprised, lad. Truly surprised. And it takes a lot to surprise me.”

  “What?” James eyed him.

  The older man shrugged. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this. What you just said is a damned good idea, and it shows you understand the woman well. I agree that Miz Carson will appreciate something like that a lot more than simple jewelry, no matter how beautiful.” He sat back and frowned. “That said, do you think she has any aesthetic preferences?”

  James shrugged. “It shouldn’t be ugly, although in general, Shay doesn’t like flashy shit except for that damned car of hers.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement, but it’s not exactly as if there’s a magic ring shop out there I can order from, not even on Oriceran.” The Professor lifted his mug. “But I will endeavor to find something not horribly gaudy that is also functional for what you described.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  After another sip, the Professor stared at James. “I’m acting as if it’s not a surprise that you’re about to settle down, but if you’d asked me even a year ago if I foresaw such a thing, I would have laughed in your face even if I were stone-cold sober. Now here you are, shopping for a ring like any regular man. A magic ring, yes, but still a ring. You even have a daughter already. You’re still the Granite Ghost, but you’re turning into a genuine family man. It boggles the mind and challenges my perception of reality.” He nodded sagely and took another sip.

  James shrugged. “Shit happened, and shit changed.”

  The Professor burst out laughing. “Spoken like a true romantic.”

  James chuckled. “Besides, I’m not really settling down, at least not yet. Still have bounties to worry about. Shay might be slowing down on tomb raiding, but it’s not like she’s planning on quitting anytime soon. So, the way I see it, this isn’t settling down, it’s just both of us getting permanent kickass reinforcements.”

  The Professor lifted his mug and drained the last few ounces. He set it down. “May the Brownstone Army grow forever more!”

  James was halfway back to his house when his phone rang with a call from Sergeant Mack. He answered it on speakerphone. He had to admit his new phone was faster and easier to navigate.

  “What’s up, Mack?” he answered. “I thought you wanted to push back the next PFW meeting until March while we figured out the ratios on some of those sauces?”

  Mack sighed. “Yeah, I wish this were about barbeque, but it’s not so easy. This is about police business and a bounty.”

  James grunted. “That’s not a big deal. I was still a bounty hunter last time I checked. What’s wrong? You get word of a level five coming in soon? I’ve been kind of bored. I’d be happy to welcome them to LA.”

  “Nothing like that.” Mack chuckled. “It’s a level two, actually.”

  “A level two?” James checked his mirror and changed lanes. “You should just
call the agency and have them handle it. I’m not that bored.”

  “Yeah, I get that this kind of thing isn’t worth it for you personally, normally,” Mack replied. “But this is a special case, and I want to make sure this particular guy gets brought in, even if it is a little like using a sledgehammer to kill a fly.”

  The F-350 switched lanes as James guided his truck toward a highway onramp.

  “What’s so important about some level two?” James rumbled. “Even if he’s a mob witness or shit like that, Maria, Trey, and the guys can handle it. I’ve got other stuff to focus on right now.”

  Mack let out another sigh. “I’m not disrespecting your people, James. I’ve seen the kind of bounty hunter Trey’s become, but this guy has information law enforcement needs. You see, he’s got information, but not on the Mafia or some gang or any normal criminal group. It’s far different. He used to work for the Eyes.

  James grunted. “Fuck that guy.”

  “Exactly. LAPD, the FBI, and the PDA all want to nail him, but we haven’t been able to get in the neighborhood of a warrant because all possible witnesses keep ending up dead, brain-wiped, or worse.”

  James grunted. “Worse?”

  “Six months ago, the FBI got word that someone who worked for the Eyes wanted to roll on his operation. The FBI and the police show up at this house, and the guy’s clawed his own eyes out. He’s ranting and raving about all the shadow demons tearing through his body.” Mack sucked in a breath. “I wanted to spend the next three days in church after reading that report.”

  “The Eyes summoned demons?” James frowned.

  “No. I don’t know if that would have been better or worse. From what I’ve read, there were no monsters there, James, just some residual magic on his brain. They got rid of the magic, but the damage was done. The guy’s now a vegetable in a mental hospital, and the few times he is lucid, he still sees the demons. God save that poor man’s soul.”

  “I haven’t dealt with the Eyes myself.” James grunted. “Everything I’ve heard from him has been passed to me indirectly through other informants or information brokers. Sounds like a real piece of shit.”

  Mack cleared his throat. “That crap I just described, that’s when he’s trying to hurt people, but even normally he’s feeding off their minds or something at that stupid dust den he runs. It makes being a junkie look wholesome in comparison. Whatever the hell he is, he’s smart enough to have just enough pull here and there, including corrupt politicians and dirty cops, to keep the full force of the law off him. Can’t get a bounty since he hadn’t been associated with an indictable crime. Our only chance of taking him down is defectors from his organization, and this level two, Julius Carver, is the first one we’ve come across who managed to make it out of LA before the Eyes blenderized his brain with magic. Julius was in charge of a lot of the Eyes’ dark web presence. He has to have dirt on the asshole.”

  James frowned. “I don’t get it. Why didn’t the police just offer to protect him? Are you worried about dirty cops killing him?”

  “No, not worried about that. We have good solid cops ready to protect him until he can be transferred to FBI and PDA custody. We tried to reach out to Julius, but he blew us off. He doesn’t believe the police can protect him, but if you get involved, it doesn’t matter. You bring him in, and we’ll make sure the Eyes goes down. You and your agency are doing a lot to clean up this town. This is just an extension of that.”

  James took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “If it weren’t for you asking I’d say no, but okay, fine. I need to have the back of my PFW co-captain. I’ll bring Carver in. If he’s out of LA, from what you said before, you got any idea where he is now? My people and I can start tracking him down, but we need somewhere to start.”

  “Last information we got suggests he’s in Mexico. The thing is, if we’ve heard that, the Eyes might have heard it as well, so you’re racing him on this, James.”

  James snorted. “I’ll track him down and help you solve your little Eyes problem.”

  “Thanks, James,” Mack replied, his voice thick with gratitude. “Talk to you soon.”

  The call ended.

  Too bad the Eyes doesn’t have a bounty. It might have been fun to see how his rep stacks up against mine.

  Shay eyed James from the dining room table. “Mexico?”

  James nodded, having finished explaining the situation to her.

  “He’s just a level two, so it’ll be pretty easy.” He shrugged. “You can come along if you want. This won’t be like Alberta. No snow and shit unless we head into the mountains.”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Eh, sounds kind of boring. You don’t need me to watch your back on a level two. You go do your favor for Mack. Peyton’s looking for a job for me anyway, so I might go and do that while you’re hunting this guy down. It sounds like it might be annoying and take you a while.

  “Maybe, but Mack needs my help.” James shrugged. “Okay.” He frowned. “Shit, you’re right. I don’t even know where he is in Mexico. I better get Heather on finding this guy right away.”

  Chapter Six

  Peyton hummed to himself as he looked through a tomb raider message board for possible clients. His bots were patrolling several other boards and forums, but his current choice, nestled deep in the dark web, presented the best opportunity to find something special for Shay.

  It’ll be good for all of us to stop thinking about aliens for a few weeks. Heather and I have our general defenses locked down in cyberspace, and if the alien chick is trying to hide her attacks as local monsters, she probably won’t come at Brownstone while he’s in the middle of a major city that has tons of other powerful bounty hunters, AET, local PDA offices, and that kind of stuff.

  As far as Peyton could tell, Team Carson and Brownstone had the upper hand in the situation.

  He stopped typing to read a job description.

  Seeking experienced tomb raider for Cambodian magical artifact recovery job. Extreme danger. Encounters with local magical creatures assured, but no encounters with intelligent beings likely. This is a time-sensitive job. Please inquire immediately if interested.

  Encrypted contact information followed.

  Peyton chuckled. The description was more straight-forward than he was used to seeing in the dark web, almost coming off more as a regular job offer versus the cryptic rabbit hole of messages he normally had to follow before getting any sort of concrete details about a job.

  Osiris meowed from the back of his desk. He was curled up next to the computer, enjoying the exhaust heat. The cat probably thought it was meant to keep him warm.

  “I’m guessing this is someone new at the tomb raider hiring game, Osiris,” Peyton explained to his pet. “Or someone who is damned confident.”

  That was the nice thing about having an animal around. When you talked to yourself, you didn’t seem as crazy.

  “Some rich dude,” Peyton continued and nodded. “He’s read about something somewhere and wants it, but is smart enough to know that going after it will get him killed. He’s going to throw out money to tomb raiders but doesn’t care enough to keep himself as low profile as he should.”

  He leaned back and smiled. This kind of client smelled of desperation, which meant a bigger payday. Nothing wrong with squeezing a premium out of a wealthy asshole.

  Huh. I guess technically I grew up a wealthy asshole.

  Peyton sent an encrypted message using the contact information.

  “I bet this will turn out to be an easy job and Shay will make tons of money while exploring a country she hasn’t done a raid in before.” He smiled, already satisfied with his anticipated success.

  Peyton brought up the forum again to keep looking for possibilities. He blinked less than a minute later when a response to his message popped up.

  “Huh. Didn’t expect them to write back so soon. So, what do we have here?”

  Peyton clicked on the message to bring it up. He first took a minute
to read through various headers and key information to ensure it was genuine before moving on to the message body. Sucker newbies let themselves get distracted by the text before verifying everything else. He’d learned that lesson the hard way years prior.

  Sorry. The job is no longer available. Thank you for your interest.

  He burst out laughing. “You snooze, you lose, I guess. Damn. Time to find something else special, then. Damn. I wanted to drain your bank account, random rich guy.”

  James tugged on the knotted rope as Thomas barked and bit down on the other end. The dog yanked hard against his master’s playful grip.

  “You want this, boy?” James rumbled. “Gonna have to pull harder than that. Show me you want it.”

  His phone buzzed in his pocket and he retrieved it, keeping one hand on the rope.

  James glanced down at the phone before bringing it to his ear and cradling it with his neck. “What’s up, Heather? Any luck?”

  “I’ve been trying to track down your bounty. Been hitting a lot of his financial records and accounts, directly and indirectly.” Heather chuckled. “I have to say, the guy’s pretty good. Better than I expected. Good for him.”

  “Meaning what?” James allowed more slack in the rope. Thomas’ tail wagged hard and thumped against the floor after he backed up and tightened the rope again.

  “Meaning that your guy has set up a very clever trail to convince people that he’s in Mexico.” Heather blew out a breath. “But he isn’t in Mexico, I guarantee you that.”

 

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