The gnome grinned, but James roared and charged. The small Oriceran’s grin vanished and he squeezed off another shot, this time striking James’ chest and scorching it but not penetrating.
The bounty hunter gripped the sword with his good arm and thrust it into the gnome’s head, the tip sinking deep inside. The musket fell to the ground, flashed, and turned into a pile of gray dust.
James pulled out the sword and let out another low growl, his irritation growing with the throbbing pain in his shoulder. He’d grant that the gnome had managed to be more impressive than the other men he’d encountered in the place, but he was still just as dead.
Waves of satisfaction flowed from Whispy over exposure to the new type of attack.
“Where are you, Eyes?” James shouted. “I thought you’re supposed to be this super-boogieman badass, but you’re hiding behind a bunch of pussy guards? I owe you for my fucking truck. Show me what you’ve got. Try to give me fucking nightmares, asshole.”
He looked around the room, but there was nothing in it but shadows, bloodstains, and the dead gnome. Hurried footsteps sounded behind him and he turned around, ready to stab a few more assholes.
A slight grunt of disappointment escaped his lips when he spotted Shay running up the corridor rather than more guards.
James slipped the blade into its scabbard and pulled a healing potion out of his pocket. He downed the contents. Amulet regeneration might be in progress, but it was too damned slow for his current wound. He still needed to kill the Eyes, wherever the bastard was hiding. By the time Shay got to the room, his wounds were gone.
Shay shrugged. “Not a huge number of guys the other way. Nothing left but junkies and none of them noticed shit. I found a door to the main warehouse floor but didn’t see anyone in there. Looked like old tools, mostly.” She shrugged. “Think our boy was banking too much on magic to protect his ass.”
“He isn’t here.” James gritted his teeth. “Shit. Is he not here during the day? Did the fucker run? Portal out already?”
“Maybe. Those Council assholes were tough, but they understood when to run and when to stand and fight.” Shay furrowed her brow. “I didn’t actually go into the warehouse. Maybe there are more rooms behind it, but this place didn’t look that big from the outside,”
James scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck. Maybe I can get Zoe or Victoria to do some sort of tracking spell.”
“Don’t think you need to go that far just yet.” Shay looked around, scratching her cheek. “This room is dark, and there’s nothing in it but the gnome. There has to be a reason.” She knelt with a frown.
“Maybe the Eyes can’t handle light.” James shrugged.
She shook her head. “Doubt that. Makes no sense for him to come to Southern California in that case.”
He pointed to the dried bloodstains on the floor. “Or maybe this is where they kill people.”
Shay tilted her head and stared at the floor. “Huh. I see.”
“What?”
She gestured to the floor. “It’s subtle, but can you see it?”
James leaned over to peer at the location. “Just looks like a dusty floor with some blood on it to me. What about it?”
Shay trailed her finger over the floor, following a square pattern. “The dust isn’t as settled here. Even without my AR goggles, all those tombs raids make me see simple rooms differently than a bounty hunter. Thousands of years ago or nowadays, people like the classics.”
She tapped the floor, which sounded hollow.
A triumphant smile spread across her face. “And there we go.”
James frowned. “Fucker’s hiding in the basement?”
“That would be my guess, or it’s an escape tunnel, but the fact that it’s here means the asshole can’t just portal out.” Shay stood and shrugged. “I don’t know an easy way to get in there, though. Can you go into advanced mode and cut the floor open?”
Insufficient power for advanced transformation.
James shrugged. “Not pissed enough.”
Shay laughed. “That’s a funny thing to hear coming from a guy who just killed a bunch of people over his truck.”
“There’s being annoyed, and there’s being pissed.” James kicked at the tile. “And there are only some things important enough to get pissed about.” He gave her a knowing look.
Shay blinked a few times and nodded.
“Hiding’s not gonna help that fucker, though,” James muttered. He glanced out the door into the hall. “You said there were tools in the warehouse?”
“Saw a few, all old, mostly rusty. Why?”
James glared down at the floor. “Let’s see if they have a sledgehammer.”
Chapter Twenty
They returned a few minutes later, James hauling a sledgehammer with a smile on his face. Shay was now in control of the tachi.
“Keep in mind that if it’s a tunnel, he might have already escaped,” Shay suggested. “Don’t want you to be disappointed. Just because he’s a creepy asshole doesn’t mean he’s a total dumbass. We both killed a lot of guys, and he’s obviously worried about you and was plotting something. I don’t know what’s up with Kathy exactly, but I’m guessing he forced her to bring that artifact to your house, wherever the hell it is.”
“But why would she make it obvious what was going on? It’s not like she tried some shit and we caught her. She was sitting there waiting to be caught.”
Shay shrugged. “Who knows? From what I’ve heard about the Eyes, plus what I’ve seen, he might have partial mind-control magic, but it’s obviously not perfect. Maybe she was just too strong-willed for him.” She snickered. “Or maybe she’s more afraid of you than the Eyes.”
“Seems like he fucked up this time.” James snorted.
“Everyone and everything makes mistakes. Just so happens his is gonna be more serious.” Shay tapped the hollow spot in the floor with the sword. “Just hope he didn’t run.”
“That fucker is still going down, no matter where he’s hiding.” James hoisted the sledgehammer in both hands. “I’ll find him eventually. No way a cocky fucker like that is gonna run from the rep he built up in LA.”
“What if he moves to another country?”
James furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. Let’s just hope he keeps this shit simple for both of us.”
He brought down the hammer. It crashed into the floor, cracking the tile and sending several pieces sideways. Dim red light escaped from the ragged new hole.
A few more swings reduced the hidden door to a pile of rubble in a glowing tunnel. A narrow metal ladder extended down.
“All these halls and tunnels,” James commented. “It’s like this fucker’s part rat.”
Shay snickered. “I’m beginning to think the Eyes is not the creepy demonic badass he’s convinced everyone he is.” She shook her head.
“Don’t really give a shit.” James tossed the sledgehammer behind him, jumped into the tunnel, and landed with a thud. “Asshole dies either way.”
“Catch.” Shay dropped the sword. “Whatever the fuck he is, he’s still magic.”
James caught it by the hilt and Shay hurried down the ladder. At the bottom, she pulled out her gnome-crafted knives.
Shay raised her blades. “Good thing I didn’t stop at Warehouse Three on the way back from the job. Not like I carry the sword everywhere with me. Too bad I didn’t have any anti-magic magazines for my 9mm with me, though.”
“Don’t worry,” James growled, “I’m gonna cut his head off anyway. I was pissed about my truck before, but now I’m pissed about this bullshit hiding. I didn’t think I’d have to drag him out of a hole.”
Shay chuckled. “You run through enough dangerous magical criminals, a few of them are bound to be smart enough to know when they’re outclassed. Well, smart after the fact. It was kind of dumbass to run your truck off the road to begin with. Even if that wasn’t his idea, he did follow up by sending Kathy at you with that orb.”
James looked over his sh
oulder. The tunnel only extended a couple of yards in that direction, dead-ending into a metal wall. He couldn’t make out the other end because of the dim red light.
“Does it matter?” he asked.
“I don’t care either way, but what are you gonna do if he apologizes?” Shay’s eyebrows lifted.
“Fuckers like him never apologize.”
James set out down the hallway, his hand tight around the hilt of the tachi.
Shay trailed behind him, snickering. “Our last few dates have ended up in dark tunnels.”
“This is a date?”
“A couple gets together and does a fun activity together they both enjoy? That sounds like a date to me.” Shay shrugged. “Just need food.”
James chuckled. “We’ll grab barbeque and pizza on the way home. I’m hungry too.”
A bright white bolt of energy shot from the other end of the hallway and struck James. The energy spread across his chest, producing a prickly pain but no obvious wounds.
Near maximum adaptation already achieved, Whispy reported. Kill enemy and find stronger enemy for maximum adaptation.
Shay crouched, her face tight. “Well, he stuck around.”
“Good. Almost proud of him for having balls.” James grunted and shook his head. “Whatever the fuck he’s using, it’s something I’ve run into before. Most of the magic they threw at me in here I’ve run into before.”
Shay frowned. “Huh. That cuts down on the chance that he’s some weirdo freak like He Who Hunts. “
“Why don’t you come out, asshole?” James shouted. “Instead of making me dig you out of there?”
Another white bolt zoomed through the tunnel and struck James. He stumbled back, a slight burning sensation at the point of impact.
Near maximum adaptation already achieved.
“I’ve been hearing about you for a while, Eyes,” James yelled down the tunnel, “but I left your ass alone because I didn’t figure it was my business. You didn’t fuck with me either, which makes you smarter than most of the dumbshits in LA. But you pushed too hard when the cops asked me for a favor, asshole. You should have just taken your shit and run back to Oriceran. I wouldn’t have chased you. Not worth the damned trouble. You shouldn’t have disrespected me, and you shouldn’t have disrespected my F-350. That truck is a fucking classic, and it’s hard to find parts, you dumb sonofabitch.” He emphasized his rant with a growl.
Shay snickered. “Always good to have priorities in life.”
James shrugged. “You telling me you wouldn’t have killed a fucker if they shot up your car?”
“I’d care more about them trying to kill me, but I do see your point.”
He walked forward. “This shit’s gonna be over very soon.”
Bright light flooded the tunnel and James squinted. His eyes took a few seconds to adjust. The tunnel dead-ended again about five yards ahead at another metal wall.
Father Thomas appeared in front of the wall. A fit middle-aged short-haired woman in a suit stood next to him.
“What the fuck?” James muttered.
Shay frowned and brought up one of her knives. “Just to be clear, you also see a priest standing next to a woman?”
“Yeah.” James wrapped his other hand around the hilt of the sword. “It’s Father Thomas, but I don’t know who the woman is. Never seen her before in my life.”
“Her name is Natalie. Was Natalie.” Shay sighed.
James glanced her way. “Isn’t that the woman you killed the night you faked your death?”
“Yeah. So, what, we’re fighting ghosts now? Ghosts are annoying.”
“No.” James shook his head. “If the Eyes had that kind of magic, it would have come out before. They aren’t ghosts. They’re nothing.”
Shay snorted. “They’re obviously something.”
James locked his attention on Father Thomas and waited for the priest to taunt him or question him about how he’d lived his life.
But nothing happened. The priest didn’t move or say anything.
“It’s a trick,” James growled. “He’s trying to get into our heads, like a despair bug.”
Shay frowned. “Oh. That’s fucking annoying.”
Father Thomas and Natalie shimmered out of existence. Durand appeared alongside a beautiful long-haired platinum blonde in blue and Grandfather, the former head of the Harriken.
“Snegurka,” Shay explained. “What’s this supposed to be, the greatest hits of people we’ve killed? I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel broken up about killing Snegurka or that Harriken fucker.”
James stepped forward and swung the sword at the apparitions. They disappeared in shadowy mist.
“Come out and fucking fight already, asshole,” he shouted. “You think a couple of illusions are gonna make me run?”
Two new people appeared, but James didn’t recognize either of them or their species. They looked humanoid and had crimson skin, jet-black hair, and yellow eyes.
Pain shot through James’ head. It was as if someone were screaming directly into his mind.
He hissed and collapsed to his knees, tachi clattering to the ground.
Shay rushed to his side. “What the hell is happening? Mind attack?”
“My fucking head,” James growled. A few seconds passed before he understood what he was experiencing. “No, not the Eyes. Whispy is fucking screaming in my head.”
Shay said something, but he couldn’t make it out. The mental noise clouded his awareness.
The symbiont flooded his mind. James’ vision wavered, and he tried to fight off the darkness at the edges of his vision.
SEVERE LINK ERROR. CONFLICTING DIRECTIVES. KILL ENEMY. KILL ENEMY. KILL ENEMY.
Another blast of agony shot through James’ head, and he howled in pain.
James forced himself to his feet and stared straight ahead. He concentrated on steadying his breathing, then picked up the sword and swung it through the unknown images. They vanished.
Get a fucking hold on yourself, Whispy.
The mental screaming stopped.
Memory restoration in progress for link repair and neurological rebalancing, Whispy announced.
James blinked several times as new memories blasted into his consciousness.
Chapter Twenty-One
The young boy crept to his parents’ room, leaning toward the half-open door and listening. They had often looked sad in the last few days, especially when they hid in the room and talked.
“I’ve already seen the orders,” his father whispered. “There’s no doubt about it. He’s compatible with a symbiont. The test levels are high. Very high. They aren’t even going to wait. They are going to bond him tomorrow and make him a Forerunner. There’s nothing we can do.”
The boy’s mother laughed bitterly. “An honor—that’s what they would tell us. To sacrifice our one and only child. The glories of our lines combined to turn him into a tool. It’s disgusting.”
His father hissed. “Quiet. What are you saying?”
A loud slap came from inside the room, and his father grunted.
“You’re pathetic,” his mother yelled. “What am I saying? It’s our only child.”
“We’ll be allowed another after the bonding.”
His mother snorted. “Listen to yourself. You’ve told me these last few years about all your hopes for him, and now you say, ‘We’ll be allowed another’ as if he were nothing. I thought I married a man of strength, not a sniveling coward. And you call yourself a Vax.”
“We have no choice!” his father thundered back. “It is the way of things. The strong will survive and the weak will perish. Who are we to stand against the teachings of the Temple?”
“The Vax are strong.” She scoffed. “That’s what they tell us.”
“It’s true. The bonded can lay entire worlds to waste. Without the bonded, we’d be at the mercy of our enemies like we were in the past. He can protect us. He can protect all of us.”
The boy peeked th
rough the crack in the door. His mother wore an angry scowl and his father paced, his yellow eyes downcast.
“We’re nothing but pathetic parasites upon the galaxy,” his mother hissed. “The Culling Path is self-delusion—destruction masquerading as protection. Cowardice passed down generations and called strength.”
His father stopped pacing and stared at her. “You’ve been reading forbidden works, haven’t you? This is heresy. You’ll get us executed.”
She sneered at him. “We murder others to protect ourselves, and for what? So our children won’t be taken and killed? But our own people take them from us and send them off to fight and die.”
His father sighed. “Conflict comes from impurity. Purity breeds strength. And—"
“And strength will protect the Vax,” finished his mother. “The Temple’s words are like ashes in my mouth, and I spit them out.” She jabbed a finger in the air toward his father. “Was this what you wanted? For our son to be bonded?”
“It’s an honor,” his father declared by rote, but his voice trembled.
“An honor? They’ll take our son and bond him to a soulless thing that will dominate his mind and body. They even admit it’s soulless.” His mother shook her head. “Everything he is will die, and the symbiont will rule him. If this is strength, I think I prefer weakness.” She put a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “It’s easy for us to look at those creatures and think they are the best of us, but they’re a mockery. They are impure. What purity can come from a thing that constantly changes you and controls your thoughts? The truly strong would sacrifice themselves rather than foist that duty on children. It doesn’t matter how many races the bonded slaughter; if this is the way of things, the Vax are spiraling into weakness. We can’t save our people, but we can save our son.”
His father’s breath caught. “What are you saying?”
“There are people who will help. We can give our son a chance to be something more. To be free. To be more than a tool.”
“People?” He shook his head. “You mean heretics and traitors?”
“My highest loyalty is to my family,” the boy’s mother declared. “If that means it costs my life, so be it. That is a mother’s strength.”
One Epic Ring: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 14) Page 17