Hail To The King: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 8)

Home > Fantasy > Hail To The King: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 8) > Page 19
Hail To The King: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 8) Page 19

by Michael Anderle


  Lars kept circling James with a stupid grin plastered on his face. “You could just get on your knees and let me beat your ass, Brownstone. If you do, maybe I’ll make it quick. Otherwise, it’s going to be long and really, really hurt. Because I really want to see you cry and beg.”

  Fuck, this guy likes to talk. He’s almost King Pyro-bad.

  Patrick offered no verbal taunts, but his raised wand was more than enough threat as he circled the opposite direction.

  The other guy’s too focused. That could be a problem.

  James’ gaze flicked between the men. Lars was the greater threat, but the bounty hunter wasn’t sure if he could take a direct hit from the wizard’s fireball after what he’d just witnessed.

  Need that fucker to clip me so you can adapt.

  The amulet’s response was straightforward. Kill.

  Yeah, thought you’d say that.

  James grunted and kept his distance from both men. “You’re not leaving here, Lars. I might not kill you, but I’m gonna at least break your legs. Then I’ll call AET and have them pick you up. I’m sure the cops would love to send your ass to an ultra-max for what you did in Atlanta.”

  “Fuck you, Brownstone. And fuck the cops. I’m not afraid of you, and I’m not afraid of them.”

  The bounty hunter ducked as Patrick’s wand spat out a quick firebolt. The heat warmed his face as the solid orange-red bolt flew inches over his head.

  Damn. Don’t want to take one in the face yet. Or ever.

  The amulet murmured excitedly.

  James ignored his partner and fired several rounds toward Patrick. The bullets bounced off and landed on the ground as molten pools.

  He sprinted toward the men as Patrick continued launching firebolts. A bolt struck James in the leg and he hissed, collapsing to one knee. He tried to ignore the agony of the deep burn as he pushed himself back to his feet, the amulet murmuring and obviously excited about a new kind of attack.

  Lars laughed. “That’s all you got, Brownstone? I might not even need to get involved. And here I thought I was going to have to double-team you. What a fucking disappointment. Maybe your rep is all talk.”

  James fired several times at Lars, but the bullets bounced off his hardened gray skin with a spark. He holstered his weapon. This wasn’t a fight he was going to win with a gun.

  Wonder where I can get a magic gun? Do I have to be a wizard to use one?

  Ignoring the searing pain in his leg, the bounty hunter stalked toward Patrick.

  Maybe because I can talk to you now, I trust you more. Or maybe it’s because I know how you work. Let’s show this fucker how we do things.

  Patrick snorted. “See you in Hell, Brownstone.” Another firebolt blasted into James’ chest.

  The intense heat burned a hole in his shirt, but rather than the searing agony he felt in his leg only a brief burning sensation passed over his skin.

  The wizard blinked. “What the fuck?”

  James continued advancing. “Surprised, asshole?”

  A loud “Oooooh” rose from the crowd in the Black Sun when James absorbed the blast.

  Tyler stared at the screen, surprised despite having bet on the bounty hunter. “Does he have some sort of anti-magic artifact?” He turned to Kathy and opened his mouth, but closed it when the doubtful biker from before rushed over.

  “I need to place some bets on Brownstone,” the biker announced. He looked at the TV with panic in his eyes. “Now. I want to pull my earlier bets.”

  Tyler shook his head. “That’s not how this shit works, and you know it. Don’t place bets you don’t believe in.’

  “But I don’t have any more cash on me. Come on, man.”

  The information broker tapped his phone on the table. “Got a bank account? Let’s do some electronic transfers. You can still hedge and earn some sweet Brownstone cash. I’m equipped to handle that.”

  “Oh, yeah. Let’s do that.”

  Patrick blasted Brownstone a few more times in his arms and legs. The wizard was doing a good job of destroying the bounty hunter’s clothes, but his attacks were now only leaving red spots with some minor surface burns rather than the deep tissue burn in Brownstone’s leg from the first attack.

  His hands shaking, the biker fished out his phone and began furiously tapping to try to initiate a money transfer. “Come on. Come on.”

  Tyler allowed himself to grin.

  See, asshole? Betting against Brownstone is like betting against the sun coming up. I told you assholes before, but you didn’t listen.

  Lars grunted. “What the fuck, Patrick? Kill the motherfucker.”

  “I’m trying.” The wizard backpedaled. “I need a few seconds to generate a bigger attack. Keep him off me. I don’t get it. He should already be dead.”

  “For fuck’s sake! Fine, I’ll fucking kill him myself. Wanted to anyway.” Lars let out a low growl and charged James.

  Here it comes.

  If the bounty hunter hadn’t had an injured leg, he might have been able to dodge. Instead, the literally hardened criminal slammed into James, his armored rocky skin turning him into a solid battering ram.

  James grunted and stumbled back only a few feet. The pain in his leg was a lot worse than what he felt from the collision.

  Something approaching surprise crossed Lars’ face. He’d obviously expected the bounty hunter to go flying.

  Simple kinetic force doesn’t work much anymore, asshole. My amulet had that shit handled a long time ago.

  James took the opportunity presented by the other man’s surprise to reach down and grab a healing potion. The first bottle he pulled up was already broken in half. He tossed it to the ground and grabbed the second, downing the contents just before Lars slammed into him again, this time knocking him down.

  He rolled to his side, the pain in his leg lessening, and the wound sealing itself. Lars slammed an armored foot into James, launching him several feet this time, but it became clear a couple seconds later that the real point of the attack was providing a better target for the wizard.

  James managed to duck, his shoulder and side taking a glancing blow from the white-hot flame. The ball exploded in front of him, knocking him down. He hissed at the mild burns now covering his body, and a few vanished from the lingering effects of the healing potion.

  Patrick blinked and shook his head. “How is he still alive? This is fucking unbelievable.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, asshole,” James rumbled, and stood.

  Lars laughed and clapped. “Now this is what I’m talking about. This is actually fun, and here I thought you’d die pretty quickly. Thanks for not making this shit boring as fuck, Brownstone.”

  James snorted. “Oh, this isn’t the part where you go on about how my rep is all smoke and mirrors? Maybe you’re not a total fucking moron, then.”

  “Nah, fucker. I believe your rep. Why do you think I brought all my friends? You’re worth it, Brownstone. Just figured it wouldn’t hurt to soften you up. Winning a fight is as much about strategy as strength.”

  “So you are afraid. Thought so.”

  Lars shrugged. “Sometimes it’s about just using your noggin, fucker. You’re a thug, so maybe you don’t get that. At the end of the day, you need to live to fight another day.”

  James grunted. “You think that’s clever?”

  “Doesn’t matter if you don’t. You’ll be fucking dead soon.”

  Patrick shook his head. “There’s no way you should have been able to survive those hits.” He lifted his wand again, his arm shaking. “No way.” He took a deep breath. “You won’t survive next time. You’re dead, Brownstone.”

  James charged the wizard. A firebolt missed his shoulder by a hairsbreadth. The bounty hunter yanked his K-Bar from its scorched sheath.

  “A knife?” The wizard sneered. “You’ll never get that to my body, Bro—”

  Patrick was right. James didn’t get it to his body. Instead, he sliced the man’s wand in half with a stroke.


  The bounty hunter didn’t get a chance for a follow-up attack since Lars grabbed him and threw him in the opposite direction. James thudded into the ground and rolled several feet before hopping back up. His K-Bar was embedded in the dirt and sand.

  Kill, the amulet whispered.

  I’m working on it, asshole. Without the wand, that wizard’s nothing.

  Patrick was staring at his sliced wand, disbelief etched into his face. Lars snickered and backhanded the man to the ground. A sickening crunch sounded as his head hit the ground and his neck snapped.

  James shook his head. “You’re one sick asshole, and I’ve run into a lot of them.”

  Lars shrugged. “What can I say, fucker? I’ve got to be me, and I don’t have time for weak-ass pussies who can’t do much. He had his shot, and he couldn’t finish you. Don’t worry. You’re joining him soon.”

  The two men started circling one another.

  “You think you can take me after everything you’ve seen?” James asked. “You’re not just a sick asshole, you’re an arrogant prick.”

  “We’ll see who the arrogant prick is. I think you’re fucking dead in the next few minutes, Brownstone.”

  Shay stared at the images of the fight on her phone, her jaw tight. Peyton had accessed the Black Sun’s systems and was streaming Tyler’s camera feeds directly to her.

  Damn it, James!

  Her lover had been doing well so far, but he’d also only been facing weaker opponents. The psycho Lars Hansen didn’t seem even remotely concerned that the bounty hunter had gone through so many of his little helpers. Fortunately, with the help of the healing potion, James was as good as when he started the fight.

  This is why you don’t agree to dumbass stunts like this, idiot.

  The tomb raider delivered another few satisfying kicks to a nearby tree trunk. The pounding heart was familiar, but she wasn’t used to complete helplessness.

  Shay let out a long sigh.

  I guess I shouldn’t be so upset. It’s not like he’s doing anything different than when I first met him. He’s opened up to me, but that doesn’t mean he’s changed from being a bounty hunter who goes after nasty assholes.

  Sure, I’ve changed. I’m not the same cold-blooded killer I once was, but when we went down to Mexico together, he took a detour to go after a necromancer the Mexican military was trying to bomb into submission. He makes this guy look like a Boy Scout in comparison.

  Shay groaned. Oh, they spent time together and chatted, but some of her most exciting memories with James involved them killing dozens if not hundreds of people together. Harriken, magical assassins, the Nuevo Gulf Cartel. Hard to complain about him getting into danger when she enjoyed getting into danger with him.

  I just wish I could be there with you.

  The tomb raider routinely went on jobs that were, in many ways, more dangerous than the bounties James dealt with, given the strange monsters and magical beings she encountered. She didn’t let him know many of the details, but there was some thick hypocrisy accompanying her complaining about him going after a level-five bounty when she’d had to flee invisible armies and had fought a demon-possessed elf who might have been planning to invade another planet.

  She leaned her back against the tree trunk she’d been kicking and slumped until her knees were at her chest. “The dumbass is just learning what a relationship is like and how to deal with a kid. Maybe I’m asking too much. Stupid fucking men, being stupid all the damned time. How our species continues to exist is a wonder no one may ever understand.”

  The tomb raider smiled when James slashed the wand in half.

  Yeah, I have to remember that you are James Brownstone.

  “Nice move. It won’t always work for you, but it’s a good tactic. Now it’s really just you and Lars.”

  Shay nodded to herself. She’d have to remember to compliment him on it once the fight was over. She needed to let him know she respected him.

  James would survive. He had to survive, and he had the Whispering Amulet of Doom, which had already proven how quickly it could adapt. She’d personally tested it.

  Wonder if any of the other dumbasses watching this understand what they are witnessing, and now know why they should never, ever fuck with him.

  Most of James’ lower shirt was in burnt tatters, but the upper part still concealed his amulet and provided a nice view of the abs that proved her lover should be crowned Emperor of Abtopia.

  Don’t die. I’ll miss those.

  Shay blew out a breath. She shouldn’t have called Alison in a fury. She might not be prepared to let the girl call her Mom, but she was still Aunt Shay, so she needed to be strong and act like a damned adult.

  The tomb raider ran a hand through her hair. “I guess this is the hard part of love: worry.”

  Shay tapped out a quick text to Alison.

  Sorry I got so heated earlier. I appreciate you talking me down and contacting him. It was a good thing I didn’t yell at him right before a fight. Wouldn’t want him off his game.

  No problem, Alison replied. I know we both love and worry about him.

  Shay returned her attention to the camera feed. “Just finish Lars off already, James.”

  James slammed a fist into Lars’ face. He might as well have been hitting a rock wall. The bounty hunter shook out his fist, and the criminal knocked James back with a powerful blow.

  An exchange of fierce punches followed, both men landing solid blows but both unable to do much damage.

  Kill, the amulet hissed.

  James tried a kick next, but it only sent Lars stumbling back a few feet.

  How do I finish this asshole off? Any ideas?

  Enemy.

  Yeah. Thanks for that.

  The bounty hunter backed up and narrowed his eyes. Every defense had a weakness. He just needed to find it.

  Lars swaggered forward, grinning. “I’ll give you credit, Brownstone. Those hits would have caved in most men’s faces, but you’re still standing; just a little burned and bloody. I guess we’re similar. That’s making this shit exciting.”

  “Nope, not similar at all. You’re a psycho asshole. I’m a little OCD, at most.”

  “Psycho asshole? No, I’m just a realist, Brownstone.” Lars took a few more steps toward James. “My question is, how long can you last?” He pointed at James. “You may be taking a lot of hits, but you’re still hurt, and it’s time to make sure that you stay hurt.” He charged.

  James brought up his fists but Lars ducked low, tackling him. The criminal threw a few stinging punches before the bounty hunter kicked him off and got back to his feet.

  Lars laughed. “I win now.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? That barely hurt.”

  The gray-skinned criminal pointed at the James’ tactical belt. “Sorry, had to crush your little potions.”

  James kept his gaze focused on Lars while he felt in the pouch; nothing but glass shards and loose liquid.

  “Fucker. Do you have any idea how expensive that shit was?’

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be dead soon enough.” Lars offered James a wide smile.

  That was when the bounty hunter noticed a key detail: blood on the man’s teeth.

  James yanked out his .45, grateful it hadn’t been incinerated in the blast. “Time to end this, you fucking psycho. Just so you know, I’m earning a shitload of money off my bets on this.”

  “A gun?” Lars stalked toward James. “You already tried that. Desperate, Brownstone?”

  “Nope. Just tired of your ass and your mouth.”

  Lars took another step forward. “Then lay down and prepare to—”

  Wisps of smoke floated off the edge of James’ fired .45 as the bullet passed through Lars’ open mouth, into his brain, and out of his head, along with a good chunk of bone.

  James holstered his pistol as Lars’ body fell backward, the criminal’s gaze locked in a death stare.

  “Learned that little trick in Japan.
Say hi to the Devil for me, asshole.”

  25

  A few days later, James leaned against a wall of the Brownstone Building watching the men go through PT led by Staff Sergeant Royce. The former gang members had always been strong, but it’d been interesting to watch their bodies slowly be sculpted into warrior physiques.

  Crunches followed push-ups, which led to burpees.

  Royce had kept on about strong minds and strong bodies. Given how the men had been performing in both LA and Las Vegas, James was a believer. He might not be a good leader or trainer, but at least he was good at delegating to men who were.

  The Brownstone Agency had a bright future. It wasn’t just about improving the lives of some ex-gang members. Once they finished getting all the men up to speed, they’d have to look into recruiting more trainees.

  James ran his hand over the amulet underneath his shirt. He wasn’t bonded with it, but the last couple of weeks had changed his perspective on the artifact. He could communicate with the thing, at least a little, and it had more potential than he’d realized.

  Huh. Shay said it probably had more powers I could unlock, but I didn’t figure it’d happen that way.

  He still wasn’t sure how much to trust the thing or what motivated it, but for now he’d keep it near him as he continued to delve into its secrets.

  Wonder what else the bad boy can do?

  James frowned. Relying on a self-aware alien amulet wasn’t exactly high on the list of simple ways to live and work, but at the same time, he couldn’t ignore such a useful tool. The amulet wasn’t just an artifact. He’d been found with it, as if it were meant for him. A legacy of his parents perhaps, and his world.

  The bounty hunter blew out a breath and shook his head. So many things had changed. He had been just a simple man who loved barbeque and lived alone with his dog.

  Trey stepped out of the building in his workout shorts and T-shirt. He had a smile on his face “You know why I like you, James?”

  James looked Trey’s way. “Why? I was just standing here.”

 

‹ Prev