Karma Is A Bitch: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 12)

by Michael Anderle

  “How’s the wine?” Tyler asked.

  Maria set it down. “Good. Don’t know if it’s worth as much as they’re charging you, but it beats the crap I get from the grocery store.”

  Tyler chuckled. “Well, I thought a nice dinner might be in order. As fun as take-out and a movie at your place is, it’s nice to dress up.” His gaze roamed her body. “For both of us.”

  Damn, boy. Save it until we’re out of the restaurant.

  She hoped her cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt. “Is that the only reason?”

  Tyler shook his head. “No. You have seemed a little…off lately. I thought it might get your mind off things.”

  Maria chuckled. “Off?”

  “Yeah. Ever since the Council base raid wrapped up. It’s like you’re not all there.” Tyler made a circular gesture with his hand. “I’m an information broker. It’s my job to notice things about people, and I’d be a shitty boyfriend if I didn’t notice something’s bothering you.”

  She laughed. “It’s still weird to hear that.”

  Tyler furrowed his brow. “What?”

  “That you’re my boyfriend.” Maria shrugged. “I’ve mostly dated cops, but it’s gotten harder the higher up I’ve gone, and it’s hard to find a man even in the force who isn’t intimidated by a ball-busting AET lieutenant.” She let out a long sigh. “Sometimes I just wonder.”

  “About what?” Tyler downed the rest of his glass of wine and refilled it from the bottle sitting in ice in the middle of the table.

  Maria shrugged. “The force. I’ve been a cop since I got out of college. It’s weird to think I’m in my forties, and I’ve been doing this for so long. This leave of absence has given me time to think.”

  Tyler frowned and looked over his shoulder. “I’m thinking about the fact that I’m paying a shitload of money for this meal, and they’re taking forever to deliver the entrees. Those appetizers weren’t very filling. That’s the problem with fancy food. Ten times the price for one-tenth the size.”

  Maria gave him a death stare.

  He held up a hand. “I’m still listening. Just hungry. Didn’t eat all day. Figured if I was hungrier it’d make the expensive food tastier, but what about your leave of absence?” He picked up his glass.

  “I’m thinking about resigning.”

  Tyler slowly set his glass down, watching Maria with obvious disbelief in his eyes. “What?”

  Yeah, didn’t see that coming, did you, Mr. Information-Broker Boyfriend?

  Maria shrugged. “I love being a cop. I love protecting people, and I love taking down overpowered assholes who are threatening innocent people, but the politicians, and all the higher-up brass who are sucking up to the politicians—they make everything impossible. I’m losing men, and the asshole politicians are more worried about budgets than dead cops—or hell, dead civilians.” She shook her head. “I’m not going to lie. Working that mission with Brownstone felt good. Damned good.”

  Tyler frowned. “I don’t know if I like where this is going.”

  Maria leaned forward. “We were kicking ass and taking out the bad guys, just like I do with AET, but there wasn’t all the political crap. We just armed up with what we needed, tracked down the assholes, and took them out. It felt very freeing.”

  “Well, fine, quit then.” Tyler shrugged. “You’re kickass. It’s not like you needed Brownstone to know that. There are different ways to help people.” He took another sip of wine. “You could be a security consultant. Sit back, tell people what they want to hear, and make money. Hell, tell them what they need to hear but don’t want to believe because they’ve been too cheap before. It’ll be so easy, it should be illegal.”

  Maria shook her head. “No, not yet. I can’t.”

  “Can’t quit?”

  “No, can’t take that kind of desk job.” She frowned. “I’ve got another ten years of fieldwork in me yet. I want to be hands-on, not just some consultant running around telling museum assholes to fix obvious holes in their security.”

  Tyler rubbed his chin. “Why not start your own security firm then? You can hire people and lead from the front.”

  “I’m not a businesswoman. I’ve been a cop half my life. It’s all I know how to do. Even my degree is in criminology. There’s no way I can build a successful business from the ground up, even with contacts.”

  Damn, I sound pathetic. At least he’s not giving me the pity look. That’d be too much.

  Tyler picked up his glass to take a sip. “Look, I might have a…different sort of business, but I do understand business, and any business is all about opportunities. I’m sure you can get contracts set up with the feds or something, if only because of all that shit you did with the Council, Brownstone, and Shay. It’ll be easier than you think.”

  Brownstone…

  Maria’s heart rate kicked up, and her eyes widened. “That’s it.”

  He smiled. “Yeah. See? It’s just about thinking about it differently. New perspective and all that.”

  She shook her head so hard she got a few looks from nearby tables. “No, Brownstone’s the key. Don’t you get it?”

  Tyler frowned. “No, I don’t get it. What? You want to use Brownstone’s connections?”

  Maria snorted. “No. Screw starting my own business. I told you earlier that working with him made me feel free. He’s already got a business, and he already goes after the worst scum. I’d be saving myself time and not just babysitting some corporate business jerk who pissed off too many protestors. I’d be helping take down real threats.”

  “You’ve got be kidding me.” Tyler set down his glass and scrubbed his face with his hand. “You can’t possibly be thinking of working with Brownstone. You used to hate the guy.”

  Maria rolled her eyes. “In case you didn’t notice, shit changed. Why do you care so much? I thought stuff changed for you, too. I thought you were friends.”

  Tyler held up a finger. “More like frenemies, but that’s not the point.”

  “What is the point, then?”

  Tyler sighed. “That guy’s trouble. It’s like God decided to test out new Horsemen of the Apocalypse on Brownstone first or some crap like that. You join up with him, you’ll be in danger all that time. And…” He sighed. “I don’t like that hungry gleam in your eye.”

  Maria’s expression softened. “If anything, working with Brownstone will be safer than working as the tactical head of the AET.”

  “How the hell do you figure?”

  She smirked and gulped down half her glass. “Because I was always dealing with funding and equipment requisition issues. At least if I’m working with Brownstone, I’ll always have him backing me up in the end. Money can’t buy that level of backup.”

  “Still don’t like it,” Tyler grumbled. “Just think about it.”

  “Sure, I’ll think about it.” Maria nodded past him. “Looks like our food’s here.”

  Tyler grunted. “Finally. What? Did they actually take a boat out into the ocean to catch the fish on order?”

  Trey adjusted his tie as he stood in front of Zoe’s door.

  Damn. Should I be doing this? I mean, she took my energy and shit. Don’t that make her like a succubus or something? But damn, was that good sex, and that rack…fuck. That’s got to be magical.

  He shook his head. “Fuck it. If I can take on dangerous bounties, I can hit on a woman I’ve already slept with.” He knocked on the door.

  A moment later, the door swung open, and Zoe stood there in a white silk robe, her eyes bloodshot. A thin smile appeared on her face. “Hello, Trey,” she slurred.

  Fruity wine notes accompanied her breath. Trey still didn’t understand why she needed to get so blitzed to do most of her magic, but there was a lot about the arcane arts he didn’t understand.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe this ain’t the best time to chat.”

  Zoe laughed. “Why? Because I’m drunk?” She winked. “Oh, I’m drunk most of the time, my little
supernova. You’ll have to get used to that.”

  Trey chuckled. “Supernova? I like the sound of that.”

  She pulled the door farther open with a merry smile and nodded inside. “Please join me.”

  He stepped inside, careful to avoid any of the pots on the ground or the hanging pots above. As with every other time he’d been there, the plants covered the range from the normal and green to the moving and glowing.

  Zoe closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, part of her robe slipping off and revealing one of her shoulders. She licked her lips. “I’m glad you came back.”

  Trey tried to avoid a frown, but he couldn’t resist crossing his arms. “Oh?”

  Is she just playing me now?

  “Yes. I’ve been busy with orders, but I’ve found myself thinking back again and again to my time with you.” She shuddered, her eyes half-closed. “I wish I could explain how fantastic it was.”

  Trey grinned and shrugged. “You know, maybe I’m just like the Mozart of fucking.”

  Zoe giggled, lifting her hand to her face. “Perhaps. I will admit that part was satisfying, but you are a man of unusually potent energy.” She took in and let out a few deep breaths. “And a witch could get addicted to both aspects of that.” She leaned forward. “Even though I should know better than to toy with anyone in the orbit of James Brownstone.”

  Trey frowned. He wanted to be with Zoe, but he wouldn’t spend time with any woman who disrespected James. The man had done so much for Trey, and as with Shorty, he would never let himself forget.

  “What do you have against the big man? I mean, you sell him potions and shit.”

  She waved a hand. “No, no, no. You misunderstand. James isn’t a man I’d count as an enemy. He’s just very dangerous, and by extension everyone around him is dangerous.” She took a shuddering breath and swallowed. “I won’t lie. I do want you, Trey. I tell myself you live a dangerous life, and he’ll drag you into a more dangerous life, but I also know that you aren’t the raging inferno he is. I could experience glories both magical and sexual with you…and not be destroyed.”

  Trey chuckled. “That’s the weirdest fucking come-on line I’ve ever heard.” He shrugged. “But I’m not gonna sit here and lie. You’re damn fine, and shit, I can’t get you out of my fucking head, but I also am kind of sensing here that you’re not used to settling down with one man.”

  Zoe barked a laugh. “A proper Dionysian revel is a glorious carnival of the basest pleasures. No, I’m not one who usually confines myself to a single man, or woman for that matter.”

  “Damn.” Trey shrugged. “That’s a fuckload of competition. I ain’t saying I can play like that, Zoe. This shit is serious to me.” He scrunched his forehead. “Well, shit’s serious to you, too, but it’s special to me, you know what I’m saying? If I’m gonna be with you, I need to know you’re not fucking everyone in sight. If that’s too much for you, no harm, no foul. We all got to do what we got to do. I’m just telling you what I can handle.”

  She sighed. “I will admit most of my magical energy comes more from the drinking than sex. It’d be a…difficult adjustment. I’ve also lived this way for a long time.”

  Trey stared at her. “How long we talking? You don’t look so old.”

  Zoe gave him a coy smile. “I was friends with Mata Hari. Now there was a woman who knew how to party.”

  “Damn.” Trey blinked several times after doing a few quick calculations in his head. At the minimum, she was over a hundred years old, but she looked like she was in her mid-twenties.

  Talk about a GILF, but damn, she’s hotter than fuck. She’s cradle-robbing with me. Still, she talks about getting addicted to me, and I think I’m already addicted to her, but I need to play this shit cool. She’s hot, way older than me, and magical. Talk about having all the power in the relationship.

  Trey cleared his throat, looking her up and down, his gaze lingering on an exposed thigh. She sure knew how to work a white silk robe.

  “You would look damn good even if you were like a quarter of how old I think you are.”

  Zoe sashayed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, licking her lips. “You’re special, I think. Worth the sacrifice.”

  He grinned. “Not gonna argue with the expert.”

  “A challenge, then.” Her breath hitched, and Trey found himself transfixed by the rise and fall of her exposed cleavage. “Satisfy me enough to prove I need no one else. Break me, and then I’ll consider being exclusive to you. I’ll even make this easy. I’ll deny myself others in the meantime to give you a chance to prove that it’s worth it.”

  Trey leaned forward, his lips almost brushing hers. “Challenge accepted.”

  Chapter Five

  James stepped out of Phillips Bar-B-Que, still gnawing on a rib, a plastic bag filled with more protein goodness for later at home and tomorrow. His mind and heart were at ease, the beast soothed by massive amounts of sauced meat.

  Don’t know why Shay doesn’t get that this is the best shit people ever created. Better than fucking penicillin, even.

  He grunted. Maybe not that, but at least a close second.

  His hair stood up on the back of his head, and a loud buzz sounded from behind him. James turned around.

  A swirling portal appeared, tinged red at the edges. Four men in slacks and dark shirts stepped through, all holding wands at their sides. The portal winked shut behind them.

  Wizards? I hope they’re just hungry.

  James took a final bite of his rib and let it fall into his bag. “Who the fuck are you?”

  The wizards all whipped their wands up and chanted in unison in a language he didn’t understand.

  Lacking bonding to Whispy Doom, James wasn’t cocky enough to think he could take a direct hit from four wizards. He leapt to the side as four firebolts screamed past him and smashed into the wall, exploding, and showering the parking lot with drywall, wood, and bits of metal. He kept running until he could duck behind a huge dumpster at the back of the parking lot.

  Several people screamed inside and ran toward the back, but no one looked hurt yet.

  The owner stared at the wall from behind the counter, his eyes wide.

  Those fuckers. Why did they have to get an innocent barbeque restaurant involved in this?

  “If you’re gonna fucking try to kill me,” James shouted, “you should at least tell me who you are.” He jumped again as a fireball appeared and flew toward him.

  His bag of ribs slipped out of his hand to be charred beyond deliciousness by a direct hit from a fireball.

  James growled. These assholes were really starting to get on his nerves. He whipped out his .45. It didn’t matter if they had bounties or not, now that he was solidly in self-defense territory.

  He spun around the corner and opened fire. A wizard’s head exploded and another jerked back, blood spraying his neck. James’ bullets intended for the third and fourth man melted into vapor several inches away from the targets. James kept firing, but the wizards’ shields kept them alive.

  The bounty hunter returned to cover in time to avoid another firebolt, but a second aerial fireball landed right next to him and exploded. He hissed at the ache on his burned side. The smell of charred cotton and flesh filled his nostrils.

  The amulet rested comfortably against his chest but remained separated by the metal spacer. If he pulled it off he could begin bonding with it, but he’d be vulnerable for several seconds, and he wasn’t sure if he could take a direct hit during the process.

  As if the wizards could read his thoughts, they sent two fireballs at him. He rolled back, the motion rubbing his wounded side against the ground, and growled.

  No. There wouldn’t be enough time to bond with Whispy Doom while the assholes were on him. He had rounds left in his magazine, but he would have to go for the backup gear he kept in his truck.

  Can’t risk those fuckers hurting the F-350. I don’t know how long my mechanic can keep fixing it if I get i
t blown up again.

  James waited a few seconds for more fireballs to appear and sprinted around the corner. This time he took two measured, slow shots at the wizards. The bullets didn’t pierce their defenses any better than the quick shots. Keeping himself moving, he fired a couple more times.

  The wizards’ faces twitched with each shot.

  They probably can’t shoot back when I’m firing at them, which means they might be vulnerable when they take a shot.

  By his count, seven shots remained in his magazine. He eyed his truck for a brief second, his heart pounding. The fuckers had already burned his ribs, damaged one of his favorite barbeque restaurants, and now even his beloved truck might be harmed.

  Assholes. I will fucking end you. I was fucking trying to relax!

  Loud sirens sang in the distance, obviously closing.

  He didn’t care about waiting for the cops. The wizard assholes had tried to kill him, and now they were going to pay for it.

  James rushed down the parking lot, looking over his shoulder and waiting. One of the wizards launched a firebolt, and he returned fire almost instantly. His enemy fell with a scream, but the fire magic slammed into James’ shoulder, sending him spiraling to the ground with a grunt and charred flesh.

  He shoved himself to the side as he hit the ground. His instincts served him well when a fireball slammed right into where he’d been just a second before.

  With a loud growl, he hopped to his feet and opened up with his gun, letting loose three quick shots. The bullets melted, as before, but didn’t vaporize. Instead, they became glowing super-hot lead, a shotgun blast of molten metal to the face, neck, and chest of the wizard.

  The wizard howled in pain and fell to the ground. His wand dropped out of his hand and rolled away.

  James growled and stomped forward, the agony in his shoulder and side building. He kept moving forward until he was a couple of yards away, raised his gun, and emptied the last few rounds into the screaming wizard until the man stopped moving.

  He holstered his weapon and pulled a healing potion out of what remained of his jacket, then fell to his knees and downed the potion. His poor clothes remained charred and full of holes, but his burns healed quickly and the pain vanished.