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

by Michael Anderle

  “Fuck you. The longer you sit here, the sooner my guys come, and you’re dead then. Or you gonna run and hide?” James grinned at him. “I owe you for sending those guys who blew up Phillips-Bar-B-Que. You should have just floated back to Oriceran and learned your fucking lesson, asshole. But you’re stubborn, just like the fucking Harriken, and you’re gonna join them in Hell.”

  He Who Hunts flung another heat bolt at James. “Your arrogance is glorious, Brownstone. Myopic, but glorious.”

  The magical attack stung, but only reddened James’ skin this time. The Council member pelted him with a few other attacks, burning a hole in his pants but not doing much tissue damage. Even the pain from the light burn from the first attack already seemed to be fading. His amulet’s newly-developed enhanced healing and defenses were keeping him in the fight, but no man could win a fight only by taking hits.

  James let out a low growl. Even though he hated the monster in front of him, the kind of boiling rage he needed just wasn’t pouring out.

  Insufficient power for advanced transformation, Whispy complained. Near maximum adaptation achieved. Kill enemy.

  The amulet radiated faint disappointment.

  James cracked his knuckles. He needed to get mad. The lingering fire from realizing where the Council member had gathered his forces kept calmness away, but it wasn’t enough.

  Why the fuck can’t I get mad enough? Never thought I’d regret having such good control of my fucking emotions.

  James grunted and shook his head. “No matter what I have to do or who I have to pay, even if you escape today, I’ll find you, and I will make sure that you die. Do you fucking understand me?”

  He Who Hunts floated back a few feet. “Yes,” he rasped. “You’re the one I need. I’m impressed you were able to stop my massacre, but your efforts will accomplish nothing. The sickening order must perish. Chaos must reign. Today is just the first of many massacres I will deliver. I will reduce this city to nothing but ash, bone, and blood because you can’t stop me.”

  James snorted. “Fuck off, asshole. You’re not exactly hurting me either.”

  He Who Hunts let out a long hollow laugh. “Doesn’t it bother you, Brownstone? Serving inferiors? Insects beneath you? Tools of static corruption?”

  James narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck are you going on about now, you misty piece of shit?”

  “You protect these people? Why?” He Who Hunts flung a tentacle to the side. A heat bolt shot out and incinerated a nearby sign, reducing it to molten slag. “Billions of humans. Even if you killed ninety-nine percent of them, there would still be millions. Are their lives so valuable? Why do you care? They are beneath you.”

  “This isn’t Red Mist World, fucker. This is Earth.” James slammed a fist into his palm. “And we don’t take kindly to genocidal fucking maniacs regardless of what species they are.”

  The Council member floated up several feet. “If you served me, I would free you from fear, from doubt, from anything that would distract from your instincts. Revel in pure instincts. Revel in the natural order of chaos.”

  James snorted. “Spare me. I’m not looking for a new king or a new god.”

  Where the fuck is everybody else? I’m sure we can at least light this asshole up with anti-magic bullets. I hope they have some left.

  James whipped out his .45, slapped in a new magazine, and emptied it again into his opponent, but the shots still didn’t do any good. With a grunt, he holstered the weapon.

  “That’s your answer?” He Who Hunts asked. “Pointless defiance? I thought the Council members were foolish, but you’re beyond that.”

  James charged He Who Hunts and threw a punch. The creature didn’t dodge. His fist passed right through, the mist spilling out. He hissed at the heat of the contact and stumbled a few feet away, shaking out his fist. His skin was reddened, but the mist had already poured back into He Who Hunts. Another stalemate.

  He needed a better strategy. The damned Council member might portal out any second and then there was no telling when they might catch him.

  James’ blood ran cold at a sudden bark. His dog was charging into the area, the leash trailing behind him. It’d been chewed through.

  Oh, shit.

  The dog kept rushing toward He Who Hunts, barking and growling. Justice instincts.

  He Who Hunts’ tendrils lifted and a shuddering red sphere of energy grew between them. “What an insolent creature. Let’s erase it.”

  The energy screamed through the air.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  No. Not again.

  James was too far away to get to the dog and take the shot. “To me, boy,” he shouted.

  The dog changed course, sprinting toward James. The last-second move let it dodge a direct hit from the energy ball. He Who Hunts’ magic exploded right behind the dog, flinging the singed and yelping animal through the air. The dog hit the ground and rolled, still breathing but whimpering.

  “You piece of shit,” James growled. “This is your great instinct? Your great fucking chaos?”

  It was nothing but pointless cruelty from a monster who’d twisted and murdered dozens, if not hundreds, of people. Maybe thousands, for all James knew. Another small piece to push him over the edge.

  “It survived,” rasped He Who Hunts. “Impressive. Caring about this creature is even more pointless. Sentiment is false order. You begin to bore me, Brownstone. Are you the same being who defeated the soul-drinkers?”

  James trembled in rage, his heart thundering and blood pounding in his ears. His hands curled into fists as he stomped toward He Who Hunts. “I…will…fucking…end…you,” he growled.

  He Who Hunts brightened. “Interesting.”

  Yessss! Anger. Hatred. Sufficient power for extended advanced transformation, Whispy reported.

  Silver-green tendrils poured from the amulet, spreading and flattening into armor that encased first his chest, then his arms, and legs. The armor covered his hands, and claws extended, followed by a blade out of each arm. A helmet sealed around his head, and his eyes ached for a moment before he could see again, but as before, he had wider peripheral vision.

  James let out a low growl.

  Extended advanced transformation achieved. Kill the enemy. Grow stronger. Achieve primary directive. Additional adaptation minimal from current enemy.

  Heavy footfalls sounded behind him, and with his improved peripheral vision, he spotted Shay, Maria, Trey, and the rest of the men closing on him. He stepped toward He Who Hunts, ignoring the arrivals even as their rifles came to life. Their bullets vaporized and did no damage, just like his.

  “You wanted the man who fought those monsters in Wyoming,” James shouted. “Here I fucking am, fucker.”

  He Who Hunts laughed and zoomed away and James charged after him.

  You don’t fucking get away, you bastard. If you want to leave, you better portal right now.

  The Council member tossed several more heat bolts behind him. They struck the armor, but James barely felt the hits. He Who Hunts kept ascending. After the fourth hit, he stopped attacking.

  James jumped and swung his blade but missed. The damned bastard was now straight-up flying. The creature rushed toward a nearby roller coaster, the bounty hunter stomping after him, growling and snarling.

  He Who Hunts stopped in front of the bottom track of the roller coaster near the loading zone but hovered thirty feet in the air. “You can’t win. You’re pathetic, Brownstone. You can’t protect anyone, not even a single lesser beast.” He floated up with a raspy chuckle as he headed toward the top of a nearby loop.

  Make me fly, James demanded.

  Not a viable adaptation, Whispy demanded. Implementing viable alternative.

  Pain shot through James’ legs, and he hissed. It passed a moment later, but even with the rage running through his mind, he understood what had happened.

  He bent down and jumped, flinging himself into the air. It might not have been flight, but he was rushing r
ight toward his target, one of his blades raised high.

  The Council member jerked to the side, and James missed, his blade slicing through a support beam instead.

  James fell to the ground, landing with a loud thud. He stood, turned, and sought his foe. The crack of gunshots filled the air as his friends continued their assault. A distant corner of his mind remembered they had anti-magic bullets, and he couldn’t understand why He Who Hunts wasn’t bleeding.

  The mist entity spun toward the bounty hunters and blasted several heat bolts their way, forcing them to scatter for cover. James took advantage of his distraction to leap again, this time getting closer to the enemy but still missing his flying foe. Jumping, even super-jumping, wasn’t a match for true flight.

  He crashed into a turn in the tracks, bending the metal. With a grunt, he stood, glaring at He Who Hunts

  “You fucking cockroach,” James screamed. “Stop running.”

  His amulet’s euphoria filled the back of his mind as he drank in his anger and hatred.

  He concentrated for a moment. Green light flowed and twisted over the blades, his energy cannons charging with a crackle and hiss. A few seconds later, he shot two blasts. The rays narrowly missed the quick-moving Council member, but they blew through a track on the other side, incinerating it.

  His friends stopped firing to watch in stunned silence but he ignored them, charging and firing again and again at the juking He Who Hunts. None of his blasts landed, but several carved through support beams or the tracks of the roller coaster, which now groaned and shuddered under its weight.

  Warning, Whispy Doom reported, some of his euphoria fading, power level may be insufficient for continued energy attacks.

  You wanted me pissed and angry. Now I fucking am. I’ll shoot as much as I fucking want.

  James leapt to the highest point on the tracks, taking another shot while he was in the air, but his beams blasted into the ground, sending up a cloud of dirt and rock but still not wounding his enemy. He let out a loud growl.

  He Who Hunts cut to the side and zigzagged toward James, firing several bright red bolts. James hissed, ready to take the shots, realizing too late that his enemy wasn’t firing at him but at the support structures below him.

  The blasts vaporized the already weakened and strained structure, and the metal screeched and groaned before a loud crack echoed around James. The support beams snapped in succession, the entirety of the elevated tracks dropping. James stumbled, falling straight down without anywhere to push off. He tumbled to the ground, taking his last few seconds to fire another blast at He Who Hunts.

  This shit’s not gonna stop me.

  One of the rays nailed the creature’s side, an unearthly dissonant buzz filled the air, and a shower of green ichor rained from He Who Hunts’ wound. The Council member fell straight toward the ground.

  James’ mix of rage and satisfaction disappeared as he slammed into a pile of wood. Despite falling hundreds of feet and landing hard, he barely felt the impact. Whatever pain should have accompanied such an epic trip was blocked by his armor and his rage. He rolled onto his back just in time to be buried under a multi-ton shower of wood and steel.

  Darkness swallowed his vision and he thrashed, unable to move.

  No. I need to make sure he’s dead. No!

  James’ arms were pinned, and he grunted and strained to move them to no avail. He let out a loud growl and fired a single energy blast, clearing some of the rubble near his right arm. This allowed him to change his arm’s direction and shoot in front of him. Other rubble collapsed on top of him, but now a few rays of light cut through the darkness.

  Warning. Power levels may be insufficient for sustained energy attacks.

  Almost all the amulet’s euphoria had vanished.

  His rage-clouded mind ignored the amulet as he managed to get his arm pointing forward and fired another blast. Bits of metal and dirt rained down on him, but now he could clearly see his path to the surface. With a yell, he yanked out his other arm and began shoving and slicing obstacles on his way out of the remains of the rollercoaster.

  He needed to get to the target. He needed to kill the target. James emerged from the pile of rubble and looked around, seeking the wounded He Who Hunts.

  The Council member floated only a foot above a small pool of glowing green ichor, a semi-translucent dome surrounding him. A few smashed bullets in front of him proved the team had already tried to shoot him while James was digging himself out.

  “I’m going to fucking kill you,” James roared.

  At the edge of his vision, Shay was gesturing to the others to pull back. They did so, splitting their attention between James and his enemy.

  Three ribbons of solid crimson energy like tears in space itself appeared within the dome. Red mist began pouring out of the tears and flowing into He Who Hunts. He began to inflate, his body rapidly filling the dome, which vanished a second later. No more ichor dripped from his side, and soon he was gargantuan, an evil storm cloud, his terrible eyes like twin red suns. Dozens of misty tendrils now extended from the red mass.

  The Brownstone team opened fire again, but their bullets didn’t do any damage.

  James leapt away from his would-be grave and landed a few yards from his enemy. He let out a long, low growl. “Just fucking die already.”

  He Who Hunts let out a hollow laugh and a spinning red crystal appeared above him, wisps and arcs of energy surrounding and connecting to his tendrils.

  “It’s time, Brownstone,” He Who Hunts announced. “Now that you’ve finally reached a proper state, you will become a slave to chaos. You will become my tool.”

  “I will fucking rip you apart,” James howled. He snapped his arms up and prepared to fire again. At this range, there was no way he could miss something that large.

  A few seconds passed before he realized his mind was too quiet. Even when Whispy Doom wasn’t saying anything. The amulet’s feelings, particularly his bloodlust, were always there, seeping into James’ mind, but now there was nothing. His thoughts were as quiet as when he wasn’t bonded.

  Pain spiked through James’ head, and he shook it. The pain intensified, and he fell to his knees. The rage in his mind twisted in on itself in a loop, but his thoughts started blanking. He couldn’t remember who he was fighting or why.

  He Who Hunts floated closer. Energy arced from the red crystal into the armor. “You’ve not reached your true potential. I can taste it. You’ve not reached it by far. Crude. Weak, because of your pathetic mind. Your pathetic soul. I will wield you as the weapon you were meant to be.”

  Whispy? Can’t…think. Do…something. Where…am…I?

  No response.

  He Who Hunts glowed brighter. “You’re a dull blade, Brownstone. You will be sharpened, and I will use you to cut through the feeble lies of this planet. The false order. Rejoice! You are about to be repurposed into something far more useful.”

  His mind gone, James was distantly aware of Shay screaming and charging in, her tachi raised.

  What? Shay…no.

  “There’s only one person who gets to tell him what to do, you evil piece of cloud shit,” Shay shouted. “And that’s me.” She swung her sword into the mist. It sliced through, spilling ichor, the blade untouched.

  A tendril slammed into Shay, and a white field flashed around her. She flew back, slamming into the ground and rolling several times, her sword clattering away from her hand.

  NO!

  James bellowed a bone-shaking roar. The new anger blasted through his mind like a cleansing fire.

  Link reestablished, Whispy announced. Initiating thought filter. Extended advanced mode power-up achieved. Kill the enemy.

  James rushed toward He Who Hunts. A tendril whipped at him, and he slashed with his blade. The tendril burst into millions of tiny floating particles and a wave of green energy accompanied the hit, shooting right through the massive red cloud forming He Who Hunts’ body and showering James in his enemy’s glowing
ichor.

  He Who Hunts glowed brighter. Several heat bolts and spheres shot from the masses of tendrils and pelted James, but they didn’t do much more than scorch the armor.

  Near-maximum adaptation achieved against attack type, the amulet whispered. Enemy no longer useful. Kill enemy. Grow stronger. Achieve primary directive.

  James threw himself into the red mist, slashing and slicing, each movement summoning another energy blast. Huge chunks of the cloud blew off, holes appearing. A steady drift of red particles floated into the sky almost like red smoke. The green ichor continued to rain down, now forming glowing puddles. The red crystal remained floating above the pool.

  Kill, kill, kill, Whispy chanted.

  “I…may…die,” He Who Hunts rasped. “But…it…doesn’t…matter. You…will…become…He Who Destroys. I…sacrifice…myself…to…chaos.”

  Rage and hatred overtook James. He kept swinging his new energy blades, his body moving itself. Pure instinct maybe, or Whispy Doom controlling him directly—he didn’t know. Didn’t care. All he cared about was destroying the Council member before him. The thing that had hurt his dog. The thing that had dared wound his woman. James kept hacking for a good minute even after all the red mist was gone and only a sizzling pool of green ichor remained. The red crystal crackled with even more energy.

  He let out another roar and started stabbing the pool. It wasn’t good enough. The enemy hadn’t suffered enough. He would destroy him, erase every particle of the bastard that still existed.

  Kill, kill, kill. Yessssss. Yes. No. No. No. Warning. Thought filter failing. Initiat—

  Agony shot through James’ head, and he fell to his knees. Images of Father Thomas, Leeroy, Shay, and Alison dead flashed through his head like a horrific slideshow. He saw Shorty dead, then Trey and others, the darkness circling in his mind.

  A presence sank into his mind, whispering unintelligibly like his amulet had once done, but the words were cold, distant, and ancient. Wrong, like even hearing them seared his soul. A spinning vortex of red filled his imagination.