by K. N. Banet
“What is it?” I demanded once Paden shut the door.
“A new bounty. Ten million U.S. dollars.”
My eyebrows went up. “That’s serious money.”
“It is, and has gotten everyone’s attention because it’s probably going to be easy, but it’s also going to get a lot of them in trouble.” Paden seemed uncomfortable as he picked up the printout for the bounty.
We all recognized the deep yellow parchment that bounties were printed on, one of the few things consistent in the world of supernaturals. There was a simple system. A bounty was put out publicly, giving any of us a chance to go for it. It guaranteed the backer would get the best work, and there was a competitiveness that was normally friendly. There were only two stipulations for bounties, two very simple rules.
“Why?” I had a sneaking suspicion this wasn’t a normal bounty.
“It’s for a human,” Paden answered.
“Oh. Well, that’s bad,” I mumbled, taking the bounty from his hands. Reading it over, I shook my head. “Idiots. There are two rules for the bounty hunting world. No humans and no killing. Bounty hunters have to take people in alive and let whoever put out the bounty deal with it. This breaks one of those rules.” I put it back down on his desk and shrugged. “It happens all the time, though, Paden. Why does this one bother you?” I didn’t take bounties on humans, considering it was a conflict of interest. Anyone else was fair game, but it left me confused why Paden showed me this one.
“I did a little background on the guy like I do when any human comes through. He was in college and set to join the human military once he graduated. That was ten years ago, over in New Mexico. The bounty came out seven days ago.”
“What happened in those ten years?” I asked, looking at the name on the bounty. Raphael Alvarez—who had he pissed off?
“No idea. He didn’t exist.”
That made me look back up at Paden, frowning.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. They put out a bounty on a ghost. No one has seen or heard of him in ten years, and his name doesn’t come up in any records across the United States, Canada, or Mexico. I know you hate bounties on humans and won’t do them, but I want you to look into this one. It seems off. There’s more to this story than someone looking for a human who might expose supernatural secrets.”
I sighed, giving Paden a look that would normally put the fear of the gods into someone. He just met my stare evenly.
“I’m an Executioner, not an Investigator or a human detective, Paden. The Tribunal has people for that—”
“But you’re here, and I know you. I’m just asking you to look into this. You don’t need to catch him and take him in yourself, just look into it. I don’t like that this brought a truckload of new people to Phoenix to hunt him down.”
“Has anyone gotten any leads?” Paden heard things, and if he wanted me to look into this when I had just gotten back from a business trip, he needed a damn good reason and needed to tell me everything he knew.
“Not yet. A lot of people bitching how they came to Phoenix, expecting to find something, but it’s a cold trail.”
“I’ll look into it, Paden, but you owe me big for this one. I mean it. This is one I’m holding you to.” I picked up the bounty and folded it quickly, sliding it into my back pocket. “Let me have a drink and settle in. I’m not going to make this a priority. I do have a life.”
“Still dating that Tribunal Agent?” he asked casually, an obvious change of subject.
“Cassius? No, we ended that five years ago. I never told you?” Frowning, I looked at Paden in confusion.
“You still hook up with him,” Paden pointed out. “When he comes through town.”
“And? The last time he came through town was three years ago.” I shrugged. “Last I heard, he was flirting with a possible engagement to some fae Lady, politics and shit. I knew Cassius wasn’t a forever thing, Paden. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”
Cassius was a good fuck and an afterthought in my life most of the time. Another one of the string of men I had been with in an effort not to deal with the problems only I could have.
“True. You were both pretty mean to each other.”
“I’m mean to most people,” I reminded him, smiling. “Now, I’m going to get a drink and kick my feet up. The business trip was a bust.”
“Yeah, I heard about what happened. They didn’t need you or the Kitsune in the end, did they? Also, strange of them to call two Executioners to a Trial. Thought protocol was only one.”
“It was a werecat. There was a chance she could have killed an Executioner before the job was done, so a backup had to be around,” I explained, starting to walk out of the office. Werecats were powerful and not to be toyed with. Everyone knew it, and most of us respected it. I only knew two personally and sitting in a meeting with either always made me a little jumpy. “Hasan popped his head out of whatever hole he’s been hiding in and put a stop to it. Some stupid loophole that needed to be closed, a small change in Laws. Considering he was one of the original writers, I don’t think anyone was in the mood to give him a real fight over it.”
“Hasan, eh? Old werecat and one of your bosses, right?”
“Yup. One of the two Tribunal werecats,” I said as we entered the main area of the Underground again. “He’s never taken an active role with the Executioners, though. He was long gone by the time I joined up, off to sulk about his daughter dying. If I remember right, my parents knew him, at least in passing.”
“You know many interesting people, Kaliya.” Paden chuckled as we made our way to the bar.
“And yet, I find you my favorite,” I said with a smile. “Now, get me a scotch,” I ordered as he went behind the bar and tapped his bartender on the shoulder. Henley looked up from his phone and rolled his eyes when Paden pointed at the cell.
“One scotch, coming right up,” Henley said. He was one of two werewolves who worked in the predominantly fae run bar. “I was just reading about that werecat thing. The Tribunal Trial you were just at. My Alpha put out an email about it.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I said patiently as he poured me a drink.
“It’s not,” he agreed. “I remember the war my kind had with them. Luckily, I was in the Americas already and could stay well out of it. Stupid fools. Only good thing that came of it was the Laws.”
I nodded. I hadn’t been born yet, but I knew my supernatural history. Before the werewolf-werecat war about eight hundred years ago, there had been no governing force over supernaturals. Deciding it was a bad idea to let every species of supernatural do whatever they wanted, a group got together, brokered peace, and created the Laws. The Tribunal, that original group, ruled over everyone, enforcing the Law.
“My Alpha is taking it as a big deal,” Henley mumbled, shaking his head as he slid the drink to me. “We’ll see how it goes. Not that you care,” he said, looking up at me.
“Not that I care,” I agreed, lifting my drink.
I sipped on it slowly as the Underground moved around me, different patrons coming up to order another round. No one spoke to me, keeping their eyes off me. Generally, when I disappeared for a few weeks, I came back with another name on my list of confirmed kills. It made the local lowlifes a little edgy for a couple of weeks. A stark reminder of who and what I was. I was the only sanctioned killer in the bar, the only one in Phoenix. Hell, I was the only one in the state of Arizona. Were there assassins out there working illegally? Certainly, but I could kill anyone and walk away without facing retribution in a way they couldn’t.
I worked hard to become someone that couldn’t be trifled with, and in my home state, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know me or my reputation.
“Paden, Deacon said there were some new faces,” I mentioned after a moment. “Any I should worry about?”
“Not yet, but a ten-million-dollar bounty and a cold case tend to bring out the best in everyone,” he answered, looking around the Underground.
“I made sure none of the new faces here tonight would be a problem for you or you a problem for them.”
I nodded in thanks. That much I knew, but he was right. Even if I didn’t get involved in this weird bounty, there was a chance I was going to be an Executioner before it was over. Paden tried his best to keep me and his other clientele satisfied, but most bounty hunters were also criminals. They ignored human crimes. The supernatural and the Tribunal didn’t care if one robbed a human bank as long as it wasn’t in a way that could expose everyone. They didn’t care if someone mugged a little old lady or committed fraud. Well, we all committed fraud on a regular basis, trying to hide our fortunes, so we could survive for another century.
Bounty hunters also had some legitimate criminals, ones I had to worry about. If one of the Wanted List showed up, I was required to take them down- capture or kill, it didn’t matter.
I finished my drink and picked up my bag. Paden slid my keys across the bar, knowing it was time for me to go.
“Paden, if I learn anything interesting, I’ll give you a call or stop by,” I promised as I grabbed my keys.
“I’ll email you what I found. You might be able to dig deeper than I could.”
I headed back upstairs and went to find my Aston Martin Vantage out in the parking lot. Getting in, I sighed happily and pulled the bounty out of my back pocket, throwing it onto the passenger’s seat with my bag.
It was good to be home.
2
Chapter Two
I drove well out of Phoenix to get home. Off Eagle Eye Road, west of the city, there were several dirt roads. One of them was mine. I lived in the shadow of Harquahala Mountain, on a desert property that kept neighbors from moving too close. I enjoyed the desert, and it was safer to live outside the city, being what I was.
I got home in the pitch black of night, my headlights my only source of light, grabbing my bag from the passenger’s seat as the garage door closed behind me.
“Honey, I’m home,” I greeted the empty house sarcastically. No one answered. No one ever did since I lived alone and had for most of my adult life.
Maybe I should have stayed at my condo in the city tonight.
I dumped my bag on my dining room table and got to my chores, the same things I worked on every time I came home. Going into my office, I made my way to a small fridge and freezer, grabbing the pair of tongs off the top. I used them to grab a thawed dead rat and took it to the large enclosure behind my desk on the wall opposite the door.
There were three feeding spots in the enclosure, small spots that only fit the rat and tongs, and needed to be locked up when I was done. I picked the one closest to me and wiggled the thawed rat.
With a lightning fast move, the female Indian cobra inside the habitat struck the dead rat and took it from me. I watched her massage her fangs into the flesh and smiled.
“Good, Naksha. Maybe you can go home soon now that you’re eating properly.”
About six months before my little business trip, I had taken her on, sick and weak. The vampire who owned her didn’t know what was wrong, and neither did the vets he coerced into seeing her. I was his last hope, and I was grateful he brought her to me. Snakes were something of a specialty for me. I got her well again, and now we were just waiting for upgrades at her permanent home to be done.
“Hopefully, his new habitat for you is done soon. You’ll enjoy having more space.”
I didn’t know why I talked to her. She couldn’t understand. Normally, there weren’t any snakes in the habitat except me, so maybe I was just grateful for the company.
Maybe I just like talking to snakes. I should see someone about that. A therapist or maybe a zookeeper.
With Naksha eating for the first time in over two weeks, I was glad to see my new habitat system had worked well for the trip. I recently installed a state-of-the-art camera system that let me remote view her, a new filtration system for her running water feature, and a remote temperature control that also controlled the intensity of her heat lamps. I had been hoping it saved me from needing someone to check on her while I was away. I didn’t like having people in my home while I wasn’t around. Truthfully, I hated it. As long as there were no emergencies, I didn’t want anyone near her or in my space.
In the end, it all worked out, so that’s one less worry.
I went back into the living room and dining area, letting Naksha enjoy her meal in peace. My house was large, but no mansion—one story, four bedrooms, two of them converted into workspaces, a large living room, a dining room, and a kitchen. It was all I needed. I had a second building, but it was only a gym. I didn’t want to live with my equipment.
I grabbed my bag off the table and started pulling everything out of it. First, clothing I dumped into a nearby hamper so I could make sure to wash it. Then came tools of my trade. I only needed one bag, but I had to fly commercial like all the humans. I spent a pretty penny, making sure my one bag could carry everything I needed without getting me arrested. The front pouch was spelled. I opened it and reached my hand in, going nearly to the elbow. I sometimes wished I hadn’t gotten it spelled to be so deep, but as long as security missed it, I knew I shouldn’t complain.
I pulled out a variety of weapons. The sai were my standard defensive weapons of choice, and I placed them gently onto the table. Next, I carefully pulled out my shuriken, especially careful with the edges, even when they were in their carrying case. Nearly everything I owned was treated with poison, generally my own venom. While it couldn’t kill me, it would cause some unwanted side effects I wasn’t in the mood to deal with.
Trying to dismiss the idea of accidentally hitting myself with my own venom, I grabbed the two guns I kept in the bag, a Beretta M9 and an M4 carbine. I laid each gently on the table, wondering why I forgot to put them in their carrying case.
Oh, yeah. I was attending a Trial. I needed them ready to go at any moment.
I unloaded them and broke them down, readying them for cleaning.
Next came the weapons I was raised to use since birth, owned by my family for centuries. I used these when I was feeling particularly nasty or sentimental. The kirpan seemed like an ornate dagger for ceremonial purposes, but I knew how to kill someone a thousand times over with it. The talwar was a saber my father taught me to use. Two pieces of home I rarely used anymore, but I hauled them around for when the mood struck me.
“I carry too much shit,” I mumbled, beginning the long process of cleaning everything and putting them away. It would take me most of the night, but I didn’t let that dissuade me. There was plenty of time to relax now that I was back in Phoenix. I cleaned off my venom from the blades, rendering them just sharp steel again. I put everything away in different display cases around my house. The dagger, I tucked under my pillow, always ready to protect me.
Just in case.
I yawned and checked the time, groaning as I saw it was past one in the morning. I wasn’t tired enough to sleep and realized I was probably going to pull an all-nighter. Feeling restless, I went onto my back porch, looking out over the desert that surrounded my home. The night was eerily quiet, and the stars dazzled overheard. I could see the fuzzy outline of cacti on the horizon, and Harquahala Mountain loomed over me. My actual address said I lived in a town called Aguila, but I always pointed people to the mountain and said, ‘there.’
It was a hot night, over eighty. The dry heat made me feel rejuvenated, waking me up and giving me a dose of energy that had been missing while I was inside my carefully temperature-controlled home.
As I stood out there, I remembered Paden’s request and resigned myself to dealing with it. I checked my back pocket for the bounty and mumbled incoherently as I realized it was probably still in my car. I went inside the garage, grabbed it and my laptop, then went back onto my porch, setting up to work under the stars. I wasn’t in the mood for cloistered, constricted rooms. Working under the stars was one of my favorite things to do, especially during the end of a hot summer. Winter was
going to come soon, and I was going to be slow on my feet. I had to enjoy the heat while it lasted.
“Who are you?” I mumbled, looking over the bounty as my laptop connected to the internet. “Raphael Dominic Alvarez. Who are you?”
Starting simple, I went with a web search, looking for any reference of this Raphael Dominic Alvarez. The picture was old, that much was clear as I looked through different hits. If he’s been missing for ten years, it had to be a picture of when he was younger. He looked like he was in his early twenties.
I grew bored quickly and reread the bounty. It was put out by Mygi Pharmaceuticals. Strange since they were a supernatural pharma company, dealing in ways to help different species control difficult aspects of their lives. They were the lead researchers behind medication to potentially curb a vampire’s bloodlust permanently. They also tried to develop drugs and remedies for werewolves and werecats, giving them a break from their curse.
Frowning, I was beginning to see what Paden meant. There was no way the guy in the photo was old enough to be a problem for Mygi. They were a powerhouse of a corporation and one of the few companies on the planet that successfully brought different species of supernaturals together to work on a large scale.
Someone like Mr. Alvarez stood no chance against a company like Mygi. Why would a human be worth a ten-million-dollar bounty?
I kept clicking through search results, and it took nearly forty pages to find something interesting. The headline read 6 People Dead: Military Involvement?
Wow. Paden said something about this guy almost joining one of the human militaries. Maybe…
I clicked it and hit a small jackpot. The face I was looking for was right there in a buried, old article dated just under ten years prior. In 2009, Raphael Dominic Alvarez was partying with his friends, graduation right around the corner. Come morning, someone went to check on the party animals and found six young men and women dead. Raphael was long gone.
