Sorry. The job is no longer available. Thank you for your interest.
He burst out laughing. “You snooze, you lose, I guess. Damn. Time to find something else special, then. Damn. I wanted to drain your bank account, random rich guy.”
James tugged on the knotted rope as Thomas barked and bit down on the other end. The dog yanked hard against his master’s playful grip.
“You want this, boy?” James rumbled. “Gonna have to pull harder than that. Show me you want it.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he retrieved it, keeping one hand on the rope.
James glanced down at the phone before bringing it to his ear and cradling it with his neck. “What’s up, Heather? Any luck?”
“I’ve been trying to track down your bounty. Been hitting a lot of his financial records and accounts, directly and indirectly.” Heather chuckled. “I have to say, the guy’s pretty good. Better than I expected. Good for him.”
“Meaning what?” James allowed more slack in the rope. Thomas’ tail wagged hard and thumped against the floor after he backed up and tightened the rope again.
“Meaning that your guy has set up a very clever trail to convince people that he’s in Mexico.” Heather blew out a breath. “But he isn’t in Mexico, I guarantee you that.”
James grunted and lowered the rope, his signal to Thomas the game was over. The dog barked a few times before circling and lying down.
“If he isn’t in Mexico, where the fuck is he?” James rumbled. “He’s not in fucking Canada, is he?”
The clack of Heather typing came over the line. “I can’t be a hundred percent sure, but in my experience, if you’re looking for someone who is trying very hard to point you somewhere else, you should look less for evidence and more for a suspicious lack of evidence.”
“And where is there a suspicious lack of evidence?” James stood. He sensed he’d need to head out soon. He’d worried that this bounty might take weeks, but a couple of days wasn’t so bad.
“San Diego,” Heather replied, triumph in her voice. She sighed. “But this is where it gets annoying.”
“What?” James grunted. “How?”
“Annoying for me, not for you. I was very impressed with the false trail, but he got sloppy at the end. I can tell you the exact hotel he’s staying at.” Heather sighed. “It’s fun to beat losers, but I prefer worthy adversaries.”
“Send the address to my phone,” James replied. “I’m gonna head out right away. This is a favor to Mack. Doesn’t need to be a worthy adversary for either you or me.”
He opened his closet and grabbed a shabby gray coat. He eyed his basement before deciding against it. This was a simple bag-and-tag of a level two. The hard part was finding Julius, and Heather had already done that.
Should have run to Mexico for real, dumbass.
James stepped toward the closet before stopping and turning toward the basement door again. “On second thought, might be helpful to grab a few things. Never know who I might run into.”
James stepped out of his truck into the parking lot of the seedy motel. He chuckled at the neon sign informing travelers the building was a nice M T L.
Algae had conquered the pool, making him wonder if some sort of Oriceran fish creature now lived in it.
Could make more sense to stay at a fancy place where they’ll be better about your privacy when you’re on the run. These fuckers always come to these seedy shitholes, and I always find them.
He frowned and wondered if he should bond his amulet before shaking his head and walking toward Julius Carver’s room. It was one thing to use Whispy when he was raiding a house filled with dozens of men, but he didn’t need an alien amulet to capture a single level-two bounty.
I have some pride.
James stopped in front of the door. The blinds were drawn, but he knocked and waited.
No one answered.
He rolled his eyes.
I hate it when they pretend to not fucking be there. How dumb do they think I am?
“I know you’re in there, Carver,” James rumbled. “And you might as well come with me, because if I can find you, someone else far less nice can find you too. Probably the worst thing I’ll do is break some bones, not rip out your soul like the Eyes.”
“Oh, shit,” came a voice from behind him.
James spun. A skinny, balding middle-aged man in a t-shirt and jeans stood there holding a bucket of ice. He stared at Brownstone.
“Hey, Julius.” James snorted. “Huh. Guess you really weren’t home.”
“Shit, shit, shit.” Julius dropped his bucket and pointed. “Why the fuck…how the hell?” He ran a hand over his close-cut hair. “You’re James Brownstone.”
“If you know that, then you know how this is gonna go.” James shrugged. “If you’re thinking some bullshit about how you’re gonna be the one who wins against me, that’s gonna end pretty painfully for you. Good news is it’s not a dead-or-alive bounty, and I hear the cops want to talk to you, so I can’t break your jaw or your hands. Might need those to type.” He grinned. “Can break your legs, though.”
Julius sprinted off.
James grunted and shook his head. “At least the fucker didn’t try to fight.”
He set off after the bounty but the man was damned fast, Julius’s fear all but giving him wings. A few feet of distance between the men grew to a few yards.
Shit’s always harder when you just can’t kill the guy.
James reached into his jacket and pulled out a sonic grenade. After a quick prime, the grenade arced through the air.
Julius turned around and yelled, then leapt to the side as the high-pitched whine of the grenade sounded. The bounty groaned, clutching his ears as he slammed to the ground.
Glad Shay convinced me how useful those fucking things are. Not as fun as beating a fucker down, but great in this kind of situation.
James marched over to the stunned man, shaking his head. “You know, if you would have just kept running, you might have been okay. I’m a bounty hunter, not a fucking baseball player.” He handcuffed Julius and patted him on the head. “All scraped up, and I didn’t even touch or shoot you. What a fucking dumbass.”
A few people lingered in the parking lot, taking pictures of James as he stuffed the handcuffed Julius in the back of his truck and secured his seatbelt.
“That’s fucking James Brownstone, man,” one long-haired man exclaimed. “In the flesh. Scourge of Harriken.”
“Shit,” replied the man next to him. He pointed at Julius. “That must have been a serious guy, maybe a wizard with the Council or some shit. Damn, we could have all died if Brownstone hadn’t shown up.”
James chuckled and turned his key. The truck roared to life.
I don’t know how people drive electrics. A truck should rumble when it starts. I wonder how long it will be before they ban my truck?
“You can’t do this,” Julius whined from the back. “I was fucking clear, Brownstone. I was clear. You’re taking me to my fucking execution.”
James grunted and backed up, the small crowd in the parking lot still standing around taking pictures. “I already told you, dumbass. If I found you, someone else could find you too. That’s why you pretended to be in Mexico, right? To throw off the Eyes? Well, it didn’t work. You were waiting to get your brain tossed.”
Julius sighed. “What are you planning to do with me?”
The F-350 joined the flow of traffic on the street.
“You’re a bounty, asshole, and I’m a bounty hunter. I’m taking you back to LA, where I’m turning your ass in for my reward.” James shrugged.
Julius groaned. “Why do you even care, Brownstone? I’m a level two. It’s all fucking hacking shit. I’m not worth it to you. I get it if one of your boys came after me, but you personally?”
“Sure, but you’re worth it to the police, the FBI, and the PDA.” James grunted. “Should have taken their protection offer. It would have saved us both time.”
“I’m not testifying against the Eyes.” Julius shook his head. “No fucking way. If I keep my nose clean and hide out I don’t have to suffer, but if he even thinks I’m going to talk to the police, he’ll come for me, and I’ll be wishing I was dead by the time he’s done with me. You don’t understand, Brownstone. He’s a monster. Not just some pointy-eared elf with cutesy magic or even fireballs. The things he gets off on…” He shuddered. “Please. I’m begging you, Brownstone. If you have any sort of mercy, you’ll let me go before the Eyes comes for me.”
James snorted. “If the Eyes is that bad, all the more reason for you to spill your fucking guts to the police so they can take him and all the pieces of shit propping him up down. Fuck, if they had a bounty on him, I’d go have a little chat with him myself. I’m really tired of hearing about this guy.”
He chuckled.
Wonder if that’s what criminals say about me.
Julius let out a crazed laugh. “You don’t get it. You can’t win against him. He’s beyond you. He’s beyond mortals.”
“What? A pussy who hides in some dark room so he can play at being the boogieman? Yeah, I’ve heard about him.” James snorted. “Even He Who Hunts, who was a crazy, weird motherfucker from who knows where, fought up close and personal. As far as I’ve heard, the Eyes has a bunch of guards. If he’s such a badass, why does he need guards?”
“He isn’t like anyone you’ve ever fought.” Julius shook his head. “I don’t think he’s totally even here all the time. In our reality, I mean. I think he’s like split between the worlds or dimensions or something, and when he touches you, it’s cold, like the cold of death.” He shuddered. “Maybe he’s come back from beyond the grave.”
James did a quick mirror check. Nothing unusual. He wasn’t worried, but there was always the off chance that hitmen working for the Eyes had been waiting for their opportunity. Julius wouldn’t do the police any good dead.
“So now he’s Death, huh?” The bounty hunter chuckled. “I’ve never kicked Death’s ass before. That might be fun.”
“You’re going to die, Brownstone,” Julius yelled. “But at least you’ll die quickly. Please. Just turn around. Fuck, take me to Mexico. Leave me on the other side of the border, and I’ll make my way down to Guatemala.”
James glanced over his shoulder. “Why not fly to Europe or somewhere?”
“You want me to get on a plane? He’ll knock the plane out of the sky.” Julius sighed. “The only reason he hasn’t tracked me down already is that I got my hands on a potion that conceals me from magic, but it’s not going to last forever. You’re leading me to my death, and you won’t help the cops.” He gasped. “I’ll cut you a deal. I can pay you a bunch more money; way more than the bounty.”
“I already told you this isn’t about the money.” James shrugged.
“I can…I can…I know! I can give you information on the Eyes’ operation. On a thumb drive or something. You let me go, and I’ll give you the information.” Julius’ breathing picked up. “Then your cop buddies can take him down.”
“Please.” James shook his head and snorted. “And how will I know it’s true? Nah. You need to be somewhere the cops can make you verify the shit you’re feeding them. We’re heading back to LA. Deal with it, Carver. Put on your big-boy underwear. If the Eyes is such an evil fucking freak, you shouldn’t have worked for him to begin with.”
“You’ve killed us both, you dumb bounty hunter meathead.” Julius slumped in his seat, then threw his back against the door, trying to pull the door open with his cuffed hands.
James laughed. “Yeah, superhacker can’t even beat child-locked doors. No wonder you’re afraid of your own shadow. If the Eyes wants a piece of me, he can fucking bring it. I’ll introduce him to the Harriken and the Council in Hell.”
7
A helpful sign informed James that his exit off I-5 was coming up in a few miles. Silence had ruled the drive back because he didn’t want to listen to podcasts with a prisoner in the back, even one who was handcuffed and all but ready to cry. Julius had given up begging for his release after twenty minutes, instead staring out the window with a forlorn look on his face as if resigned to his fate.
“It was a dumbass plan anyway,” James rumbled.
Julius kept looking out the window. “What?”
“Hiding forever. You really thought you could pull that shit off?” James grunted. “You should have just figured out a way to take out the asshole yourself. Trust me, I’ve taken down enough gangs and assholes like the Eyes. It’s always the same. Once the head guy dies, they’re too busy killing each other or trying to take over to worry about people like you. You’ll never be free until he’s dead or locked up in some ultramax.”
“I don’t know if anyone can even kill him,” Julius mumbled. “It’s like I said. I think he might be dead already.”
James took a moment to move his truck into the farthest right lane. “I’ve killed dead guys before. Shit, I killed a guy who could body swap, so I killed a guy who’d already been dead a few times.” He shrugged. “If something exists it can die—simple as that.”
“Maybe you could kill him.” Julius shook his head. “But I’m not you.”
“You’ll be in police custody soon. If that fucker kills a cop to get to you, AET will come and so will I. Then I’ll prove to you how he easily he can die.”
James frowned as his gaze snapped up to his rearview mirror and then his side mirror. The same two SUVs had been behind him for about thirty minutes and had followed him into the exit lane. That didn’t mean anything in and of itself, but they’d followed his earlier lane changes three times already.
Fuck. I should have known this shit wouldn’t be so easy. Stupid bounty. You should have just taken a grenade and thrown it at the Eyes and ended all this bullshit before it even started.
A hard turn off the exit took them past a gas station. James accelerated slightly. Getting in a fight around tanks filled with explosive fuel was a bad idea even by his loose standards of what constituted acceptable collateral damage.
The two SUVs kept on him. They passed a few cars and then one hit the gas hard, zooming past James while the other remained behind him.
He narrowed his eyes. “You should be glad you’re wearing your seatbelt.”
Julius craned his neck to the side. “What’s going on?”
“Trouble,” James rumbled.
The bounty groaned. “I knew it. It’s the Eyes. Fucking Brownstone. You’ve killed us both.”
James snorted. “A badass who can’t be killed has to drive around in an SUV?”
“Fine, it’s some of his guys—same difference. We’re both going to die.”
“So we went from the-Oriceran-who-can’t-be-killed to worrying about some fucking enforcers who can?” James shook his head. “You really need to grow a pair, and who the fuck knows? A lot of people don’t like me. It might just be random assholes who think they’re gonna get lucky.”
As if connected by a string, the back SUV zoomed forward, and the front vehicle slammed on its brakes. James grunted, tugged on the wheel, and hit the brakes, his tires screeching. The front of the F-350 clipped the front SUV with the sickening wrench of metal, then shuddered a few times and came to a halt.
“Fuck,” James growled and slammed his hand on the wheel. “Stay down if you want to live.”
Bullets pierced the back and side windows, spreading spiderwebbed cracks over the safety glass. Julius yelled. One of the tires blew, victim of a bullet.
James threw open his door and dropped out of the truck.
Another bullet ripped through the back of the driver’s seat and nicked the wheel. James yanked out his gun and rushed toward the back of the vehicle, taking several shots but keeping his head down.
His heart thundered, and he let out a low growl. They’d done the unforgivable: the fuckers hadn’t just dented his truck, they’d shot it up.
Bonding with Whispy would leave him vulnerable for a few seco
nds. He couldn’t risk it, but he did risk a brief glance around the back of the truck to ID the positions of the closest shooters. Several bullets flew by as he yanked his head back. The enemy continued pelting the truck with bullets.
The bullet storm ended, and James took his chance. He stood up and took four quick shots, introducing .45 bullets to the front passenger and driver of the two vehicles. A couple more men sat in the back of the vehicles.
The louder crack of a rifle sounded. A shot blasted through the back of the truck and grazed James’ arm. He hissed as blood soaked his shirt, the wound throbbing with each thump of his heart.
The gunfire stopped. James frowned, taking the opportunity to reload. He only had one more magazine in his coat and a single sonic grenade.
Should I try to bond to Whispy?
A bright flash blinded James, and a roar followed. Only a second passed before a fireball exploded on top of the truck, scorching the metal.
The bounty hunter jumped to the side as another fireball arced over the truck and struck where he’d been crouching. The flames licked his side.
His movement sent him clear of the back of the truck and he let loose, finishing off two of the men in the back of one of the SUVs. One of the men dropped a wand he’d been pointing out the window.
“Fucking asshole,” James shouted.
He hit the ground with his wounded shoulder and let out a grunt. The bounty hunter hopped to his feet, the burning rage coursing through him dulling the pain of his burns and wounds. His quick toss sent the sonic grenade toward the other vehicle.
The two killers inside threw open their doors and jumped out with yells.
Thought it was a frag grenade, dumbasses?
One of them men screamed with the whine of the grenade. James put three rounds into him and spun to finish off the second assassin, only to find him standing with a smug, satisfied look on his face, a wand in his hand, and the air shimmering in front of him.
The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3 Page 25
