The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files Collector's Set: Books 1-10: Urban Fantasy Shifter Series

by Craig Halloran

  “Do you have another pair?”

  “I always have another pair,” she said, handing them over.

  Smoke tied down AV’s legs, leaned back against the bed, and caught his breath.

  Winded herself, Sidney sat back on the steps and wiped her sleeve across her forehead. She then asked AV, “Is there anyone else on this boat we should know about?”

  “Do you see anyone else?” he said with a sneer. “It’s just me and a couple of soon-to-be dead people.”

  Smoke kicked him. “Where’s the captain?”

  “He jumped overboard.”

  “Really?” Smoke said, cocking his ear, “then who’s driving the boat?”

  The blaring sound of a boat horn ripped through the chill night air.

  Sidney’s eyes widened. She jumped to her feet, darted up the stairs, and raced up to the captain’s chair. A river barge was almost on top of them. She spun the wheel right and pumped down the throttle. The fore of the boat rose high, and the propellers sank the aft of the boat into the water. Sidney hung onto the wheel. The massive bulk of the barge cruised by with little more than a foot to spare.

  That was close.

  She throttled down the cruiser and watched the barge pass by.

  Too close.

  She scanned the black water. The barge’s wake beat against the hull. There was no sign of the captain—and she was certain the captain wasn’t any man at all. Cruising down the shoreline, she caught movement along the bank. A drenched figure lumbered out of the water, up the shore, and disappeared into the woods. A chill went through her.

  That’s wasn’t a man. I swear it!

  CHAPTER 23

  “Excellent job, Sid,” said Jack Dydeck. “Just excellent.” He paced the floor with his fingers locked behind his back. They were back at the house: Jack, Tommy Tohms, Sidney, Smoke, and a couple of other agents. AV sat cross-legged, head down, by the fireplace. “You erased a name on the Black Slate in one day?” He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. “I’m proud of you, Sid.”

  “There’s really no need. It’s my job, and I can’t take all the credit.” She nodded at Smoke. “He helped.”

  Smoke sat quietly on the sofa, eyes intent on AV. He hadn’t said much of anything since they journeyed back from the Potomac and Jack and his men picked them up.

  “I’m sure he did,” Jack said. “We’ll be sure to send him some new books to read back in prison.”

  “Wait,” Sidney said, “I thought we had two weeks?”

  “Sure, to get Mister Vaughn here. That’s all over now.”

  “Hold on.” Sidney was not hiding the irritation in her voice. “There are reports. Interrogations. Investigations of his operations. The list goes on. I want to be thorough.”

  “We’ll handle that, Sid. You go get some rest and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “No, I’ll handle it.”

  Jack offered a smile. “Tomorrow. Back in the office. Around noon. We’ll await Mister Vaughn’s caretakers.” His tone became stern. “You look exhausted, Sid. We can stitch up this mess tomorrow. Go.”

  “What about him?” She looked at Smoke.

  Jack sighed.

  “Tell you what: seeing how the two of you caught headquarters with their pants down, well,” he scratched his head, “they aren’t sure what the next step is. I’m waiting on their call to advise me on what to do with Mister Smoke, so the two of you head up the road and grab a bite to eat. I’ll call you back after Mister Vaughn is picked up. We’ll take it from there. Fair enough?”

  “I’d rather stay,” Smoke said. His eyes were still glued on AV.

  “I don’t care.” Jack glowered at him. “You can go eat or sit here handcuffed.”

  “Come on,” Sidney said to Smoke. “Let’s go.”

  Slowly, Smoke rose from the sofa and headed out the door. Sidney was one half-step behind.

  “Give us a couple of hours, Sid,” Jack said. “I should have it all wrapped up by then.”

  “All right,” she said, glancing down at AV.

  His eyes fastened on hers. “Soon, Pretty. Soon.”

  Goosebumps rose on her arms. She tore her gaze away and went back outside. She was short of breath.

  “You okay?” Smoke said.

  She swallowed and took a breath. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  ***

  “You’ve been awfully quiet,” Sidney said to Smoke. They were sitting in a truck stop restaurant almost ten miles up the road from the house. Smoke’s burger and fries were getting cold. “Did you lose your appetite?”

  “Tell me about that captain again.”

  “I don’t know.” She covered her yawn. “It was dark. I’ve been tired.” She took a sip of coffee. “His face was clammy. Veiny. Like a, well, I don’t know.”

  “Like a zombie?”

  “I wouldn’t take it that far.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Zombies don’t drive boats. It might have been sick from something.”

  “You said it again.”

  “Him. It. It was ugly. Ugh. He was ugly. Just let it go.”

  “But you said you shot him. Hit his leg. But didn’t slow him.”

  “Adrenaline.”

  “You said he walked up the shore and disappeared.”

  “It might have been someone else. It was too far to see.”

  “I don’t think anyone else would have been swimming in the Potomac.” Smoke pushed his plate aside, scooted back into the booth, and stretched his legs out.

  “Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you.”

  Smoke closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

  He’s getting weird on me.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I have a confession.” His eyes were still closed.

  Oh great. Please don’t give me some sappy story about the last time you ate Pop-tarts with your sister.

  “Great. There’s a Catholic steeple down the street.”

  “I’m worried.” He opened his eyes and looked worried.

  “So?”

  “I don’t get worried.”

  “Well, I guess you’re just one of us now.”

  “AV. He’s not normal.”

  “No, most criminals aren’t. What’s the matter? Are you afraid he won’t be a good cell mate?”

  Smoke raised his eyebrows at her.

  “Sorry. That was uncalled for.” She leaned forward. “It’s been a really long day.”

  “Agent Shaw, did you get a good look when AV jumped off the balcony?”

  “I was there.”

  “Well, so was I. There aren’t many people aside from Olympic athletes who can jump that far in a single bound.” He sat up. “He made a mistake and ran for the boat, thinking the bodyguards would stop us. If he had run into the city, we never would have caught him.”

  “So he’s fast.”

  “And strong.” Smoke narrowed his eyes at her. “I have a hundred pounds on him. It took all I had to wrestle him down.”

  “He’s in shape. Adrenaline. Maybe he’s on something. That wouldn’t be a first. My father told me he saw a man on PCP burst out of his handcuffs once.”

  “No,” Smoke said in a hushed voice, “I’m telling you, he’s not normal. Just like that captain isn’t normal.”

  “Don’t overthink it.” She finished off her coffee and checked her phone. No messages from Jack yet, and it had been two hours. She yawned. “I wonder why this is taking so long.”

  Smoke started to ease himself out of the booth. “I say we head back.” His eyes were restless. “I have a bad feeling.”

  Can’t disagree there. But I’m not going to let him spook me either.

  “Sure, why not.” Sid fetched some bills out of her bag. “Do you want a doggie bag?”

  “What?”

  She dropped the money on the table. “Lighten up a little, will you?”

  ***

  Driving down the road, Sid couldn’t shake the butterflies from her stomach. Smoke was uncomfortable. It made her u
ncomfortable.

  What is his deal?

  She’d texted Dydeck before they left and hadn’t heard back. Jack was always quick to reply. Ahead, the half-moon shone brightly behind the rising mist of the late evening. She barreled down the exit ramp, merged onto the highway, cruised a few more miles down the road, and turned into Benson Estates.

  A pack of dogs darted across the road. Sidney slammed on the brakes. Her heart was jumping.

  “Whoa.” Smoke leaned forward in his seat. “Were those coyotes?”

  “Coyotes aren’t that big,” Sidney said, peering into the night. The pack had vanished behind the houses. “Those were wolves.”

  “Like timber wolves? I don’t know about that. But they were big. Shepherds, maybe.”

  “Wolves, trust me. I’m pretty familiar with the breeds of dogs.” She let off the brake pedal and eased on up the road. It was the second time she’d seen them in a day.

  “Care to fill me in?”

  “No.”

  “So, you used to be a veterinarian?”

  She didn’t reply.

  “Really? Is it that hard to share the smallest detail of any of your history?”

  “No. I’m just staying focused right now.” Driving slowly, she surveyed between the houses they passed. “Just keeping it professional.”

  “I agree, but I think you should work on tuning up your social skills.”

  After a long pause, Sidney said, “I was a K-9 cop in the Air Force.”

  “Oh.” Smoke nodded. He sniffed the air. “Funny, you don’t smell like a canine cop. They usually have a scent about them.”

  “I’m not one now, obviously.”

  “Just a little humor, Agent Shaw. Take it easy.”

  She almost cracked a smile as she pulled the car alongside the curb of the house. The two black SUVs were still in the driveway.

  Unbuckling his belt and getting out of the car, Smoke said, “It doesn’t look like anyone else has shown up.” He headed for the front door. Sidney followed in step behind him. The lights were on inside. The front door was wide open. No sounds came from within. “That’s weird.”

  “Sure is,” she said, drawing her weapon.

  Smoke stopped at the threshold. His arms fanned out, shielding her.

  “Wait.”

  Sidney’s body tingled with tiny fires. She slipped underneath Smoke’s arm and stepped inside. Blood dripped from the fireplace mantle. The stench of death was thick. She gasped.

  CHAPTER 24

  Sidney stumbled back into Smoke, mumbling, “No … no.”

  Blood pooled on the floor. Splattered on the walls. Two agents lay in mangled heaps of flesh. A man was disemboweled, his frozen gaze fixed on the hearth. It was Tommy Tohms. A woman lay with her elbow and neck snapped. The third agent sat on the sofa, coated in blood. His head was missing. Twisted clean off.

  Sidney swallowed hard and choked out a cry when she saw the head lying on the fireplace grate. It was Dydeck.

  She started shaking. This was inhuman. Uncanny. She dropped her weapon. Her knees sagged.

  Smoke caught her. “Let’s get you to the car.”

  “No.” She gasped, wiped the tears from her eyes, reached down to pick up her weapon, and took a deep breath. “I can handle this.”

  “This is madness. Not a lot of people can handle madness.”

  Sidney took another deep breath and straightened herself. “Not a lot of people can handle me mad either. Let’s get to the bottom of this.”

  AV was gone. Sidney noticed the busted flex cuffs on the floor.

  Smoke was squatted down, eyeballing them. “These weren’t cut, they were torn,” he said, covering his nose. “Whew … Death stinks.”

  Sidney held her stomach.

  Don’t puke. Don’t puke.

  Blood coated the walls in the living room. It dripped from the ceiling. It looked like a Cuisinart had ripped through the agents in the room.

  “What could have done this?” she asked herself.

  “These are claw marks. A wild pack of canines perhaps.”

  “Dogs wouldn’t do this.”

  She studied Dydeck’s headless corpse. She’d lost a few friends in the field, but none that she knew well. Her heart ached. Dydeck had a wife and three children.

  Lord, no. Lord, no. This can’t happen. Not like this. Not to Dydeck.

  He was hard-nosed. Not always right. But she liked him. She liked him a lot.

  Dydeck still had his weapon in hand. It had been discharged. She turned. The same with Tommy Tohms.

  “Do you see any bullet holes?” She pulled some latex gloves from her inside pocket and checked the cartridge on Dydeck’s weapon. It was empty.

  He couldn’t have missed. Not at this close a range.

  “Two in the wall over here,” Smoke said, fingering the holes, “and one nick in the mantle.”

  “There should be more,” Sidney said, brushing the hair from her eyes. “This magazine is empty.”

  “I don’t see anything else,” Smoke said. “They must have filled something with lead.”

  Sidney noticed a pair of holes on the blood-stained floor.

  “Here’s another. Geez.” She took out her phone and dialed headquarters. It wasn’t her first instinct, but it was protocol. She wanted to call Ted, her old boss. A woman’s voice answered.

  “This is Agent Sidney Shaw—”

  She heard the squeal of brakes and pushed the blinds up.

  “Hold on.”

  An unmarked black van had pulled into the driveway. Four men in FBI jackets came out and slammed the doors shut.

  One of them was Cyrus. “Agents down. More agents arriving on scene at 241 Benson Estates. Send forensic team and homicide.” Cyrus spilled in the doorway and stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened and his face turned ashen. “What the hell?” He jerked out his weapon and pointed it at Smoke. “Freeze!”

  Smoke raised his arms over his head.

  “Cyrus.” Sidney cut in between the two men. “They were dead when we got here. Lower your weapon.”

  Three other agents poured into the room with their weapons drawn.

  “Did you clear the house?” Cyrus said.

  “Not yet, I just got—”

  “Secure the house,” Cyrus ordered his men. “Now! You,” he said to Smoke. “Don’t move.” He grabbed one of the agents by the sleeve and said, “Cuff him.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Sidney objected. “He’s done nothing wrong.”

  Smoke’s arms were jerked behind his back and he was shackled. “Don’t forget to double-lock them,” he said.

  “Stay with him,” Cyrus said to the other agents. He looked at Sidney. “You, come with me.” His eyes drifted toward the fireplace. He blinked and leaned in. “Is that … Dydeck?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Cyrus, I just arrived a few minutes before you. How come the transport was late? It should have been here over an hour ago to take Adam Vaughn away.”

  “Sir,” one of the agents said, coming from downstairs. “We have another agent down, but she’s breathing. The rest of the home is secure.”

  “Call an ambulance,” Cyrus said, rushing down the hall and down the steps.

  Sidney was right on his heels. At the bottom of the stairs a woman in an FBI vest lay still. Sidney swallowed. The agent—a short-haired black lady—was crumpled up in a heap.

  “Back broken,” said one of the agents, a short wiry man with a mustache. He shook his head. “Probably from the fall. A bad spill.” He patted her leg. “Hang on, honey. Hang on.”

  “Don’t touch her,” Cyrus said, kneeling by the woman’s side. “Wait for the ambulance to arrive.”

  “She didn’t fall,” Sidney said, gazing at the stairwell. There was a large indentation in the drywall. “She was thrown.”

  Cyrus stood up, glanced up the stairwell, and said, “That’s not possible.” He eyed the spot. “Maybe it was already there.”

  “I don’t think so,” Sidney said.


  “Well, I don’t care what you think, Agent Shaw.” Cyrus’s forehead started to bead with sweat. “Forensics will decide that. You need to decide how to explain all this.”

  “Me?”

  He got in her face. “Yes, you!”

  “Hey, Cyrus,” the short agent said, “look at this.”

  Cyrus took out a pair of glasses and put them on. “What is it?”

  “She has something in her hand,” the agent said. “It looks like hair.”

  Sidney leaned in. The hair was long, dark brown, and very coarse. Cyrus scooted over and blocked her view. She said, “Do you mind?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” He rose up, stood in front of her, and pointed up the stairs. “Go.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m the senior agent on the scene,” he said. “And you are going.”

  “Going where?”

  “Going home.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Whap! Whap! Whap!

  Sidney laid into the heavy bag that hung in the gym.

  Whap! Whap!

  Sweat dripped from her brow.

  Whap!

  Chest heaving inside her Under-Armor hoodie, she walked over to a nearby bench and twisted the cap off her bottled water. It was Saturday, two days after the massacre at Benson Estates. She’d spent all day Friday doing paperwork, and she hadn’t heard a word about the case since. Cyrus didn’t return her texts. He’d iced her. She finished off her water, crushed the bottle, and tossed it in a can. Damn him.

  The gym had a little bit of everything going on and was fairly busy for a Saturday. Men and women pushed weighted sleds. Cross trainers pushed their clients to the limits. Sweating bodies churned on treadmills and elliptical machines lined up row-by-row in front of the wall-mounted television. The entire gym smelled like sweat, and the music playing gave it energy.

  She ripped a sidekick into the bag. Launched another and another.

  A man walking by stopped and watched. He was a little shorter than her, red-faced, and all muscle in a little T-shirt. Tattoos of daggers and snakes decorated his shoulders. He nodded and smiled. “You really know how to work that bag. Impressive.”