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

Page 22

by Craig Halloran


  Sam slid the picture over and stared at it. “She’s a true beauty. Look at those cheekbones. I’ll do a search and see if I can find anything on her. But I’m sure there’s a thousand Angi Harlows in the system.”

  “Think it will get flagged?” Sid said, fanning herself with the Bureau letter. “We need to be careful.”

  “I’m careful,” Sam said, typing.

  “What’s this?” Smoke said, snatching the letter from Sidney’s hand.

  “Hey!”

  He took the letter out, held it high over his head, and started reading it out loud. “‘Agent Shaw, due to the unorthodox arrangement of this assignment, you will need to keep the following items under consideration.’ Interesting. ‘John Smoke,’ that’s me, ‘is a convicted criminal with special skills.’” He made a quirky face. “‘Don’t underestimate him.’ Which you already have. Several times.” He changed his voice to something dark and hoarse. “‘He’s dangerous,’ like Batman. ‘Unpredictable,’ like Miley Cyrus. ‘Possible flight risk,’ like DB Cooper.” His voice changed back. “‘You have eyes on him and we have eyes on him.’” He glanced around with widened eyes and shrugged. “‘Allow him free range.’” He stopped and looked at Sid. “Allow him free range.” He wagged his finger at her. “It seems you’re not being completely honest about things either. Shame. Shame.” He continued. “‘We’ll let you know if he needs reeling in.’ Blah, blah, ‘alien objects,’ blah blah, ‘notify your superiors. Seek Mal Carlson … for assistance when needed.’ That’s new. ‘Shadow cover authorized.’ That’s cool.” He switched back to his Dark Knight voice. “Trust your instincts and good hunting. The Bureau.” He handed her back the letter. “Sooner or later, you’re going to have to figure out who you’re going to trust: us or the Bureau. I’ll be back. I have to brush my teeth. I have a foul taste in my mouth for some reason.”

  Sidney shrank in her chair as he walked away. She swore his cheeks had reddened. “I bet I seem like a real ass, don’t I?”

  Sam kept up at the keyboard while Guppy poured a mug of coffee. He walked it over to her. It was a white mug with a dragon and sword logo on it.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said. “And don’t worry. He’s only a little mad. He’ll get over it.”

  “I’ve got nothing on Mal Carlson, but I’ve found a few good Angi’s,” Sam said. “I’ll see if I can tie any of it in to Drake.” She shook her head as she talked. “Drake has a plethora of subsidiaries. They’re as bad as government pork barrel companies.”

  Glimpsing through the remains of the file, Sidney noticed a tattoo on a dead man’s arm. “Look for anything with a black sun incorporated into it. That might help.”

  “Sure,” Sam replied.

  The bathroom door popped open. Smoke appeared in a black T-shirt and jeans. His dark brown hair was still damp but combed back. He made his way over to the kitchen counter, where Guppy had him a mug of coffee ready. “Did you bring the kit?”

  “It’s in the car,” said Guppy. “I’ll fetch it.” He headed outside and returned shortly with a red medical kit in his hands. He opened it up and took out a packet with a syringe. Then he cleaned off the inside of Smoke’s elbow with alcohol and a cotton swab.

  “What’s going on here?” Sidney said, getting up out of her chair.

  “We’re checking to make sure that I’m not a werewolf,” Smoke said. “We have to send the bloodwork to Transylvania Labcorp.”

  “Ha ha,” she laughed. “No really, what’s going on?”

  “Okay, since you seem genuinely concerned, we’re testing my blood to see what your boyfriend Cyrus injected into me months ago.”

  Sidney had forgotten about that until Smoke brought it up again in the elevator. It was pretty clear that it agitated him. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Sorry, I meant ex-fiancé.”

  Sam wheeled around in her chair. “You were engaged? When did this happen?”

  She shot a look at Smoke. His playful smile was showing. “I wasn’t engaged.” She shook her chin at him. “I said no.”

  “Oh,” Sam said, turning back around. Her fingers became a blur on the keyboard, “Cyrus Tweel. Let’s get a better look at you.”

  “What? Wait, what are you doing?” Sidney said. Pictures of Cyrus suddenly picked up on the monitors. Morning glory!

  “Ew, you were engaged to this creepy little guy?” Sam said with her head cocked.

  Guppy walked over for a closer look. “Him? You and him?” He pointed at the screen. “Look at those cold beady eyes. I bet his great granddaddy was a horse thief.”

  “Again,” Sidney interjected, “we didn’t get engaged. I said no.”

  “But you slept with him, right?”

  Sidney pushed her hair back over her head. She’s worse than Sadie! “Let’s get back on the track that doesn’t have anything to do with my sex life, okay?”

  Sam spun back around in her chair, facing Sid. “My door’s always open when you want to talk about it.” She turned back around.

  Behind her, Smoke was chuckling. Sidney turned and punched him in the shoulder.

  “Ow,” he said, flatly.

  “Now what’s this bloodwork all about?” she asked.

  “Just a second and I’ll tell you,” he said.

  Guppy drew blood from Smoke’s arm then proceeded to inject the blood into a large glass vial of solution. He was stirring the blood in with a clear liquid when the most bizarre thing happened. It started to shine in the light.

  Smoke’s face turned grim.

  “Yep, you were right,” Guppy said to him with a frown. “They’ve got the Glow in you.”

  Smoke smacked his fist on the kitchen counter.

  Wham!

  CHAPTER 20

  “The Glow?” Sid asked. “What is that?”

  “It’s a tracking serum,” Guppy said, disposing of the syringe in a biohazard bag. “Experimental stuff.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Well, don’t be surprised. It’s relatively new and not used very much. Mostly tested by the Department of Agriculture on animals.”

  Sidney thought about the letter from the Bureau. We’ve got eyes on him. She had wondered how that could be, and now it made perfect sense.

  “It’ll wear off, Smoke,” Guppy said, trying to sound reassuring. “And it’s never been proven effective.”

  “Are there any side effects?” she asked.

  “Don’t know.” Guppy rubbed his chin. “Are there, Smoke?”

  “Aside from headaches, blurred vision, and nosebleeds, I’m perfectly fine.” He shrugged. “Of course, fighting for your life causes some of that.”

  Sid wanted to reach out and touch him. She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to be used as someone’s lab experiment. She noticed a sad look in Sam’s eyes. Behind her was a clip of Cyrus’s face. Has he known all along where Smoke was? Where I was? The bastard!

  “I’ll get more tests done and see how diluted it is. Maybe it’s down to the final days.”

  “Apparently, it’s lasted for months. I feel like a collared dog.”

  “How does this Glow work?”

  “It’s a bit like the dye they put in you for bloodwork. It spreads through the body and can be picked up like a radio signal. It has a frequency. They tune into it.” He snapped up the lab kit. “But, just because it’s in you doesn’t mean that it works. Remember that, Smoke.”

  He nodded. “I’ve made it this far. I’ll be fine.”

  Sidney yawned. She had another dozen questions that she’d like to ask, but she’d had enough. Their knowledge of the Glow impressed her. How did they know about it? What kind of access did they have? She had a last name now, and it was time she learned a little bit about them. “It’s been a pleasure,” she said, picking up her things. “But I’m going home to get some shut eye.” She opened up the door. “I’ll swing by tomorrow, assuming you’ll still be here.”

  “Uh, bye,” Sam
said, waving her fingers with a funny look on her face.

  Smoke and Guppy weren’t even looking as Sid closed the door behind her. She felt a load fall from her shoulders when she fired up the Hellcat’s engine. She needed space. Time to settle herself. She wanted to look into a few things on her own. Who they were and what the Glow was. She dropped the car into gear and sped off down the road. Need to make sure they aren’t all full of bullshit.

  ***

  Sidney tossed all night in her sleep and woke up with a slight headache. Fully dressed, she sat on the sofa watching the TV and sipping coffee. The local news was on. She laughed a little. The lead anchor wore a burgundy tie and had a caterpillar moustache. What a clown. I bet everyone’s seen the movie but him.

  She soaked it in for almost thirty minutes, getting updates on traffic and weather before she turned the TV off. It was a habit, watching the news, but Guppy’s words gave her another perspective that she hadn’t given much thought to before. Plenty of conspiracies, so little proof. Or is there? She took a seat behind her laptop at the counter and punched in her password. Her FBI mailbox had a few canned messages and something else.

  Yes!

  Her shadow authorization access had come through. She began clicking through various websites, setting up passwords and entering authorization codes. After about thirty minutes of answering security questions to various sites, she sat back in her seat.

  Who shall I look up first?

  Being an agent of the FBI, there wasn’t much you couldn’t look up about an ordinary citizen. It came with the job. But any inquiries fed into the system, and those checks were reviewed by someone else in the agency. She didn’t want anyone else knowing what they were doing. I wonder what database Sam is hacking? Crap, I didn’t get her last name. Way to go, Agent Shaw. She typed Gilligan Guppy into the database.

  Guppy’s face, social security number, and birthday popped up. His work history was nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, it was too ordinary.

  “Service Manager at Walmart?” She shook her head. “He’s not working at Walmart. Auto Zone maybe.” She felt a little guilty doing research on him. Clicking from link to link and place to place, she found everything she could. It was clean, all the way down to the bank records and credit cards. Guppy was just an ordinary citizen living his life day by day. Not married. Next of kin all deceased. “That’s odd.”

  She gently rubbed her aching shoulder that itched a little and took a sip of coffee. She thought about some of the things that Guppy had said. “They only show you what they want to show you.” Huh, they could be FBI for all I know. Great. She plugged in Angi Harlow. Nothing popped up remotely close to the pictures she’d seen.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  The knocking sounded familiar. Smoke? She made her way over and looked through the key hole. A courier in a blue uniform stood on the other side, holding a package. She opened the door.

  “Are you Sidney Shaw?” he said with frosty breath. He had freckles, and dark red hair spilled out from underneath his cap that was almost pulled over his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “Special delivery. Sign here, please.”

  She eyed the box. The cardboard was solid black. “Does it say who it’s from?”

  He looked at his digital pad. “Mmmmm, an M. Carlson.” He shrugged. “I guess you weren’t expecting it. Do you want me to return it?”

  “No.” She signed the pad and took the package. “I know him. Thanks.”

  “Have a nice day.”

  She closed the door in his face, staring at the package. There weren’t any postage markings on it at all, but a letter was slipped inside a sealed plastic bag stuck to the box. She shook the box. It had some heft to it. She put her ear to it. Is that ticking? Her fingers went numb. She closed her eyes and put her ear to it again. Phew, nothing. She peeked back through the keyhole. The courier’s van motored out of the parking lot. It was black with white stripes along the side. The lettering on the van read Jebco Deliveries, in red.

  She set the box down on the coffee table and took a seat on her couch. She tore the letter off and opened it up. The typed letter read.

  Agent Shaw:

  Looking forward to meeting you soon. I’ll let you know when I’m available. In the meantime, take advantage of the contents of this package. You’ll need it … soon.

  Regards,

  Mal Carlson

  CHAPTER 21

  “What could this be? And who is Mal Carlson?” she said, opening the briefcase-sized package. Inside was a black case with a latch on it. There was a note attached. It read:

  Hold onto this case. I’ll need it back.

  “Sure thing, buddy.”

  She clicked open the clasp and lifted the lid. The inside was filled with black foam, like many gun cases she had seen. There was a knife in a case about eight inches long. The grooves in the hilt perfectly fit her hand. The curved edge was as keen as anything she’d seen. In another slot were two loaded fifteen-round magazines, fit for her FBI-issued weapon.

  “Interesting.”

  She pushed out a bullet. It had a unique full-metal casing that had a blue sheen to it. The tip was pointed and tipped with a tiny red dot. Sidney had seen plenty of ammo in her days. It reminded her of a tracer round, but it was still unlike any ballistic she’d ever seen.

  “Guess I won’t know until I shoot it.”

  In the middle of the case was a folded shirt that felt like a thin sweater of some kind. It was dark gray, tightly woven, and flexible, if a little heavy. Its waffle texture reminded her of long underwear. Dark copper stripes ran up and down the middle and around the arms.

  “What the heck is this for?”

  The longer she stared at the shirt, the more compelled she felt to put it on. Why not? She took off Smoke’s T-shirt and slipped this on like a second skin. The flexible top hugged the curves of her body. It felt warm, almost like a part of her. It breathed well too. I like it. Her body became more alive. The throbbing inside her stitched shoulder eased. She felt energized. There was something inside the fabric. Copper or magnets maybe. She picked the knife up. Hmmm? She ran it across the sleeve of her arm. It didn’t cut the odd fabric.

  “Wow.”

  Inside the box she noticed a pair of pants, the same make-up as the shirt. She shrugged, switched out of her jeans, and slipped them on. Her blood tingled. She wanted to run a hundred miles.

  What is this stuff made of?

  The heightened sense of her body was exhilarating but natural. She slipped her clothes on over the outfit and laced on her boots.

  Time to go … somewhere.

  She snapped up the briefcase, grabbed a new bag out of the closet and transferred her gear, got her travel mug, and headed out the door. The bite of the icy air was muted by the suit, nipping at only her fingers and nose. She was firing up the engine of her car from the outside when she noticed a man walking down the sidewalk with his hands inside his jacket pockets. Her eyes met his. It was Smoke.

  “Ah, I see you got one too,” he said, looking at the briefcase. He jogged in place with high knees. “Tell me you got a suit too. It’s amazing. I’ve heard about them but never believed they existed.” He stretched his arms. “Man, I feel great in this.”

  An image of Smoke in only the suit flashed through her mind. I bet you look great too. “Did you drive?” she said, opening her door.

  “No.”

  “And Sam and Guppy are?”

  “Doing their thing.” He rubbed his hands together. “Do you have any more coffee inside?”

  Don’t tempt me in close quarters. “No. Get in, let’s go.” She got in.

  Smoke eased in beside her. He had a piece of paper in his hand. “Some places we might want to check out first. Philanthropies tied into Drake.” He set it on the dash. “Fat Sam and Guppy are on it too.”

  She put the car in reverse, started to ease out, stopped, and shoved the car back into park. She turned and looked at him. “What are you doing her
e?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You? Here? Now? Tell me why.”

  “I just happened to be in the —”

  “Don’t bullshit me!” She wasn’t sure why she let it out, but it felt good. “The man I read about in your file is a lone wolf. Independent. Bucks authority. But here you are, completely out of the ordinary. What are you up to?”

  “I’m changing my ways.”

  “I don’t buy that.”

  “Why does it matter?” He slid a knife out of his jacket. It was like the one she’d received. “Did you get one of these, too? It’s made of a unique steel alloy I haven’t figured out yet.”

  “Listen, dude. I can’t count on you one minute and not the next. I need you to be accountable.”

  “Well, I’m here,” he put the knife away, “so I’m accountable. And being unpredictable is kind of my thing.”

  The muscles in her jaw tightened. The military and the Bureau were all about teamwork and reliability.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Agent Shaw. ‘The machine breaks down, we break down.’ Man, we used to love to watch that movie. Good stuff.” He cleared his throat. “But too much blind loyalty also creates vulnerabilities. The element of surprise can escape us, and sometimes that’s the edge you need when taking on an unknown enemy.”

  It made sense, but it wasn’t satisfying. “Fair enough.” She put the car back into reverse.

  Smoke put his hand on top of hers and looked her in the eye. “You can count on me.”

  His words seemed to have a deeper meaning to them that penetrated her to the heart. She swallowed. “We’ll see.”

  CHAPTER 22

  They spent the better part of the morning and afternoon chasing down dead ends. Restaurants. Hotels. A couple of local stores. Angi Harlow was a gorgeous woman. Her stunning looks would make an impression on anyone. Not one person was forthcoming with anything. No surprise. Not a flinch.

 

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