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

by Craig Halloran

  “In theory.” Sam picked one of the pictures up. “Or Smoke missed you.”

  “Now that’s a theory.” Sid plucked a shipping manifest out of the file and noted a tiny logo on it. It matched some markings on people’s arms, and one of the soldiers with Mason Crow had the image sewn on his camouflage shirt. “I think this is probably a good place to start.”

  “Assuming you survive until Monday. You and your niece both.”

  “We’ll be fine.” Wheels turning inside her mind, Sidney wanted to get out on the hunt, but that wasn’t going to happen with Megan. She had been right about not looking at the file, but now that she had, she was hungry. Starving with curiosity.

  “I can see this is eating at you. Tell you what,” Sam suggested, reaching for the file. “How about I take the file, and you can pick it up on Monday, or Sunday night if you like. Out of sight, out of mind. Have some piece of mind with your little sunshine.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Sid stared at the file. She knew she couldn’t control everything all the time. “You know, it wouldn’t kill us to make a copy.”

  “Wouldn’t that be breaking the rules?”

  “I suppose, but I don’t think you’re going to tell,” Sid said. “Come on. I know a place we can go.”

  Sam took her by the wrist with a firm grip. “Let go, Sid. Just let go of it.”

  Sidney started to pull away, but then she sighed. “All right. Let’s do this. Take some pics with your phone.”

  “No, too many Cloud issues,” Sam said. “Just let it go for a while, will you? Besides, I know you remember most of what you saw.”

  True. Sidney’s sharp memory retained plenty, but she had only glanced through what she’d seen. She ground her teeth, eyed Sam, and released the file. “I want it back Sunday night.”

  Sam got up with a smile. “Oh, don’t you worry. You’ll have it back.”

  Sidney followed her to the front door and let her out. “I better.”

  Sam’s shoes echoed off the concrete steps, and out of sight she went.

  Sidney closed the door and rested her shoulder on it. Her hands clutched at her aching head. Am I crazy?

  “Aunt Sidney,” Megan said, popping up over the back of the couch. “Can I still have a Pop-Tart?”

  “Sure, sweetie.” Sid headed into the kitchen. Outside in the parking lot, a woman’s voice cried out for help, and a blood-curdling screamed followed.

  “AAAAIIIIEEEE!”

  CHAPTER 12

  “Stay put,” Sidney said, snatching up her pistol, “and lock the door behind me. I’ll be right back.” Rushing outside and into the parking lot, she found Sam sitting on the blacktop clutching her leg. “What happened?”

  “They got it! They got the file!” Sam pointed toward the parking lot exit. A dark blue sedan without any plates swerved and clipped the back end of a car that was backing out. Without slowing, it sped away and out of sight onto the highway. “I’m sorry, Sidney. I’m sorry.”

  Sid kneeled alongside Sam. The woman had a nasty gash through her jeans on the side of her thigh. “Are you okay?”

  Grimacing, Sam nodded. Tears streaked down the corners of her eyes. “That’s going to leave a scar, isn’t it?”

  “That’s what you’re worried about?”

  “Well, that and the file,” Sam said, stretching out her hand. “Help me up. I need to get out of here.”

  “Let’s get you inside so I can take a look at that.”

  “No.” Sam pointed at the car whose bumper had been clipped. A man with fuzzy hair was pointing and screaming. Sam started limping toward an all-white mustang convertible. “Cops will be coming. You’ll have to cover for me.”

  “I need my file back!”

  Sam closed herself in the car, fired up the engine, and drove away. Seconds later, Sidney closed her jaw, headed back for the apartment, and knocked on the door. “It’s Aunt Sid, Megan. You can let me in now.”

  The door cracked open, and Megan peeked out. The chain held the door from completely opening. “Is everything okay?”

  “It is now,” Sid said, squatting down. “Are you okay?”

  Megan nodded and closed the door.

  Sid heard the chain come off, and then the door opened again. She eased her way inside and locked the door behind her. “You did good, Megan. You did just like I said. I think I’ll let you eat the entire box of Pop-Tarts for that.”

  “Yippee!”

  ***

  It took less than an hour to sort everything out when the police arrived. Sidney told the officers most of what she saw, but she didn’t claim to know anything about who Sam was. Instead, she opted to not be forthcoming with all that she knew. It left her steaming inside. She wasn’t big on half-truths and lies. Especially ones told to her. Telling them herself left her feeling dirty.

  Somebody really needs to explain all this.

  She was sitting on the sofa hiding her glum face with a smile when Megan asked, “Aunt Sid, can we watch a movie?”

  “Sure, whatever you want. You pick.”

  For the latter half of the day, she played with Megan, feeling guilty because her heart wasn’t in it. Her thoughts raced through every detail of her visit from Smoke, Sam, and Guppy. Perhaps the entire thing had been staged to get that file. A ruse. A deception. Was someone playing a game with her?

  “Can we order pizza?” Megan asked at dinnertime.

  “Sure. Whatever you want.” Sidney scratched some images on a note pad. It was a picture of Mason Crow. His broad face and features gave him an inhuman quality. On a separate pad she made a list of people, places, and things she’d seen in the file. A tiny finger tapped her on the shoulder. “Huh?”

  Megan looked up at her. “You need to call it in.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She set down her pad. “Where’s the phone?”

  Megan cocked her head. “You have it. In your pocket.”

  “I thought there was a phone in the apartment.”

  “There was, but it was discontexted.”

  Sidney laughed. “You mean disconnected.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said, discontexted.” The little girl yawned. Her light eyes were weak and tired. “I like Hawaiian Style, with thin crust and extra ham.”

  Sidney readied her phone. “Your mommy likes that?”

  “No. That’s Grandpa’s recipe.”

  “So it is.” She knew that. They had practically grown up on it as kids. “And you want it from Husson’s Pizza, I take it?”

  “Either there or Grazianno’s.” Sidney curled up on the couch, sniffled, and closed her eyes. “Wake me up when it gets here. I think I need a little nap time.”

  ***

  The next twenty-four hours were more restless ones. On the outside, Sidney tried to entertain Megan the best she could, but the Black Slate was eating her alive on the inside. There was no word either. Not from Smoke, Mal, or anyone. She stewed over whether or not to report that the file had been lost, but it could wait until Monday. Maybe later.

  Megan lay on the sofa napping again. Sid covered her with a blanket. The little girl’s energy ran high in spurts before turning low. She needs to see a doctor.

  Sid watched television on and off, but nothing eased her restless mind. It was 3:16 Sunday afternoon, and Allison wasn’t expected back for hours. I’m not going to make it. She rubbed Megan’s leg. She must think I’m a horrible aunt.

  A jingle of keys sounded outside the door, and the knob rattled. Sidney unholstered her gun and slipped over to the door and peered through the spyhole. Allison? She removed the chain just before the door swung open.

  Allison shuffled inside with her head down and tossed her luggage on the floor.

  “You’re home early,” Sidney said, “Is everything all right?”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.” She made her way over to Megan and huddled at her side. She kissed her daughter’s cheek. “I missed you.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I said I’m fine,” A
llison said again, not making eye contact. “And I appreciate it. I really do. But if you don’t mind, I could use some time alone with my daughter.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to tell me that face to face.”

  Allison stood up with a sigh and faced Sid. She had a split lip, and her chin was bruised. “I partied too much and fell. And I don’t need a lecture. I’ve embarrassed myself enough already.”

  Sidney reached for Allison’s sleeve. “Let me see your arms.”

  “What? No!” Allison backed away. “I’m not using.”

  “I didn’t think you were, but I can see a bruise on your wrist that wasn’t there when you left. How’d that get there?” She reached out again. “And what’s that on your neck?”

  Allison smacked her hand away. “Get out of here!”

  CHAPTER 13

  There was no argument. Sidney gathered her things, kissed Megan on the forehead, and left. She’d been driving around in the Hellcat ever since. Three hours of lonely road. She drove around Interstate 495 at least four times before pulling into a gas station.

  The chill nipped at her ears as she pumped high-octane fuel into her car. Finished, she headed inside the store, fixed a large coffee, paid with a card, and hit the road. Inside her, a conflict stirred. Allison infuriated her. Whoever had hurt her sister made it worse. And the last thing Sid wanted was for Megan to have to see such things. It pained her heart. She said the serenity prayer.

  “O God, give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

  The courage to change the things that I can,

  And the wisdom to know the difference.”

  She took a swig of coffee and thundered down the road. I can’t do it all. At least not on my own.

  Cruising through the biting wind of the late-winter day, she headed toward Smoke’s apartment. She wanted answers to her questions. And somebody better be there to answer. Off the interstate she went, onto the highway until she hit the back road that rolled right up to the remodeled service station that was now Smoke’s home. The brakes squeaked as she came to a stop. No lights shone from within, and no cars were parked outside.

  I thought Sam would be here.

  She shut off the engine, made her way to the front door, and turned the knob. It was unlocked. She swung the door open and was greeted by a burst of warm air. Inside, the light was dim, but the gas furnace rattled above. She closed the door behind her. “Smoke?”

  “You’re early.” Smoke sat in a chair that seemed too small for his frame, hunched over his computer desk, studying something.

  “Am I? I didn’t realize I was on your schedule. As a matter of fact, I’m not aware of any schedule.”

  He kept his back to her, igniting her blood.

  She marched over and spun him around. “Tell me what in the hell is going on!”

  Smoke tilted is head back and gazed up into her eyes. His color had returned, and his strong, handsome features were more pronounced in the dusky light. He offered a smile and shrugged his brawny shoulders. “I’d be happy to fill you in, Agent Shaw.” He reached behind him and grabbed a sealed manila file and handed it over to her. “You might want to start here.”

  The file had some heft to it. She wanted to hit him with it. She ripped the top off and removed the black file that was inside. The tab on it read, Mason Crow. “What is this?”

  “You might want to sit down.”

  “I’m fine where I’m standing.”

  “Suit yourself then, Agent Shaw.” He got up and took a seat on the old black leather couch and sunk in. “It was all a setup. Sorry.”

  She opened the file. Most of the pages and pictures were identical, but there was more information. A notable amount. There was a smaller envelope inside with bureau letterhead in it. “What do you mean by ‘setup?’”

  Smoke rubbed his neck. “The other file was a ploy to draw the enemy out.”

  She stiffened. “And I wasn’t consulted on this!”

  “No. They agreed that it might interfere. That it was too risky. Keeping you in the dark was better. At least that’s the version I got.” He looked her in the eye. “I didn’t agree. Things got dicey on Friday, and that’s why I showed up.”

  She walked over, leaned down in front of him, and hit his knee with the folder. “Who are they?”

  “Good question. I don’t have the answer.”

  She let out a disturbing chuckle and flopped down on the sofa. “Am I even on the FBI’s payroll anymore?”

  “As long as the checks keep clearing, I’d say so. Besides, there are plenty of folks on the payroll that people never see or hear about.”

  “Yes, I know.” From the file, she took out the letter and opened it up. “Everything’s a conspiracy.”

  “And you still doubt that after everything you’ve seen?”

  “No, I believe what I see, and I believe in things I don’t see. I just don’t share your disconcerted views.”

  He sat up. “Disconcerted?”

  She read the letter to herself.

  Agent Shaw,

  Due to the unorthodox arrangement of this assignment, you will need to keep the following items under consideration.

  John Smoke is a convicted criminal with special skills. Don’t underestimate him. He’s dangerous. Unpredictable. Possible escape risk.

  You have eyes on him, and we have eyes on him. Allow him free range. We’ll let you know if he needs reeling in.

  If any alien objects or circumstances or individuals encountered, notify your superiors immediately.

  Seek Mal Carlson for assistance when needed.

  Shadow cover authorized on this Deep Black assignment.

  Trust your instincts and good hunting,

  The Bureau

  “Care to share?” Smoke asked.

  “You mean to tell me you don’t know? Huh?” She handed him the letter. “Go ahead. Read. Have yourself a chuckle. After all, this is becoming a joke.”

  “It’s anything but that,” he said, staring at the letter and then chuckling. He did his Batman voice again. “He’s dangerous. Hah. I just love that part. Unpredictable. I guess that’s ’cause I’m Batman.”

  Sidney held her lips tight to keep from laughing and stuck her nose in the folder. There were a few more photos, and one of a woman stood out in particular. There was something about her, standing alongside Mason Crow with an M-16 assault rifle resting over her shoulder. A deep intensity shone in the tall and lanky woman’s eyes. She seems familiar.

  Absorbed in the photo, she hadn’t even noticed that Smoke had gotten up until she heard a rustle behind her. “What are you doing?”

  Smoke stood by the kitchen wearing only a pair of boxer-briefs. His long frame was layered in corded muscles. With a panther’s ease, he slid the sweet heart suit up over his powerful legs. His arms were scarred and knotty. His smooth, strapping chest revealed something primal and powerful about him. A giant cat of a man ready to spring. “Getting ready,” he said.

  Sidney swallowed and caught her breath. Something stirred inside her. She ingested him with her eyes. It was just her. Just him. And nobody else for miles. He slid the rest of the suit over his brawny shoulders. “Where’d you get that suit?”

  “Mal sent me a new one.”

  “Mal? Oh, your buddy Mal.” Her urgings cooled. Her temper flared. “You sound like old buddies.”

  “I said he sent it to me.” He put on his jeans and a burgundy hoodie that was similar to Sam’s. “Do you happen to have yours?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because those people who stole the false file, well…” he strapped two guns to his hips, “I know exactly where they are.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “You know exactly where they are, huh?” Sidney said. They stood outside her car in the rain twenty miles south of DC, looking at an open field. “Lead the way then.”

  Smoke stared at an app on his phone. According to him, they had planted a tracking device in the dummy file. That
explained how Smoke had known Sidney was staying at Allison’s apartment. He tapped the side of his phone with his palm.

  “Really?” Sid said. “Is it named Ziggy, too?”

  “Huh, good one.” He stuffed his phone into his pocket and sauntered out into the field. “Something’s here. I can feel it.”

  Huffing through the drizzling rain, Sidney followed his lead. On the ride over, she and Smoke had made amends and discussed the file—and a few other things. His apologetic words had given her some comfort, but there was still plenty of tension between her shoulders, even with the sweet heart suit on. Smoke had given her a hoodie too, like the ones he and Sam had, saying it was another of Mal Carlson’s devices. Hers was dark blue.

  “I see something,” he said, pointing ahead.

  Squinting her eyes, she made out a very high chain-link fence.

  Smoke marched straight for it, stopped, and gawked at the crooked sign. “No trespassing.”

  “No surprise.” She made her way a little farther down along the fence. “It says here, ‘Property of Drake Real Estate.’” She cocked her head and stretched out her hands. “I wonder if it’s electrified.” She grasped it and started shaking uncontrollably. “Aaaaaiiiiiieeeeee!”

  Smoke shook his head at her. “Really?”

  She stopped shaking and let go. “You know, you’re the first person that hasn’t worked on.”

  “And you’ve done that how many times?”

  Once. “I can’t remember.” I’m really losing my humorous touch. “It seems odd that the people who took the file would come this way. There isn’t a road or anything.”

  “I’m not right on their trail. I’m staying a quarter mile off.” He reached up, grabbed the lip of the fence, and pulled himself up and over. He eyed her through the fence. “I don’t want them to see me. Are you coming?”

  “I kind of like the view from right here,” she said through the fence. “And I assume you’re accustomed to it.”