“You’re cold.”
She felt a little bad, but made no apologies. “Sam mentioned that you fought a gargoyle. Is there any truth to that?”
“Yep. Now are you coming over, or are you keeping the car warm for my return?”
“Just hold on a second. I think we need a little more planning before we do anything.”
He put his hands on his hips. “Fine, let’s hear it.”
“First, the objective. Mason Crow. They want him alive.”
“Yes, same as always.” He shrugged and came closer, almost pressing his face to the fence. “Nothing new. Listen, I can go this alone. Retrieve. Report. Then we’ll take step two. You can count on me.”
They both clutched the fence, and her fingers touched his. She climbed over and hopped down. “We’ll see.”
Night had fallen. The pair cut through the darkness of the meadow. The rain slid right off their hoodies, and the second skin she wore left her feeling energized.
“I’ve got the signal back,” Smoke said, staring at his phone. “Maybe a couple hundred meters that way.” He pointed.
Wading through the tall grasses, she caught a whiff of manure. The landscape flattened and large bales of hay were scattered throughout the area. Peeking out of the night against the trees were a handful of silos. When they made a bead for the structures, several storehouses appeared.
Smoke stayed her with his hand and hunkered down. He produced a small pair of binoculars and put them to his eyes. He handed them to her.
Gazing through them, she got a better look at the ranch. A huge log cabin sat in the middle, with smoke billowing out of the chimney stack. The windows showed a warm glow within. The binoculars detected something else as well: heat signatures of men standing or strolling on the porch. With assault rifles in their arms. She surveyed more of the area. Guards were posted all around the complex. They stood among the silos, storehouses, and barns. There were vehicles too. Humvees. Vans. Farm trucks. Beyond the buildings was something else. A helicopter. Morning Glory.
“I counted fifteen, what about you?”
She handed him the binoculars. “Twenty.”
“Hah,” he said, pulling out his pistol. “I was testing you. Good eye. Besides, I like these odds better.” He clicked out the magazine and slapped a different one in. “The more bad guys, the merrier.” He tossed her a magazine. “Blue tips. Have fun.”
“More presents from Mal?”
“Yep.” Smoke stood up in the grass and grinned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to put some holes in things.” He glanced at her. “So what’s the plan?”
She switched magazines. “Tell me yours. If I don’t like it, I’ll tell you mine.”
“Plan A, we disable the chopper first and recon. Plan B, we secure the chopper, find Crow, unleash a distraction, take him down, and whisk him away in the chopper.”
“Are you flying the chopper? Just because I was in the Air Force doesn’t mean I’m a pilot.” Her fingertips tingled. “I’m a cop, remember?”
“I’ve got it covered.”
Sidney didn’t remember reading anything about him being a pilot. “Let’s just find out if he’s in there first. And stick together.”
Staying low, the two of them circled around the ranch toward the chopper. Her nerves were on fire, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach. A step ahead of her, Smoke prowled with the finesse of a jungle cat. It eased her doubts. She split off to Smoke’s right, stumbled over something, and pitched forward. Crap. She gathered her feet under her.
Smoke stopped and turned back.
“I’m fine.”
He turned his back and marched forward again.
Sidney took her next step. Something seized her legs and jerked her down to the ground. A rock-hard fist clocked her in the side of the head, drawing bright spots. Cold and clammy hands clutched at her throat. Uncanny strength pinned her down. Dead yellow eyes found hers. It was a deader, stuffing her face down in the earth’s soft grime. Help!
CHAPTER 15
Fighting against her aggressor as quietly as she could, she released her gun and fumbled for her knife. Her hand found the hilt and jerked it out. She stabbed wildly over her shoulder. The blade bit deep into flesh but the strong arms held her fast. Thrashing, she twisted onto her back and stabbed at its chest. The blade sunk into its belly.
Its expressionless leer didn’t change. Its fists flailed at her head.
She covered up.
Wop! Wop! Wop! Urk!
The beating stopped. Her eyes snapped open. The deader that straddled her swayed with a knife tip sticking out of its chest. It teetered over into the grass.
Smoke stood there offering his hand. “How are you?”
Heart thundering inside her ears, she got back on her feet. “Fine.” She kicked the monster. “Damn dirty deaders.”
The monster still twitched.
Smoke kneeled down and wrenched his blade like a key, making a sickening crunch.
The deader’s body went limp.
A beam of light shone from the compound.
She huddled down, hissing, “Great.”
Smoke whispered back, “You didn’t fire your weapon. I’m impressed.” He offered over to her the gun she’d lost in the struggle. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell Cyrus you lost it.”
She snatched it out of his hand, whispering harshly, “I didn’t lose it.”
As the light passed over their hiding spot, she took a glance. Three men were spread out and coming their way with assault rifles ready. Assuming these men knew what they were doing, it would be her last gunfight if they saw her first. A few quick blasts into her spot and it would be over. This is bad. Really bad.
Smoke crawled over to her side and whispered, “We could surrender.”
“Are you nuts?”
He shrugged.
The light swept over their heads again, and she took another glance. The men were twenty yards away and closing in. Do I shoot or not? Do I shoot or not?
Smoke wiggled her knife in front of her eyes. “I’ll handle this.”
Suddenly, a buck rushed through the grasses and bounded over them. A cry of alarm went up. Shots were fired.
Blat-at-at! Blat-at-at!
“Stop shooting, you idiot!” said one of the guards. “It’s a fricking deer!”
Still huddled beside Smoke, Sidney watched one guard in a pea coat march toward the one she thought had fired. He snatched the man’s weapon away.
“Give me that!” He cocked the weapon back and stuffed it into the man’s belly.
“Oof!” the man gasped, collapsing to the ground.
“Now I have to explain this mishap to the boss.” The lead guard lowered the muzzle on the fallen one. “I should probably shoot you myself. It’d be better than seeing you turned into one of those deaders.” He tossed the rifle at the man. “Let’s get this over with. Better hope they’re feeling merciful.”
The guard pushed himself up with his weapon and trudged behind the other two. Near the log cabin, a small force had gathered. The lead guard held his arm up and waved. Before long there were some angry mutterings cutting through the steady rain.
Smoke nudged her. “We need to move while they’re distracted. Come on.”
Heart racing and keeping low, she pushed through the tall grasses with her gun barrel lowered. The thought of deaders prowling the grounds kept the alarm sounding in the back of her mind.
Smoke led her behind a barn that stood adjacent to the back porch of the cabin. The smell of hay and manure tickled her nose. She sneezed into her sleeve.
“This isn’t the time for that,” Smoke hissed.
“Then maybe we should vacate.”
“Are you allergic?”
“No.” She pressed her ear against the barn. Soft rustlings came from inside. She crept along the way, running her hands along the boards. Her fingers found an open knothole about knee high. She crouched down and peeked through. She stiffened. Children aged eight to
twelve were busy packing, taping, and stacking boxes. A fire erupted inside her. Not again!
“What is it?” Smoke said, bending down.
She scooted away.
Smoke took a look through the hole, grunted, and eased back. “They’ll have to wait.”
“I’m sure they’ve waited long enough.” She took out her phone and started to dial.
Smoke pushed her hand down. “One thing at a time. This is Drake space. Your comrades at the FBI aren’t going to drop in without more evidence.”
He was right. She didn’t want to admit it, but he was. All she could think about was Megan. What if her niece were in that situation? The horror of it all. She took another look. There were five kids, wearing khaki jumpers. They all seemed so familiar. Their movements were purposed, fluid, and eerie.
“Hey,” Smoke whispered. “I think I have an idea.” He twisted a silencer onto the muzzle of his gun. “See that propane tank? How about I put a hole in it?”
“I think we need a more subtle course of action.”
Smoke offered a smile. “I don’t.” He took aim and fired.
Ptew!
There was a metal ting sound, but no explosion.
“Idiot!” she whispered through her teeth. “Good thing it was empty.”
He took aim again. “I see another one.”
“No, it’s too loud.” She pushed his gun barrel down. “We just got here. Just wait a minute.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll draw them out and then scatter. Easy peasy, Agent Shaw.”
“Easy peasy?”
“You didn’t have to come. And frankly, you’re slowing me down.”
“You arrogant sonuva—”
Smoke clamped his hand over her mouth.
The door on the back porch of the cabin opened. A towering man stepped out of the inner light and into the porch roof’s shadows. His head was partly hidden by the rafters. Two guards sidled up to him, and he waved them away. There was a flicker of light, and a cigar was lit. Its fiery ashes burned bright and dulled again.
“That’s him,” Smoke whispered in her ear.
She peeled his hand away and said, “I know, you sonuvabitch. And you better not do that again.”
The giant man took the wide-plank steps off the porch and into the rain. It was Mason Crow. Tall. Dark. Black bearded. Much bigger in life than in the pictures.
One of the men in pea coats came down the steps and said a few words to him.
Crow was every bit of seven feet tall. Maybe four hundred pounds, all muscle. He bent his ear toward the man and nodded.
Sidney whispered, “You really think you can carry him out of here?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure the chopper can lift him.” Smoke let out a strange chuckle. “I’ve never seen such big shoulders.”
“Excuse me, but what are you doing?” A little girl in a khaki jumpsuit appeared beside Sidney, half-stopping her heart.
“Where did you come from?” Sid said, clutching her chest.
The little girl stood in the barn’s shadows with them. She was a straight-haired towhead, pale-eyed, with a maturity about her. “Where did you come from?”
“We need to go,” Smoke said with a sense of urgency.
“Can you tell me what your name is?” Sidney asked the girl.
“We need to go now,” Smoke said
“Sure,” the little girl said, “My name is—” Suddenly, she let out an ear-splitting scream.
CHAPTER 16
Sidney clamped her hand over the little girl’s mouth. “Sssssh!”
It was too late. The alarm sounded. Forces scrambled. Mason Crow, their target from the Black Slate file, ducked back inside the cabin.
“Way to go, Princess,” Smoke said. He laid down a round of cover fire. Men screamed and fell. “Get inside!”
Gunshots rang out all over.
Budda-budda-budda… Budda-budda-budda…
Sidney lifted the girl onto her shoulder and scrambled for the barn entrance. The barn door opened, and a man in a pea coat stepped outside. Sidney cracked off a shot into his leg.
“Aargh!” he cried out, falling to the ground.
She leapt over him and dashed inside the barn. Children, four that she could see, stood inside handling the boxes the same as they’d been doing before, packing them into a black van’s cargo doors. “Get in the van!” she said.
They all gave her a mute look.
She popped off a few rounds into the ceiling and yelled. “Now!”
The frightened children scrambled into the side door of the van. She jumped in the back with them and slammed the door shut behind her.
Smoke sat in the driver’s seat and said, “Hang on!” The van lurched forward and powered through the barn wall and barreled through the ranch. Gunfire erupted all around. Bullets tore into the metal.
“Get down,” Sidney said, covering the children as best as she could. “Stay down!” The van bounced up off of its wheels and landed hard. “What was that?”
“A person.” Smoke cut the wheel hard and surged through the ranch. Bullets blasted the windshield. Smoke hunkered behind the wheel and stomped on the gas. “Here we go!”
The van’s tires dug in, and the vehicle roared ahead, bouncing over the rough road. Sidney climbed into the front seat. The van was speeding down the driveway. Checking the side mirror, she saw other vehicles were in pursuit and closing in.
“Are you happy?” Smoke said.
“Happy?”
“Sure. Looks like this turned into a rescue after all.” He flashed his teeth. “Happy?”
“Just drive.”
The van now barreled down a country road toward where they had parked the Hellcat, slinging from side to side.
“You’re going to crash!”
“No, I’m not,” he said, slamming on the brakes and accelerating up a hairpin turn. “See? Besides, they can’t get around us. The road’s too narrow. Once we get around this crooked neck, it’s practically a straight stretch to the city.” He glanced at her. “What are you doing?”
“Calling backup.”
“We don’t need backup.”
“Yes, we do—unless you plan on adopting these kids.”
Smoke checked the rearview mirror. “Oh, them.” He smiled. “Hi, guys.” There was no response. “Pretty shy, I guess.” He slung the wheel back and forth more times until they found themselves on a straight stretch of gravel.
Sidney could make out a faint line of cars traveling down the highway in the distance. Her breathing eased. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she said to the kids. “Just stay down.”
“Yeah,” Smoke said, looking up and out of the front window. “Everything should be just fine, assuming we can get past that.”
A helicopter buzzed overhead, rattling the van. It landed on the road a half mile ahead.
“That’s a problem.” Smoke said.
“Go around it,” Sidney said.
He shook his head. The straightaway had a steep valley on either side. “The only thing we can do is pull off and run for it. Maybe we can get to your car from here, but not with these kids—unless they’re really, really fast kids.”
One of the children popped his head up and said, “I’m fast.”
“Yeah, me too,” said one right after the other.
Ahead, the helicopter lifted off the road.
“Whoa!” Sidney said, squinting. A lone man stood in the middle of the road. His arms were spread wide, shaking toward the sky. Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed. “Is that Mason Crow?”
“It’s something,” Smoke said. He pressed on the gas. “And it’s about to get rolled over!” The closer they got, the bigger the man became, filling the road. “Sweet mother of Pearl!” Smoke slammed on the brakes. “That’s not a man…”
From less than fifty yards away, Sidney got a closer look. It was at least eight feet tall and padded in brawny muscle and coarse hair all over, and it had the head of a bull and the body of a man. I
t shook the horns on its head and let out a strange roar. Its hooved foot scraped over the ground, and it charged. It can’t be! It can’t be! She finished Smoke’s sentence, “It’s a minotaur.”
Horns lowered, the man-bull made a bead straight for them.
Smoke put the van in gear and sped straight for it.
Frozen in her seat, Sidney said, “Why do I not like our chances?”
“Because this defies reasonable explanation.” Smoke’s knuckles were white on the wheel. “But can it defy the laws of momentum?”
Speeding toward each other, the van and the minotaur crashed. Twisted metal and shattered glass erupted from the impact. The van’s wheels dug into the gravel road. The minotaur’s horns pierced the hood. Its monstrous face growled and began shoving the van backward.
Sidney took out her pistol and started shooting. Blam! Blam!
The minotaur twisted its mighty neck and flipped the van over. The machine rolled over the hillside and slammed into the trees. Flames and smoke spilled out from underneath the hood. Smoke lay slumped on the wheel with his head bleeding. She shook him.
He groaned.
Dazed, Sidney clawed her way into the back that now lay sideways. The children were disheveled. Some had been knocked out. She found the latch to the cargo doors, twisted it, and shoved them open.
Wham!
The roof of the van buckled. Children screamed.
Wham!
Something had jumped on top of the van and started pounding on the roof. A horn ripped through the metal. A huge hand peeled it away. The minotaur leered inside, snorting.
Sidney went for her other gun and started shooting it in the face. Blam! Blam! Blam!
The minotaur let out a booming laugh, reached inside, and pulled her out of the van by the arm. It shook her like a doll and hopped down off the van. Her struggles were child-like against its raw power. Its animal eyes stared her down with hunger in them. Slinging her over its enormous shoulders, it said in a cavernous voice, “NICE. YOU’RE GONNA DO JUST FINE.”
CHAPTER 17
The minotaur had started into a jog, jostling her entire body. It stopped at the sound of Smoke’s voice. “Put her down.”
The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files Collector's Set: Books 1-10: Urban Fantasy Shifter Series Page 34
