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

by Craig Halloran

  “No,” Smoke said, mostly hidden by the popped-open trunk. “I’m just reloading.” He slammed the trunk shut and stood with a synthetic shotgun in his hands. “Come and get some.”

  “Huh. Those little bits of grain won’t stop me!” Like a great ape, Oliver leapt onto the hood of the car and scrambled over the roof.

  Smoke opened fire. Ka-blam! Ka-blam! Ka-blam!

  Chunks of flesh were ripped from Oliver’s body, but he churned on and pounced on top of Smoke. The two vast men thrashed back and forth. They punched. Kneed. Kicked. A heavyweight bout of two relentless champions.

  “This is good,” Sid heard Deanne say. “Real good.”

  Smoke broke free and backpedaled away. His face was bleeding, and his shoulder dangled. Oliver circled him with hands clutching open and closed. Half of his face was shot off, revealing lots of teeth. A chunk of shoulder and another of leg were gone as well. “I’m going to make you feel every bit of what you did to my brother.”

  Sid recoiled in her captors’ arms. Her heart sank. It was clear that Smoke’s shoulder was dislocated. Oliver, with his supernaturally charged hulking frame, would make good on his words. He’d tear him apart. I hope he has on his Sweet Heart suit.

  “I don’t guess you’ll be getting an engagement ring anytime soon,” Deanne said to her. She put her fists on her hips. “This will be good. Just wish I had some popcorn.”

  Oliver charged.

  There was a flash of silver like a strike of lightning. Oliver stopped in his tracks and glanced down. A blade was sunk hilt deep into his chest. “Aw, shit.” He dropped onto his knees and toppled over on his side.

  Smoke limped over to the car and leaned against it, panting. Bracing himself against the car, he shoved his shoulder back into place and yelled. He sagged to the hull floor, beaded in blood and sweat.

  “Bravo,” Deanne said, plucking up one of Sidney’s knives. “And after all that, I’m still going to kill you all.” She came at Sid. “You first.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Held fast by the deaders, Sidney used their strength as an anchor. She leapt upward, launching a kick, disarming Deanne, and flipping over. Using her leverage, she pulled the deaders’ heads together, loosening their grip. She twisted free.

  “Seize her,” Deanne ordered again. “Seize her!”

  The deaders clutched after Sid.

  Gunshots rang out. Blam! Blam!

  The deaders recoiled. Each had a hole in the head. Adjacent to them, Cyrus had his Glock on them. The deaders resumed their attack on Sid. “Why aren’t they falling?” he said with wide eyes.

  “They aren’t zombies,” Sid cried out, trying to free herself from their clutches.

  In a burst of movement, Deanne dashed away and wrenched the Glock from Cyrus’s hands. She then said, “You have to shoot the heart.” Blam! Blam!

  The deaders fell flat.

  Deanne cracked Cyrus between the eyes with the butt of the weapon and sent him bleeding to the shiny metal floor. She then turned the gun on Sid. “It’s still over.”

  “Over?” Sid said, cracking her neck from side to side. She shifted into a fighting stance. “If you’re such a badass, why don’t you show me what you got?”

  “Oh ho, I see the golden princess has some vengeance in her eyes.” Deanne smiled. “I trained Ted. Ted trained you. This will be interesting. I tell you what. You win, I’m your prisoner. You lose? Well, you all die. And just to make sure that my efforts are secured,” she put her fingers to her lips and let out a sharp whistle, “I’m bringing in some special referees.”

  The interior of the sweltering ship started to rattle. From the dark exterior of the ship’s hull came a shuffling of feet. Deaders were coming. They moved slowly but determined. A mix of men and women, half-animated with blank faces. They held heavy working tools like clubs. On their heads were metal bands with faint blinking lights. They wore dark-navy pea coats with beige jumpsuits underneath. Twenty or so encircled all of them.

  Sidney took a deep draw through her nose. She thought about Ted. His family. His friends. She set her jaw. “Let’s do this.”

  “Let’s do,” Deanne said. “Ding. Ding.” She came in high, feinted down, and executed a perfect leg sweep.

  Sid landed flat on her back. “Oof!” On instinct, she pushed herself back to her feet. That was fast. Really fast. Sid had fought plenty of people in her days. Men. Women. She had a case filled with trophies from tournaments, but none of that compared to what it was like when your life was on the line.

  “If you want, you can just give up, and I’ll make it easy,” Deanne said.

  “No thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.” Deanne lunged in. She kicked high. Punched low. Landed shot after shot after shot. Wap! Wap! Wap!

  Sid counterpunched. Counterkicked.

  Deanne slipped away, drove in again, and lit up her ribs. “Stings, doesn’t it, little Sidney?” Deanne backed off and circled. “Yeah, those Sweet Heart suits are really good against puncture wounds, but that won’t stop me from jangling up your innards.” She mopped the sweat from her eyes. “This is where I’d normally say you’ll be sore tomorrow, but you’ll be long dead before sunrise.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Sid said. Nostrils flaring, she rushed in and unleashed her rage. Locking her hands over Deanne’s head, she started driving her knee into the woman’s ribs. She locked her fingers in the woman’s hair, jerked her head back, and punched her in the jaw. Deanne’s head rocked backward, and her knees buckled. Sid hit her again. And again. Bone smacked into bone. Wap! Wap! Wap! Wap!

  Nose bleeding, Deanne spit out a mouthful of blood. In one swift move, she executed a judo throw and toppled Sidney over. She shoved her forearm into Sidney’s throat and put her full weight on it. “You’re tough. I’ll have them put that on your tombstone.”

  Face reddening, Sidney pushed back against the woman’s power. Deanne was strong. Solid. She had the leverage and the glazed look of a killer in her eye. Sidney drew her fist back and launched it hard into the woman’s ear.

  Deanne’s teeth clacked together. Her taut body went limber.

  Sid slugged her again, smiting her in the jaw.

  Deanne’s eyes flashed with anger. She still had Sidney pinned down, legs clamped over her waist. “I’ve had enough of this.” She unleashed a flurry of hard punches.

  Sid blocked some. She caught the full force of the others. Fighting against the unrelenting surge, her arms began to get heavy. Her arms juddered against every blow. She’s a maniac. She’s a machine. Fighting for her life, her limbs failed just as Deanne’s fingers locked around her throat.

  “Time to die,” Deanne said, ramping up the pressure.

  Sid took a halfhearted swing. The blow scraped off Deanne’s brow, cutting a little slit above her eye. Blood dripped from the wound and onto Sid’s face.

  I can’t die like this. I can’t die.

  CHAPTER 38

  Megan’s face flashed in Sid’s mind. Who would take care of her? New strength surged through her veins. She dug her fingers into one of Deanne’s hands. I won’t die like this! She locked onto Deanne’s thumb and wrenched it backward.

  Deanne let out a pained yelp. “Ouch!” The woman jumped up and away.

  Sid held onto Deanne’s arm and slung the rogue agent back down. Jaws clenched, she wrestled the older woman onto her stomach and rammed her elbow into her kidneys.

  Deanne let out another yelp.

  Sid shoved her onto her back and pinned her down the same way Deanne had her before. Like an MMA fighter, she started punching, one blow after the other. “You’re going to pay for what you did to Ted!” Whap! A glint of steel caught her eye. It was one of her knives. Sid plucked it up off the metal floor and raised it over her head. You’re going to pay!”

  Deanne’s body was limp. Her eyes were wide open, and she was panting. “Go ahead if you have the guts. Go ahead.”

  “Rrrrah!” Sid cried, bringing the knife down with all her might.
<
br />   Deanne lurched. Eyes blinking, she stared at the blade stuck in the ship’s hull by her side. She let out a ragged sigh.

  On her knees, Sid rolled Deanne over.

  Cyrus tossed her some flex cuffs, and with a knife, he cut loose Rebecca and Winslow.

  Still, they were surrounded by deaders. The strange half-dead people clutched oversized wrenches, pry bars, and chains in their hands.

  “Call them off,” Sid said to Deanne. “Call them off.”

  “No. I can’t do that. It would be disloyal.” Deanne took in a sharp breath and started to whistle.

  Buppa-Buppa-Buppa! Buppa-Buppa-Buppa! Buppa-Buppa-Buppa!

  Sid, Cyrus, Rebecca, and Winslow hit the deck.

  Smoke stood like a giant unloading one blast of rounds after another into the deaders with the M-60 machine gun.

  Bullets tore through their flesh. Heads were chopped up and severed. Body parts became tiny bits and pieces. It was carnage. Raw. Overwhelming. Smoke cut one deader clean in half. Its torso fell from its pelvis. One after another they fell under the heavy barrage of bullets. The gunfire stopped.

  “Hold on,” Smoke said, eyeing the heap of twitching bodies. He loaded up another belt of a hundred rounds of ammo. “Resume fire.”

  Buppa-Buppa-Buppa! Buppa-Buppa-Buppa! Buppa-Buppa-Buppa!

  Seconds later, all the deaders were nothing but a pile of rotten cat food. Smoke unslung the M-60 from his shoulder and tossed it back into the trunk. “Let’s roll.”

  Everyone regained their feet. Cyrus’s eyes were fixed on the leaf pile of exterminated bodies. He turned toward Smoke. “I’m not sure if that’s sick or not.” Taking out a handkerchief, he blotted the bloody spot on his forehead. “Ow.”

  “I’m glad I don’t have to do all those reports like I used to,” Sid said to Cyrus. “This case is all yours.”

  “Oh, you’re still going to have to make a statement.” Cyrus faced Deanne. “And you are going away for a very long time.”

  Deanne stood hunched over, listless eyes on the floor. Her spark was gone. It was as if a shroud of death had fallen over her.

  “I bet she’s chock full of useful information about the Black Slate,” Sid said, still trying to catch a full breath. “Just don’t let her get a reduced sentence.”

  “I won’t.”

  An engine started up. Smoke was backing up the Drake van that was blocking the exit. “Hey, I’ve got shotgun!” he yelled out the window.

  “Okay, let’s load up, everyone,” Cyrus said. He shoved Winslow into the back seat of the car. “Rebecca,” he said, looking around. “Rebecca?”

  Blam!

  Sidney spun around. Rebecca had a gun pointed at Deanne. She intently watched the woman’s figure collapse on the floor. Deanne had a bullet in the back of her head. Her eyes were glassy. She was dead.

  “Rebecca!” Cyrus said, rushing over but showing some hesitation. “What have you done?”

  Sidney found the woman’s next statement eerie. With a bit of a deranged look in her eye, Rebecca said, “She’s a murderer. All murderers must die.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Back inside FBI headquarters, Sidney sat in the lobby just outside Ted Howard’s old office. Smoke sat on the opposite end of the contemporary orange sofa, leaning back with one leg crossed over the other, reading a law enforcement magazine. Across from him was Ted’s secretary, Jane, pecking away at the keyboard. She looked stunning as usual, but her posture was stooped a little. Sid noticed a box of tissues on her desk where there had never been one before. Not ever.

  I miss Ted.

  Inside Ted’s office, an occasional outburst caught Sid’s ear. The offices were well insulated, but nothing did well to muffle raised voices. Sid had already been sitting there for more than thirty minutes, and Smoke had already been there when she came. He wore work boots, jeans, and a black T-shirt with a white dragon logo on it. All they did was say hi. She hadn’t seen him since they left Mallows Bay, and that had been two days ago. She glanced at the nameplate on the office door for the twentieth time. She rubbed her swollen hands.

  Cyrus Tweel. Interim Section Chief.

  It gnawed at her gut. She could have been a section chief one day. She’d often thought about it. It was just part of the natural progression of the career path. But she wouldn’t have wanted it under these circumstances. Still, that was how things happened sometimes. Usually people moved on. Sometimes they just died. In the case of Ted, he’d been murdered. She couldn’t help but think there was a greater design to it. Deanne had made a strong hint about it. Now Cyrus was in place. Her eyes glided over to Smoke.

  How can he always be so relaxed? He’s going back to prison.

  He looked over, and his face lit up in a pleasant expression. He turned back to his magazine. He’d made a confession to her. A deep one. She’d rejected it without any kind of good reason. “Love isn’t a convenience. It’s a commitment.” That’s what her mother Sally always said. Sid wanted Smoke, though. At least she thought she did, but she resisted. Every time he went back into the system, it tore her up a little more. She wasn’t being selfish. She just couldn’t commit to that. She scooted over toward him.

  “Hi,” she said.

  He put the magazine down. “Hey, Sid, what’s up?”

  “Something’s been eating at me.”

  His handsome, dark eyes widened a little.

  She continued. “How’d you wind up in the trunk?”

  His brightness dimmed. “I’m a hero. I had to be where I had to be.”

  “Huh,” she said. “So, you’re a hero. Sure, I guess I should have known that. Makes perfect sense. We’re all about to die and you pop up out of the trunk like a jack-in-the-box.”

  “More like a Smoke-in-the-box,” he corrected.

  “Maybe more like a jack-ass-in-the-box.”

  Jane stopped typing.

  Smoke bobbed his chin. “If you say so.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, that wasn’t right. I just—”

  Ted’s office door popped open. Rebecca, dressed in a skinny business suit and high heels, exited. Her cheeks were flushed red. She glared at Smoke and Sid as she stormed by.

  I hope that psycho got what she deserved. The electric chair, perhaps. Bzzt!

  Cyrus stuck his head out. His entire forehead had a white bandage taped over it. “Come on in, you two.”

  Inside they went, and Cyrus closed the door behind them. “Have a seat.”

  One of the three chairs in front of the desk was already filled. A man sat in the chair on the right. He was older, wrinkle faced, with soft brown hair and wearing a light-grey suit. His eyes were saggy but with a deep intelligence behind them. He held out a pack of Big Red gum. “Help yourself,” he said in an old, Southern voice.

  “No thanks,” Sid said, holding up her hand. She took the middle chair.

  “Sure,” Smoke said, taking a stick.

  “I’m Leroy Sullivan. One of the them in they.” He unwrapped a piece of gum and stuck it in his mouth. He placed the pack in his jacket pocket, revealing an early model 1911 pistol. An old Army issue. “We are impressed. With both of you.”

  He didn’t say anything after that. He just stared at them, back and forth, with soft blue eyes.

  Sidney felt like a schoolgirl on pins and needles. She rubbed her hands on her thighs. She jutted her chin out and said, “Thank you?”

  “Heh,” Leroy said. “Well, keep up the good work. I’ll be in touch.” He pushed himself out of his chair and extended his hand to Sid.

  She shook it. His grip was gentle but with iron behind it.

  Leroy shook Smoke’s hand after hers, gave Cyrus a nod, and departed the room.

  Sidney stiffened at Cyrus. “What was that?”

  “One of the most powerful people in Washington, DC,” Cyrus said. He gave a little shrug. “I think. Anyway,” he pulled out a black file thicker than a Bible and dropped it on the desk, “he’s one of the men behind the Black Slate.” He nodded his chin. “Seems li
ke there’s an awful lot of people on the Black Slate.”

  “So …” she said.

  “They still want you on as a liaison.” His eyes drifted up at Smoke. He rubbed his chin. “And you, too.”

  There was an awkward pause after that. Then Cyrus produced another document and slid it over the desk to Smoke. “And you can’t be both a liaison and a prisoner.”

  Smoke picked up the paper and started to read. Sid leaned over to see it, but Smoke turned away. “I’m pardoned.” He glanced up at Cyrus. “A free man?”

  Cyrus nodded. “Just don’t go on any big vacations. Either of you. We’ll be in touch.”

  “But I haven’t agreed to anything,” Sidney said. She was still thinking about Megan.

  “You’ll agree. Now get out of here. We’ll sort out all the details later. I’ve got another meeting at three.” He glared at them. “Adios.”

  Smoke and Sid made it all the way out into the parking lot without saying a word. She swore there was a little bounce in his step. Maybe there was in hers, too, and her heart was racing. Smoke was free.

  Inside the parking garage, they both stopped behind her rental car.

  “I guess I’ll see you around,” Smoke said. He fingered one of the bullet holes in the quarter panel. “I hope you got the damage waiver.”

  Sid draped her long arms over his neck and said, “Shut up and kiss me.”

  He took her by the waist and pulled her lips up to his, and they both settled in for a long, passionate kiss.

  Epilogue

  It was dinnertime a day later. Sid, Smoke, and Megan were at another one of Smoke’s chosen diners. Megan was all smiles from ear to ear. The entire table was filled with food. Greasy hamburgers that half soaked the bun. Chocolate milkshakes in tall glasses with whipped cream and a cherry on top. Megan had whipped cream on her nose, and Sid was laughing. Smoke stuck his nose in his. Megan cracked up.

  “You two need to stop it,” Sid said, wiping off Megan’s nose. “You’re supposed to eat it, not wear it.”