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

by Craig Halloran

  “I’m not going to lie, I could use some sleep. So, do you really think one of us is a clone? Sam or Guppy? You’d think we could tell.”

  “True. What did you think about Mal?”

  “He’s off.”

  Smoke opened up her door. “I thought so too.”

  CHAPTER 15

  “Welcome home, Eugene,” Smoke said. He opened up a single-car garage in an old neighborhood. The brick garage was at the bottom of an old abandoned colonial house that was deteriorating. Heavy growth covered the front porch. The lawn hadn’t been cut in years. The place was spooky.

  “You aren’t really going to leave me here, are you?” Eugene said.

  Smoke pushed the man into the garage. It had one single-pane window, dingy with dirt. Daylight crept in, forming pools of yellow light on the floor. He strapped Eugene to the support beam. He lifted another pair of flex cuffs to Eugene’s eyes.

  “What are you going to do with those?”

  “Seal your mouth shut. Even though we are far from many, I can’t afford to have you screaming. Anything else you’d like to tell us before we leave?”

  Turning his chin away, Eugene said, “No.”

  “Good.” Smoke secured the shifter’s mouth with the flex cuffs. He tested all the bonds to make sure they were secure. Once he finished, he took out his phone and took some pictures of Eugene. “I don’t think the Drake is going to be very happy when we let them know you told us everything. You say you can’t be killed, but I’m pretty sure shifters know how to kill shifters.”

  Toad Man slumped to the floor.

  Smoke took one last glance around the garage. He stepped outside, where Sidney waited, and closed the door. He locked it shut. “Ready to go?”

  Yawning, she said, “Ready as ever.”

  They got in the car and took off. Smoke drove. Sid leaned her seat back and closed her eyes. They were miles out of DC on some back roads that didn’t have much traffic. “So whose property was that?”

  “That’s one of the hideouts of some marks I tracked down years ago. Last I checked, they were still in prison.”

  “You keep tabs on them?”

  “Yep.”

  Sid shifted in her seat. “I can’t wait to take a shower. This second skin is starting to stink.”

  “We’re going home, but I have to make a stop first.”

  “Milkshake run?”

  Smoke smiled.

  “I knew it,” she said. With her hand on her stomach, she said, “I think I could use one too. I’m starving.” Fighting the sleep that was wanting to take over, she said, “What’s the plan?”

  “As much as I hate to say it, I think you and I might need to go it alone for a bit. We have the addresses. We just need to do our thing until we figure out who is who.”

  “So you don’t think I’m a clone? I could be Samone.”

  “No, you aren’t her. She wasn’t nearly as pretty. Besides, she had a unibrow. I just didn’t make the connection until it was too late.”

  Sid burst out laughing.

  “I thought it was a new trend or something. Like the Europeans. She had a moustache coming in too.”

  Still laughing, she hit him in the arm. “Stop it. I can’t take anymore. I’m too tired to laugh.”

  Smoke grinned. He hit the interstate ramp and gunned the gas, accelerating long enough to merge with the morning traffic. “Great Dane. So, Sid, do you think I’m a clone?”

  “No, but the thought of two of you is pretty intriguing.”

  “How so?”

  With a little smile on her lips, she shrugged. “It just is.”

  “Sounds like somebody needs a cold shower.”

  “And a hot man. Sorry, I’m so tired I’m feeling giddy.”

  “That’s fine by me. After all, you are my wife.”

  It took an hour to get to Smoke and Sid’s garage apartment. Together, they hit the shower and went to bed.

  Sid woke up in the early evening. Her stomach was queasy. She padded over to the bathroom on bare feet and closed the door. She leaned over the sink and stared into the mirror. Her eyes were tired. “I need to get more rest. I feel like I’ve been up for days.” She rinsed off her face with some cold water. Her stomach quavered. She patted her face dry with a towel and sauntered out of the bathroom as quietly as she could.

  Smoke was up. He stood in the kitchenette brewing coffee. Eyeing her, he said, “Are you okay?”

  Pushing her hair back, she replied, “Don’t I look okay?”

  “You always look okay, but you’re a little peaked.” He filled the coffee pot with water, stuck it in the coffee maker, and flipped the switch. He walked up to Sid. Placing the back of his hand on her forehead, he said, “You don’t feel hot.”

  “Gee, thanks, Mom.” She brushed his hand aside. “I’ll be fine once I get some caffeine back in my system. That vitamin really took it out of me.”

  “How’s your hand?”

  She lifted her fist. Her knuckles were swollen and scraped. Clutching her fingers in and out, she said, “Maybe a hairline fracture is causing my queasiness. Lord, I hope not. I need my shooting hand.”

  With a furrowed brow, Smoke said, “Maybe you need to check in with a doctor. When’s the last time you had a physical?”

  “Now I’m starting to think you are a clone. Are you seriously suggesting I visit some—as you like to put it—overeducated quack?”

  “I know a guy.”

  “Of course you do.” She patted his chest and made her way toward the coffee. The rich aroma aroused her senses. “Yesterday was quite a day. Not to mention the extended nocturnal activities. No, I’ll be fine.”

  A glare shined into the kitchen window. Outside, a rubber tire screeched.

  Smoke pushed the curtain aside.

  An SUV sped toward the building, swerving from side to side.

  Smoke snatched a shotgun and rushed out the front door. He took aim at the oncoming car. He fired one shot in the air. The car skidded to a halt. It was a banged-up white SUV. Someone slumped over the wheel. It was Vormus.

  CHAPTER 16

  Smoke opened the car door. Vormus fell into his arms. The disheveled vampire shifter’s clothing was torn to shreds. His face was bruised and swollen. “What happened to you?”

  Barely able to stand, Vormus pointed over his shoulder. “Get him out. Get him out.”

  Gun in hand, Sid flung open the back door.

  A little olive-skinned boy was buckled in the back seat. He appeared about ten years old. He wore a blue suit and necktie. His hair was gray and hung over his eyes. His mouth and arms were tied up.

  Vormus’s exposed skin sizzled in the sun. He staggered under the garage apartment’s canopy and inside the building.

  “Smoke, he’s got a kid in here,” she said, unbuckling the boy’s belt.

  From inside the apartment, Vormus said, “He’s not a child. He’s much older than I. Bring him inside.”

  Sid scooped the boy up in her arms. She took him inside and set him on the couch.

  Vormus leaned against the kitchen counter. Dabbing his forehead with a silk handkerchief, he said, “I never thought daylight would be my ally.”

  “What’s going on, Vormus?” Sid started tearing the tape away from the boy’s mouth. “You’re kidnapping children now?”

  “I wouldn’t do that. Again, he’s no child. He is Manson Bay, the keeper of secrets. He’s far from harmless.”

  Smoke entered the room and closed the door behind him. He said to Vormus, “So, who got the best of you?”

  “The deaders. Not to mention Titus Tolliver.”

  “The gargoyle?” Sid said.

  “Yes. Kane keeps Manson under a heavy watch. Manson is notorious for giving Kane the slip.” Vormus rubbed his jaw. “That’s why I thought he’d be in Fort Carroll. The little trickster would be secure there.”

  Manson’s eyes were like black soul-searching pearls. They searched every inch of Sid’s face. The boy’s body was clearly controll
ed by an intelligence far beyond his appearance.

  “So what do we need him for?” Sid asked. “What kind of secrets does he keep?”

  “Manson knows the cures. Not just for me but for your sister.”

  “You say that as if she’s already been changed.”

  With his eyes glued on Sid, Manson nodded. It sent chills through her.

  “I thought you said they were going to change her, not that she’d changed!” She stormed over to Vormus. “How do you know this?”

  “Manson told me.”

  “And how does he know everything?”

  “Because he is the one in charge of the process. He converted your sister from a mortal to a shifter.”

  Sid slapped Vormus across the jaw. “Don’t say that! Don’t lie!”

  Smoke moved between the two. “You said she’d have to kill someone first, right, Vormus? A loved one? Only then would the process be complete.”

  “Why are you asking him?” Sid moved over to Manson. “Let’s just ask this little twerp.” She finished ripping the tape from his mouth. “Out with it, Manson!”

  “Ow!” Manson cried out. “Geez, woman, go easy on an old man.” The child spoke as if he was a venerable eighty. “I’m all wrinkly inside, and I don’t feel anything like I look on the outside. Don’t let the appearance fool you. Heh.”

  “You’re a shifter. Shifters don’t age.”

  “No, that’s where you’re wrong, we do age. The process is just slow. Everything on earth deteriorates. It’s the second law of thermodynamics. That’s what shifters refuse to understand. They think they are immortal, but they are not.” He glanced at his surroundings. “You look like a reasonable, very fit, and attractive woman. I need to pee.” His brows clenched. “I’m at the point where it’s painful.”

  “Vormus?”

  The elegant shifter shrugged. “He’s harmless from a physical standpoint.”

  “Then why did you tie him up?”

  “I’ve kidnapped many. It’s always best to tether them with something.”

  Sid unfastened the tiny man’s bonds and led him to the bathroom. Leaving the door open, she said, “Make it quick.”

  “I certainly don’t have any desire for it to take any longer than it has to.” He pushed the door shut. “A little privacy, please.”

  “Vormus?”

  “He’s harmless.”

  She moved away from the door. “I don’t believe that. He’s a shifter, isn’t he?”

  “Point taken. But he’s mild mannered. You’ll see.”

  The commode flushed. The bathroom sink water ran. The door opened, and Manson came out. He wasn’t the same olive-skinned boy as before. Now he had a full head of straight blond hair and blue eyes. A quizzical look was on his face. “Ah, now I feel much better.” The boyish figure walked like he was in his seventies. He tried to climb on a stool by Vormus. “A little help.”

  Smoke gave him a boost into the chair.

  Manson felt Smoke’s bicep. “See, I’ll never have those. Sad, isn’t it? This body never even hit puberty, but my mind sure did. I’ve been like this since the eleventh century—you know, when King Arthur and Lancelot were around.” He winked at Sid. “I bet you thought that was only a legend, didn’t you?”

  “Thanks for the info, Benjamin Button, but I never gave it a shred of thought.”

  He shrugged. “Do you have any tea?”

  “In a minute. Tell me about my sister.”

  “Oh, Allison. Boy, that woman’s trouble. She’s side by side with Kane day and night. He’s not letting her or Megan out of his sight. They’re the bait. He’s patient. He knows you’ll come. That’s why he let all the shifters out. He’s not taking any chances when you guys come around again. Nope. He’s sinister. He always has been, but today, boy, you really screwed up his plans.”

  “What do you mean?” Sid reached into the cupboard and grabbed a box of tea bags.

  “Well, now you have me. I’m his prized possession. You see, now I’m the bait, and he will come after me.” He leaned over to Vormus. “Haven’t you told them that once the sun drops, he’ll be coming?”

  “I haven’t had the chance.”

  “Vormus, must you always be so contrary?”

  “I like contrary. It suits me. Just like this modest establishment suits them.”

  “Sounds like it’s time to gear up,” Smoke said. “How many can we expect?”

  Manson’s eyes widened. “You’re not going to wait for them here, are you? It will be a slaughter.”

  Smoke opened up an army-green footlocker set beside his computer station. Inside were two L.A.W. rockets. He said to Manson, “I’m counting on it.”

  “You really are crazy, but your maddened bravery won’t defeat them.” Manson drummed on the counter. “There aren’t enough of you. There are plenty of them. You need to hide, at least until daylight. Best to strike in the daytime.”

  “You know how to stop them, don’t you,” Sid said. “Tell us.”

  “Why? That would be to my peril.”

  Smoke pointed the light antitank weapon at the man. “Not telling us would be to your peril as well.”

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

  Smoke tapped on his computer keyboard. “We’re set. Let’s go.”

  “Go where?” Vormus asked.

  “You’ll know when we get there.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Smoke was in the passenger seat. Vormus and Manson rode in the back. Sid drove, but her head was swimming with information. She was having trouble keeping track of everything that was going on. Allison may or may not be a shifter. Megan was in danger. At least one of her friends was a clone. All of the shifters they had captured were out loose, and now that night had fallen, they were hunting them. It came down to her and Smoke against a twisted army of fiends. She couldn’t even trust her friends in the FBI. And to top everything else off, perhaps she and Smoke were shifters themselves.

  Has life always been this insane and I just didn’t see it?

  She toggled the car’s shifter on the wheel, dropping it down a gear. She pushed on the gas, accelerating into the curve.

  Vormus squished into Manson.

  “Hey, slow it down, will you? I’m not into tasting the G-forces. Get off me, vampire.”

  “I’ll ease off as soon as you start making more sense. I need to know how to stop Kane. It’s time to bring the Drake down.”

  “Again, you’re talking about my life, little lady. I’m not so eager to part with the few remaining years I have left.”

  “No, but the two of you sound like you seek redemption.”

  “I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’d think about it. Personally, I just want to stick it to Kane. He stuck me in a hole for years. I only got plucked out when he needed me.” Manson leaned over the headrest. “Sure, redemption would be nice, but I’m more on the side of vengeance. Personally, Kane is the problem. His ambition overwhelms him. He wants it all at once. You need to take him down if you can.”

  “That’s the plan. But that’s only one shifter.”

  “True, but it will disrupt all the others. A power struggle will ensue. It will buy the mortals more time. At the moment, Kane is replacing leadership with clones. It’s weakening our country’s policies on many things. Law and order will cease to exist. You’ll live in a nation of wild things. But there is a caveat. He has some clones out there, but he can’t make any more without me.”

  “How many clones are out there now?” Sid asked, fearing the answer.

  “Dozens.” Manson leaned back and peeked out the window. “So, where are we headed?”

  “Weapons cache,” Smoke said. “I sent a message out to Mal. He sent the coordinates to his latest stockpile. Shipyard. We’ve got a drive ahead of us. Are you sure you don’t have anything you want to fess up? Frankly, I tire of not getting answers to our questions. If the pair of you aren’t going to help, then we might as well drop you off right here.”

  Sid buzzed thro
ugh a green light in the heart of DC and then parked right in front of the FBI building. She put the car in park and turned around in her seat. “I’m certain the FBI will keep you two fugitives safe.”

  “You might as well turn us over to Kane,” Manson sneered. “Heh, we are fugitives, aren’t we.” He elbowed Vormus. “Fine. I’ll give you something to cut your teeth on then. I know how to kill the clones. One power source controls them all. It works like a server. It’s a pyramid, ten feet wide and ten feet tall. It glows with a life of its own. Waters run through it. It’s mysticism and technology fused together. It’s where the clones are harvested.”

  “Drake Industries?” Sid asked.

  “Hillcrest Mausoleum.”

  “Just like Toad Man said. We just didn’t know what we were looking for.”

  “What’s the security like?” Smoke asked.

  “The pea coats are thicker than pea soup,” Vormus said.

  “So you knew about this?” Sid said.

  “No, I know nothing about the clones, but I’ve been inside that place before, long ago. It’s an ordinary building with mortal workers by day, but the shifters guard it by night.”

  Sid put the car in gear and drove away, headed straight for the shipyard. She shut the engine off as soon as she made it through the gate. Everyone got out of the car. It was a cargo shipyard. Massive steel storage containers were stacked as far as the eye could see. Smoke led the way with a long, easy stride, pistols nuzzled in his palms. Both he and she had on the sweetheart suits and their goggles.

  Smoke checked his phone. His head tilted.

  Talking quietly, Sid asked, “What?”

  “We’re about thirty meters from the mark. We need to keep an eye out and see if anyone else shows up.”

  “Shifters?”

  He shrugged. “If Mal’s a clone, then they’ll know we’re here. That’s why I texted him, to draw them out.” He scanned the sky. “Who knows? They could come by land, sky, or sea.”

  “Why don’t you go after the weapons cache? You draw them out and I’ll back you up?”