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

by Craig Halloran

  Manson jammed the truck into gear, hit the gas, and stalled.

  “Really?”

  He started the engine again. “Sorry, but this clutch is jumpy.”

  “No, your driving is shitty.”

  “What do you expect? It’s been decades.” He hit the gas, the truck jumped forward, and he eased it through the gate. Lance stepped in front of the truck. Arms swinging easily and with giant strides, the colossal teen led them inside the compound. “Looks like things are going to be chippy. I hope things work out. I don’t recall seeing this many people about.”

  Sid counted men in pea coats. They stood inside the windows and were scattered in the parking lot. Each one carried an Uzi. She noted a head and a rifle barrel on top of the building. Men marched along the fence. There were man-like figures, too. Deaders. They wore clothing like men but walked like zombies. Their jaws were slack and eyes sunken as they creeped around the plaza. “And you made those things?”

  “I’m not fully responsible for the juices that keep them alive. Much was passed down through the ages. At least you know stopping their hearts stops them.”

  “Unless they have body armor on. Which, by the looks of them, they do. Morning glory. How did I ever get into this?”

  “The same way we all do. Destiny.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  A twelve-foot-high garage door rolled open, just like the ones they used in the federal buildings. Lance crossed the barrier and walked down the ramp into a huge garage bay lit up by fluorescent lights. Lance waved them over toward the middle and motioned for them to stop. Aside from the way they had come in, the only other ways out were a stairwell door and an elevator. The roll-up garage door closed behind them, sealing them inside.

  “If you haven’t prayed yet, now might be the time to do so. I respect that. We’ll be having company soon.”

  Sid mentally said a prayer. She’d done it several times since they left.

  Jesus, I know you know what you’re doing, but I’m not sure what I’m doing. Give me strength.

  The stairwell door burst open. A dozen pea coats came out. Rushing over on booted feet, they surrounded the truck. The elevator doors split open. She expected to see the brawny Kane. She got a bigger surprise. It was her.

  Manson leaned forward. “Oh my, that’s you. How quaint.”

  Samone, Sid’s shifter clone, was dressed in a sweetheart suit the same as Sid’s. She was identical in every aspect—aside from the cruel sneer on her lips. She wasn’t alone. Titus Tolliver was in full gargoyle form on one side. Swift Venison, the were-rat in slacks, was on the other. She hoped to see her sister, but there wasn’t a sign of Allison anywhere. “Are you sure Kane is here?”

  “I’m not entirely positive, but where else would he be? He’s cautious. Can you blame him? Why else send in a clone?”

  “To rattle me and Smoke.”

  “That’s what I’d do.” Manson shut off the engine, opened his door, and made his way out of the cab. Sid did too. “Package delivered,” Manson said.

  “I can see that,” Samone said. Her eyes never left Sid’s face. “At least half of it. Am I to assume the other half of this dynamic duo is inside the container?”

  “Even Houdini couldn’t make it out of this container. Plus, he’s bound up. All secure.”

  Arms crossed over her chest, Samone stood eye to eye with Sid. “We’ll see. Rexor! Thorgrim! Come!”

  Two huge men stepped out from behind the support columns of the garage and shambled over. They were the same pair of giants that had tangled with Smoke before, bigger and brawnier than Lance. Both wore heavy burnt-orange jumpsuits. Shaggy, long hair hung over their shoulders. Rexor was bearded, Thorgrim clean shaven.

  Glancing at the container, Samone said, “Bring it down.”

  In a feat of awesome power, the giants snapped the chains that held the container secure on the truck bed. Using their fingertips, they picked it up. Together, they walked it off the flatbed, shaking the metal box and laughing. “Heh-heh-heh-heh!”

  “It’s not a present. Just set it down,” Samone said.

  Thorgrim dropped his end.

  Boom!

  “I said set it down, not drop it!”

  Rexor eased down his end.

  Sid’s mind scrambled for another plan. She hadn’t expected to see so many powerful enemies in one place. She fully hadn’t expected to see the giants. Screw this, I’m not taking any chances. She bit open the supervitamin stuck in her cheek and swallowed.

  “Go ahead, Thorgrim. Open it up and see what’s inside.”

  The giant handled the metal locking bars with ease. Metal scraped over the mechanism with an annoying squeak that echoed inside the garage. Many hardened faces cringed.

  Looking at Samone with big, sad eyes, Thorgrim said in a cavernous voice, “Sorry.” He opened the doors, stooped, and peered inside, then hunkered down and crammed inside. “Hello?” His voice echoed in the chamber. He shuffled back out. “It’s empty.”

  Samone locked her fingers on Sid’s arm. “Where is he?”

  CHAPTER 25

  In the air, Vormus followed the truck from the shipyard to the Drake Compound. He waited just below the tree line when the truck came to a stop at the gate. Once the truck was through and inside the building, he made his move. Floating above the treetops, he rose higher in a huge arc and then hung suspended above the roof. He counted four men roosted on top of the building, leaning over the north, south, east, and west ledges. Each was armed with a machine gun. In the center of the roof was the chiller plant. The fans from the three refrigeration units spun at high speeds, sending gusts of wind into the air.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  He held a pack of C4 plastic explosives in his hand. Staring at it, he shook his head.

  So not me.

  Vormus’s part was to take down the heating and cooling system in hopes of damaging the server. There weren’t any guarantees it would work, but it was only part of the plan. This was also a distraction. It was Smoke’s plan. Vormus didn’t like it, but he complied.

  He drifted down like a falling feather onto the roof and nestled himself between the units, where he then stuck three packs of C4 to three different units and filled the malleable plastic with the remote detonator pins.

  “Don’t move,” a guard said. The man had crept up into his blind spot. The barrel of his gun was pointed at Vormus’s face.

  Slowly, Vormus turned. “That’s no way to treat the air conditioner repairman.”

  “You don’t look like a repairman to—”

  Vormus ripped the rifle out of the guard’s hands. He punched the man in the face, crushing his nose. The powerful blow sent the man backward, where he tripped and skipped on the roof with a loud scuffle.

  “Hey, what’s going on over there?” another guard cried out.

  Back pressed against the chiller, Vormus sensed the men closing in.

  So much for discretion.

  Vormus burst into action. Toes lifting off the roof, he glided into the blind spot of the first guard he saw. He put the man in a headlock and squeezed. The guard’s neck popped. He let the body down and moved on. He found the third guard leaning over the first guard he had punched. He swooped in and punched the man in the temple.

  The fourth guard appeared around the corner of the chiller unit. “Move a muscle and I’ll send a hundred bullets through you.”

  Vormus lifted his palms and searched out the man’s eyes.

  The guard looked right into Vormus’s hypnotizing eyes. The man’s body locked up.

  Holding the man’s gaze, the vampire floated over to him and pulled the rifle from his hands. “Normally, I’d twist your head from your shoulders, little man. Fortunately for you, I’m beginning to enjoy this covert thing. It’s not as sticky.”

  The rigid guard stood with a spacy look in his eyes.

  Vormus armed a chunk of C4 and stuck it in the man’s pea coat pocket. “I really do hate pea coats
. If I could destroy them all, I think I would.”

  “Not everyone shares your sense of style,” said a familiar voice.

  “Huh?” Vormus turned. He couldn’t hide his surprise. “Reginald. And what brings the doppelganger out on this fair night?”

  Wearing a suit, the slender salt-and-pepper-haired man looked like he’d just left a business meeting. He sucked on a cigarette. The tobacco burned bright orange. Smoke vapors drifted in the air. A silent drone hovered in the air about twenty feet above their heads. “We’ve been watching you since the moment you dropped in.” He opened up his hand. “Hand over the detonator.”

  “And fail my task in this secret mission? Oh, I couldn’t do that. I’m hoping to get a medal for it.”

  Reginald slipped off his coat. “I tell you what. Let’s make it fun.” He blew smoke out of his nostrils and set the cigarette aside with the fire still burning. “Kane and I discussed your betrayal, and he has a deal for you. A simple one. You won’t have to make all this racket and create a big mess. Beat me, and you can go in peace.” He was rolling up his sleeves. “It’s a good deal. Besides, your new little allies, Sid and Smoke, were doomed the moment they entered the building.”

  CHAPTER 26

  The grip of Samone’s hand had the power of a vise. Sid tried to pull away, but Samone held tight. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” Sid said. “He was in there when we left. Maybe the stupid giant isn’t looking hard enough.”

  “Shut up!”

  “He’s slipped us,” suggested Manson, still posing as A.V.

  Samone’s brows lifted. “Oh, so you think he slipped us? Are you stupid enough to think anything slipped by us?” Samone laughed. “We knew you were coming since the moment you left, Manson.”

  Manson’s eyes enlarged. “I beg your pardon.”

  Titus Tolliver, the gargoyle, walked up behind Manson and locked his stony fingers around his wrists. “Nice try, fool.”

  “I beg your pardon, Samone, but you’re making a big mistake. I’m A.V.”

  Samone just rolled her eyes at that. “So where are the real A.V. and Night Bird?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “It doesn’t matter. At least half the problem is solved.” Samone jerked Sid’s arm. “Let’s take you to Kane.”

  “Rough hand me again, clone, and I’ll bust you in the face,” Sid said.

  “Is that so?” Samone tugged again. “I’d like to see you try it, mortal.”

  “You will soon enough, you soulless bitch.”

  Samone smacked Sid hard in the face.

  With all eyes on the twin women, a new voice interrupted the scene. In an oddly familiar yodel, a man said, “Helloooooooooo.”

  Shoulders swiveled. Heads turned. Heels pivoted.

  Smoke stood on top of the container, armed to the teeth. Two L.A.W. rockets rested on his broad shoulders.

  Samone tossed her head back and laughed. Gloating, she said, “Smoke, surely you don’t think you can escape this complex?”

  “That depends on how reasonable we’re all willing to be. All I want is the girl,” Smoke said, aiming the rockets at Samone.

  “And if we refuse?”

  “Then your fuhrer has no prize.”

  “What?’ Samone said.

  Several faces had puzzled looks. Thorgrim and Rexor scratched their heads.

  Swift Venison, the rat man, stroked the rat tail that hung over his shoulder and chimed in. “I believe he just quoted from Raiders of the Lost Ark. Actually, I believe you both did.”

  Samone sneered at the rat man.

  “Though it was unintentional,” the rat man finished. He cackled. “Humorous though. Even I admit to enjoying how this mortal banters in the direst situations.”

  “Why don’t you come down from your perch, Smoke? Just think how much you can enjoy yourself with the both of us, hm, dearie?” She hugged Sid. “Haven’t you ever had twins before? Double your pleasure? Double your fun?”

  “Double your enjoyment?” the rat man added.

  “Will you shut up?” Samone said. “Come on now, Smokie. Let’s talk about this.”

  The giants spread out, flanking Smoke’s position.

  “Take another step, and you’re going to find out what rockets do in a confined space like this,” Smoke warned.

  Thorgrim and Rexor froze. Their heavy eyes drifted back to Samone.

  “What will you do, Smokie, drop the entire building on us? Now that would be foolish. We wouldn’t die, but you most certainly would.”

  “You know, I’m not really buying into this shifter immortality thing. I’m pretty confident you won’t survive instant disintegration.” He panned the L.A.W. rocket tubes toward the giants. “I’m quite willing to unleash a test fire. Do you behemoths want to volunteer?”

  “That mortal is crazy,” Samone said to Sid. “He’s going to get you killed.”

  “True. He loves me to death.” Sid felt the vitamin start to kick in. Yes! “Too bad you’ll never know love, Samone. Oh, what a feeling.” In a super-fast move, she reversed Samone’s arm behind her back. The clone had strength beyond her appearance, but now so did Sid. She cranked up the pressure so hard the woman’s shoulder popped out of the socket.

  “Argh!” Samone moaned. “Screw the rockets! Take them down! Take them down now!”

  The giants moved in.

  Smoke depressed the rubber triggers on the rockets.

  Sid shoved Samone aside, covered her ears, squeezed her eyes shut, and hunkered down.

  CHAPTER 27

  “Isn’t this a bit old fashioned, even for you?” Vormus said to Reginald.

  The shifters squared off.

  Reginald shrugged. “Even I need a challenge from time to time. It makes me feel alive. Isn’t that what you want, Vormus, to feel alive again? Now is your chance. You can be free to pursue your life as you want it.”

  Vormus held the detonator in his hand. His thumb toyed with the trigger. There was enough C4 to blow the entire roof off the building. It would end him, too.

  “Go ahead, Vormus. Squeeze the trigger. You stand about the same chance of surviving as you do in a fight with me.”

  “If it’s such a mismatch, why bother to fight at all?”

  “True,” Reginald replied. “But who knows, maybe you’ll get a lucky punch in.”

  “Reginald, you aren’t half as durable as you think.” He set down the trigger. “And I’m twice as strong as you realize.”

  “We’ll see about that.” The doppelganger spread his arms wide and wiggled his hands. “Let the games begin.” Reginald charged.

  Vormus caught the man’s bull rush in his chest. He tried to lock up the man’s arms.

  Reginald’s fists smacked hard into Vormus’s face with the jarring force of hammers. He overwhelmed Vormus with fists that swarmed him like bees. The superior fighter peppered him with blow after blow.

  Vormus’s body absorbed punishment that would have broken an ordinary man. He dropped to a knee.

  Reginald kicked him in the chest. The blow sent him flying into the chiller.

  Vormus shook it off. Something felt funny. He touched his nose, and it was out of place on his face. Shoving his nose back into its original position with a crunch, he said, “You’d think the nose would be tougher.” He pushed his way back up to his feet. “You’ve always been overaggressive. You can pummel me all night, but you still won’t break me.”

  “This is just a warm-up for when the real battle begins. Believe me, it’s coming. But you won’t be here to see it. Kane wants you dead once and for all.” Reginald picked up his cigarette and took a puff. Blowing the smoke through his teeth, he said, “Let’s keep dancing.” With the cigarette pinched between his fingers, he said, “Oh wait. A moment please.” Reginald reached behind the chiller.

  What is he up to now?

  The doppelganger withdrew a pair of Arabian swords. The majestically crafted steel blades’ curved edges caught the bright glow of the moonlight
, giving them a lifelike quality of their own. Reginald tossed one of the blades.

  Vormus snatched it out of the air.

  “As I understand it, you’re a much better swordsman than you are a fighter.” Reginald cut his blade through the air a few more times. “At least you had better hope so.”

  Thumbing the keen edge of the Arabian steel, Vormus said, “Your mistake. I’m much better with steel than you are as a fighter. Big mistake, Reginald. An utter catastrophe.” The blade took off a sliver of his skin when he tested it. The steel wasn’t anything ordinary. No, it was the same metal as the knives Smoke and Sid used. It could cut just about anything, even a shifter’s skin.

  “They say a shifter is only as formidable as his parts, useless as an infant when those parts are missing.” Reginald bent his knees into a stance. “Eventually, one of us is going to lose his head over this.”

  Vormus approached with confidence. “The headless shifter won’t be me.” He struck.

  The well-honed blades clashed together. Using his size and length, Vormus pushed the smaller shifter backward. Steel battered steel.

  Reginald laughed. “You’re a horrible swordsman. I can’t believe it. I knew you wouldn’t be as good as me, but with all your divine skills, I never imagined you’d be this bad.” He put Vormus on the defensive with a display of lightning-quick chops and cuts. The Arabian sword slit the side of the vampire’s ribs. Reginald jumped back, pumping a fist and screaming, “Score!”

  “No need to gloat. The fight isn’t over yet,” Vormus remarked.

  But it was over. Reginald was twice the fighter he was. Vormus had been feasting on the weak for years, but Reginald had been the shifter who hunted down any threats to the Drake, including overzealous heroes like Sid and Smoke.

  “I must say I’m disappointed. After all, you did give your brother quite the tussle back at the mansion. You actually shook him up. It makes me wonder.”

  “Perhaps you should lead the shifters,” Vormus suggested.

  “No, too much responsibility. I’m perfectly satisfied being the best at one thing.”