Rejected By Heaven: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 2)

by Michael Anderle

  Shay opened her mouth to make it clear she was serious about delivering the pain, but she hesitated and laughed instead as she leaned back. “Just sayin’!”

  All her time around Brownstone and Smite-Williams lately had made her almost forget that most people didn’t know what sort of work she was involved in. The more random men she went around beating up, the more likely she’d attract the wrong sort of attention. The lethal kind.

  She was just about to add another comment when two handsome guys in their mid-twenties strolled up to their table. Their tight short-sleeve shirts showed off their toned arms and chests, but they didn’t have Brownstone’s muscle, even though they were a few inches taller than him.

  Stop it. Stop thinking about him that way. Fucking traitor mind. Brownstone is just a job partner, nothing more. Well, a friend. But just that.

  I think.

  “Hey, ladies!” The first man flashed a smile so bright it had to be the result of either tooth whitening or magic. “I’m Jason,” he pointed to his friend, “and this is Patrick. We saw you lovely angels over here, and thought we’d ask if anyone was interested in dancing?”

  Shay resisted a snarky rejoinder. Just because she wasn’t interested in the guys didn’t mean Janelle or Bella might not want to have fun. She hoped those smooth operators understood they’d better keep their hands off her ass if they didn’t want their own handed to them.

  All the women at the table exchanged glances, but Bella was the one who finally responded.

  “Sorry, guys. We’re having some girl talk.”

  Jason shrugged. “No problem, ladies. We’ll be here another couple of hours if you change your minds.” He and his friend both nodded and headed back into the massive throng clogging the dance floor.

  Shay watched them walk away, trying to push down her suspicions.

  Guys were supposed to approach women in clubs, and they were a good-looking group of girls.

  Kara took a sip of her drink and peered at Shay.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” She thought she’d kept her face in check, but maybe some of her suspicion had leaked through.

  “We’ve all been talking about our men,” Kara explained, “but what about you, Shay? Hmm? Anyone special we should know about? A new boyfriend? You never talk about your love life. You can’t be so busy digging up the past that you can’t find yourself a future.”

  Damn it.

  The smart play would have been to make up a fictional boyfriend—only to conveniently break up before she had to introduce him to any of her friends— but Shay wasn’t creative enough to come up with a decent lie about a man on the spot.

  Lying about herself was easy. Lying about made-up boyfriends was not.

  Shay shifted in her seat. Now she wished she’d drunk some booze. “I… I don’t have a new boyfriend or anything, just a new guy friend.” She winced.

  She’d not intended to say anything about Brownstone, but the damn man had set up shop in her head. Maybe it was inevitable.

  A hunter’s gleam appeared in Kara’s eyes. “So, what…you’re saying he’s not a boy?”

  “He’s a boy. Well, a man. Maybe too much of a man.” Shay laughed.

  Kara exchanged glances with the other women. “What do you mean by that?”

  “He’s just not into me, or, as far as I can tell, women. He’s an interesting guy, and, uh, we’ve worked together a few times. I’ve never seen him around any women, or much interested in women. I asked him if he was gay, and he said he wasn’t, but I’m pretty sure he’s in the closet and just doesn’t know it...or something.” She rubbed the back of her neck, wondering if it was okay that she was sharing Brownstone’s personal business, even if it overlapped with hers.

  Kara laughed. “Oh, girlfriend, that’s perfect.” She had a huge grin on her face.

  Shay blinked. “Perfect? How is it perfect that the guy’s gay and not into me?” She waved her hands. “Not saying I’m into him or anything, just that, you know, if I were, it wouldn’t be perfect that he was gay. I’m hot, but I’m not so conceited that I think I can turn a gay man straight.”

  “You’re not thinking of the side benefits.” Kara shrugged. “Seriously.”

  “’Side benefits?’ Like what?”

  “All the delicious eye candy without any of the pawing. Hell, I had a gay guy friend back in college, and we’d cuddle up and watch romcoms together. I’ve never been able to get any of my boyfriends to do that.” Kara nodded, wearing a satisfied smile on her face.

  A harsh laugh erupted from Shay. “There are no romcoms in this guy’s movie list, trust me. I think he’d explode if he had to watch a romcom. He’s more into barbecue, action movies, and kicking ass.”

  “Definitely a closet case,” Janelle declared, and Bella and Kara nodded in agreement.

  “You haven’t even met him!” Shay was confused about why she felt the need to defend Brownstone’s sexuality. “I think he is, but maybe I’m wrong. Shouldn’t you all be talking me down?”

  “Does he clean?” Kara asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah, he’s a neat freak, and OCD about organization. It was a bit intimidating.”

  “He’s gay,” her friends chorused.

  “You think so?” Shay asked doubtfully, unsure if their confirmation made her feel better or worse about the situation with Brownstone.

  Bella raised an eyebrow. “Yep. He’s overcompensating with all that barbecue and action-movie stuff. Let me ask you one question: has the guy ever hit on you? At all?”

  Shay shook her head.

  “You’re hot, Shay. If the guy’s not hitting on you and he’s doing all that other stuff, he’s gay. I’m like ninety-ninety percent certain.”

  “I thought so,” she mumbled. “Good to hear someone tell me I’m not crazy.”

  “Sorry.” Bella glanced into the crowd. “Don’t mean to confirm your fears and run, but do you mind if I go dance with those guys? They were nice on the eyes.”

  “I wanted to take a shot too,” Janelle said. “I need to get back in the saddle after that crap with Darius.”

  Shay pulled out her phone to check the time. “Sure. I have an early day tomorrow anyway. I’d better get going.” She turned toward Kara. “Are you going to be all right by yourself?”

  She grinned. “I’ll just go dancing with them and the guys.”

  Shay pulled each of her friends in for a hug. “Thanks for the fun, girls. It’s been too long, and it’s nice to not deal with so much testosterone.”

  “Archaeologists are really that brotastic?” Kara wondered.

  Shay stopped herself from grimacing. She’d slipped up. This was one of the reasons why she wanted to spend time with friends, but not too much time. They would never understand her world.

  “Yeah, you know…men. They always find a way to beat their chests.” She did her best imitation of a Brownstone grunt. “Me archaeologist. Me find more bones than you.”

  The girls all laughed.

  A good lie always went down smoother with some humor.

  “Don’t let those bastards at the university work you too hard,” Bella suggested with a wink.

  “I won’t.”

  Shay’s playtime was over. Tomorrow she needed to start her search for the Green Dragon Crescent Blade.

  The police cruiser barreled down the streets, lights flashing but siren silent. Dispatch had just reported a 415 followed by a possible 240: disturbance and possible assault with a deadly weapon at a bar near their patrol route.

  Officer Santos, the driver, shook his head. “What’s the report say again? That address sounds like the Black Sun.”

  His partner Johansen peered at the dispatch report on the cruiser’s central display. “That’s because it is the Black Sun.”

  Santos grimaced. “Shit. Maybe we should slow down.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s the fucking Black Sun. Why the hell are we going to stop them? Anyone in there is an asshole criminal, and they can all
kill each other for all I care. They won’t even want our help, so we’re going to risk our lives so some scumbags can shoot us in the back?”

  Johansen tapped the screen to bring up more information. “Nope, you’re wrong.”

  “Nope?” Santos spared a glance his partner’s way. “How am I wrong?”

  “The call was from the owner. He specifically said he wanted the fight broken up by the police.”

  “Since when does that scumbag wants cops to help him? What else does the dispatch report say?”

  Johansen laughed. “I can’t believe this shit. Listen to this… ‘Additional information: Class Six bounty hunter onsite: Brownstone, James. Jordan Adams, aka ‘King Pyro,’ level-four bounty onsite.”

  “Oh, shit. Damn it!” Santos sucked in a deep breath. “I can’t believe this.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “The Granite Ghost is taking on King Pyro? I wish I had some popcorn.”

  They closed on the bar just in time to see the front door explode in a shower of burning wooden fragments.

  “What the hell?” Santos yelled.

  A body flew through the burning hole.

  11

  James stepped into the Black Sun and glanced over his shoulder at the bar. Tyler stood there with a scowl on his face and his arms crossed.

  “Fucking Brownstone!” the bartender yelled. “Don’t tear up my place. Doors aren’t cheap.”

  “I’ll pay for the door,” the bounty hunter said. “At least now the fight’s outside, right?” He shrugged and offered a playful grin. “Unless you want me to bring him back in here?”

  “Just keep it away from here.” Tyler watched Brownstone step out before mumbling, “Fucking prick.”

  King Pyro hopped up and dusted off his shoulders. “You got in a good hit, Brownstone, I’ll give you that.” He slapped a hand over his chest. “But I’m still moving. You see, the only chance you had of winning was knocking my ass out with your first hit. Now you’re going to die, and I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

  “You’re only still moving because I didn’t hit you all that hard. I can’t risk killing you, since I want the money. This isn’t for fun.”

  The other man snorted. “You think you’re all that, Brownstone? You think you’re big shit?”

  “I know I’m bigger shit than you. You’re nothing more than a pathetic thief who thinks he’s special because he’s a living lighter.”

  “No,” King Pyro shouted, thrusting his hands into the air. “I’m the motherfucking KING of Los Angeles now. I’m a god, and I’m going to kill you to make a point to all the other people strutting around thinking they are badasses. You mess with the king,” he jerked a thumb at himself, “you burn.”

  A police cruiser screeched to a halt in the street and two cops hopped out, guns drawn, but stayed behind their doors.

  James couldn’t blame them for not rushing in. Two street cops wouldn’t last thirty seconds against a level-four bounty. An AET team was probably already on its way.

  Anti-Enhanced Threat teams might still be not all that common, but for the fortunate cities and departments that could afford them, the members had the training and the gear to handle some of the deadlier magical threats that had popped up in the last two decades.

  The clock was ticking. If James wanted his money, he needed to take down King Pyro before the AET team showed up. Otherwise he’d just be a guy who had to pay for an asshole’s door.

  James charged toward the bounty and a football-sized fireball erupted from the man’s left hand, narrowly missing the bounty hunter’s head. He closed the distance and launched a left hook, sending King Pyro stumbling back with a grunt.

  “Congrats on not getting knocked out already, asshole.” The bounty hunter shook out his hand. King Pyro was a lot stronger than he looked—and he looked pretty damn strong. Not that James was worried. He’d expected a level four to be a little challenging. It’d just make things more fun.

  “You know what I’ve figured out?” James asked, keeping his attention on the man’s hands as he circled the flame master.

  King Pyro grinned. “What, that you’re going to die screaming? That you’re going to shit yourself while you’re begging me to finish you off and end the pain?”

  “Nope. That it takes you too damn long to really get the heat going.” James sprinted forward, slamming his shoulder into his opponent’s chest and sending the criminal reeling backward.

  King Pyro threw two more fireballs as he fell. One missed James entirely, instead slamming into the door of some poor sucker’s Kia and scorching it, and the other clipped the bounty hunter’s shoulder.

  James pivoted to take cover behind a car, pulling off his leather jacket, which now sported a new hole. His skin stung a little, but his jacket and shirt seemed to have taken most of the damage. He still didn’t regret not bringing the necklace.

  I can handle this dick without that messed-up magical shit.

  “I really liked that jacket, asshole,” James ground out. “Guess I’ll have to use your bounty to buy a new one. Gonna have to dish out a little payback, though.”

  A football-sized fireball nearly winged him as it zoomed past and exploded against a nearby chain-link fence, reducing the metal to dripping molten liquid.

  James risked a glance around the corner and saw that the man had another fireball ready.

  “They told me all these stories about how badass you are,” King Pyro shouted. “But you’re just another bitch in the end, aren’t you, Brownstone? Hiding because you know you can’t handle royalty. A royal god, yeah!”

  What a fucking dipshit. I knew a guy with a nickname like that was going to be a fucking idiot.

  James resisted pulling his gun. He needed the man alive to collect the bounty, after all.

  He sprinted away from his hiding place, but not directly toward King Pyro. Two more fireballs zipped past him, exploding against the ground and sending out waves of heat. An abrupt change of direction sent him barreling toward the criminal.

  King Pyro raised his flame-covered hands. James threw a quick, low punch into the man’s stomach, then followed up with another to his mouth. The other man grunted under the blows and fell back, but he still managed to sweep out with a burning hand.

  Pain spiked from the bounty hunter’s arm. The smell of his sizzling flesh filled the air, which was just enough to distract him.

  His enemy hopped off the ground and wiped some blood from his mouth. “Bet that hurts, doesn’t it? I’ve got a lot more coming. Ever wanted to see a cremation up close and personal? Once you see it, it’s kind of a rush. Like a fucking drug, bitch. Better than heroin or dust, that’s for sure.”

  “I’ve had worse.” James shrugged. “You know, the reports all got your powers wrong.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Your real power is boring people to death with your bullshit speeches.”

  King Pyro laughed. “You don’t even get it. I’m just playing with you. You’re going to burn, Brownstone, and then you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to track down everyone you love and burn them to ash. Got a kid, Brownstone? Got a woman? They’ll die in fire screaming your name. Fuck, I’ll ash all the plants in your house just to make an example out of you.”

  Get ready to say hi to the Devil for me, asshole.

  The criminal was still laughing when James charged again. The bounty hunter’s pulse pounded in his ears as he slammed his fist into Pyro’s face again, this time at full strength. The other man soared into the air.

  James tackled him before he landed. Pyro’s entire body burst into flames, but the bounty hunter ignored the heat and stinging pain. He slammed the man’s head several times against the concrete, then hammered away with both fists. The flames died out.

  The bounty hunter barely could see the man in front of him as he continued pulverizing him. Instead, James could only see Leeroy whimpering and Alison screaming. An image of Shay lying dead, burned beyond recognition, passed
through his head.

  “I’ll fucking kill you, you piece of shit,” James roared. He slammed another fist into the barely conscious criminal. “You’re dead.”

  “Brownstone, stand down,” a distant voice yelled.

  The bounty hunter stood and then slammed his foot into King Pyro, sending the man into the windshield of a truck. He growled and stomped toward the bounty.

  “Brownstone, stand down,” the voice yelled again.

  James realized it wasn’t that distant. He spun, his pulse still deafening. He was ready to kick more ass. If King Pyro had brought friends, they were going down too.

  The two street cops from before had closed on him. They didn’t have their guns out.

  In the sky, four LAPD-marked tactical drones armed with stun cannons whirred overhead, and an armored van was parked down the street.

  Six figures clad in heavy black armor rushed toward him, a couple with stun guns and the others with assault rifles. Twelve red circles glowed in the darkness from the tactical lenses of the men. The rest of their faces remained covered by their helmets. LA AET was emblazoned across their chest in huge white letters.

  James took a deep breath and stepped away from the groaning King Pyro. If the man had been normal, he’d have already been dead—which was about where the bounty hunter wanted him after the asshole’s threat.

  “I want the fucking credit. I took him down before AET showed up.” He glanced at King Pyro and the smashed window. “And I’ll pay for the window out of my bounty.”

  One of the street cops nodded, holding up his hands in a placating manner like Brownstone was some vicious dog about to attack. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call it in, Brownstone. Let AET secure him from here.”

  The bounty hunter took a single step toward King Pyro and the drones pivoted, aiming their stun cannons at him.

  “You even think about touching anyone I love,” James warned, his voice full of lethal intent, “and I will find you, no matter where you are or what fucking rock you’re hiding under. You could run to fucking Oriceran, and I’d go there. And I’d find you and wait until you were sleeping and rip your head off and shit down your throat.”