King Pyro laughed as he hopped to his feet with blood running down his face. “A god can’t be killed by a man, bitches!” A fireball blasted toward a nearby police cruiser, but the cops behind it fled just in time. The car exploded, raining down parts. Other officers rushed backward, even the AET members.
The bank robber followed by throwing fireball after fireball into the sky. Drones exploded and melted at their touch.
James blinked, watching the fireworks display in disbelief.
What the fuck?
For whatever reason, King Pyro’s power kept growing. Maybe the man had been right, and his near death at James’ hands had unlocked greater potential. Or perhaps the fear of death had let him dig deep.
He knew he had to end this shit soon.
The bounty hunter didn’t care about the reason, only that it was happening. If this kept up, King Pyro would become unstoppable. James wasn’t even sure how long his necklace protection would hold out.
“Everything burns in the end, Brownstone,” King Pyro shouted. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
James tilted his neck back and forth and cracked his knuckles. “They aren’t gonna stop me this time, Adams. I told you not to threaten my family, and now you’re gonna pay for that.”
“Your family, Brownstone? Don’t you get it? After I’m done with you, they’re going to die nice and slow. I’m going to roast them alive, enjoying their screams.” Pyro snorted. “I heard about what happened to your dog. That’s going to be fucking merciful compared to what I’m going to do. I hope at least a few of them are bitches. Then I can have even more fun.”
Dark whispers filled his head again. James didn’t have to know the language to understand that the amulet necklace was telling him to finish King Pyro.
The bounty hunter charged, but King Pyro didn’t even bother throwing any fireballs. Instead the man sidestepped and grabbed James’ wrist. The flames licked at the bounty hunter’s skin, burning despite the amulet’s protection. Pyro yanked him close, trying to surround him with the flames around his body.
“Burn, bitch, burn!”
“I told you,” James gritted his teeth as the pain in his wrist intensified and finished with a roar, “no one threatens my fucking family!”
The bounty hunter pivoted and slammed his free fist directly into King Pyro’s throat, and the man collapsed, gagging. A ferocious kick sent the criminal spiraling into a nearby minivan.
“You keep ending up in cars, Adams,” James remarked.
“Fuck...you,” the other man managed to grind out.
The bounty hunter grabbed the still-burning man by his throat, ignoring the pain, and slammed him headfirst into the pavement three times. Blood splattered everywhere, and the flames died out.
“Brownstone,” King Pyro, his face mangled, coughed up blood. He managed a weak chuckle. “Your eyes…”
“What about my eyes, you sonofabitch?”
“They aren’t...human. It’s okay...if a god gets beaten by a monster.” He gagged on his own blood. “You’re not human, Brownstone. Fucking...Oriceran…piece of shit.”
The amulet’s whispers grew louder.
James shook his head. “You’re not a god, Adams. You’re just a fucking criminal who got lucky, but now your luck has run out.”
He slammed his fist into the man’s head, caving in his skull, and he completed the job with another blow. He grunted as he straightened up and tried to wipe his bloodied hand off on what little remained of his pants.
It was over. King Pyro would never threaten anyone James cared about again.
“The king is dead,” he muttered. “Long live the king.”
James’ body throbbed all over, and exhaustion had long since seeped into his muscles and bones. With his adrenaline fading, he even managed to discover some new aches and pain. The whispers from the necklace had gone all but silent. He stepped away from the dead flame master, picked up his tactical harness, and limped toward his truck.
Most of the nearby cops aimed their guns at him, including the AET members.
“Drop the weapons, get on your knees, and put your hands behind your head,” shouted an AET member, his voice muffled behind his red-eyed goggled mask. He raised his rifle, ready to shoot.
The whispers in James’ head returned, insistent in tone. He wondered if the damn cursed artifact was trying to get him to fight the cops.
Is that your plan? Berserker rage-shit? Fuck you. I borrowed your power, but I’m still James Brownstone. I call the shots for my body.
“Stay back,” shouted someone else. “Brownstone’s legit.” The voice sounded familiar, but with his exhaustion and injuries James couldn’t quite place it. “Leave him alone. He’s a licensed class-six bounty hunter. There’s a valid bounty out on Jordan Adams, and that was a righteous kill. It was an official dead-or-alive hunt.”
The cops on either side of James kept their weapons trained on him, but those in front parted, providing him a clear path to his truck. He continued shuffling toward it, glancing over at an AET member hauling a rocket launcher out of the back of their armored van.
Could never be too careful, he guessed.
James managed a chuckle. He’d never been shot with a rocket launcher. He wasn’t sure if even the necklace could protect him from something like that. He grimaced as a gust of wind blew dust into some of his exposed burns.
He glanced up. More armed drones had arrived, along with helicopters, both news and police.
A few more steps and he’d be at his truck. He looked behind him. A line of cops slowly closed on him, weapons in hand. The AET members advanced behind several of their men with tactical shields. Most of the AET members carried stun rifles or assault rifles, and the rocket-launcher cop had been joined by a man with a heavy mini-gun—yet another weapon he’d never had the displeasure of personally experiencing.
Glad to see I’m worth the heavy ordnance. He could just see it. Here lies James Brownstone. Cause of death: being turned into Swiss cheese. More about the latest barbeque winner at five.
If James hadn’t been beat to hell and back he might have been able to scatter the men without too much trouble, but taking them on when he was wounded didn’t seem like a bright idea. He didn’t like the idea of hurting cops, even if they took a shot or two at him.
Ignoring the cops, the bounty hunter pulled open the door of his F-350 and climbed inside. No rockets or bullets tore into his beloved vehicle.
Please don’t shoot up my truck. It’d be hell to find this model still in good shape.
He took several deep breaths, then pulled out the energy and healing potions from the go-case in the back seat.
Thanks, Zoe.
James downed the energy potion, and after about ten seconds his exhaustion vanished.
He grunted, his mind now even more aware of his extensive wounds. “Fuck I hurt!”
After quickly pulling the stopper on the healing potion, he downed the contents. It was surprisingly sweet, unlike the bitter energy potion.
The bounty hunter waited in his seat, looking down at his burned legs as the seconds ticked away. His skin began to repair itself before his eyes and the pain lessened, becoming more bearable. His wounds and burns shrank. After about thirty seconds not a single burn or wound remained on his body, and all his pain was gone.
“Yeah, that sucked,” James muttered, reaching into the back.
He fished out another metal square from the go case and pulled the paper off the adhesive backing. With a deep breath, he yanked the amulet out of his skin.
Pain shot through his body, and the whispers became yells in his mind. Abrupt silence followed.
He held the amulet in his hand and slapped the metal square onto the back before letting it settle back onto his chest. The small army of cops outside might still decide he needed to join King Pyro in the afterlife, and now that he wasn’t wounded, he might be able to escape with the necklace’s help.
James reached into the backseat to pull out
the t-shirt, pants, underwear, and shoes he’d brought. After the burns he’d suffered in his first fight with King Pyro, he’d half-expected to end up in burning scraps of fabric. He peeled off the remains of what had once been his clothing and footwear to slide on his new duds.
“What a fucking day. Too bad I didn’t bring my Mexico coat.” He snickered. “See, Shay, if I’d kept it, it would have gotten burned.”
James thought about it for a moment.
That fucking coat had really been comfortable. He was going to buy a new one. Shay would just have to deal. He was a bounty hunter, not a male model.
He grinned at the idea.
The bounty hunter finally looked up. There were fifteen cops in front of his truck, but they didn’t have their weapons out. They all stood with their backs to the truck, except for one familiar face: Sergeant Mack.
James opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle.
“It’s okay, guys,” Mack assured them.
The cops surrounding his truck started walking away, except for Mack. The sergeant wiped some sweat off his brow.
“You know, when I started this job,” the cop began, “the worst thing we had to worry about was a terrorist with an automatic weapon or a bomb.” He motioned toward the bank. “Now that crap almost seems quaint, like the shit you’d expect from school kids.”
“Were you the one trying to get them to stand down earlier?” James said.
“Yeah.” Mack snorted. “Next time use a damned bathroom to change, Brownstone. We didn’t need to see your junk.”
James could only chuckle at the absurdity of what had just unfolded. He leaned against his truck. “Well, AET didn’t light me up, so that’s good.”
Mack shook his head. “You were going after a bounty. Fair game, and all that.”
“Is Adams dead?” James frowned. “Because if he’s not, I need to finish him off.” His voice made it clear he wouldn’t argue about it.
The cop gestured toward King Pyro’s body. Several paramedics surrounded him, chatting and gesticulating, and four of the AET team had their weapons trained on the prone form.
“Yeah, he’s dead. Kind of hard to live after having your skull caved in like that.” Mack turned back toward James. “Look, I know you played a little stunt getting the bounty going. Not even sure if it’s all that legal.”
“So what happens, then? Am I going to be hauled in?”
Mack shook his head. “Nope. At least not today. The bounty’s out there, so it doesn’t make much sense for us to arrest you. Plus, I don’t think anyone is all that hot on the idea of risking a major shoot-out with the guy who just took out King Pyro.”
“I don’t know, those AET folks seemed like they really wanted to take me on.”
The cop stepped forward and looked over his shoulder at the AET guys. “Look, I’ll be honest. Not everyone in the department likes having someone like you around.”
James grunted. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a few run-ins with cops before. It was why he’d spent years with little gifts like the donuts. He wanted them to understand that he was on their side.
Of course they were going to be afraid. Maybe Pyro was right, and he was a monster. He didn’t fucking know anymore.
Mack held up a hand. “Don’t sweat it, Brownstone. Most of us get that you’re on our side. That asshole Adams killed cops getting away, and that’s on top of everyone else he killed. You don’t worry about AET or anyone else. Me and some other guys will make sure this all goes away in terms of the paperwork. There’s just one thing I need from you.”
“What?”
The cop gestured to the ground. “Pick up all your burnt rags, or I’ll have to cite you for littering.”
The men shared a laugh.
27
A few days later, James pushed through the door of the Leanan Sídhe. The Professor had been busy since his return from Mexico, so the bounty hunter’d had no chance to meet with him and receive his payment for helping Shay retrieve the Green Dragon Crescent Blade.
He spotted Shay and the Professor in the back and made his way over there, everyone parting to provide him a path despite the heavy and raucous crowd. A few people gave him a polite nod, but no one gave him stink-eye.
The bounty hunter sat beside Shay across from the Professor. “Long time no see, Professor.”
“You’ve been busy, lad,” the Professor said with a grin. “A necromancer and a pyromancer. I’m sure there’s a joke in there, but I’m not drunk enough to figure it out yet.” He winked. “But get the music going and the booze flowing, and I’ll give it a try.”
“We’ve both been busy.” James nodded to Shay, ignoring the Professor’s antics. “Hi, Shay.”
She placed a briefcase on the table. “All three of us have been busy.”
He eyed the briefcase. “That the jade from the Green Dragon Crescent Blade?”
Shay shook her head. “When you were busy running around beating up the Flame King or Ember Boy or whoever, I ran a few errands. Kind of a follow-up to Mexico. Something I worked out with The Professor.”
James glanced between the two of them. “It was King Pyro, not the Flame King, and he didn’t have a partner.”
He noticed a bandage on the tomb raider’s arm, but decided not to press the issue. Shay would tell him whatever he needed to know. For that matter, so would the Professor. Bounty hunting and field archaeology only occasionally needed to overlap.
The Professor accepted the briefcase and set it beside him. “You’ll find your account has received a rather sizable deposit, Miz Carson.” He slid a small jewelry box to James. “And this is for you, lad. You’re lucky. It’s not always easy to find one so easy to use. It took me a lot of effort.”
James snorted. “You probably pulled it out from underneath your couch.”
“Maybe,” the Professor offered in response.
The bounty hunter opened the box. A silver necklace lay inside. It was elegant enough, but not too fancy. He cared less about the aesthetics than the magical potential.
Shay peeked over at the box, and he held it up. Her brow raised in question.
“It’s a gift for Alison,” James said, before tucking the box into a pocket. “I’ll explain later.”
“Okay,” Shay said, content to wait.
The Professor rose and gave them both a nod. “Lad, Miz Carson, I have a few things to take care of at the bar.”
“Like acquiring beers?” James asked.
“Aye, lad. Exactly. I’ve only had one tonight, and that’s just horrible, isn’t it?” The Professor winked, picked up the briefcase, and walked to the front.
Shay watched the Professor disappear into the crowd. “That parents’ weekend thing is coming up, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Want to go? I can buy you a supersonic ticket if you don’t want to spend the money. Let’s just fly out this weekend to Virginia together. I’m sure Alison would love to see you.”
Shay grinned. “Free is a very good price. Sounds like fun. It’s a date.”
James stared at her for a second, deciding not to bother asking if she was serious about her use of the word “date.”
No, don’t say anything. She’ll just say something about me being gay or some shit.
He forced a smile and rubbed the back of his neck. Women could complicate the simplest things.
Alison waved happily from a table in the lunchroom as James and Shay tried to make their way through the thick crowd of kids and parents.
“Look at this place,” James exclaimed, gazing at all the elegant wooden tables and booths. “This looks more like a fancy restaurant than a school cafeteria.”
At least he didn’t see that pretentious ferret.
“Nothing wrong with a little class.” Shay grinned. “Not everyone can survive off hole-in-the-wall barbecue. I can’t believe you drove four hours there and back for it.”
James grunted, regretting having told Shay about his trip to Jessie Rae’s. If she’d just go to the d
amn place, she’d fall in love with the flavor just as he had—along with all the contest judges.
People shouldn’t talk shit about stuff they didn’t understand.
Some teen bumped into James, and he resisted the urge to glare at him.
“Sorry!” the kid exclaimed, and scurried off.
The bounty hunter had promised Shay he wouldn’t try to intimidate anyone while they were at the school, but it was taking all his self-control not to stare down the punk kids and their parents and get them to scatter.
Crowds were annoying. Every time he was in one, he thought about the disadvantage he’d be in if a fight broke out—let alone a fight at a magic school.
The pair finally arrived at the table. Alison got up to give James a tight hug, and then followed up with Shay.
“Aunt Shay, Mr. James!”
“’Mr. James?’” He arched an eyebrow.
“Well, it’s kind of between Mr. Brownstone and James. It felt weird calling you James, because you’re old and all.”
Shay laughed.
James grunted. “I’m not old.”
The girl shrugged. “Older than me.”
“Just use ‘James.’ ‘Mr. James’ actually does makes me sound like an old man.”
Alison nodded. “Okay, James. It’s still weird, but whatever you want.”
They sat down at the table.
Shay glanced around. “How are your classes going so far? This is your first time with formal education, isn’t it?”
Alison shrugged. “They told me that in terms of my academics I’m really advanced, so lots of lower-level college courses already. They’re having me do a lot of that online.” She sighed. “If only everything could be like that.”
James and Shay exchanged glances and the bounty hunter asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Magic’s a whole different ballgame. I’ve been tested, but I’m like messing up all their normal ways of checking for that kind of thing.”
Rejected By Heaven: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 2) Page 21
