James stood. He was sitting on Shay’s side, and something about that made him uncomfortable. He began making his way around the bed.
“Artifact thieves?” he asked. “That means they have magic?”
“Best I can tell, they’re ruthless but not that good. This artifact thief thing is a new career path for them. The main guy, Eddie Green, is a level three. He’s got a couple of buddies he hangs out with who are level twos. Eddie’s a piece of work, though. Nasty guy, multiple murders.” Heather’s voice quivered as she delivered the last sentence.
James made his way to his side of the bed and sat. “You sound pretty freaked.”
Heather scoffed. “What? You expected me not to be freaked?”
“You don’t seem all that easy to scare.”
The hacker let out a long sigh. “Normally, I wouldn’t be.”
“What’s different about this time?” James laid his head on his amulet-concealing pillow.
The silence dragged on for a long moment before Heather finally answered, “I’m not scared for me. I’m scared for my four-year-old son, Mr. Brownstone.”
The bounty hunter bolted upright. “You have a son?”
Shit. I thought she was just some kid playing around like Peyton.
“Yeah, I have a son. It’s not like they’ve tagged me directly, but they are still looking around, and just my luck, the assholes are based out of my city. I’ve found some stuff on the dark web that makes me think Green blames me for him losing out on an artifact haul.”
James snorted. “Like the assholes were gonna get anything from Schwartz. They wouldn’t have made it past his front gate.”
“I know, right? But it doesn’t matter. I can’t take the risk of someone coming after me and my son getting caught in the crossfire. So I’m asking you, Mr. Brownstone, to do your thing. Not a favor, just come and take down some bounties. If I know you’re coming, I can leak enough information to get them somewhere easy for you to pick off.”
“Fine,” James rumbled. “But if I’m doing this, shit has to change. I’m done with this blocked number subterfuge shit. If I’m gonna be working with you, we need to know each other.”
“Fair enough. I’m willing to meet you face-to-face wherever you want in San Francisco.”
“San Francisco? Couldn’t you have been a little closer?” James chuckled.
“I could have been in Sweden.”
The bounty hunter snorted. “Okay, fine. You pick a place, a restaurant, and send me the address. I don’t give a shit where, as long as it isn’t some rabbit food crap. Go ahead and lay out the trail for Eddie and his buddies. If everything goes well after the meeting, I’ll clean that shit up right away.”
“I know just the place.” Heather let out a sigh of relief. “I appreciate this, Mr. Brownstone.”
“If we’re gonna trust each other, why don’t you just call me James?”
“Okay, James. I’ll send you an address in a few minutes.” She hung up.
James frowned down at the phone, wondering if the hacker might be setting him up. He shook his head. She’d already had plenty of chances to fuck him over, and it didn’t matter anyway.
He reached under the pillow and grabbed the amulet. He’d have the bad boy with him if he needed it.
Shit. Better let Shay know what I’m up to.
James tapped in a quick text.
Taking a trip tomorrow to San Francisco to capture a bounty.
His phone chimed with an immediate reply.
Level?
Just three, with two friends.
Oh. Be careful. Kind of busy, so can’t chat right now, but if you let a level three kill you I’m gonna mock you at your funeral.
I’ll keep that in mind.
James tossed his phone on the nightstand and hid the amulet under his pillow again. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
16
Tyler polished the bar with a rag in his free hand while he kept his phone to his ear with the other. “I just wanted to confirm that you’re still down for this, Lars. We can both make a lot of money, but I understand if you’re afraid of Brownstone.”
A little prodding always helped move things along.
Lars snorted on the other end. “Fuck Brownstone. This is gonna be the beat-down of the century, and he’ll be crying like a baby before I finish his ass. How are the bets coming?”
“Word is spreading. Might want to give it another day so we can get more money sloshing around.” Tyler glanced at the odds board.
“You know what? Fuck your fees.”
The info broker blinked. “Huh? You want to do it for free? Not that I’m complaining, but just don’t want you to leave money you have coming on the table.”
“Nah. Still want it, but I’m gonna stop by and place a big bet, too. Might as well take money from all the Brownstone-betting suckers after I kill his ass.” Lars grunted. “You never told me where this shit’s gonna be.”
“I’m going to send you some GPS coordinates for the exact place, but it’s going to be in the Salton Sea area.” Tyler finished his polishing and tossed his rag into a bin underneath the bar. “Not going to be a lot of rocks or places to hide out there. Is that going to be a problem? Don’t know all that much about your style.”
Lars snorted. “Fuck, no. I don’t want that shit Brownstone trying anything. I like everything nice and open. When you’re a badass, you don’t need to hide.” He gave a dark chuckle. “I’ll give him a day more, and then I’m calling out that bitch. Send those coordinates to me now, though.”
“Sure. No problem. I’ll send them in a few minutes.”
“See you tomorrow, Tyler.” Lars hung up.
Tyler shook his head and pocketed his phone. Lars might be a level five, but the bastard was getting cocky. He needed to take his opponent more seriously. If the event was a one-sided beat-down, the info broker wouldn’t be able to make a lot of money off the video.
Wonder if there’s a way I can sell merchandise? Maybe not on this fight, but for future ones. T-Shirts, maybe?
He’d decided against relying on Brownstone to set up any of the cameras. He was going to make a not-so-quick trip to the battle area to get a few cameras and drones ready. Brownstone hadn’t seemed to care when he’d texted to tell him.
Tyler stared at the odds board standing in front of the wall. He took a deep breath and rang a bell he’d purchased earlier that day and mounted above the bar.
Everyone stopped talking to look at him.
“Just got off the phone with Lars Hansen. He’s eager to get going on this. We’re going to have a Brownstone-and-Hansen fight, gentlemen. Still not too late to place bets.”
Cheers rose.
A few cops in the corner frowned at him but didn’t rise from their table.
This is a neutral place, guys. I’m not doing anything wrong here, and Maria has bet before on this kind of thing.
Not even doing anything illegal. Well, not seriously illegal. Just arranging for Brownstone to do what he always does. This isn’t any different than what the city did with the Harriken organizational bounty.
Tyler smirked. He needed to start making a list of all the things he was going to do with his winnings.
“I always forget how fucking far away this city is,” James grumbled under his breath as he took his exit off I-5. “California is too damned big.”
The Secret Sauce, the barbeque place Heather had chosen, was only ten minutes from the exit. A small comfort, but after hours on the highway, James would take it.
Her last text had told him to go to the Secret Sauce and the time, and that she would meet him there. She even insisted that “He would know her when he saw her.”
James snorted at the thought. It might be a dumbass move, but if shit got too hot he could duck into a closet and bond with his amulet.
The actual bounty was a nasty piece of work, but nothing James couldn’t handle. He doubted he’d even need to pull a weapon, assuming the asshole hadn’t gotten hi
s hands on any badass artifact since the last reports about him.
The truck hit a steep hill. James crested it, then drifted down. Only a few minutes to the restaurant.
A mirror check revealed nothing other than terrible drivers. Nailing him right after the exit would have been the best move if the whole thing were a setup.
The Secret Sauce was a small, modest building in a strip mall. James pulled into a convenient parking spot right in front of the restaurant. He checked his gun and ran his hand over the amulet before stepping out of his truck.
Guess it’s time to see what’s up.
His phone chimed with a text from Tyler.
Everything’s still on. Probably going to happen tomorrow. I got the recording equipment already set up like I told you I would, so you don’t have to worry about that.
James snorted.
Asshole probably thought I couldn’t handle it.
The bounty hunter decided to test the theory that brevity was the soul of wit with his response.
OK.
Notes of cayenne and vinegar reached James’ nose, summoning a wave of relaxation that swept through his muscles. Hard to be tense when you smelled good barbeque.
James opened the door and stepped inside. The bounty hunter surveyed the room but didn’t spot a woman. He shrugged and dropped into a chair at a table.
The small dining room had only eight tables, and the only one occupied held a large man who was going to town on brisket.
A smiling waiter pushed out of the back and headed toward his table. “We don’t get a lot of celebrities in here.” He pulled out his phone and held it up. “Mind if I get a picture, Mr. Brownstone?”
James shrugged. He’d gotten used to this sort of thing. “Knock yourself out.”
The man eating brisket glanced his way but then returned his attention to his meat.
That’s how shit should be in a barbeque place. Fuck celebrities. Barbeque’s the most important thing.
The waiter snapped a photo of James and pocketed his phone. “I’d recommend, for a man of your discerning tastes, our Trip Around the Carolinas pork platter. One-third East Carolina, one-third North, one-third South. Comes with fries.”
James shook his head. “I don’t care about the fries, but that sounds good.”
“I’ll be back soon, Mr. Brownstone.”
Twenty minutes later, James licked the sauce off his fingers. The restaurant wasn’t Jessie Rae’s, but it was hitting the spot.
The brisket commando had already left but had asked for a selfie right before his departure. James obliged, but couldn’t help but notice that he was now alone in the dining room. It was an excellent opportunity for an abrupt RPG, fireball, or machine gun attack.
James glowered through the window. Anyone daring to blow up a barbeque restaurant had better hope they found a portal to Oriceran as soon as possible. Only a few things in his life were sacred, but the church and barbeque were high on his list.
The bounty hunter returned to his trip through the Carolinas, only taking his attention off his delicious sauce-covered pork when the door opened.
A small boy who looked to be around four or five stepped inside and held the door open. A pretty twenty-something black-haired woman in a wheelchair rolled in next.
James stared at her, surprised. She rolled his way, the boy trailing her.
The bounty hunter set his most recent victim, an East Carolina rib, back on his tray. “Heather?”
The woman gave him a faint smile. “Not what you expected?”
The boy pulled up a chair beside his mother and sat, watching James.
James shrugged. “I don’t know what I expected. Maybe someone with a lot of tattoos who wore hoodies or something?” He glanced toward the boy. “Finding out about him the other day was a surprise.”
The boy reached for a rib with a question in his eyes.
James nodded. “Go ahead, kid. I’ve got plenty.”
The boy smiled and snatched a rib from the tray. Hard to hate a kid who understood the deliciousness of barbeque.
Heather sighed. “Thanks for coming, James. I wasn’t sure if you would.”
“If I didn’t want to come I would have said so. I don’t do bullshit games.” He frowned and gestured toward her legs. “But yeah, kind of surprised by that.”
“You never thought a hacker might be disabled?”
James shook his head. “Just these days, even if you can’t get something fixed by normal doctors, you can usually use magic. You still have your legs, so someone could do something for you.”
Heather sighed. “Magic isn’t that different than medicine, though. It can go wrong. Not only that, it’s expensive. I can’t risk spending a bunch of money on expensive magic that might not even work, especially when I need that money to take care of my son and…hide.”
The waiter came by, and James ordered another tray. He waited for the man to depart before continuing.
“Why hide, though? This Eddie ass…” He glanced at the boy, but the child seemed more interested in his food than James’ mouth. “You didn’t have a problem with Eddie until recently.”
Heather sighed. “Sure. I have a problem with him in that he’s looking my way, but I’ve poked around in a lot of big systems, and it’s not like my job is strictly legal. It’s better that I keep a low profile, just in case someone’s looking for me. You never know. I’m careful normally, but I let my guard down when I helped you with Schwartz. I think I let that psycho rattled me.”
“Not gonna tell you how to live your life, but I can help you with Eddie at least.”
The waiter returned with another large tray of barbeque and set it down on the table, along with more napkins.
James grabbed another rib. “So, you said you could get Eddie and his guys somewhere easy for me to catch them. Did you do that?” He took a bite. Too much cayenne this time. He frowned.
Heather nodded. “Yes. They’re at a bar a few miles from here. They are waiting for, well, me to show up, though they think I’m a guy.”
“And you’re sure they’re still there?”
She pulled out her phone and brought up a camera feed. A scarred muscular man with a buzzcut sat at a table drinking a beer. Two rough-looking men sat with him.
James set his food down, licked his fingers, and then used a napkin to wipe them off. He stood. “Make sure no one takes my tray. I don’t think this will take long.” He headed out the door.
Heather wiped away a tear, all the tension in her muscles and stomach releasing. It’d been a long time since she had screwed up so badly, let alone put her son at risk. She patted her lap and smiled at her son. “Do you want to sit with Mommy and watch the bad guys get beat up?”
“Yes, Mommy.” Her son hurried over to her.
Please, James. I know you can stop these guys.
17
James pulled into the bar’s parking lot. Judging by the cars and trucks filling the area, not many people had left in the few minutes it’d taken him to drive from the Secret Sauce to the bar.
Fuck. This isn’t the Black Sun. Don’t want to fuck this place up just because some assholes are in it.
He reached toward the amulet, but then dropped his hand. It was nice to not have to deal with the whispers, and he didn’t need that kind of power for a level three and a couple of levels twos.
No grenades. No knives. The only things other than his gun he needed to bring to the party were a few extra zip ties.
After nodding, the bounty hunter hopped out of his F-350 and strode into the crowded bar. A loud country song blared from the speakers, and more than a few men in flannel and cowboy boots looked his way before returning to their conversations and drinks. The crowd was nothing more than regular men and women having a good time and enjoying their drinks.
A few more people glanced his way and he saw recognition on the faces of some, but no one approached him.
Eddie and his goons radiated menace, which explained why the tables near t
hem were empty.
James marched over to the bartender. He wanted to make the situation clear.
The bartender looked up. “What can I get for you… Oh shit.” His eyes widened. He swallowed, and his gaze flicked toward Eddie’s table. “You’re here for them, aren’t you? Look, man, I don’t want any trouble here. We’re not a criminal bar. They just showed up here. Never seen them before.”
“Then just stay out of the way and don’t piss me off.”
The bartender nodded, and James stomped over to Eddie’s table. He needed to clear the assholes out before he could let loose.
The bounty looked up with a smug smile. “Now, lookie here. This is some shit I did not expect. The fabulous Scourge of Harriken himself in San Fran? You get around, Brownstone. Detroit, Vegas and now San Francisco.”
James grunted. “Don’t be an idiot. You know how this shit goes down, Eddie.”
The other man laughed and shrugged. His friends laughed, too.
Eddie grinned. “Do I, Brownstone? Do I really?”
“I don’t want trouble. The easy thing would be for you and your buddies here to give up. I’ll take you to the cops, and no one gets hurt.”
Eddie ran his tongue between his teeth. “No one gets hurt? Where’s the fucking fun in that?” He traced his scar with his thumb. “Sometimes you feel the most alive when you get hurt. I think I want to feel alive, but I really want you to feel alive.””
“So this isn’t gonna go down easy? You’re gonna be a dumbass?”
“No fucking way I’ll surrender to you, Brownstone.”
James shrugged. “Fine. You’re right. It’ll be more fun that way for me.” He nodded toward the door. “How about we take this outside, then?”
“Why? You afraid of all these people seeing your ass get kicked?”
Hail To The King Page 13
