Shit. If I tell her what’s going on she’ll freak out.
“Hey,” James rumbled.
Shay yawned on the other end. “You know what I realized today?”
“What?” He did a quick check of his mirrors for tails. Showing up at the Black Sun and placing a bet might have given some idiots ideas about taking him on. He didn’t spot anyone, though.
“I learned why I’m a tomb raider and not an archaeologist. I don’t mean a field archaeologist, I mean the real-deal kind I tell all my friends I am.”
James changed lanes. He had only a few more blocks until the barbeque place. “What do you mean?”
“Real archaeology is a lot of research, which I do already, but it’s also a lot of digging in the dirt. More shovels than magic, and that shit is tiring.”
He chuckled. “Your current job not exciting enough?”
“Something like that.” Shay sighed. “But enough about me. I want to talk about you.”
“What about me?”
Movement caught James attention, but it was just a man in a Statue of Liberty costume spinning a large arrow sign declaring a liquidation sale at a furniture store.
“You having any trouble with the Harriken?” Shay inquired.
James grunted. “No Harriken left.”
“Gangs? Mafia? Drow? Experimental dark mutants?”
He was closer now. He could practically smell the barbeque. “Nope, nope, nope, and nope.”
Yeah, Lars Hansen isn’t any of those things, so it’s not like I’m lying.
Shay let out a sigh of relief. “Glad to hear you’re not gonna try to get yourself killed when I’m gone. I can’t always trust you to not do that.”
James slowed to turn into the parking lot of the barbeque place, Jose’s Grill. “I never ‘try to get myself killed,’ and I haven’t been killed yet. Hell, I’ve died fewer times than you.”
The tomb raider snorted. “Very funny. Okay, sounds good. If anything happens, let me know.”
“Will do.”
“I love you, you know.”
James grunted. “Same here.” He parked the F-350 and killed the engine.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. Shay can never know about this Bounty Hunter Beat-Down Challenge.
15
James eyed the tied-up plastic bag containing his extra order of ribs as he started the F-350 and prepared to pull out of the parking lot. Jose’s ribs had satisfied him enough that he wanted to relive the meal the next morning, or maybe even later that night.
For all I know, I might have to go kick that bounty’s ass tonight. Nice to have a little pre-game meal.
His phone rang, and he frowned when the caller ID showed Zoe’s name.
James picked up the phone. “Hey, Zoe.”
“It’s my favorite flame,” the witch purred. She giggled. “Sorry. I was doing some rather potent magic earlier. I’m a bit drunk even by my standards.”
James lowered the phone and turned on speakerphone. He could drive and talk well enough at the same time.
“What’s going on, Zoe?”
“Recipe tweaking.”
James backed his truck out of the parking space and turned to exit the lot. “What do you mean?”
“For your potions, silly. You see, the problem is that there’s something special about you. That’s always made preparing potions for you more complicated than normal.”
You don’t know the half of it.
James turned onto the street. “Yeah, so? You’ve told me that before. I’ve never had any problems with your potions. Why did you need to tweak them?”
“Oh, I get that, but I’ve been thinking I can make them even better, and now I have. You could probably lose an arm and reconnect it with the help of one of them now. I’m rather good at what I do, if I do say so myself.”
James snorted and joined the flow of street traffic. “Let’s just say I’m not gonna try that shit anytime soon, and I’m still not sure if you tweaking the formula is a good thing or a bad thing.”
Shit. I wonder if tweaking the formula’s gonna mess anything up with the amulet. Hell of a time to find out.
“It’s an excellent thing, I assure you.” Zoe let out a merry laugh. “I’m eager for you to try them out soon. Not that I want you to hurt yourself, but I’m curious.”
James grunted. “I’ve got…something coming up anyway. How about I stop by tomorrow morning to pick up a six-pack?”
Zoe gasped. “Six? Are you planning to destroy a city, James?”
“Nah. If everything goes right, I won’t be anywhere near a city. Just got a nasty bounty to take out, and everyone keeps telling me to be careful and prepared and shit. I’m trying to take that advice to heart.”
The loud sound of the witch clapping came over the line. “Okay. I’ve only got a few ready, so I’ll have to spend some time tonight working. But I’m more than happy to do it. Talk to you later.”
“Hey, you don’t—”
The potions witch hung up before James could finish the sentence.
He shrugged and accelerated. As long as the bounty didn’t call him out tonight, he’d be fine.
James scrubbed at his teeth with his toothbrush. The amulet sat on the side of his sink, still attached to the metal spacer. He stared at it, half-expecting an eye to open on it.
Fuck. It’ll be kind of creepy sleeping next to this thing. I wonder if I should give it a name other than Whispering Amulet of Doom.
James finished brushing his teeth and rinsed. He’d made a promise to Alison, but that didn’t mean he was ready to accept the amulet as part of his daily routine. He could keep it with him, though.
He snatched up the amulet and headed toward his bed.
House feels empty without Shay and Alison here. Then again, don’t know what Shay would say about the amulet. Probably tell me to call it Whispy Doom or something.
He chuckled and slid the amulet underneath his pillow.
“Don’t fuck up my dreams, asshole. I need to concentrate for the next few days.”
As if responding to his words, his phone rang. James reached over to the nightstand, expecting Shay. The call was from a blocked number.
He glared at the pillow. “You better not be fucking calling me to whisper at me.” He tapped the phone to answer. “Who the fuck is this?”
A feminine snort sounded on the other end. “You’re an asshole half the time I call, Mr. Brownstone,” Heather responded. “Just thought I’d point that out.”
James grunted. “Oh, well, give me a head’s up that it’s you rather than this blocked-number shit. It’s not like you’re the only one who calls me and hides their number.”
“Oh, know some other hackers?”
“Yeah, but it’s more like bounties and criminals who like to threaten me.” James sat on the edge of the bed. “Shit gets annoying.”
“Brave souls.”
“Stupid fuckers, but it’s all perspective.” James shifted the phone. “It’s kind of late. I haven’t gotten any more Parkour Penny alerts, so what’s this about?”
Heather sighed.
James hadn’t expected any more videos of Parkour Penny given that Shay was out of town, but maybe the hacker had turned up something new she hadn’t found before.
“I’m in a little bind,” she explained after another sigh. “And I think I need help. Your kind of help.”
“We don’t know each other well enough to work on favors, so unless this involves a bounty, I don’t know that I’m interested.” James frowned and flipped up his pillow. The amulet still sat there. It hadn’t crawled away.
Heather let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, well, that’s not a problem. Because that’s exactly what I have after me—a lovely bounty you could smack around and take into a local police department for a fine monetary reward.”
The bounty hunter dropped the pillow. “Okay, I’m listening. What happened?”
James figured the bounty couldn’t be anything high-level. Probably a one,
maybe a three if he were connected to organized crime or a terrorist group.
“When I was poking into the systems of that crazy guy in San Gabriel Valley, someone else was poking around, too. I thought they were amateurs, but they were better than I expected and I tipped them off that someone else was there.”
“And they’re after you?” James frowned.
“They’re poking around. They haven’t found me yet. I did a little digging and found that the hacker’s associated with a team of artifact thieves. He’s a merc, but he’s a good merc. I guess that explains why they were looking into Schwartz. I also know that the head guy of the group has been asking around on forums about Schwartz and hacking. I figure if the head guy goes down, the merc hacker will wander off.”
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 his 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.
The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus Page 32
