James shook his head. “Is that shit supposed to be intimidating? It’s funny, more than anything. Gonna get some rubber balls to bounce at the same time? Maybe wear the same pretty bow in your hair?” He raised his hand and gestured for them to come at him. “Let’s finish this shit. I still have to kick Lars’ and the wizard’s asses.”
The brothers took a few steps to either side, their eyes narrowed. James took the opportunity to hurl two sonic grenades. The whine filled the air and both men collapsed, clutching their ears. Apparently, unlike with his amulet, their sturdiness didn’t protect them from that kind of attack.
Didn’t see that coming, did you, assholes?
James rushed over to the first brother. He yanked him up and slammed his fist into his face several times. His head snapped back, and blood spurted out, but the wounds healed. After the tenth hit, the man moaned and his eyes fluttered closed.
Guess regenerating doesn’t save you from being knocked out.
The bounty hunter tossed the man to the ground and planted his booted foot on the stomach of the other brother. He dropped knee-first, to the man’s chest, and alternated pummeling him with both fists until blood covered the bounty hunter’s shirt and harness.
James stood up. The second Winter brother was breathing but unconscious. His battered face had already begun knitting itself back together.
The bounty hunter shook out his hands. “I should use those sonic things more often. My girlfriend uses them a lot, but I’ve avoided them. I guess I just like to fucking waste people more directly or go old-school with a flashbang.” He shrugged at Lars. “All this high-tech shit can fail. I like to keep it simple.”
Lars snorted. “Fuck off, Brownstone. I’m not impressed.” He nodded to Patrick. “Fucking finish them off while they’re out. Pussies.”
“What?”
The level five narrowed his eyes at Patrick. “Or you can deal with me.”
The redheaded wizard lifted his wand, and a massive fireball grew in front of it over several seconds. James leapt to the side as the blast crashed into the downed men.
The blast wave knocked him to the ground, and after a few seconds the stench of burnt flesh filled the air. Only the charred skeletons remained of the men.
Fuck. Can’t regenerate if you don’t have a body.
James stood and stared at Lars. “Don’t you think some of your fellow criminals might have something to say about that?”
A sick grin appeared on Lars’ face. “Nah. Not like we’re in a union, fucker. I was hoping you’d kill them. It’s entertaining, and if they aren’t strong enough to take you out, who cares?” He cracked his knuckles. “But it’s time for Round Three. I’m going to enjoy killing you, Brownstone. Going to enjoy seeing the panic in your eyes as I’m fucking you up and you understand, in those last few seconds, that you’re going to die.”
The bounty hunter reached for a sonic grenade, but he was out.
Whatever. I’ll beat their asses down the old-fashioned way, then.
The amulet’s quiet whispers became strident and understandable.
Kill.
James snorted. Yeah, no argument there.
The crowd in the Black Sun winced as the fireball exploded and incinerated the Winter brothers. Tyler had been alternating camera feeds on the big screen on his wall.
The information broker shook his head and clucked his tongue. Maria was right. This was the problem with these high-level assholes. They didn’t have any respect for boundaries. Killing a guy because he came at you was one thing, but murdering him after he helped you, even if for his own reasons, was grade-A bullshit.
I hope you tear this fucker’s head off, Brownstone, and not just for the money.
Oh, yeah, the money. Almost forgot what this was about.
Tyler rushed over to the odds board and slapped it with the back of his hand. He had no idea who’d come up with the idea of adding real time odds and in-fight betting, but it was a fucking gold mine.
“There you have it, folks,” he yelled. “The odds have changed in Brownstone’s favor with the defeat of the Winters brothers and Victor. They keep wounding him, but they aren’t stopping him. The Bounty Hunter One-Man Army. The Scourge of Harriken. The Granite Ghost.”
“That’s bullshit,” a man shouted. “He didn’t kill those guys, Patrick did. That better not pay out anything.”
Tyler tapped a box on the board. “Fair enough. All these deaths categories clearly state that Brownstone has to be the one killing people or be killed, so you’re right, Patrick blowing people up doesn’t count.”
“That’s right.” The man crossed his arms and beamed a smug smile at the information broker.
“But Brownstone knocked them out.” Tyler erased a few of the boxes and started filling in new numbers. “Which means he’s not taking on as many people at once. The early Brownstone adopters are the ones who will really profit from this.”
The angry biker from before reached into his wallet to yank out even more bills. “Fuck that. I’m gonna double-down on Lars. Just because Brownstone beat some small-fry pussies don’t mean shit. Lars is a level five, and Brownstone won’t be able to win against him.” He pointed at Tyler but spoke to the crowd. “Don’t you get it? This fucker is just trying to get us to cover his dumb bets for Brownstone. He’s on Team Brownstone, and has been for a while.”
Tyler rushed up to the man and got right in his face. “Don’t you fucking dare. I’m a businessman. All I want to do is make money. I’ll take any opportunity that presents itself, whether it involves Brownstone or anyone else. As long as that bounty hunter can make me money I’ll bet on him or send bounties at him, but don’t you ever say I’m fucking Team Brownstone. I fucking hate his ass.”
I do, don’t I?
The biker grunted and shoved Tyler away. “Whatever. I’ll just take your money and make you cry that way, bitch.”
The bar owner stomped back toward the table in front of the odds board. Kathy sat there, checking through the online bets on a laptop they’d brought from the office.
Tyler slid into a chair. “I’m not on Team Brownstone,” he muttered.
This isn’t about anything but money. I only warned him because it’s a reputation thing. It’s not like I give a shit if he dies. People have to know that. If I liked Brownstone, I wouldn’t have helped send a level-five psycho at him.
Kathy snickered. “There are worse teams to be on. You’re practically business partners with the guy, and you’ve been making eyes at a cop. Just something to think about.”
Tyler’s head shot in her direction. “What are you getting at?”
“Just saying, maybe you’re less of a criminal mastermind than you think if you’re buddying up to a bounty hunter and a cop.” She shrugged. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Brownstone and Hall are better people to hang out with than psychos like Lars Hansen.”
“Maria’s the reason this place is neutral ground. What do you want me to do, tell her to piss off? I’m making a lot of money and have a lot more opportunities because it’s neutral ground. And I don’t leave money on the table.”
Kathy rolled her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, Tyler. Whatever. I’m just the employee. Ignore me, boss man.”
This is about money on the table. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“I think they are about to go at it,” a gang member in the corner shouted.
Tyler snapped his attention back to the screen. Patrick and Lars had spread out. The wizard had his wand up, and the level five was grinning at Brownstone like a hungry cat in front of a cornered mouse.
The information broker hopped up. “Get in your bets. It could last an hour, or it could be over in seconds. You don’t want to wait until it’s too late. You don’t want to lay awake tonight asking yourself, ‘Could have I made a big score off James Brownstone?’”
Several men grabbed their phones to make electronic transfers. Others grabbed their wallets.
Tyler smirked.
T
eam Brownstone. I’m not on fucking Team Brownstone. I’m on Team Greenback.
24
Lars kept circling James with a stupid grin plastered on his face. “You could just get on your knees and let me beat your ass, Brownstone. If you do, maybe I’ll make it quick. Otherwise, it’s going to be long and really, really hurt. Because I really want to see you cry and beg.”
Fuck, this guy likes to talk. He’s almost King Pyro-bad.
Patrick offered no verbal taunts, but his raised wand was more than enough threat as he circled the opposite direction.
The other guy’s too focused. That could be a problem.
James’ gaze flicked between the men. Lars was the greater threat, but the bounty hunter wasn’t sure if he could take a direct hit from the wizard’s fireball after what he’d just witnessed.
Need that fucker to clip me so you can adapt.
The amulet’s response was straightforward. Kill.
Yeah, thought you’d say that.
James grunted and kept his distance from both men. “You’re not leaving here, Lars. I might not kill you, but I’m gonna at least break your legs. Then I’ll call AET and have them pick you up. I’m sure the cops would love to send your ass to an ultra-max for what you did in Atlanta.”
“Fuck you, Brownstone. And fuck the cops. I’m not afraid of you, and I’m not afraid of them.”
The bounty hunter ducked as Patrick’s wand spat out a quick firebolt. The heat warmed his face as the solid orange-red bolt flew inches over his head.
Damn. Don’t want to take one in the face yet. Or ever.
The amulet murmured excitedly.
James ignored his partner and fired several rounds toward Patrick. The bullets bounced off and landed on the ground as molten pools.
He sprinted toward the men as Patrick continued launching firebolts. A bolt struck James in the leg and he hissed, collapsing to one knee. He tried to ignore the agony of the deep burn as he pushed himself back to his feet, the amulet murmuring and obviously excited about a new kind of attack.
Lars laughed. “That’s all you got, Brownstone? I might not even need to get involved. And here I thought I was going to have to double-team you. What a fucking disappointment. Maybe your rep is all talk.”
James fired several times at Lars, but the bullets bounced off his hardened gray skin with a spark. He holstered his weapon. This wasn’t a fight he was going to win with a gun.
Wonder where I can get a magic gun? Do I have to be a wizard to use one?
Ignoring the searing pain in his leg, the bounty hunter stalked toward Patrick.
Maybe because I can talk to you now, I trust you more. Or maybe it’s because I know how you work. Let’s show this fucker how we do things.
Patrick snorted. “See you in Hell, Brownstone.” Another firebolt blasted into James’ chest.
The intense heat burned a hole in his shirt, but rather than the searing agony he felt in his leg only a brief burning sensation passed over his skin.
The wizard blinked. “What the fuck?”
James continued advancing. “Surprised, asshole?”
A loud “Oooooh” rose from the crowd in the Black Sun when James absorbed the blast.
Tyler stared at the screen, surprised despite having bet on the bounty hunter. “Does he have some sort of anti-magic artifact?” He turned to Kathy and opened his mouth, but closed it when the doubtful biker from before rushed over.
“I need to place some bets on Brownstone,” the biker announced. He looked at the TV with panic in his eyes. “Now. I want to pull my earlier bets.”
Tyler shook his head. “That’s not how this shit works, and you know it. Don’t place bets you don’t believe in.’
“But I don’t have any more cash on me. Come on, man.”
The information broker tapped his phone on the table. “Got a bank account? Let’s do some electronic transfers. You can still hedge and earn some sweet Brownstone cash. I’m equipped to handle that.”
“Oh, yeah. Let’s do that.”
Patrick blasted Brownstone a few more times in his arms and legs. The wizard was doing a good job of destroying the bounty hunter’s clothes, but his attacks were now only leaving red spots with some minor surface burns rather than the deep tissue burn in Brownstone’s leg from the first attack.
His hands shaking, the biker fished out his phone and began furiously tapping to try to initiate a money transfer. “Come on. Come on.”
Tyler allowed himself to grin.
See, asshole? Betting against Brownstone is like betting against the sun coming up. I told you assholes before, but you didn’t listen.
Lars grunted. “What the fuck, Patrick? Kill the motherfucker.”
“I’m trying.” The wizard backpedaled. “I need a few seconds to generate a bigger attack. Keep him off me. I don’t get it. He should already be dead.”
“For fuck’s sake! Fine, I’ll fucking kill him myself. Wanted to anyway.” Lars let out a low growl and charged James.
Here it comes.
If the bounty hunter hadn’t had an injured leg, he might have been able to dodge. Instead, the literally hardened criminal slammed into James, his armored rocky skin turning him into a solid battering ram.
James grunted and stumbled back only a few feet. The pain in his leg was a lot worse than what he felt from the collision.
Something approaching surprise crossed Lars’ face. He’d obviously expected the bounty hunter to go flying.
Simple kinetic force doesn’t work much anymore, asshole. My amulet had that shit handled a long time ago.
James took the opportunity presented by the other man’s surprise to reach down and grab a healing potion. The first bottle he pulled up was already broken in half. He tossed it to the ground and grabbed the second, downing the contents just before Lars slammed into him again, this time knocking him down.
He rolled to his side, the pain in his leg lessening, and the wound sealing itself. Lars slammed an armored foot into James, launching him several feet this time, but it became clear a couple seconds later that the real point of the attack was providing a better target for the wizard.
James managed to duck, his shoulder and side taking a glancing blow from the white-hot flame. The ball exploded in front of him, knocking him down. He hissed at the mild burns now covering his body, and a few vanished from the lingering effects of the healing potion.
Patrick blinked and shook his head. “How is he still alive? This is fucking unbelievable.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, asshole,” James rumbled, and stood.
Lars laughed and clapped. “Now this is what I’m talking about. This is actually fun, and here I thought you’d die pretty quickly. Thanks for not making this shit boring as fuck, Brownstone.”
James snorted. “Oh, this isn’t the part where you go on about how my rep is all smoke and mirrors? Maybe you’re not a total fucking moron, then.”
“Nah, fucker. I believe your rep. Why do you think I brought all my friends? You’re worth it, Brownstone. Just figured it wouldn’t hurt to soften you up. Winning a fight is as much about strategy as strength.”
“So you are afraid. Thought so.”
Lars shrugged. “Sometimes it’s about just using your noggin, fucker. You’re a thug, so maybe you don’t get that. At the end of the day, you need to live to fight another day.”
James grunted. “You think that’s clever?”
“Doesn’t matter if you don’t. You’ll be fucking dead soon.”
Patrick shook his head. “There’s no way you should have been able to survive those hits.” He lifted his wand again, his arm shaking. “No way.” He took a deep breath. “You won’t survive next time. You’re dead, Brownstone.”
James charged the wizard. A firebolt missed his shoulder by a hairsbreadth. The bounty hunter yanked his K-Bar from its scorched sheath.
“A knife?” The wizard sneered. “You’ll never get that to my body, Bro—”
Patrick was
right. James didn’t get it to his body. Instead, he sliced the man’s wand in half with a stroke.
The bounty hunter didn’t get a chance for a follow-up attack since Lars grabbed him and threw him in the opposite direction. James thudded into the ground and rolled several feet before hopping back up. His K-Bar was embedded in the dirt and sand.
Kill, the amulet whispered.
I’m working on it, asshole. Without the wand, that wizard’s nothing.
Patrick was staring at his sliced wand, disbelief etched into his face. Lars snickered and backhanded the man to the ground. A sickening crunch sounded as his head hit the ground and his neck snapped.
James shook his head. “You’re one sick asshole, and I’ve run into a lot of them.”
Lars shrugged. “What can I say, fucker? I’ve got to be me, and I don’t have time for weak-ass pussies who can’t do much. He had his shot, and he couldn’t finish you. Don’t worry. You’re joining him soon.”
The two men started circling one another.
“You think you can take me after everything you’ve seen?” James asked. “You’re not just a sick asshole, you’re an arrogant prick.”
“We’ll see who the arrogant prick is. I think you’re fucking dead in the next few minutes, Brownstone.”
Shay stared at the images of the fight on her phone, her jaw tight. Peyton had accessed the Black Sun’s systems and was streaming Tyler’s camera feeds directly to her.
Damn it, James!
Her lover had been doing well so far, but he’d also only been facing weaker opponents. The psycho Lars Hansen didn’t seem even remotely concerned that the bounty hunter had gone through so many of his little helpers. Fortunately, with the help of the healing potion, James was as good as when he started the fight.
This is why you don’t agree to dumbass stunts like this, idiot.
The tomb raider delivered another few satisfying kicks to a nearby tree trunk. The pounding heart was familiar, but she wasn’t used to complete helplessness.
Shay let out a long sigh.
The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus Page 38
