The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus

by Michael Anderle

  “A sauce revolution,” declared the podcast’s host. “That’s what we’re in the middle of. Don’t let traditionalists blind you to new possibilities. All modern cuisine uses ingredients from different places. Barbeque must continue to move forward. Innovation doesn’t mean ignoring what we have. It simply means improving on it.”

  Fuck. I’m having trouble concentrating. Why? It’s not Shay. She goes out on tomb raids all the time. It’s got to be something else. This isn’t me being mopey and shit.

  His stomach knotted, and he grunted. James tapped his touchscreen to stop the podcast, a harsh realization taking over his mind.

  A year. It’d been a year, and he hadn’t even remembered. He grunted in frustration.

  Over a year since those fuckers had killed Leeroy.

  James gritted his teeth. One of his few disappointments was that he had so thoroughly destroyed the Harriken. While he didn’t fixate on the death of his dog, the few times it did drift up in his mind, his murderous intensity returned and he wished he could go find a house filled with Harriken to rip apart. Whatever Harriken remained had long since drifted to other gangs. After all, their headquarters had been destroyed during a brutal assault by James and Shay that was capped off with magical explosives.

  Maybe I should have killed all their asses sooner rather than waiting for the fuckers to keep coming at me.

  Leeroy had been one of James’ few true friends for years, someone who accepted him for what he was. He valued Father McCartney, but the man was his priest and confessor, not his friend. The priest had the responsibility of saving James’ soul, and that brought with it a certain distance.

  Although James now had more friends and family, even setting aside Father McCartney, a small hole remained in his heart. Most younger men outlived their dogs, but few had to deal with them being killed by gangsters because of something they’d done.

  I wish I could have been there that night to get those bastards right then and there. I don’t know if there’s a dog heaven, Leeroy, but I got them. I fucking got them all. They paid for what they did to you.

  James turned the corner hard, his hands tight around the wheel. He was almost to his street and his house, one that was only months old because his previous home had been destroyed by an asshole with a rocket launcher. Another thing taken from him because dumbass criminals couldn’t learn their fucking lesson.

  The situation was different now. Everyone told him so. Senator Johnston. Maria. Even Tyler. They all told him that people feared him now, so much so that a lot of high-level bounties avoided LA entirely rather than risk the wrath of the Granite Ghost, the Scourge of Harriken, the Council Slayer. The low-level scum thought he wouldn’t stoop to beating them down, but he had the agency to do that.

  Good. I want them fucking afraid. I want them all fucking afraid that I’ll show up one day in their town and put them through a fucking wall.

  His growing reputation brought frustration with it.

  If I’d had that kind of rep back then, those Harriken fuckers wouldn’t have dared touch Leeroy.

  Something darted in front of the truck, and James slammed on the brakes and swerved hard.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  No thump. Nothing but the screech of the tires until the vehicle came to a stop. His heart pounded. James didn’t mind killing people who had it coming, like asshole bounties, but killing some poor bastard who happened to run in front of his truck was different.

  I protect. That’s what I do.

  James shifted into park and threw open his door. No. It wasn’t a person—at least a person who walked on two legs. It’d been quick. Dark fur, he was sure of it, and a tail.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Please tell me I didn’t hit a dog. That’s not fucking funny. I don’t even care if it was a shifter. That’s still messed up.

  James jerked his head back and forth for any sign of a wounded animal or blood. Nothing. He started circling the truck: no dents, no blood, no paint chips. It didn’t look like he’d so much as scraped even a small animal.

  Thank God.

  He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, spotting a large form in the distance. Even in the twilight, it was clear that it was a big dog sprinting away from the area.

  James rubbed the back of his neck. If it could still run like that, he obviously hadn’t hit the animal.

  Why the fuck was the dog just wandering the streets? Its owner should take better damn care… Wait. What if it’s a stray?

  James stared after the dog as it disappeared. Leeroy had been a stray, too. Even when he wasn’t anymore, Leeroy liked to get out of the house every now and again. His escape and return had brought Alison into James’ life.

  He let out a long, weary sigh.

  Was a year enough time to mourn a lost pet? A lost best friend?

  Maybe it was time to get a new dog, but James wasn’t sure if he was ready for the responsibility of another pet.

  Fuck. It can’t be that hard. I’ve got a teenage daughter.

  After a few seconds, he grunted.

  Nah. Dogs are harder than daughters, especially when your daughter is in boarding school. Then again, she’s half-Drow.

  James shook his head and stepped back into his truck, mental pictures of different dog breeds flipping through his mind’s eye.

  Shay was right. I am mopey and shit, but I know one good way to fix that problem that won’t require any fucking thinking at all.

  His family wasn’t there to cheer him up, but it didn’t matter. There was one thing that could always bring a satisfied smile to James’ face, no matter the situation. He’d even relied on it when fleeing hordes of assassins brought on by a massive Harriken hit contract on his life.

  It’s fucking barbeque time.

  4

  The swirling portal grew from a pinpoint to a vast vortex covering half the chamber.

  He Who Hunts pointed a wispy tendril. “Go.”

  His army of misshapen monsters surged through, followed by their master and other wizards he’d summoned from distant outposts. It wasn’t as if he were completely unreasonable. He hadn’t twisted every wizard left in the employ of the Council, but the mutated men, now infused with his powerful essence, would be far more effective weapons than the few weak magic users he had allowed to retain their will.

  The wizards followed. He hadn’t told them where he found his new monsters. Perhaps they knew. He didn’t care. None dared leave, and none dared challenge him.

  He Who Hunts emerged into abandoned subway tunnels. Trash and debris littered the area and a dozen ragged, dirty humans cowered against the wall, shaking, their eyes wide, too panicked to even flee. It was too late now. Wizards and monsters blocked their escape routes on either side.

  “Who?” he rasped, “are you?”

  One of the men stumbled forward, trembling like an earthquake was occurring. “We’re nothing. We just stay here because we ain’t got nowhere else to go.”

  He Who Hunts floated closer. The man’s teeth started chattering.

  “Homeless, yes? No one to miss you, then.”

  The man’s lip quivered. “We just wanted to sleep where there ain’t no wind. Please, sir. I ain’t ever said a bad word about Oricerans. That’s what you are, right? An Oriceran?”

  He Who Hunts stopped advancing. “You could be useful. Human society has discarded you, ignored you. I could turn you into something greater.”

  The man stopped shaking and took a few deep breaths. “Something more? Y-you gonna give me some Oriceran magic?”

  He Who Hunts felt no compulsion to clarify his true origins. It amused him that the man thought he was a mere Oriceran.

  The homeless man glanced over his shoulder at the other homeless gathered. Several looked excited now, but most still wore terrified masks.

  “Magic,” He Who Hunts echoed, his voice as raspy as ever. “Life is magic. Do you know that?” He let out a hollow laugh.

  The homeless man gave a nervous chuckle and shrugged. “
I don’t know much about no magic. I-I want to learn. I always told everyone, from the beginning, when you all came over from Oriceran that it was a good thing. That Earth would be a better place. I’ve always been pro-Oriceran. You can ask anyone. Honest to God. I like magic.”

  “Good.” He Who Hunts shoved a tendril into the man’s heart.

  His flesh sizzled and burned as his scream echoed.

  “Please,” the man screamed, falling to his knees. “Please show mercy.”

  A light red glow surrounded the man, the energy flowing in pulses through the tendril embedded in the man’s chest.

  He Who Hunts floated down until his eyes stared directly into the human’s. “You don’t understand. This is my mercy. I give you purpose in your death. I’m making you useful. I don’t ignore you or make you sleep in tunnels. You are part now of a glorious plan.”

  The other homeless turned to flee, only to be boxed in by the wizards and monsters. Some howled their outrage. Others began sobbing.

  He Who Hunts continued to feed. A snack, really. The man didn’t have a speck of magical ability, but at least his lifeforce could provide some small sustenance.

  His victim’s eyes glazed over and he slumped forward, his breathing stopping. His skin began to shrivel and split.

  The murderous cloud of red mist rose into the air from He Who Hunts’ body, his tendril still impaling the homeless man. “You aren’t dying today. You’re becoming part of something greater.”

  He tossed the man to the ground and shot toward another screaming victim.

  He Who Hunts turned toward his servants. “I will feed, and you will prepare. Soon, we will give Brownstone his first test.”

  They nodded, none changing their expressions as the screams and sobs echoed around them.

  Maria glanced down at the black evening gown, liking what it did for her body. Decades of conditioning had given her a firm, toned body rather than a voluptuous silhouette, but Tyler didn’t seem to mind, and he was the main person seeing her naked these days.

  She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, shooting a smile at Tyler across the table. The man filled out a suit well. Even when he was at the Black Sun, he tended toward nice silk shirts and vests, always going for the upscale bartender look.

  He's handsomer than he thinks, but I don’t want to feed his ego by telling him that.

  “How’s the wine?” Tyler asked.

  Maria set it down. “Good. Don’t know if it’s worth as much as they’re charging you, but it beats the crap I get from the grocery store.”

  Tyler chuckled. “Well, I thought a nice dinner might be in order. As fun as take-out and a movie at your place is, it’s nice to dress up.” His gaze roamed her body. “For both of us.”

  Damn, boy. Save it until we’re out of the restaurant.

  She hoped her cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt. “Is that the only reason?”

  Tyler shook his head. “No. You have seemed a little…off lately. I thought it might get your mind off things.”

  Maria chuckled. “Off?”

  “Yeah. Ever since the Council base raid wrapped up. It’s like you’re not all there.” Tyler made a circular gesture with his hand. “I’m an information broker. It’s my job to notice things about people, and I’d be a shitty boyfriend if I didn’t notice something’s bothering you.”

  She laughed. “It’s still weird to hear that.”

  Tyler furrowed his brow. “What?”

  “That you’re my boyfriend.” Maria shrugged. “I’ve mostly dated cops, but it’s gotten harder the higher up I’ve gone, and it’s hard to find a man even in the force who isn’t intimidated by a ball-busting AET lieutenant.” She let out a long sigh. “Sometimes I just wonder.”

  “About what?” Tyler downed the rest of his glass of wine and refilled it from the bottle sitting in ice in the middle of the table.

  Maria shrugged. “The force. I’ve been a cop since I got out of college. It’s weird to think I’m in my forties, and I’ve been doing this for so long. This leave of absence has given me time to think.”

  Tyler frowned and looked over his shoulder. “I’m thinking about the fact that I’m paying a shitload of money for this meal, and they’re taking forever to deliver the entrees. Those appetizers weren’t very filling. That’s the problem with fancy food. Ten times the price for one-tenth the size.”

  Maria gave him a death stare.

  He held up a hand. “I’m still listening. Just hungry. Didn’t eat all day. Figured if I was hungrier it’d make the expensive food tastier, but what about your leave of absence?” He picked up his glass.

  “I’m thinking about resigning.”

  Tyler slowly set his glass down, watching Maria with obvious disbelief in his eyes. “What?”

  Yeah, didn’t see that coming, did you, Mr. Information-Broker Boyfriend?

  Maria shrugged. “I love being a cop. I love protecting people, and I love taking down overpowered assholes who are threatening innocent people, but the politicians, and all the higher-up brass who are sucking up to the politicians—they make everything impossible. I’m losing men, and the asshole politicians are more worried about budgets than dead cops—or hell, dead civilians.” She shook her head. “I’m not going to lie. Working that mission with Brownstone felt good. Damned good.”

  Tyler frowned. “I don’t know if I like where this is going.”

  Maria leaned forward. “We were kicking ass and taking out the bad guys, just like I do with AET, but there wasn’t all the political crap. We just armed up with what we needed, tracked down the assholes, and took them out. It felt very freeing.”

  “Well, fine, quit then.” Tyler shrugged. “You’re kickass. It’s not like you needed Brownstone to know that. There are different ways to help people.” He took another sip of wine. “You could be a security consultant. Sit back, tell people what they want to hear, and make money. Hell, tell them what they need to hear but don’t want to believe because they’ve been too cheap before. It’ll be so easy, it should be illegal.”

  Maria shook her head. “No, not yet. I can’t.”

  “Can’t quit?”

  “No, can’t take that kind of desk job.” She frowned. “I’ve got another ten years of fieldwork in me yet. I want to be hands-on, not just some consultant running around telling museum assholes to fix obvious holes in their security.”

  Tyler rubbed his chin. “Why not start your own security firm then? You can hire people and lead from the front.”

  “I’m not a businesswoman. I’ve been a cop half my life. It’s all I know how to do. Even my degree is in criminology. There’s no way I can build a successful business from the ground up, even with contacts.”

  Damn, I sound pathetic. At least he’s not giving me the pity look. That’d be too much.

  Tyler picked up his glass to take a sip. “Look, I might have a…different sort of business, but I do understand business, and any business is all about opportunities. I’m sure you can get contracts set up with the feds or something, if only because of all that shit you did with the Council, Brownstone, and Shay. It’ll be easier than you think.”

  Brownstone…

  Maria’s heart rate kicked up, and her eyes widened. “That’s it.”

  He smiled. “Yeah. See? It’s just about thinking about it differently. New perspective and all that.”

  She shook her head so hard she got a few looks from nearby tables. “No, Brownstone’s the key. Don’t you get it?”

  Tyler frowned. “No, I don’t get it. What? You want to use Brownstone’s connections?”

  Maria snorted. “No. Screw starting my own business. I told you earlier that working with him made me feel free. He’s already got a business, and he already goes after the worst scum. I’d be saving myself time and not just babysitting some corporate business jerk who pissed off too many protestors. I’d be helping take down real threats.”

  “You’ve got be kidding me.” Tyler set down his glass and scrubbe
d his face with his hand. “You can’t possibly be thinking of working with Brownstone. You used to hate the guy.”

  Maria rolled her eyes. “In case you didn’t notice, shit changed. Why do you care so much? I thought stuff changed for you, too. I thought you were friends.”

  Tyler held up a finger. “More like frenemies, but that’s not the point.”

  “What is the point, then?”

  Tyler sighed. “That guy’s trouble. It’s like God decided to test out new Horsemen of the Apocalypse on Brownstone first or some crap like that. You join up with him, you’ll be in danger all that time. And…” He sighed. “I don’t like that hungry gleam in your eye.”

  Maria’s expression softened. “If anything, working with Brownstone will be safer than working as the tactical head of the AET.”

  “How the hell do you figure?”

  She smirked and gulped down half her glass. “Because I was always dealing with funding and equipment requisition issues. At least if I’m working with Brownstone, I’ll always have him backing me up in the end. Money can’t buy that level of backup.”

  “Still don’t like it,” Tyler grumbled. “Just think about it.”

  “Sure, I’ll think about it.” Maria nodded past him. “Looks like our food’s here.”

  Tyler grunted. “Finally. What? Did they actually take a boat out into the ocean to catch the fish on order?”

  Trey adjusted his tie as he stood in front of Zoe’s door.

  Damn. Should I be doing this? I mean, she took my energy and shit. Don’t that make her like a succubus or something? But damn, was that good sex, and that rack…fuck. That’s got to be magical.

  He shook his head. “Fuck it. If I can take on dangerous bounties, I can hit on a woman I’ve already slept with.” He knocked on the door.

  A moment later, the door swung open, and Zoe stood there in a white silk robe, her eyes bloodshot. A thin smile appeared on her face. “Hello, Trey,” she slurred.

  Fruity wine notes accompanied her breath. Trey still didn’t understand why she needed to get so blitzed to do most of her magic, but there was a lot about the arcane arts he didn’t understand.